Promising You (The Jade Series #4)
Page 5
“I’m not sick,” I mumble.
“My mom did, too,” Garret says. “Jade, you like grilled cheese?”
“I love grilled cheese.”
“We’ll have two grilled cheese if it’s not too much trouble,” Garret says to Charles.
I’m expecting a couple thin slices of white bread with a slice of bright orange processed cheese, but that’s not how Charles makes it. He uses thick slices of homemade bread that he slathers with real butter and tops with white cheddar cheese that he cuts from a large block. The resulting sandwich is much better than the ones I grew up eating.
As we finish up lunch, Pearce walks in the kitchen. Charles nods hello at him as he walks by.
“Hey, Dad,” Garret says. “We’re almost done.”
“No rush,” he says. “I’ll be in my office. Just come in when you’re ready. How are you doing, Jade?”
“Fine.” I cover my mouth, which is stuffed with the homemade cookies Charles gave us for dessert.
Pearce takes a bottle of water from the fridge and leaves.
Charles points to the tray of cookies. “I’ll wrap some of those up for you to take back. In fact, I’ll make up a whole box of things. I have some brownies and some caramel nut bars. Would you like some as well, Garret?”
“No, thanks.”
“He’s always been a healthy eater,” Charles says quietly to me. “Always limits the sweets. That’s how he stays in good shape like that.”
I look at Garret. “That’s true. You really don’t eat sweets that much.”
“I do sometimes, but not every day like you do.”
“I really need to start paying more attention to you. I feel like I don’t even know you.”
He laughs as he gets up from the table. “You know me. Let’s go talk to my dad.”
Pearce is yelling at someone on the phone when we walk into his office. “I need those reports by this afternoon. No excuses.” He sets the phone down, not even saying goodbye to whoever he was talking to.
“You want us to come back later?” Garret asks.
“No, I’m just having some problems with the plant manager in Detroit. It’s under control now.”
Garret and I sit in the leather chairs across from Pearce’s desk.
“So is this about that reality show?” Pearce sits back in his chair. “Because I’ve talked to our attorneys and aside from getting those photographers banned from Moorhurst, there isn’t much we can do.”
“But how can it be legal for them to make up stories about me like that?” Garret asks. “Can’t we sue them for libel?”
“We could, but that would take a lot of time and effort and the lawyers think it’s best if we just wait this out. Once those three episodes air, all this press you’re getting will likely just go away. By April, nobody will care what your favorite food is or what cologne you wear.” He chuckles.
“Dad, it’s not funny.”
“I know. I just find it surprising how people have taken such an interest in you. You’re not even on the show and yet you’ve got millions of fans.”
“Millions? Really?” I look over at Garret who seems just as surprised.
“Anyway, we’ve been advised by the lawyers to keep quiet and lay low until all this blows over. They want you to stay on campus, Garret, as much as possible so the photographers can’t get to you. And they want you to avoid travel of any kind. I know you mentioned going with Jade to Des Moines over spring break but I don’t think you should. You’ll have photographers following you around and given what happened last time, you could end up getting hurt. Or getting Jade hurt.”
Garret glances at me, then turns back to his dad. “Jade and I will talk about it later. We actually came here to talk to you about something else.”
Pearce leans forward, resting his arms on the desk. “Okay, what it is?”
“Jade, you want to tell him?”
“Um, yeah.” I feel nervous all of a sudden. Garret’s dad can be very intimidating and sometimes I find him hard to talk to, especially when all the attention is on me. “Arlin Sinclair came to see me at school yesterday.”
Pearce sits up straighter, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I see. So what was the purpose of Arlin’s visit?’
“He wanted to meet me and tell me some things.”
“What kind of things?” Pearce is a busy man so he likes people to get to the point, but I’m having trouble doing that and I can tell it’s frustrating him.
“You want me to tell him?” Garret asks, sensing my nervousness.
“No. I’ll do it. Sorry, Mr. Kensington. I’m still trying to make sense of what he said so—”
“It’s okay, Jade. Just take your time.”
I retell the entire story including the supposed plans for Garret.
Pearce listens intently, but his face never changes. No look of surprise or worry or anger. Nothing.
When I’m done, the room gets quiet for a moment. Then Pearce does this thing he’s done before where he looks me right in the eye so intensely that I feel like I’m being hypnotized or brainwashed.
“Jade, you understand that knowledge of this organization Arlin and I are part of is strictly confidential. I trust you’ll keep the secrecy of this organization intact. Is that correct?”
With the look Pearce is giving me and his somewhat threatening tone, I find myself unable to respond.
Garret squeezes my hand and I’m finally able to speak. “Yes, I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Arlin never should’ve told you about it. It’s against the rules and he knows that. It just proves that he’s not as sharp as he once was.”
“But what about the other stuff he said? Was any of that true?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“So there’s no secret plan for me?” Garret laughs a little as he asks it.
“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.” Pearce smiles, but I notice his body stiffen up and his eyes shift to his desk and I wonder if he’s really telling us the truth. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Being in this house and around Garret’s family seems to make me that way.
