Holiday: Annihilate Them, #2

by Christina Ross

  “Listen to me,” she said. “The shower will be fine—my arch nemesis and I will get through it, and I have a feeling that we’ll be back to being friends in the end.”

  “Then let’s leave it at that,” I said. “Because right now, I can’t have my best friends at war with each other.”

  “Then we won’t be,” she said. “Trust me on that, OK? Things just got a little heated between us. Egos got in the way. But that also can end today. So, shoo! Get to work. Let me call Lisa now and start to build the bridge that will lead us to the kind of baby shower you’ll be proud of.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said.

  As I stood, Blackwell came forward and gave me a hug. “And I appreciate that you have my daughter’s best interests at heart. Thank you, my dear. How you just handled her a moment ago? It was like watching a master class on dealing with relationships on the edge of ruin. I couldn’t be more grateful for how you handled the situation.”

  She kissed me on both cheeks before I left.

  “Now,” she said. “Let me call that zombie-loving harpy of yours so we can give you the shower you deserve.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHEN THE BIG DAY FINALLY came—my baby shower, not the birth of my child, which couldn’t come soon enough—Alex and Tank helped me out of the limousine when we arrived at Wenn early that morning.

  As they assisted me out of the car and onto the sidewalk, I couldn’t help feeling that they were handling me as if I were a Fabergé egg.

  “Guys, I’m not going to break—I promise,” I said as we moved through the crowds on Fifth Avenue and then into the building itself.

  “We’re just being careful, Jennifer,” Tank said.

  “And I appreciate that,” I said as I placed my hand on his arm. “I really do, Tank. I’m just not used to the kind of attention I’ve been getting lately.”

  “With the baby coming so soon, you deserve this kind of attention,” Alex said against my ear as he wrapped his arm protectively around me.

  He was wearing a long, fitted black overcoat that couldn’t contain his muscular physique, and his eyes held a wealth of emotions—worry for my wellbeing, excitement for what was to come, and concern that I might be overdoing it now, especially since the baby had officially dropped yesterday. I looked up at him and could see that this pregnancy had nearly been as hard on him as it had been on me. I needed to own that. So if he wanted to treat me as if I were a Fabergé egg, then so be it.

  I’d do anything for my man.

  “Thank you,” I said as I gently took hold of his collar and pulled him close to me. “You’ve been nothing short of a champ throughout all of this. I love you for taking care of me the way that you have. At this point, I feel beyond spoiled by you, Tank, Cutter, Blackwell, Lisa and Epifania. It’s just that sometimes I also feel a bit claustrophobic, and then the hormones start to kick in, which clearly turn me into a monster.”

  “You’ve never once been a monster since you’ve been pregnant, Jennifer,” Alex said.”

  “I sure as hell feel that I have. And I apologize for it now.”

  “But that hasn’t been the case,” he said seriously. “Not once.”

  “I don’t know, maybe I’ve just been too worked up lately. Because I’ll freely admit it—I’m scared to death about giving birth, Alex. Please don’t judge me on this, but if giving birth becomes too painful, I plan to scream out for an epidural. Or for a piece of leather to bite down on.”

  “Why not have the epidural?” he said. “They’re completely safe—I’ve Googled it.”

  “You have?”

  “I did.”

  “You’re the best,” I said.

  He kissed me on the forehead. “And I love you. Even if I do think that you should have stayed home today.”

  “But today is the shower,” I said. “I don’t know what Lisa and Blackwell have in mind for it, and I really don’t care because I trust them. Whatever they’ve come up with will be lovely. But once the shower is over? I am so done, I can’t tell you. After the last present is unwrapped, this girl is out of here. I plan on going home and bingeing on Netflix.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Alex said. “Tank will take you home. And look, Jennifer, I know that you are no fool. I know that you can sense where your body is at this moment. My best advice when it comes to today is just to enjoy it for what it is—a celebration of you and our baby. I hope that you have fun. Are you ready to go up?”

  I nodded at him and then looked over at Tank, who was standing beside us. “See you in a few hours?” I said.

  “Absolutely. And have a terrific shower, Jennifer. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks, Tank. And by the way, while I have your ear, would you mind being a sport and giving birth for me?”

  “Not in the cards for me, ma’am.”

  “How about if we deal from a new deck?”

  “With my plumbing, still not in the cards...”

  I shrugged at him. “Nobody can say that I didn’t try. Anyway, wish me luck, you two. Because who in hell knows what Lisa and Blackwell have in store for me.”

  “I know,” Tank said.

  But before I could question him on what he knew, he gave me a sly smile and then left the lobby, leaving Alex and me to ourselves.

  “You really don’t think it will be that bad, do you?” Alex said as he kissed me.

  “Actually, no,” I said. “Because when it comes to those two? I have faith in them. Today will be whatever today is, and I know that they will have done their best. So!” I said. “Let’s go. And let’s see what comes at noon, when this shower thing is supposed to start.”

  WHEN ALEX AND I ARRIVED at the forty-seventh floor, we started toward our offices with his hand holding mine while, in the distance, I could hear the phone ringing and Ann answering it.

  “And here we go,” I said. “Another busy day.”

