by Lisa Marie
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I really don’t know.” I begin to cry, and Sierra wraps her arms around me.
My cell rings again and it’s a number I don’t recognize. Hesitantly I answer it.
“Farrow Connoley?” The woman’s voice asks.
“Yes.” I sniff and wipe my nose on the back of my hand, wishing I had some tissues right now.
“This is Christine Singleton, Kasen’s agent. I have arranged for a private flight for you back to North Carolina.”
“You did?” I hiccup.
“I did.” She quietly assures me.
“Thank you.”
The streetlights blur past the window as Sierra holds my hand the whole way to the airport. I knew I would be going back to Apex, but I didn’t think it would be this soon.
*
Six hours later, I land in North Carolina. My seatbelt is off before the cabin door opens for me. I need to get to Kasen. I turn my phone back on and begin chanting, “Come on, come on” as it restarts. I begin stabbing at the glass with my fingertip.
ME: Just landed. Be there as soon as I can.
The flight attendant informs me there is a car waiting for me on the tarmac, and the driver has been instructed to take me directly to the hospital as per Christine’s orders. The attendant is just pissing me off. I want to rush out there and get in the car, so I can be with Kasen. See Mama. She won’t open the door.
Finally the plane stops moving and the attendant walks to the door. I am out of my seat before everything is opened and rushing down the steps before they are secured. Looking out across the tarmac, I see a man in a suit walking towards me. “Ms. Connoley,” he calls. “This way please.” He waves to the waiting car. I nod and rush in his direction. Clambering into the back, he closes the door for me. I swipe at my phone’s screen again and notice it’s seven in the morning. I’m going to have to call Thomas soon. In the twenty minutes to the hospital, I text Sierra, call Thomas, and try countless times to reach Kasen. Why isn’t he answering his phone?
We pull up to the front of the hospital, and I see him, sitting under the flag beside the flowerbed. His legs are crossed, and his sunglasses and beanie are in place. He doesn’t notice me as I exit the car. He doesn’t notice me until I sit beside him. He looks so small. So alone.
Raising his gaze, he realizes I’m here, desperately grabbing for my hand and pulling me toward him. Tears roll from his eyes to the tip of his nose as he looks at the grass below him. We don’t speak. There are no words to express the loss a son feels when he loses his mother. The sadness is unbearable, and the pain is unthinkable. When my car pulled up I felt it. The emptiness created by her passing. He’s holding me, bunching the bottom my sweater up in his fists. Sobs racking his body as he releases his feelings into the air. I smooth his hair and rub his back offering comfort and solace.
As the sun climbs higher in the sky, I can feel the heat beating down on me. Kasen’s tears are intermittent, and his sobs have all but stopped. He picks at the grass in silence, reaching out to me when he needs my comfort, and I sit in silence waiting for him to be ready to go. My cell phone buzzes for what seems to be the hundredth time since I sat under the flag.
Flipping his sunglasses up just enough to rub his eyes, Kasen takes a deep breath and stands, helping me to my feet. We walk hand in hand to hospital parking where his car waits. I take the keys from his hand and unlock the passenger door for him. Cupping his face in my hands, I touch his lips gently with mine before rounding the car and climbing in the driver’s seat and steering toward Mama’s house.
Chapter 29
Approaching the private road, we notice reporters and cameras camped out along the ditch on both sides of the road. They perk up when they notice us nearing. Cameras come out and thousands of images are taken for the last quarter mile. My vision shifts between the country road, the reporters and Kasen, who is now pissed. “What the hell?” He snarls.
“How did they find out?” I whisper in awe as I navigate the car to up the private drive to the house, where we are safe from prying eyes. I park as close to the house as the drive will allow and throw the car into park. Looking over at Kasen, his elbow is resting on the door and his hand is cradling his forehead. “It’s the press, babe. They find out everything.” He opens the car door and looks back at me. “Nothing is sacred,” he hisses and closes the car door. I exit the car and follow closely behind him.
He sits at the table and I cautiously approach him. I run my hand over his head and he turns into me pressing his forehead into my stomach, while his hands grasp my hips. “She was at Bingo with Grace,” he begins, but gets lost in his sorrow. I notice the peach cobbler on the countertop, not even a piece taken from it, tea steeping in the pot. Mama was hoping for a regular Wednesday night with her best friend. My breath stutters and I squeeze Kasen a little closer. “She’s gone, Farrow,” He mumbles into my sweater. “She’s gone.”