“What about that stuff he said about Royce?” I ask. “Was the group you’re part of really going to make Royce president?”
Pearce smiles again as he sits back in his chair. “We aren’t in the game of picking presidents, Jade. It’s true we’re involved in helping people get elected, but strictly through donations. Helping with fundraising events.”
“But why would Arlin make up lies like that? Why would he say that stuff about Garret?”
“Because he doesn’t want his granddaughter dating a Kensington.” It’s so odd to hear myself referred to as someone’s granddaughter. “Given the circumstances, it’s understandable why he wouldn’t want you to be with my son.” Pearce stands up. “I really need to get back to work. I’m sorry, Jade, if Arlin frightened you with those stories he told you. I’ll have a talk with him at our next meeting.”
“No, you don’t need to. I’m just glad none of that stuff was true.”
I pretend to believe Garret’s dad, but I really don’t trust what he said. It doesn’t make sense. Arlin wouldn’t go to all that trouble to tell me those things if they were just made-up stories. And he seemed really sincere when he told me. Like he really believed everything he was saying.
Garret and I get up and leave and Pearce shuts the door behind us.
“Feel better now?” Garret asks, putting his arm around my shoulder. “Arlin is just a crazy old man trying to get you to break up with me because I’m a Kensington. Just forget what he said. My dad will talk to him. He won’t bother you again.”
“Yeah, okay.” I decide not to share my suspicions with Garret. He and his dad have been getting along better lately and I don’t want to mess that up. Besides, maybe Pearce was telling the truth.
“Ready to head back?” Garret grabs our coats which we left sitting on a chair in the living room, mainly just to piss off Katherine who likes
everything to be neatly put away.
“Not really. It’s a nice day and we don’t have class so maybe we could do something.”
“Like what?”
I look up at him and smile. “Take a drive in my new car? Since I can’t drive yet, you’ll be the first one to drive it.”
“I already drove it. I’ve driven it several times.”
“Garret!” I punch his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rubs his arm, laughing. “Because I knew you’d be pissed.”
“I’m not pissed at you for driving it. I’m pissed because you didn’t take me with you.”
“Well, I’m taking you now.” He kisses my cheek, then walks off. “Wait outside. I’ll go to the garage and bring it around front.”
Mr. Kensington bought me a brand new, white BMW convertible and gave it to me last week. It was a gift for finding his daughter, Lilly, when she ran off and got lost in the woods behind their house. Finding her is what landed me with stitches in my knee and a concussion.
Garret and I are taking my new car to California this summer. We’re living on the beach for three whole months. We still haven’t decided on a place, but we’ve narrowed down our options. We don’t want to be in a big city so we’re trying to find a place in one of the small coastal towns north of LA. Harper and her boyfriend, Sean, will be there, too. They’re hoping to get a place right next to ours so the four of us can hang out together all summer. I’m so excited about this summer. I just want it to hurry up and get here.
The car pulls up into the circular driveway and I get in the passenger side while Garret tucks my crutches in the back seat.
“Nice, huh?” He gets back in and speeds off.
“Really nice, but slow down a little.”
“I’m showing you what it can do.” He speeds up again once we’re past the gate.
“It goes fast. I get it. Now slow down or you’re going to get a ticket.”
“I get tickets all the time around here. The cops probably keep a stash of them already made out with my information. The speed limits in this town are way too slow.”
“Well, there’s another thing I didn’t know about you. You get too many speeding tickets.”
He swerves fast around a corner. “I like to think of it as supporting the city services.”
“Where are you taking us?”
“I’m going to that park where we went sledding. I’m guessing nobody’s there right now so we’ll have the entire parking lot to ourselves. You can test out the car without killing someone.”
“I’m not going to pass out while driving.”
“That’s not what the head trauma caregiver sheet said.”
The parking lot at Bryant Park is empty, just as he predicted. He gets out of the car and I climb over to the other side, not bothering to walk around the outside.
“Someone’s anxious to drive,” Garret says as he gets into the passenger side. “You shouldn’t climb over the middle like that. You could’ve hurt your knee.”
“My knee is fine.” Actually it does kind of hurt after bumping it on the steering wheel just now, but I’m not telling Garret that. It’s my left leg so at least I can still drive. I pull the seatbelt over me and adjust the seat. “I feel like I’m 16 again learning to drive in a parking lot.”
“Who taught you to drive?”
“Ryan did, in that old car of his. It’s so huge I felt like I was driving a bus.” I look over at Garret. “Hurry up. Put your seatbelt on.”
“I don’t need one to drive around a parking lot.”
“Yes you do. I might pass out.”
“Oh, now you believe me?” He reaches back for his seatbelt and clicks it in place.
I press on the gas and the car takes off so fast I have to hit the brakes before we run into the curb.
“And you thought I was a fast driver?” Garret’s hands are against the dashboard like he was bracing for a crash.
“I didn’t mean to do that. This gas pedal is really sensitive. You barely have to press down on it. Same with the brakes. With Ryan’s car, you had to press really hard.” I drive down the parking lot and turn around. “This steering wheel is so easy to move.”
