Rogue Wave: Cake Series Book Five

by Bengtsson, J.

  Emma’s lips parted and her eyes widened. “Is that what happened? You didn’t cheat on her?”

  “No, I didn’t cheat on her. Jesus, what kind of person do you think I am? Does everyone think I cheated?”

  “Not everyone,” Emma answered in halted speech. “Just me and Mom. And Dad and Quinn and Jake. And the dry cleaning lady down the street.”

  “No, not Nancy too.” I laughed despite myself. “Look, if you must know, Sam is going through some big things, and she didn’t want to…”

  “To what?”

  “Drag me along with her. She shut me out of her life, Em. I can’t go back even if I wanted to. Do you understand now?”

  Rocking back in her seat, Emma focused on the tabletop, running her fingers along the wood before finally glancing up at me. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Keith. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “But you still love her?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed, focusing on the grooves, and without looking up, she said, “Sometimes love sucks, doesn’t it? It’s designed to hurt you. The more you love, the worse the pain of losing is. I tried to hold it off, hardened my heart to it, but what I learned was that not having love is worse than losing it in the end.”

  “I don’t know about that. Right about now I wish I’d never loved her.”

  “Do you?”

  Folding my arms on the table, I dropped my head into them. “I don’t know. I hate this. The whole thing – it feels unfinished. It’s been this way since we were teenagers. There’s so much history between us, but things beyond our control always get in the way. You want to know the worst part of our breakup, Em? Sam broke up with me not because she hates me but because she loves me. She wanted me to have everything she couldn’t give me. I think that’s why I can’t move on. We never fell out of love. It’s the story of our lives.”

  “I did the same thing to Finn, but then I saw the error of my ways, and I begged his forgiveness. She might see it too and come back to you, Keith.”

  I shook my head, feeling the heaviness. “She can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, this isn’t about hang-ups, Emma, it’s about life and death and she’s… she’s dying.”

  For a second there I thought I might need to check my sister for a pulse. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to shock her this way when she was eight months pregnant.

  “You can’t tell anyone I told you. Not even the dry cleaning lady. Do you understand?”

  Her mouth had yet to close. “How?”

  “Sam has Huntington’s disease. It attacks the brain cells…”

  Her face faded to ashen white. “I know what Huntington’s is.”

  “And so you know what’s going to happen to her?”

  Emma was stone-still for a moment before she reluctantly nodded her head.

  “She’s trying to spare me, Em, to give me a chance at a life with a wife and kids I can grow old with. But the problem is, I don’t want to grow old with anyone but her. And that’s why I’m stuck spinning in circles until the bitter end.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. No one can know. I promised Sam, and I plan to honor that one promise for her, do you understand?”

  “I do.” She reached across the table and tangled her fingers in my hair. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Who died?” A familiar voice broke into our deep discussion.

  I jerked my head up just as Kyle slid into the booth next to me, and Jake beside Emma.

  “What the hell?” I laughed, the dark cloud dissipating. “Is that you guys under all that hair?”

  The two acknowledged their identities, hidden behind bushy beards and long straggly tresses.

  “I get why Jake’s in disguise,” Emma said. “But don’t you think it’s a bit overkill for you, Kyle? I mean, last I checked, you were still a C-list celebrity.”

  “For your information, Emma, people recognize me all the time, and if someone in here is a fan, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out who Sasquatch here is. So let’s try not to be a bitch, shall we?”

  “Okay, fine, all I was implying was that you were giving yourself a lot of credit.”

  “Oh, I know what you were implying. And speaking of your unplanned pregnancy, did you and Finn use a Ziploc sandwich baggie as protection?”

  “Haha. Good one. Is there a reason your armpits smell like horse slobber?”

  “Oh god,” Jake whined, dropping his head to the table. “Somebody please shut them up.”

  “As the oldest,” I interceded. “I’m calling a truce. You two hug and make up, or get off my planet.”

  Kyle stood and leaned over the table, giving Emma a hug. “You look beautiful, sis.”

  “And you smell wonderful.”

  Kyle beamed, plopping back down into his seat. “Thank you.

  “So, why are you all here?” I asked. “Is this an intervention?”

  “Why does it have to be an intervention for us to hang out together?” Jake asked.

  “Because we never hang out together unless Mom guilts us into it.”

  “Is there a particular reason why we need an intervention, Keith?” Emma asked.

  I thought about it and realized that, no, there actually wasn’t. “Oh, yeah. You’re right. Old habits die hard.”

  “Although…” Jake said, hesitating just enough that I knew whatever he was about to say wouldn’t please me. “I did want to get your take on something. Casey would like to invite Sam to our wedding. It’s just in the planning stages, so if you’re against it, I’ll put up a fight.”

  Kyle coughed out a laugh.

  “You have something to say?”

  “Um…actually, yes, I do, Jake. Did you give up your balls right away, or did she give you a grieving period?”

  “Like you can talk.”

  “Dude, I’m not trying to deny it. Kenzie is my queen. I’ve accepted that. But you… you still seem to think you’ve got some sort of power. Face it. Casey is your Commander in Chief. If she’s decided Sam is coming, there is nothing short of an executive order that will stop her, so stop pretending like you have any say in the wedding planning.”

