by Chloe Walsh
“Yeah,” Karen sighed. “With Jordan’s father. He’s the only one I’ve ever—well, you know . . . I was crazy about him, I literally drooled after him from for years, but he never saw me.”
Pressing her fingers to her temples, she sighed and let the words fall out of her mouth in a rush. “He was the hottest guy in school—the cliché star-quarterback. In our small town everyone knows everyone and he was practically royalty, but I was two years younger than him and DJ’s baby sister. Off limits . . .” She flinched as she spoke and I couldn’t help but think I was the first person to hear this story. “The night of my brother’s high school graduation, our parents were in Australia, chasing after Colette, so DJ threw a party at our house. It was a huge deal . . . I remember feeling so upset that night,” she confessed sadly. “He was going out of state for college and I felt like I’d lost my chance. I was so afraid I wouldn’t see him . . .”
“You don’t have to tell me if it hurts,” I told her. “Karen, I understand how hard it can be to talk about the past.”
“No, I need to tell someone,” she said almost desperately. “I got all dressed up,” she mumbled. “Like a freaking hooker dressed up and I went downstairs and joined in the party, but it was obvious after a few minutes that I was as invisible to him as I’d always been, so I went to bed feeling like my world had ended . . . but then . . .”
“Then?” I asked thoroughly enthralled in her story.
“He came into my room,” she confessed with a blush. “He was drunk and mistook my room for the DJ’s, but he didn’t leave . . .” She harshly blinked away the tears that were pooling in her brown eyes. “He laid down on my bed with me and just talked. I remember my heart was racing at a hundred miles an hour, but he didn’t try anything. He seemed quite happy to just lay with me and talk. He told me he was going to miss me,” she whispered. “We talked for hours about the silliest mundane things, Lee. And then he fell asleep . . . or so I thought.”
She looked up at me guiltily. “I thought he was asleep so I leaned over and kissed him. His eyes flew open and he grabbed my face, lifted me off him and he just stared at me—like really stared at me like he was looking at me for the first time—and then he was kissing me back.” Shuddering she smiled and whispered. “He set me on fire, Lee. I’ve never felt anything so intense in my life.”
“Oh . . . wow . . .” I squirmed, feeling disturbingly aroused with the whole thing. “Well, keep going.”
“Well, you know how it goes,” she said with a smirk. “He spent the night in my room with me–like all night with me . . .”
“I think I’m in love,” I teased as I fanned myself.
“Don’t be. When I woke up he was gone,” she whispered. “I waited three days for him to show up. To stop by and see DJ. He didn’t. Finally, when I couldn’t take anymore, I rode my bike over to his house like the fool I was and his brother told me he’d decided to leave for college early. He wanted to get settled in before college started.”
“No,” I whispered, feeling my eyes dampening.
“Four weeks later I took a pregnancy test,” she confirmed sadly. “Nine months later Jordan Derek Valentine was born weighing a hefty nine pounds four ounces.”
“What did he say when you told him?” I asked, smiling to myself at her choice of middle name. “Did he come home?”
Karen shifted uncomfortable. “Nothing, because I didn’t tell him. He doesn’t know.”
“What?” I asked in shock. “Did you tell anyone?”
She shook her head.
“What?” I gasped. “Not even your parents or your brother?”
“Our fathers were in business together, Lee—still are,” she mumbled. “Let’s just say that it was safer for everyone that I kept quiet. If my dad or my brother knew they would have killed him and that’s not an exaggeration. They would have killed him for getting me pregnant. I was sixteen at the time—seventeen when I gave birth but still . . . he was eighteen when I conceived. You can imagine the uproar it would have caused between our families.”
“Kyle’s almost four years older than me,” I whispered, hoping she knew I didn’t judge her or that I would never judge her. “I was nineteen when I had Hope.”
“I know you’re not judging me, Lee,” she said softly, catching my meaning. “That’s why I’m telling you this. You kind of remind me of myself.”
“So, who did you . . .”
“Who did I blame?” she asked wryly. “I told them I didn’t know who the baby’s father was. I told them I had been drinking and I couldn’t remember his name.”
“How did you cope on your own?” I asked.
“With great difficulty,” she replied. “It was one of the hardest times in my life.”
“Did he not come home for a visit?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “He came home for a week of winter break during freshman year, but DJ was away with the band and he never bothered to stop by the house.” Rubbing her stomach absentmindedly she added, “I was so tempted to rush over to his house and tell him, but he brought his roommate home with him. They were joined at the freaking hip, and I couldn’t deal with the audience. I was also six months pregnant by then, so any kind of running would have been difficult.”
“You should have told him then, Karen,” I told her, hoping I didn’t sound like a judgmental bitch. “He should have been there to help you. You shouldn’t have had to do it alone.”
“After the baby was born,” she whispered. “I went to see him. I drove all the way to his house. Pulled up out front . . . but when I was getting out of the car, he came out with a woman.”
“Oh no,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks, as I grabbed her hand in sympathy.
“She was so beautiful.” She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. “And he looked so happy—so in love with her . . .”
“So, what did you do?”