“Yeah. Power steering.” Garret’s laughing at me. “It’s been a common feature in cars for the past 20 or 30 years.”
“Well, Ryan’s car doesn’t have it. And that’s the only car I’ve driven other than yours that one time.” I continue to go up and down the parking lot. “When Ryan taught me to drive, he was so worried I’d crash his car. He’s sick of that car now, but back then he loved it. It was his baby.”
“Then I’m surprised he let you drive it.”
“It was right after my mom died. He took me out every night and let me drive. Even after I was already pretty good at driving he still made me practice. I think he just wanted to find something to get my mind off what happened. He didn’t want me sitting in my room thinking about . . . you know, finding her that way.”
Garret puts his hand over mine on the steering wheel. “Why don’t we take a break and go sit on the picnic tables over there?”
I laugh. “Are you getting tired of going around the parking lot? I guess it is kind of boring, especially when you’re not the one driving.” I pull into a space next to the tennis courts.
We go sit on a picnic table by the swings. It’s sunny out, but the wind is chilly.
“So you know how you said earlier that you don’t know me as well as you should?” Garret asks.
“Yeah.” I pick up his hand, which is toasty warm, and place it around my cold fingers.
“Well, I feel the same way about you sometimes. I think we need to work on that.”
“Okay, so tell me about yourself.” I gaze into his eyes, smiling. “Do you like long walks on the beach? Sunsets? Rainy days?”
“I’m serious, Jade. You never talk about your past.”
“Neither do you.”
“So I think we should start talking about it.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you’re willing to tell me.”
“Um, okay, but I still need you to be more specific.”
He hesitates and holds my hand a little tighter. “Do you want to tell me about the day your mom died?”
I shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It was a Tuesday. I came home from school, went to use the bathroom and there she was. Lying on the bathroom floor. I yelled at her to get up but she didn’t move. I don’t know why I yelled at her like that. I knew she was dead. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and she had some weird liquid coming out of her mouth.”
Garret watches me as I tell the story, probably thinking I’ll burst out crying. But I never cry over that day. When I think about it, I don’t feel anything really. Maybe I’m a bad person for reacting that way, but it is what it is.
“And then what happened? Did Frank come over? Or who helped you after you found her?”
“Nobody. I just called the police. I wasn’t sure who you’re supposed to call when something like that happens. Frank was at a doctor’s appointment with Ryan. Anyway, the police came over and asked me some questions and the coroner came and took the body away. Then they left and I waited for Frank to get home.”
“You just waited there all alone? And the police allowed that? But you were a minor.”
“I lied and told them my aunt was coming over. I don’t even have an aunt, but I must be a good liar because they believed me.”
“So you went to Frank’s house when he got home?”
“Yeah, and I stayed there that night.”
“And what happened the next day?”
“I just got up and went to school.”
“But your mom had just died.”
“I didn’t want to sit at home all day and think about it. Frank took care of the funeral and whatever else needed to be done. And that’s the story. Now you know.”
“When did it happen?”
“In the fall. Okay,
now you have to tell me something about your past.”
“When in the fall?”
Dammit. He’s going to make me say it and then he’s going to overreact. This is why I never tell this story.
6
“It happened in October. October 6th.”
And there’s the look. Shock and sadness cross Garret’s face, mixed with a good helping of pity.
“October 6th? That’s just a couple days before your birthday.”
“Yeah, I know when my birthday is.” I pick a rock off the ground and run it along the grooves in the wooden picnic table. “Sometimes I think she planned it that way. The morning it happened she came in my room and told me she was going to order pizza on Thursday for my birthday, which was weird because she never did anything for my birthday. But whatever. She broke her promise, just like she always did.”
Even though I know now that my mom was drugged and didn’t mean to be that way, I still haven’t fully accepted it. And because of that, I still hate her. I feel guilty about that, but it hasn’t changed how I feel about her. I think it’ll just take time.
Garret’s quiet and I can’t stand the look he’s giving me. Like I’m broken because of this one day in my past. Like he has to try and fix me now. Make me whole again.
“Well, this is depressing.” I laugh a little to lighten the mood. “Do you want to just leave?”
“No.” He’s still staring at me with that same look.
I focus back on the table, digging the rock into a knot in the wood. “I shouldn’t have told you that story. It was 4 years ago, and I hated her so it really wasn’t as traumatic as it sounds. Your story is way more sad. You actually loved your mom and then she died in a plane crash.”
“But I had people around me, helping me get through it. You were all alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. I moved in with Frank and Ryan the next day.”
He takes the rock from my hand and waits for me to look at him. “Is that why you don’t celebrate your birthday?”
“No. I don’t celebrate it because I didn’t grow up celebrating it. It was just another day.” My tone is harsh and I don’t care, because I really don’t like where this conversation is going. I wasn’t prepared to tell him that story and I’m kind of mad at him for even asking. “Are we done? Because I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. What else do you want to know about me?”