  Jake was silent for an extended period of time before raising his hand. “I vote that Kyle not be invited to any further intervention lunches.”

  “I second that,” Emma laughed.

  “Hey,” Kyle scoffed. “I thought we kissed and made up.”

  “We only hugged, so I still don’t like you.”

  Kyle tossed his head back, laughing, and the rest of us joined in. Luckily our younger brother was one of those guys who was very hard to offend.

  “So what’s your decision, Keith?” Jake asked. “Yes or no? Do you want Sam to be cut from the guest list or not?”

  I thought about it a moment, knowing Sam would probably say no anyway, and shrugged. “Go ahead. Invite her.”

  “Oh, thank god,” Kyle blurted out. “Jake gets to live another day.”

  The two tussled from across the table, Kyle grabbing ahold of Jake’s shirt and pulling down on the collar. Something caught my eye. Or actually, something didn’t catch my eye. I reached over and yanked on the collar myself. The agate necklace. It was gone.

  “What the hell?” Jake asked, knocking my hand away.

  “The necklace you always wore – where is it?”

  Emma and Kyle glanced between us, as confused by the encounter as Jake.

  “I took it off. Jesus.” Jake rearranged his shirt. “What’s your problem? I didn’t realize I needed to clear my jewelry selection with you.”

  “You never take it off.”

  “Well, I did. What’s wrong with you?” Jake stared at me curiously. “Are you mad?”

  I realized I was probably sounding like a lunatic, so I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Can I ask why you took it off?”

 
“I don’t know. After you gave me that whole line of bullshit that the stone had healing powers, I guess I thought of it like my safety net for a while. But once I met Casey, I realized I didn’t need it anymore. So I took it off. It’s in my safe. It’s nothing against you or the gift you gave me. I mean, I honestly didn’t think you’d care. And I definitely didn’t think you’d accost me over it.”

  “I’m sorry. That was totally uncalled for,” I said, fidgeting long enough that everyone at the table was eyeing me with interest. “Okay, fine. I wasn’t totally honest with you about that necklace. I didn’t find it in the weeds on a cliff. Sam gave it to me. It was her grandfather’s. She believed it protected her, and before she moved away, she gave it to me because she knew I was in a bad place.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed in on me. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Because you wouldn’t have taken it.”

  “Obviously I wouldn’t have taken it.”

  “But it helped you.”

  “But it wasn’t mine. Did Sam even know you gave it to me?”

  “Not until that day in your dressing room. She saw it around your neck.”

  “Oh, my god, Keith. You put me in such a bad position.”

  “No, she was happy you had it. I’m not kidding. The necklace had always brought her comfort, and she was proud to have you wearing it. The thing is, Sam’s going through some pretty heavy stuff, and it might help her to…”

  “I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want. It was a gift.”

  “I’m sure.” No longer pissed at me, Jake relaxed and sat back in his seat. “I don’t need it anymore. Casey’s my agate.”

  36

  Samantha: On the Winning Side

  Weeks passed, then months, and each day got a little easier. The loneliness was something I would have to battle the rest of my life, and the sooner I came to terms with it, the better. I went back to working full time, taking the long way around to avoid Kali’s Surf Shack. As long as I didn’t think too much about what was missing, the pain was bearable. But some nights, alone in my bed, I still wept.

  The last thing I had to tackle was my mother’s house, which had sat untouched for nearly a year. I’d tried several times to walk through those front doors, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t. Although, leaving it to decay wasn’t an option either and it made poor fiscal sense to continue to pour money into a place I never planned to live in again.

  Weeks before I gathered the courage to return, Stewart had gone in and painted over the nasty messages Mom had left for me on the walls. He’d also sold off the antiques and given the rest of the furniture away. Now all that was left for me to do was to box and bag up whatever was left. I doubted I’d find anything I wanted to keep, but the need to uncover more of my past made me take the sorting process seriously.

  “Suck it up, chicky.”

  I dutifully held my breath as Shannon gripped the fastener to the form-fitting gold dress and yanked. The wind sucked out of me, I expelled a very loud swear word.

  “Shhh,” she warned, placing a finger over her lips and gesturing with her eyes to the little bundle of cuteness sleeping in the car seat. “If Audrey wakes up, feeding time’s on you.”

  “Well, then, it won’t take long because the only thing these nipples are secreting is dust.”

  “Speaking of dust,” Shannon said, waving her hand around. “We need to finish up this Pretty Woman makeover montage before I have an asthma attack.”

  Our quest for hidden treasures had led us here, into my mother’s closet and her vast collection of evening gowns. In her early days, Mom had been something of a starlet. Her dream of becoming a movie star was never realized, but she had for a time lived amongst the Hollywood elite. I tried to imagine what she would have been like back when she was my age and still filled with such promise and aspirations. She’d been beautiful and joyful once; the pictures proved it. But that was before disease struck her down like a bolt of lightning and before she’d morphed into the fiend I knew her to be.

