“Honey, please calm down! It can't be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”
“Oh, no? You both think Ben Swift is all sweetness and light, don’t you? How about a paternity test? That's right, Momma. He was sneaky enough to preserve samples of Henry's DNA when he showed up here in February, and he's getting the test done as we speak!”
Samantha and Darlene gaped at her in mute surprise, absorbing the gist of her rant.
“And get this!” She threw Samantha a shrivelling glare. “Our self-righteous old boyfriend couldn’t wait to inform me, when he gets the results to prove he is indeed the father? He's going for custody.”
“Oh, Ronnie!” their mother cried. “All along, you should’ve taken the money. He would never have gone this route if you hadn't been so bullheaded. Your resistance to a compromise didn't give him any choice!”
“Yeah, right! And guess what else he told me? His father is sending money to you now, instead of me. But are you spending it on Henry, or are you blowing it on yourself at the liquor store?”
Darlene shrank back, her face puckering. She dropped into the recliner and looked up at Veronica, as if wounded. “How can you say such a thing to me? After all I do – we do – for you and your child!”
“That was a low blow, Ron,” Samantha said. Still, whatever she thought of Veronica’s accusation, she found it impossible to believe Ben would take Henry away from the only family he had ever known. “Wait. Did he say full custody?”
“Full custody, joint custody, he hasn't made up his mind yet, he informed me. First things first, were his words. He made me sound like a liar. Not to mention a common slut, him needing actual proof he knocked me up.” She collapsed on the couch. “I shouldn't have said what I said, Momma. I'm sorry to be so mean.” Bursting into tears, she sobbed into her hands.
“I know. You're upset and afraid, I understand.”
“Why would a judge grant him full custody, anyhow?” Samantha wondered aloud. “A small child is rarely taken from his mother, unless she's unfit. Besides, Ben hasn't even graduated from college yet.”
“His father has done well for himself since they moved to Nova Scotia, he sounded delighted to tell me. They think, together, they can provide a much better life for Henry.” Fresh tears swam in her eyes as she spoke.
Samantha had opened her mouth to reply when, between Veronica's sobs, she heard the impatient toot-toot of a car horn outside.
Kalen had arrived. And this couldn't wait.
Chapter Sixteen
Before Veronica could gather her wits and give her any more warnings about her boyfriend, Samantha blurted out she had to go and hurried outside to meet him. Kalen stretched his arm across the seat and pushed open the door for her. As soon as she got in, she asked if they could find somewhere else to talk instead of his apartment. Somewhere safe.
“We could go to our favourite coffee shop.”
When she agreed, he put the car in drive and headed downtown. The windshield wipers waved hypnotically to the beat of a song on the radio, as a cold misty rain fell. Kalen flicked off the music and threw her a tentative grin.
“My buddy Dean. The guy I got the drugs from?”
“What about him?”
“He got busted last night! Can you believe it?”
“And this is your good news? What if he rats you out?”
“He wouldn't rat me out. I'm nothing more than an underling, a small-time dealer. The cops aren’t too concerned with the likes of me. They want the names of the big guys, the major suppliers. He might give up the guy who keeps him in business, but I doubt it. Unless he's got a death wish.”
Samantha shook her head, still puzzled. “But what about the stolen drugs?”
Kalen slowed down, parking across the street from the coffee shop. “Come on. I'll tell you the rest inside.”
The café, its interior smelling of a heady mix of brewed coffee, doughnuts and sweet muffins, was close to empty. Only two other customers were present, and they were finishing up their drinks and making motions to leave. When Kalen brought their coffee to a corner table near the window, they sat down to resume their conversation. Instead of sitting opposite Samantha, he slid in beside her.