  “You mean, ‘here I go,’” he corrected. “You’re just doing a bit of paperwork, finishing up, and then enjoying your shower, remember?”

  “I remember...”

  The thought of leaving Wenn behind for the next three months was something I had mixed emotions about. I loved working here, especially with my husband. But there was another part of me that was looking forward to spending three whole months with our baby—taking care of it and loving it. I knew that Blackwell, her girls and my friends would be frequent visitors, so what I saw ahead of me was letting go of Wenn for a while so I could welcome motherhood—and all that it involved.

  When we reached Ann, she was behind her desk with the receiver in her hand. I looked at the blinking light on the phone and knew that whomever was on the line was on hold.

  She blushed when she saw me.

  “Ann, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I was about to hang up, but when I heard the elevator doors opened, I decided not to.”

  “I don’t understand...?”

  “Do you know an Ava Kent?” she asked.

  At the sound of my mother’s name, my throat went tight.

  “She’s claiming to be your mother. And frankly, she sounds angry. Since I heard both of you coming down the hallway, I wanted to make certain that this wasn’t a fraud before I told her to have a good day.”

  “No,” I said as a chill shot through me. “My mother’s name is Ava. I haven’t heard from her or my father since Lisa and I moved to New York. Not that I expected to hear from them—but still.” Since Ann was a good friend, I fessed up. “Between us, my mother is an alcoholic, Ann, as is my father. The last I knew, my mother was in prison.” I nodded toward the phone. “What's the area code?”

  She looked at the caller I.D. “207...”

  “That’s Maine, where they live.”

  “She’s demanding to speak with you,” Ann said. “For whatever reason, she sounded very angry on the phone, which concerns me. Jennifer, you don’t need this right now.”

  The very thought of talking to my mother after so many years made my kne
es weak. My parents had caused me such great emotional and physical pain, I had no idea what I’d say to my mother now. And after all this time, why was she even calling me? Why hadn’t she reached out to me sooner? My mother was no fool—if anything, she was a cunning, calculating woman who probably knew from the press alone that I had long been married to a billionaire. When Alex and I married, I’d expected to hear from one of them for a handout, but the call never came. And because of that alone, I’d long suspected that they were happy that I was out of their lives.

  But now my mother was on the line, and I had to wonder why.

  Has my father died? Is that why she’s calling? Because if that isn’t the reason, then why is she calling?

  I needed to end this.

  “Put her through to my office,” I said to Ann.

  “Jennifer, she’s aggressive,” Ann said. “If you’re going to take this call, you need to know that.”

  I felt my core grow cold when Ann said that, but I knew my mother, and so I kept steady. “This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before, Ann.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Ann, my relationship with my parents is one of the reasons I fled Maine for Manhattan. I never wanted to burden you with that information. In fact, I never wanted anyone but Alex to know the truth about the people who gave birth to me. Beyond Alex, only Lisa and Blackwell know.”

  “I’m a vault,” she said. “Nothing personal escapes my lips when it comes to either of you.”

  “We know that you are, and we appreciate it.”

  “Jennifer,” Alex said to me. “Are you sure that you want to talk to her? Is this even the right moment for that?”

  “Look, even more than my mother, my father is a serious alcoholic who never has been in good health. His side of the family is filled with heart issues. For all I know, he could be dead, which might be the reason for the call. Ever since I moved here, they’ve left me alone—even after I married Alex. They’ve never come asking for money, which is in their nature to do—so trust me that this could be serious. If my father is unwell or dead, I should take the call for that reason alone.”

  “Think twice about this,” Alex said.

  “At the end of the day, she’s my mother, Alex. And if she’s insisting that I take her call after so many years of not hearing a word from her, then clearly something is wrong. My mother is my mother. If she’s waited this long to reach out to me, she didn’t do so without purpose. She’s a drunk, and she’s always had this weird sense of entitlement about herself. Maybe it’s because she’s bright, but for whatever reason, she’s always felt that she’s better than everyone else. So,” I said as Alex helped me out of my coat, “put her through to me in a few minutes, Ann. Let me close the door, settle in, and I’ll deal with this alone.”

  “I should be with you,” Alex said.

  “No,” I said. “Not with her on the phone. She can be manipulative, which means that I need to think clearly and have no distractions. For now, this is something I need to handle on my own.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHEN I CLOSED MY OFFICE door behind me, I took a deep breath, tossed my coat onto the sofa, and then sat at my desk while Ann did exactly what I’d asked of her—she gave me a few moments to collect myself before she put my mother through.

  When the phone rang, I steeled myself and answered the line.

  “This is Jennifer,” I said.

  “Oh, is it?” she said. “After all these years, I’d barely recognize your voice. Do you recognize mine? It’s your mother.”

  And so it was—I’d know her voice anywhere. In fact, given the undertone of anger and sarcasm I heard in it, I knew it all too well.

  “I could pick out your voice in a line-up,” I said to her.

  “Already with the prison insults—always so quick, Jennifer.”

  “Right,” I said. “And by the way, it’s nice of you to call. I believe it’s been...what? Five years or so since we last talked?”

  “You’ve got our number, girl. The phone goes both ways.”

