by Wendy Owens
I laugh.
“Did I say something funny?” I hear the familiar sharpness in his voice from my childhood when I was being scolded.
“Hilarious, actually. Kitten never completed an honest day of work in her life. Do you even know why we broke up?”
“Does it matter?” he says, and I can tell over the phone he’s gritting his teeth.
“Probably not to you, but I had to fire her. She was more interested in talking on the phone with her friends and shopping online than actually assisting me. I’m not even sure why I am telling you this; it’s not as if it’s any of your business.”
“You’re my business,” he interjects. This infuriates me. I haven’t been his business for a very long time. The moment the police found me and I was returned to my father, he hired a nanny to watch over me. That was until he could ship me off to boarding school.
“Screw you,” I snarl.
“Fine, if that’s how it’s going to be between us then maybe I should give my lawyer a call.” A long time ago my father lost his bargaining power with me when I started making my own money. Recently, he stumbled across a new tactic.
“And now we’re resorting to threats, not much changes with you does it?”
“It’s not an empty threat, son.”
“There’s nothing you can take from me. I don’t need your money,” I remind him, but we both know it’s not the money he’s referring to.
“No, I’m not talking about you.” My breath catches in my throat as his threat fills my ears. I remain silent, but he knows what my lack of words means. He always knows exactly how to hurt people and my silence tells him he knows how to hurt me. Just like he hurt my mother. And I hate him for it.
“Honestly,” he continues. “It’s overdue. I’ve been considering it for some time now. After all, if I let people take what’s mine and do nothing about it, how long until the next guy off the street thinks he could do the same. My inaction would be an invitation.”
“I’m not a possession.”
“You’re my son. That makes you mine.”
“I hate you.”
“Well, fortunately for you, I love you.” His words feel like a storm, catching me up in them, throwing me around like a ship lost at sea, ricocheting my soul off the rocks when I reach the shore. Beating me until all that is left is my body, black and blue. I’ve never met anyone who can wield the word love like such a weapon.
“So what, I bring Kitten to Africa, and you leave the Andersons alone?” I push.
“I’d certainly think about it.” And with those words, I know the truth. He’d never keep his word. He would let me take Kitten to Africa and then he’d still go after them. I know if I don’t agree he will most certainly go after the Andersons immediately.
I swallow a lump in my throat that feels like it’s going to suffocate me. Focusing on my words, making certain my voice does not quiver I say, “Don’t call me again.” A severe knot forms in my stomach and that familiar disgust returns. The one where I’m reminded that I share DNA with the man I just hung up on.
It was a high profile case. People go missing every day, but not the wife and son of a billionaire. Father played the media like a finely tuned instrument. He knew exactly what to say to make himself look like the perfect victim. People were in a frenzy. If this could happen to a family like ours, what would keep it from happening to theirs?
Even after Mom killed herself, he somehow managed to spin it that what the kidnappers did drove her to it. I knew the truth, though. He knew I knew the truth too, and that’s why he always hated me. Mom despised him so much that death was the only way she could escape him. Had she known he would find me, she would have never left me. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
It was me who picked Dale Anderson up from prison after he was released. Father assumed I did it to piss him off, but he’d never understand. Dale was the father that my mother wanted me to have. His wife Janet, she was supposed to become my mother. The woman who brought me into this world knew I had a better shot at a happy life with them. She placed me with them, not carelessly, but with great thought and care.
They were all naive. They thought they could change my name and raise me as their own. I would have a chance to live a normal life. But I was a Calloway. A truth I would never escape and neither would the Andersons.
I exhale, lurching forward and collapsing onto my bed. I close my eyes, welcoming the sweet, sweet silence of sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Kenzie
* * *
I flip the phone repeatedly around in my fingertips. I’ve imagined the conversation over and over again in my mind. What words I should use to not sound like an absolute nutcase. I’ve planned out my arguments, a rebuttal for anything she might have to say.
Anna has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She’s been the person who has lifted me up out of the darkest times, as well as the one person I can trust to always tell it like it is. If she thinks I’m impetuous, she won’t hesitate to share this with me.
Shaking my head, I slide my finger across the front of my phone and dial her international number. She’s certain to find out sooner or later that I’m heading to Africa with a man I barely know to do a job I know I’m probably unqualified for.
The house is eerily quiet as I wait for her to answer the phone. It’s like I’m waiting for judgment. There’s an excited squeal on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Oh my God Kenz, I’m so excited it’s you,” I hear my friend’s voice say. Anna is usually calm, not often losing herself to emotional outbursts. This was nothing like her.
“Anna?” I confirm.
She laughs.
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day and then bam, you called. Crazy isn’t it?”
“Umm… maybe you should think about switching to decaf,” I tease.
“Okay, I am a bit pumped, I know. I must sound like a crazy woman, but I have news!” she exclaims, and I can tell over the phone she’s about to burst.