He leaned close to her ear. “It's like this. Dean got busted and the police confiscated his drug supply. It’s enough to get a conviction, or to get him to squeal on his supplier for a much lighter sentence. What I think is this: he won't be a rat because they might hire someone to hurt his girlfriend, or he could end up floatin' tits up in St. John’s harbour as soon as they spring him. That’s why he'll keep his mouth zipped, take his punishment like a man, and do the time. And when he gets out down the road, I might have enough money saved up to pay him back for what got ripped off. Or he'll call it all square because it wasn't my fault.”
“How did you find out about his arrest?”
“His girlfriend told me.”
“But won't the supplier want the drugs that were stolen from you?”
An elderly man with a cane entered and walked to the counter at the other end of the café.
Kalen put his hand on the table, covering hers, continuing to speak in a hushed voice. “Nah, I’d say they'll think the cops got it all. Or they’ll think someone else is out there with it, but they won't know who.”
Samantha pulled her hand away, wrapping it around her warm cup. “And what about you? From here on in, I mean?”
“I'm done. Dope dealing is a thing of the past for this guy. I've more than learned my lesson, believe me.” He sipped his coffee. “I should never have gotten into that crazy racket. Not one of my brightest moves, that’s for sure.”
“You need a real job, Kalen!”
He chuckled. The relief on his face today was the antithesis of the panic he had displayed last night. “I saved the best for last, babe. Last month I applied for this job. I got a call this morning from Steele-King Construction with a request for an interview.”
“You're joking!”
“And the pay is wicked. If I get this, I can save for a down payment and buy my own house. Then my days of paying rent will be behind me for good.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a firm squeeze.
Samantha tried to sift through the barrage of information, but it took a lot of effort to digest all he had told her. Could he miraculously be out of any danger? “Does your house still look like a war zone?”
“I cleaned up most of it this morning, so it’s almost ship-shape, and I boarded up the broken window until I get it fixed. You want to, uh, go home with me for a nap?” Draining the last of his coffee, he stood up.
“No way, Kalen. I'm still too freaked out to go back there.”
“I understand. Look, I want to take you out tonight on a real, honest-to-goodness date. I still have a few bucks in the bank, and you deserve a treat after this ton of crap I've put you through.”
“You can’t afford to spend what's left of your money on such luxuries,” Samantha said, as they climbed back into the hatchback. “Bring me home, alright? I need to think about this. About us.”
With a troubled look, Kalen pulled the car away from the curb, but he didn't respond.
They drove through the rain to her mother's in silence. When they got there and she reached for the door handle, he caught her by the elbow.
“Please, Sam. Let me make it up to you. We could go to that place you wanted to try, okay? The cool new Italian restaurant on Duckworth? I hear their prices are pretty reasonable.” He squeezed her arm. “Hell, I'll settle for breadsticks and water and watch you eat, if it’ll make you happy. Please say yes!”
She had a sudden memory of him during their first summer hanging out, the time she’d literally run into Crystal while out jogging. Kalen had helped her then by fending off Crystal’s nasty barbs. He’d shown his concern over her banged-up knee, dusting her off, walking her home and consoling her along the way. She remembered other times during their high school years when all he’d wanted was to cheer her up
and make her feel better.
She got out of the car, heaving a weary sigh. “Pick me up around 6-ish,” she said, before slamming the door.
***
“You mean, you’re going out with that tool again?” Veronica gaped at her. “Are you stunned? Or are you high on those drugs he’s dealing?”
Samantha’s temper flared. “Go on to work if you're going! I have to change and get ready.” She had no intention of repeating everything to her sister about Kalen, or why she now wanted to give him another chance. The entire conversation could have waited if Veronica hadn't dropped by for Henry's forgotten Elmo doll, which he had to have for bedtime.
Samantha was thankful Darlene and Cash had already left for Bambury’s Tavern, or they would have heard an earful. And as sure as heck, they would have demanded to know the sordid details of Kalen's illicit escapades. Then there would have been three of them injected into the discussion about “What Samantha Should Do”.