“I got back in my car and drove home with my son.” Wiping her eyes, she sighed. “And I promised myself I would leave him alone. I loved him so much, Lee. I didn’t want to ruin his life. I promised myself I would never tell him, but . . .”
“Jordan started asking questions,” I guessed.
Karen nodded. “He’s been asking about his father since he could talk. In the beginning I was able to sweep it in under the rug with a new toy or distract him somehow, but then he became so adamant that I knew I had to do something . . .”
The sound of the front door slamming drilled through my ears and I jumped. “Hang on,” I mumbled as I rushed out to the hallway, but Kyle stalked past me without so much as a sideways glance.
“I need to talk to you,” I called after him as he started to climb the stairs.
“I’m not interested, Lee,” he shot back without turning around.
“It’s important,” I started to say, but Kyle swung around and the look in his eyes caused my throat to dry up.
“I said I’m not interested,” he snarled. “I have a lot on my plate right now, so just back the fuck off.”
I stood frozen to the spot, willing myself not to cry, as Kyle disappeared up the stairs. Pressing my hand against my rib cage I strived to keep calm and not break down, but I honestly didn’t think I could take much more of this . . .
“We’re gonna go.” Karen’s voice broke through my thoughts and I turned around to see that she and Jordan were standing by the door. Her eyes held the world of sympathy as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. “We’ll do this again soon, okay?” she coaxed.
“Yeah,” I whispered, blinking back the tears. “I’d like that.”
“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered when Kyle pulled up outside the entrance to the cemetery.
He didn’t answer me, just stared straight ahead, and I knew the only reason he’d given me a ride was because I’d beat him to the car this morning. When I’d asked him to drop me off to visit Cam, Kyle hadn’t blinked, flinched or batted an eyelid. He’d
just cranked the engine and tore off without responding.
Unfastening my seatbelt, I climbed out and retrieved Hope’s stroller from the trunk before lifting her out of the backseat. When I had her strapped into her stroller, I walked over to his window. “Can you pick us up later?” I asked.
Nothing.
I tapped on the glass and waited form him roll down his window. Eventually he did. “Can you collect us later, Kyle?” I asked as calmly as I could, forcing myself not to show weakness in front of him.
“What time?” He didn’t look at me when he spoke.
“Maybe an hour?” I replied quietly. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Fine,” he muttered before revving the engine and driving off without so much as a backwards glance.
Drying my eyes, I clasped the handles of Hope’s stroller, inhaled a deep breath and made my way down the path of the cemetery.
“You asked me to meet you here,” I puffed when I reached Cam’s grave, out of breath and panting.
Leaning on the handles of Hope’s stroller, I inhaled a few deep, slow breaths. Lord, I needed to get fit. It was disgraceful to be so out of breath from such a short walk—especially at my age.
“Yes, I did,” David Henderson replied in a soft tone as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept his eyes locked on the gravestone of my best friend. “I thought it would be best considering I’m not welcome in your home.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but I couldn’t. David wasn’t welcome at our house and if Kyle caught wind of the fact that his dad had phoned me this morning he would be furious.
“I assume, since I haven’t received a haranguing phone call from my son, you haven’t told him about your father?”
A haranguing what? “I haven’t had the chance to speak to Kyle lately,” I whispered.
“And what about your test results?” he asked kindly. “Was everything all right?”
“Fine,” I said with a blush. “My kidneys are fine. Dr. Michaels says I was very lucky.”
“Well, I have some more good news, Delia,” David said as he leveled me with a stare. “The police arrested your father yesterday. He’s being retained in custody, pending a trial.”
“Oh my god,” I whispered, relief coursing through every inch of my body. He’d been caught. It was over.
Over . . . so why didn’t it feel over?
“Where did they find him?” I asked. “Are you sure, Mr. Henderson?” I didn’t want to get my hopes up if there was the slightest chance Kyle’s dad was wrong.
“One hundred percent,” David replied calmly. “Your father was arrested for speeding in Aspen during the late hours of last night, where the officer on call discovered he was in possession of a stolen car and a substantial quantity of cocaine.”
“Cocaine?” My father wasn’t a drug addict. And alcoholic, yes, but never drugs. “Why would my father have drugs?” I shook my head in confusion. “This makes no sense, Mr. Henderson.”
“Oh, I doubt Jimmy was aware it was in his possession,” David chuckled. “The downside to stealing a car, Delia, is that you never know what may be hidden inside.”
David’s eyes darkened, his jaw strained, and when he spoke I felt a tremor of unease roll through my body. “Your father is facing serious jail time without the charges you intend to press against him,” David growled. “He’ll serve a minimum of twelve years for grand theft auto and drug possession alone.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked nervously. “I shouldn’t press charges?”
David shrugged his shoulders and sighed heavily. “I have a friend in the DA,” he said in a hushed tone as he bent down to ruffle Hope’s curls. “He guaranteed me they have enough on your father as it stands. He believes withdrawing your statement would be best for both cases.”
“Withdrawing my statement?” David was the one who’d phoned the police in the first place. I stared blankly at him. “I’m not following you, Mr. Henderson.”