I lift the cup of tea to my lips and take a sip. I don’t even know what possessed me to make tea in the first place. I mean seriously, it’s like drinking a hot cup of dirty water. Then I remember because we’re out of sweet and glorious coffee, and if I don’t get my caffeine fix soon, someone might die. “So, is this news you want to share, or do you plan on making me guess?”
“Oh!” She nearly shouts. “I never even thought of that. That’s fun. Yeah, you should guess.”
“Seriously?” I scoff. “I was kidding.”
“Oh come one,” she begs. “Where’s my fun loving Kenz?” Playing along might soften the blow of the news I need to give her. Perhaps telling her about Africa while she’s in this mood won’t be so bad after all.
“I don’t know,” I pause, trying to imagine what could make my mild mannered friend so excited. “You and Holden finally did the deed.”
There’s a gasp, then, “okay, I’m not sure what to be more appalled by. The fact that you just called it doing the deed or that you think this soon after having a baby, sex is even a thing.”
“Fine, I suck at this guessing thing, just tell me.”
“You are absolutely no fun,” she announces boldly.
“Look,” I grunt. “I’m having a fugly hair day and cramps from hell. Spill it, sister.”
I can’t help but crack a small smile when I hear Anna snickering on the other end of the line. The other end of the line that happens to be all the way across an ocean. Okay, my smile is gone again.
“You know that book I was working on?”
“Um, kinda hard to forget it. It’s amazing.”
“Well ...” she starts, her voice practically vibrating.
“No way!” I shout, the sullen shell of myself falling away.
“Nothing’s final,” she quickly adds the disclaimer. “But I sent it to my old publishing company and Harry Weingotner—”
“Big nose H
arry?” I laugh.
“That’s mean. Harry’s sweet.”
“Yes, he is, and he also is in possession of one of the biggest schnozzes I’ve had the misfortune of witnessing in my life. But that doesn’t matter. What did old Harry boy say?”
I hear her swallow hard before sucking in a sharp breath. “He said it’s good, like superb good.”
“Of course, it’s good.” Anna has never understood her potential like those around her. She was the most talented girl in our high school, and even managed to put some of our college professors to shame with her intellect, but if you ask her, she thinks she’s typically average. “Are they publishing it, then?”
“He’s going to recommend it for publication, so now it’s just waiting to see if everyone else at the office agrees.”
“Oh, they’ll agree. It’s brilliant.”
“I don’t know about brilliant,” Anna laughs.
“I’m so proud of you girl,” I say, noticing one of my sneakers is unlaced. I had thoroughly planned to go for a run when I slid my curves into a pair of yoga pants, but then the couch was calling my name. It’s so rare to be alone at my parents’ house; I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a quiet moment.
“Thanks, I can’t believe this is my life. I’m a mom now, and Holden, and the book. It’s like I’m just waiting for everything to fall apart.” The excitement fades from her voice.
“Don’t do that,” I demand.
“Do what?” she quips defensively.
“That thing…where you start to think just because Jack screwed you over everyone else will too,” I declare firmly. It’s one thing to get cold feet and call off your wedding. It’s another to walk in on your fiancé screwing the neighbor from across the hall just before your wedding.
“I guess. But —”
“But what?” I snap firmly.
“Nothing.”
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” I huff in frustration.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to. I know you. You’re still sitting there telling yourself not to let yourself get too excited because it’s inevitable something bad will happen.”
“What’s wrong with that? At least I won’t be disappointed,” she points out.
“How can you enjoy life when you’re always waiting for it to implode before your eyes? You deserve life in the clouds. You paid your time with that ass.”
“Come on, Jack wasn’t ... okay, he was pretty terrible.”
“Exactly,” I agree.
“Okay, you’re right, I want to focus on the positivity happening. No more talk about something going bad. How are things in your life?” she questions, and I gulp anxiously at her question.
Here it is, the chance for me to tell her that I’m grabbing life by the horns just like she did. She can’t fault me for that, right? I open my mouth, “just having fun being young and dumb.” What the hell, Kenzie? I ask myself, thoroughly disappointed in my cowardice.
“Oh yeah?” She eagerly presses for details. “Hanging out in the clouds a bit yourself these days, huh?”
“You know that’s not for me. I like it on the ground,” I answer, giving up on the tea and moving into the kitchen to dump it down the sink.
“Since when?” she asks, and I can imagine her skeptical glare. I don’t answer. This apparently gives her a license to dig deeper. “Are you talking to Ben yet?”
“Nope,” I answer quickly.
“What’s your mom think about that whole thing?” Anna asks, but she’s known my mom for long enough to know exactly what she thinks. I’m not getting any younger. I should marry him, work at the bakery, and start having babies. It worked for her.
“Honestly, for the first time in a long time, I don’t care what she thinks.”
“What?” She gasps. “That woman has driven you crazy since we met.”
“That’s just it. I keep living the life she wants me to live or doing what Ben wants me to do. When do I get to make decisions for myself?”