  Earlier in the day, on my knees in her closet sifting through what remained of her life, I finally made my peace. The hate I’d been holding onto for so long fell away once I could admit that she too had been a victim of circumstances. I had no choice but to forgive her sins because someday, they would be my own. Shannon had given me ample time to grieve, but once there was a break in the waterworks, she’d offered me a Kleenex with one hand, and held up a gold dress in the other.

  “Oomph,” I groaned, as my organs rearranged just enough for Shannon to get the zipper past the small of my back. This was no small undertaking. Shannon was attempting to squeeze my sporty, size six body into a model-worthy size zero gown.

  “I knew my mom was thin, but I thought she’d just gotten smaller because of the disease. Now I know she was always tiny. I swear, that woman didn’t eat when she was my age.”

  “Um… yeah, I already figured that out.” Shannon stepped out from behind me in her own Hollywood gown – only hers looked like it had been made for a doll. Not only did her forearms stick out several inches from the sleeve, but the floor length number she’d chosen to model fell only to her calf.

  And just like that, my bestie had come through for me again. Our hushed laughter chased away the negative energy. I would get through this somehow.

  “Shannon?”

  Her eyes rolling in their socket, she answered, “Yes, my pretty?”

  “I can’t breathe. My toes are going numb.”

  “This brings up an interesting question,” Shannon said, taking her damn time unzipping me. “If you had to choose between eating tacos every day or being super skinny for the rest of your life, what would you choose – hard or soft tacos?”

  Laughing only obstructed my airflow further. “They’re tacos, who cares?”

  “Exactly!” she exclaimed, finally pushing past the resistance and setting me free. “You’d be surprised how many people get that question wrong.”

  “Well, you know, that’s why we’re friends.”

  “Yes, it is.” And while we were still looking into the mirror, Shannon stroked my hair and said, “You know you have to get the genetic testing done, right?”

  “We’ve been through this a hundred times. There’s no point. I already know the answer.”

  “No, you don’t, Samantha. 50% means just that. It’s the flip of a coin; the difference between having a boy or a girl.”

  I sighed. “I have symptoms, Shan.”

  “Here’s the thing about symptoms. Our minds can trick us into believing something is true when it’s not. How many times have you felt nauseous when someone else has the stomach flu?”

  “I know, it’s just… I’m scared. Right now, I still have hope. If the results come back and I’m on the wrong side of the percentage, then it’s all over for me.”

  “But what if it’s on the right side?”

  “But what if it’s on the wrong?”

  We stood there quietly for a moment, reflecting, before Shannon repeated her earlier line.

  “But what if it’s on the right?”

  * * *

  With the exception of some of my mother’s dresses and jewelry and boxes of paperwork I’d sort through later, I gave Stewart the green light to donate the rest of her things to charity, hoping something good could come of her difficult life. When I arrived home later that day, exhausted from both the mental and physical toll it had taken on me, I noticed a manila envelope propped against my door. There was no postage. No writing.

  A shiver ran through me. I don’t know how I knew, I just did. It was from Keith. Picking it up with shaky hands, I carried it in as if it were a newborn baby. But once I had it safely on my kitchen table, I couldn’t get myself to open it. Why I wasn’t sure, but I flitted around the house, completing chores, until finally I could avoid it no longer. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I sat down on the chair and carefully separated the
sticky paper flap. I pulled out a framed photo and immediately brought it to my chest to give it a hug. Murphy. My baby. I missed him so much, and here he was now, that toothy grin of his brightening my day.

  My smile reached wide as I gave a silent thank you to Keith. Even from afar, he was still looking out for me in his own way. I’d heard a rumor that he was dating again, and although I stayed away from the details, I was comforted by knowing he was doing okay – even if the nagging jealousy ate me up inside on occasion.

  As I laid the envelope down, I noticed a swell at the bottom of the packaging, and when I reached my hand inside and pulled out a small item covered in tissue paper, I knew exactly what it was. With shaking fingers, I tore through the wrapping, squealing when the prize was revealed with a little note that read, “I thought you might need this.”

  Elated, I raised my grandfather’s lucky stone to my lips and whispered, “Yes, I do.”

  37

  Samantha: The Imposter

  I could have waited to be escorted to my seat but, since two thirds of the ushers at Jake and Casey’s wedding had McKallister DNA coursing through their veins, the odds were low I’d make it to a pew without some awkward encounter. Best-case scenario I got a Caldwell brother. Worst case? I got my ex, the man whose heart I’d shoved into a trash compactor and selected ‘power pack’ just to be sure it was sufficiently crushed. No, it was best to find my own seat as far away from the action as possible.

  At the ready, I stood just outside the door to the church, waiting for the coast to clear so I could make my 3-inch-heeled run for it. And I was about to make my move when Keith’s laugh traveled outside, wafting into my ears like a beautiful melody. A hopeful smile crossed my lips. Maybe I hadn’t totally squashed him. Or, more likely, another woman had brought that joy back into his life. I could almost feel the color draining from my face at just the thought of Keith in a happily ever after with a woman who was not me, and I had to actively remind my possessive mind that this was what I had wanted – what I’d asked him to do.