“Sam, how did you get straight A’s? Sleeping with some hard ticket who is unworthy of you and who will only end up turning your life into a nightmare. Or at the very least, a sordid movie of the week.”
“But he’s finished with all of that. And I don’t throw away boyfriends without a second thought like some people I know!”
“Maybe you don’t, but Kalen doesn't give a damn about you, sis. And you're going to regret ignoring my advice. Mark my words.”
“Ah, why do I waste my breath? You won’t even try to understand!” Samantha fled to the bathroom and banged the door shut, staying there until she knew Veronica had left.
Staring at her aggravated reflection, she did her utmost to drive the warnings from her mind. Veronica agonized over Ben, the paternity test and the custody issue. She’d seethed with resentment and bitterness ever since he’d broken up with her and begun dating Samantha that summer, so she was the last one to be considered objective when it came to guys. But even though Ben had turned out to be such a dipshit – and he must be if he meant to follow through on his threat of filing for sole custody – it didn’t make Kalen one as well. He’d made a big mistake, sure, but didn’t he deserve the opportunity for a do-over so he could redeem himself? Wouldn't Veronica want to be given a second chance if she messed up?
Samantha was getting too old for all of this family togetherness lately. She dreamed of the sweet, sweet day when she wouldn't have to engage in circular arguments with Veronica at every turn, the longed-for independence day when at last she'd be living out on her own, away from her sister's mouth with its verbal diarrhea, away from her mother's booze-fests, away from all the domestic drama that had plagued her life for far too long. She'd grown tired of living with dorm roommates over the last three winters as well, with all their clothes and stuff underfoot and in her way, and their bellyaching and complaints about the minutiae going on in their own tangly little lives.
If things progressed between her and Kalen and she moved in with him, it would still be a spectacular improvement. The thought of the two of them arriving home from work and sharing their evenings together sounded like a slice of heaven. Perhaps she would spend some relaxing hours painting or sketching while he played guitar. She would be the queen of her domain, free to cook whatever she wanted, to eat whenever she pleased, to have friends over without worrying about someone barging in and cramping her style. And she could retreat from the world whenever the mood struck, live in jammies all day and read novels in peace and quiet, or watch movies on television without anyone to tell her to turn it down or change the channel. Another tempting picture formed in her mind's eye, of an entire day spent in bed, making love with a man who adored her. In the end, would that man be Kalen?
Forty-five minutes later, she peered over the table at him in a dimly lit corner of the popular new Italian restaurant. Still tense from the last twenty-four hours, she quaffed a few mouthfuls of her Valpolicella wine, welcoming the potent red heat of it as it ran down her throat and bloomed in her empty stomach. Warm, soothing candlelight bathed the white linen tablecloth and their faces in a glow of soft, golden yellow, while romantic dinner music, low and subtle, played in the background. The restaurant was filling up, adding to the enjoyable atmosphere. A thirty-something couple at an adjacent table smiled over at them. She and her companion were, by far, the youngest diners in the room.
“Wow, Samantha,” Kalen said, “You are beautiful tonight.” His attentiveness drew her in and helped her to relax.
She felt grateful he’d noticed. She’d taken extra pains with her hair and makeup, and had chosen to wear the slinky emerald-green dress that he hadn't seen her in yet.
“The colour of that dress brings out your lovely eyes like nobody's business,” he added.
“You think so?”
“Totally, girl! Would you like more wine when they bring our order?” He swished around the wine left in his glass and emptied it.
“No, I think I'm good.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll stick to water now, too.”
When their entrées arrived and Samantha smelled the Italian dish put before her, she realized how hungry she was. She helped herself to a thick, buttery wedge of garlic bread from the basket between them, then attacked her rigatoni pomodoro with gusto while Kalen tucked into his chicken parmesan. They agreed every bite of it tasted delicious.
Afterwards, Samantha decided against ordering dessert. “I don’t have anywhere left to put it,” she groaned, patting her full stomach.