  “So it does. But here’s the thing, Ava,” I said, addressing her by her first name because I refused to call her by any other. “I never wanted to talk to you again.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “I can. In fact, I do.”

  “Then you don’t remember how you raised me, and you especially don’t remember the fight we had when I left Maine. You remember—the one in which you said to me that if I walked out the door, I’d never have a relationship with you again? That I should expect to never hear from either one of you again? That I’d be dead to each of you? Do you recall saying that?”

  “I do. It was a bright spot in my week.”

  “Then I suppose you also remember calling me a cunt when I left the house to meet Lisa in the driveway? Because I sure as hell remember it. I’ve never forgotten it. So I have to wonder why you’re calling me now, Ava. Are you calling from the clink? Or is my father dead and you’re calling because you need money to bury him? Which is it? Why are you calling me after all these years? Are you calling to hurt me? To shame me in some way? Because that’s been your pattern since I was a kid.” Before she could answer, I waved a hand in the air, as if I could wipe away all the years of abuse with a swift flick. “At this point in our relationship? Here’s where we stand, Ava—I’m giving you one minute to tell me why you’re calling. This conversation ends if you don’t get to the point—and fast.”

  “Well, listen to you,” she said to me with fury in her voice. “Calling your own mother by her first name. Is this how you respect the woman who gave birth to you? Who fed and cared for you?”

  “Cared for me?” I said in exasperation. “Is that what you did for me, Ava? You cared for me?”

  “I did care for you. I nursed you, for God’s sake. I wiped that smelly ass of yours, I bathed you, and I clothed you. And by the way, Jennifer, what the fuck has become of you? The only reason you dare to speak to me like this now is because you somehow landed yourself a billionaire. Apparently, you think that you can talk to me like that. But I’m telling you this, Mrs. Wenn—you can’t. You need to show me the respect I deserve.”

  “Give me one reason to.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How about this?” I said. “Let’s just get to the point, Ava. Why are you calling? Why the sudden outreach? I have a busy day ahead of me, and I sure as hell have no time in it for you.”

  In a girly, mocking voice, she said, “Maybe it’s because you’re so close to giving birth. Maybe I wanted to rattle you before the big day arrives. Hell, Jennifer, maybe I called because I wanted to force you into early labor so that you can feel the pain I went through when you were born.”

  “You know what? I’m not doing this. Best to you and the monster you’re married to. Goodbye—”

  “Hang up on me, and I’ll call Alex myself,” she said in a threatening tone. “And trust me on this, sugar—if I do call, I plan on telling him that you weren’t as pure as he thought you were when he first married you. Because here’s what I know about you, darling daughter—you’ve never had the guts to tell him the truth, have you? No, I didn’t think so. You’ve been living a lie, and I’m about to reveal the truth to smash you two apart.”

  And there it was—the truth that only she, my father, and I knew. I was so ashamed about what my father had done to me when I was a child that I’d never been able to tell even Lisa about it. His molestation of me was my deepest, darkest, most intimate, and humiliating secret—and my mother was about to use it against me.

  This was the reason for the call, and because I knew what was coming next, I never had felt so betrayed. I wanted to burst into tears that my own mother would sink so low to hurt me, but since I knew who she was—just how ugly she was—I tried my best to remain strong as she spoke.

  “What would those New York tabloids think if your mother happened to call them out of the blue and agree to be interviewed about how y
our father put his hands on you when you were a little girl?” she asked. “Well, goodness, what would the world think if they knew the truth about the great Jennifer Wenn? To be more precise, Jennifer, what would your husband think about you for not telling him about your past? For lying to him by not revealing to him what your daddy did to you...?”

  “What makes you think that I haven’t told—”

  “Don’t fuck around me with me, girl, because I know that you haven’t. You’ve said nothing to Alex about any of it—that’s who you are. And I know who you are. You’ve kept this a secret from him. And you and I both know that if he found out now, it could destroy your marriage. Am I wrong?”

  At that moment, my head was spinning so fast that I said nothing.

  “So I’m not,” she said, seizing my silence. “What a surprise. You’re as deceptive and devious as you claim your father and me to be.”

  “Don’t you ever equate me with either of you after what you did to me. You could have stopped him when it was happening, but you chose not to. You knew he came into my bedroom when I was asleep at night, and what he did to me there. You knew that for years he put his hands on me. The only reason I escaped it all is because I somehow had the sense to tell my fourth-grade teacher about it. You remember Mr. Gardner? Yes, I bet you do. He wanted to go straight to the police then and there, but I begged him not to because I knew that my sorry ass of a father would beat the shit out of me if he did. But Mr. Gardner still found a way to act, because he’s the one who came to our house and threatened my father. He’s the one who told him that he would go to the police if he didn’t stop. And you know what, Ava? I’ve always wanted to ask you this—how did you ever sleep at night knowing that your husband was molesting your own child for four years?”

  “A cheap bottle of vodka can get you through anything, honey. And beyond that, I needed your father at that point, and so did you. He was working hard for us then—covering the bills, including the ones that kept you and I eating. You should be grateful that he got up each morning and worked his ass off for us.”