“Kenz, I love you with all my heart, but I have never known you to do anything you don’t want to do,” she says.
“I guess.” I shrug even though she can’t see me.
“So let’s hear it, what’s really going on?” she coaxes me.
I think about her question. There’s no easy answer. I’m not sure what’s going on, except for the fact that I was miserable. Now, I’m finally excited about something.
“I suppose I’m ready for my adventure,” I answer, placing the mug in the sink and making my way back to the comfort of the oversized couch in our living room.
“Oh yeah?” she asks, almost taunting me.
“Yeah,” I reply. Africa. Tell her about Africa.
“Like rolling around naked on satin sheets in a pile of money adventure, or sell all your stuff and fly off to England without a plan adventure?” she asks, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, well, now that you put it that way, an adventure that includes both those things would be fun.” Here it is, I think. Here’s your chance. “But maybe I’ll go to Africa instead.”
“Africa?” She catches the hint as if she were a bloodhound.
“Yeah—” I start. “So, about that. I have a bit of a surprise.”
“Oh Lord, the last time you surprised me I didn’t poop for a week.”
I laugh a loud belly laugh adding, “And statements like that are why we’re best friends and always will be.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the Bert to your Ernie, now let’s hear it.” She cuts straight through my procrastination. “What crazy thing have you cooked up and is it going to require me flying somewhere to bail you out of jail?”
“I like to think of us more as Thelma and Louise,” I correct her.
“You mean the two nutjobs who drive off a cliff in the end?”
“Exactly!” I exclaim.
“Seems fair. Now stop avoiding the question, what’s this thing about Africa?” she asks again.
Taking a deep breath, I finally blurt out, “I got a job.”
“A job? What does Africa have to do with you getting a job? Is it in Africa or something?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And how exactly does one go about getting a job in Africa just out of the blue, if you don’t mind me asking?” Her voice is heavy with skepticism.
“Remember the photographer I did the job for?” I remind her casually.
“You mean the one who likes to take inappropriate showers in the middle of a work day in front of his employees,” she says sarcastically.
“Now wait, that wasn’t exactly in front of me and in his defense, he had slipped in a pile of puppy poo,” I say, defending my new employer.
“Something smells funny, and it’s not the puppy poo,” she pointedly adds.
“Wait a second,” I snarl. “What’s so hard to believe about him wanting me to help on this job? Did it ever cross your mind that just maybe I impressed him that much?”
“Kenz, I’m saying that you didn’t do a good job. I’m sure you were amazing, but why wouldn’t he go out and find someone more ...”
“More what?” I snap. I understand what she means, and part of me even agrees with her, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
“All I’m trying to say is that you don’t have any work history in photography, why wouldn’t he try and find someone with that skill set?”
“He likes my skill set,” I announce, my voice frank.
“I’m just hoping that’s not the only skill set he’s after,” she says as if warning me.
“Wow, so that’s what you think of me.”
“No, that’s what I think of a man I have never met, and you barely know.”
I shake my head as if to tell myself she’s wrong. “He’s not like that.” I huff. “I gotta go.”
“Where?”
“To find a liquor store and drink it,” I groan.
“Don’t be like that. You know I just worry about you.”
“Like I worried about you when you took off to England?”
“Touché. So you're sure you want to do this?”
"So sure I went to the Southside Clinic this morning and got a Typhoid shot."
"You hate needles," she reminds me.
"Exactly," I confirm before sighing. In a soft tone, I add, “I need this.”
I wait for her to say something. Maybe yell at me or explain that I could be walking into a very dangerous situation. Perhaps she’ll sound more like my mother and tell me that I should call Ben. At last, she says in a gentle voice, “Then you should go.”
“What?”
She sighs deeply. “All I know is England changed my life. If I hadn’t crossed an ocean, I think I’d still be searching for myself five years from now.”
“Oh, Anna,” I breathe.
“Just promise me you’ll check in.”
“Absolutely!” My voice cracks. “I love you, girl.”
“Like a fat kid loves cake, forever and always.”
“Damn it,” I groan.
“What’s wrong?”
“Now I want cake,” I say.
She laughs. “You better get some then, it’s feeding time anyway.”
I cringe and add, “Just so you know, it’s okay if we never discuss your udders again.”
Anna laughs a belly laugh this time. “Don’t worry, it’ll be your turn one day.”
“You’re my favorite thing, Anna, my very favorite,” I say, smiling, and know it’s true.
“Back atcha.” I hear her final words, a break in the line, and then silence.
Chapter Fourteen
Ben
* * *
“What do you want me to say to that?” I ask, looking into Kenzie’s wide eyes.
“How about the truth?”
“You have a great ass,” I reply, careful to make sure she sees my devilish grin. She shoves my shoulder. I love when she tries to assert her strength, even though she knows I could easily throw her over my shoulder and carry her into the bedroom. I doubt she’d put up a fight if I tried to have my way with her.