“Party pooper.” Kalen perused the dessert menu on the tabletop stand, flipping over each leaf filled with sweet and decadent illustrations. “Hey, here’s something. We should have these chocolate martinis!” He grinned at her. “Surely you can manage a liquid dessert?”
“I wish. But you go ahead. Fill your boots.”
Right on time, their waiter showed up to take their plates and Kalen’s order for one chocolate martini.
When Kalen excused himself to go to the men's room, Samantha sat back, satiated and content. Briefly, she pondered on how the rest of their date might play out. Would he ask to take her to his place? She still had misgivings about it; the memory of the shambles they’d found it in last night lingered too fresh. Maybe she would invite him to her place. Cash and her mother would be at Bambury’s until after two o'clock. A warm tingle flowed through her. Yes, that would be best, she would—
A familiar tune shrilled, shaking her out of her daydream. A Kiss song. She looked to Kalen's side of the table where the ringtone jabbered. He had left his cell phone there when he went to the men’s room. Hesitant at first, she observed several heads turning in her direction, so she picked it up. Should she turn it off and let it go to voicemail, or answer it? Craning her neck, she couldn't see him, so she went ahead and answered it, as the waiter brought the chocolate martini and placed it on the table. She smiled and nodded at him before he went back to the bar.
After a brief pause, a woman's voice asked for Kalen. She sounded older.
“He'll be here in a second. May I tell him who is calling?”
Instead of identifying herself, the woman asked if she was speaking to Kalen's girlfriend. She talked in a light and sociable tone, so Samantha said yes, she was. She wondered to herself if this was related to his upcoming job interview with the construction company.
“And your name is…” the woman said.
Afraid of being rude to Kalen’s potential employer, she told the caller her name.
“Were you out of town two weeks ago, Samantha?”
“Uh, yes. In Corner Brook.” What did this lady want?
“Oh, that's interesting. Samantha, I wonder would you do something for me?”
“What's that?”
The woman's tone and demeanor dramatically changed then, as if she’d flicked on a switch, injecting her words full of spiteful venom as she shouted into Samantha's ear. “The next goddamn time you go to Corner Brook, you damn well better take your son-of-a-bitch sleaze of a boyfriend, or whatever you call him, w
ith you. Because if you don’t, Miss Samantha, and if I ever catch him screwing around with my fifteen-year-old daughter again? I'll fucking bury him!”
Samantha ended the call, staring at the phone in her quivering grip in disbelief. Her throat went dry and her heart plummeted, falling inwards toward her spine and sinking like a dead weight into her stomach. She thought she might throw up her entire meal at any moment. She had to get out of there.
Tearing her coat off the back of her chair and grabbing her purse, she saw Kalen chatting with one of the waiters on his way to their table. With his attention still diverted, she dropped his phone neatly into his chocolate martini and made a beeline to the exit. She flung the door open and ran as fast as her legs allowed in her dress shoes, up the wet sidewalk through the driving rain, not stopping long enough to turn around, not stopping until she could no longer catch her breath or put one foot in front of the other.
She slipped around the corner of a building, leaning against the cool, soaked brick until her lungs stopped hurting and refilled with air. Her chest pounded like a drum. When she wiped the rain from her flushed face, she spied an approaching taxi, ran out and quickly hailed it. She sank into the shadows of the back seat, and with a shaky voice, gave the driver her home address.
Chapter Seventeen
“Why are you crying, Thammie?”
Samantha lifted her head from her pillow. Her nephew stood in the bedroom doorway, his small hand clutching the doorknob. As young as he was, his face was riddled with concern for her. With haste, she wiped away her tears and took a deep breath to control her sobs. “Aunt Sammie thought about something sad, that's all. Everything is alright, buddy. But I could use a hug.” She opened her arms. The small boy didn't pause, running into them, throwing his arms around her neck and squeezing with all his might.
Calmer Secrets: Calmer Girls 2 (Calmer Girls Series) Page 14