“Delia, the Grayson trial goes to court next month,” David said with a sigh. “Let’s just say it won’t do your friend here any favors . . .” He gestured to Cam’s gravestone and hissed, “When it is revealed that you’re involved in another case, especially when Rachel’s entire defense rests on them exploiting you as an adulterating troublemaker.”
“I never thought about that,” I gasped, feeling sick at the thought of jeopardizing Cam’s trial. Justice for my best friend was paramount to me. I didn’t care if I didn’t get it for myself—David said daddy would go to prison regardless of whether I pressed charges or not—but there was no way I would risk Rachel Grayson getting away with murder. “Oh my god, what am I going to do,” I whispered. “This is such a mess.”
“This is completely your decision of course, but my advice would be to withdraw your statement,” David replied softly.
Raising his hand he patted my shoulder gently. “Look, talk to Kyle and come to a decision together.”
“I know what I need to do.” I shook my head and blinked back the tears that were filling my eyes. “I’ll withdraw my statement.”
“Would you like a ride to the police station?” he asked politely.
“No.” I shook my head and forced a small smile. “Kyle is collecting me soon. I’ll wait for him, but thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Delia.” Wrapping his coat around himself he nodded once before turning around and walking away.
“Oh.” David turned around and smiled. “And happy St. Valentine’s Day. Have a good one.”
Valentine’s Day.
The perfect occasion to taunt me about my failing relationship.
“Thanks, you, too,” I replied as cheerfully as I could while inside I was breaking apart.
“How’s she doing?” I asked, peering through the gap in the curtains of her hospital door.
“She’s awake now,” Cindy replied, her tone husky with emotion. “But she’s been in and out all night—keeps calling out your name and Frank’s.”
“Have the doctors been around this morning?” I asked quietly, shoving my hands into my jeans pockets to stop them from shaking.
“They’ve administered the morphine pump and upped her dosage.” Cindy sobbed before blowing her nose with a hankie. “Oh god, Kyle,” she cried. “They said she could go any day now.”
Jesus . . .”You look like you need a break,” I choked out, as I forced myself to smile at Cindy’s heartbroken face. “I’ll stay with her.”
Tapping softly on the door, I opened it and slipped inside, my eyes locking on Linda’s gaunt face. “Hey beautiful.”
“Frank,” she gasped as she smiled over at me. “You’re . . . here”
Smiling sadly, I grabbed the chair from beside the door and carried it over to her bed.
Ignoring the sympathetic stare I was receiving from her sister Patty, I sat down and reached for Linda’s hand. “Of course I’m here,” I told her, not bothering to correct my name, before pressing my lips to her hand.
Her hands felt colder than yesterday, her breathing sounded more like a strangled gasp for air, and I could have sworn the light in her eyes was fading. “You didn’t really think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”
“I’ll be outside,” Patty said quietly as she touched my shoulder, but I didn’t move to look at her. I kept my eyes focused on the woman whose hand was in mine and whose life was hanging in the balance.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’ve been doing some really stupid stuff lately,” I told her. “You’d kick my ass if you knew the half of it.”
Linda’s eyes were closed, she was clearly asleep again, but I didn’t stop talking. I rambled on and on, desperate to fill the void of silence and distract myself from the reality of what was happening to her.
I sat for hours, chattering about nothing and everything until my ass was numb from the hard plastic of the chair and my bladder demanded to be relieved, and even then, when th
e sun went down and my phone vibrated in my pocket, I stayed exactly where I was.
Nothing was more important than being here for the only person who had ever been there for me.
Linda Stone was one person who I had no intentions of letting down. I would be there for her like she always been there for me.
I needed to savor my time with her.
Everything else could just wait.
“Thanks again for picking us up, Derek,” Lee mumbled as she placed Hope in her highchair before popping a bowl of mashed potatoes into the microwave to reheat.
Opening the oven door, I threw on a mitt and took out the piece of beef I’d been in the middle of cooking when I’d received Lee’s phone call asking me to come get her and Hope from the police station.
“No problem, Lee,” I replied as calmly as I could when I was anything but.
Kyle had left her and the baby in the goddamn cemetery for three hours and had forgotten to pick her up. And of course, Lee being Lee had trudged off on her own to the police station.
By the time I’d located the keys of Kyle’s old truck and figured out how to open the door of the garage where he kept it, she was a bundle of nerves and in full force flight mode.
“So, what did the cops say?” That was the best thing about this shitty day.
Jimmy Bennett was in jail.
He deserved a lot worse than a cell and three meals a day, but at least he was off the streets. One look at Lee’s face put proof to that pudding.
She covered her bruises with makeup, but if you looked closely enough it was obvious the girl was marked again and I didn’t know who I was more angry with; Jimmy for marking her, or Kyle for being blind to those markings.
I’d remained quiet about the whole Jimmy-Lee-crazy hotel-cleaner-David drama, thinking Kyle would get his shit together and sort everything out, but he hadn’t and I wasn’t getting involved in his business again. He’d as good as told me to stay out of his life, so he could sort his own shit out. Yet here you are taking care of his family again . . .