My phone buzzes from my back pocket, and I let out an audible sigh. Kasen removes it from my pocket and looks at the screen. “Um, babe…” He passes it up to me. Looking at the screen, I have eight voicemails and twenty three missed texts. “You should take care of those. I’m going to take a shower.” He stands and kisses me firmly on the cheek. Kasen stops on the stairs and gazes at a picture on the wall before climbing the stairs to the bathroom. I walk over to the stairs and see the picture he stared at. Kasen and Mama in the wildflower patch to the side of the house when he was young.
Walking back toward the kitchen, I call my voicemail.
“Hi, Farrow, it’s Thomas, call me as soon as you receive this.” I delete and wait for the next one.
“Farrow, Thomas. I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”
“Hi, Farrow, it’s Sierra. Hope Kasen’s mom is okay. Please call me back as soon as you can. If you need anything, just call me, okay?”
I continue to listen to the voicemails.
“Hi, babe.” It’s Kasen. “I just got to the hospital. Turning off my phone soon.” In the background I hear lots of sounds. Distant voices, voices on the intercom, and Kasen’s breathing has picked up. It sounds like he’s running. “Mama? What’s going on? MAMA!” Then I hear a loud crash. I believe the phone dropped. My tears flow again. That’s why he didn’t answer me. He lost his phone.
I walk back into the kitchen and pour the steeped tea into the jug, adding a cup of sugar like Mama taught me. Dialing Thomas, I pour myself a glass of tea and wait for his answer. On the third ring he picks it up.
“Thomas, speaking.” Abrupt as ever.
“Hi, Thomas. Farrow. Sorry about the text earlier. It was too early to call…”
“Is Mrs. Wells alright?” He feigns concern.
“Uh. No. She passed.” I hold back my tears for someone that really cares.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” he pauses briefly before continuing. “When will you be back?”
“Jesus, Thomas. I don’t know.” I sigh into the phone. “She JUST died.”
“I apologize.”
“Look, Thomas, I don’t know when I will be back. I’ll call you in a week.” I stab at the screen and end my call. What a jerk. I can’t wait to be finished with EI.
Next, before I turn off my phone and go to Kasen, I call the local police and request that they come to the property line and ensure no reporters make their way to the house. I reach the top step and Kasen is not in the bathroom. Confusion sets in when I reach his bedroom and it is empty. I hear the faint sound of his acoustic guitar from behind me. Slowly, I follow the sound down the hall and stop in the doorway of Mama’s room. An old fashioned wicker rocking chair sits in the corner by the large bay window that looks out to the back of the house by the pond. Kasen sits on the foot of the bed playing a song I have never heard before. Quietly singing about setting sail and past the horizons. As I quietly enter the room and lean on the wall across from him just listening, he looks up and continues to play as I quietly enter t
he room and lean on the wall across from him just listening. He finishes and lowers his gaze.
“What song was that?” I ask.
Releasing a silent laugh, he looks at me and smiles a sad smile. “Boats and Birds by Gregory and the Hawk.” He shrugs. “It felt right.”
“You keep doing what feels right, babe. No one can tell you differently.” I reach for his hand and join him on the bed. I look out the window as Kasen begins to play again. We sit together, thinking about Mama.
Chapter 30
Kasen
I just dropped Farrow off at the airport. Unfortunately, she had to go back and finish her contract. Five more weeks and she is done, five more weeks until the release of DIRTY. The reporter’s presence has lessened at the end of my drive, although there are still a few that wait to get pictures or yell questions at my passing car. Fortunately, the ones that remain give me my space. The state police have helped immensely, working alongside the security detail that was hired for me. As long as no one makes their way onto my property, I’m okay with them being there. It’s what I signed up for.
I walk through the house and out to the porch swing in the back. I sit carefully and swing my legs up so I’m laying down listening to the calm of the night. Thinking about Mama and Farrow. I lay here for what feels like hours when I decide that in order to move past this, I have to move forward and finish what I started. Standing, I round the house and make my way to my car. I’m doing what feels right – what I know is right. At the end of my drive, I turn towards my future.
The light is fading when I arrive, and the orange hew of dusk covers everything in sight. My tires spin as we roll up the drive, gravel popping below the rubber, to stop just in front of the massive porch and throw the car in park. Climbing out of the car, I lean on the roof of my car and stare at the house that I plan on turning into a home with Farrow. It’s a Victorian farmhouse. The porch runs the length of the front of the pale blue building, with a covered balcony directly above the main door. Large pillars support the overhang and old fashioned slide windows line the house. Farrow hasn’t even seen it yet. For the first time in weeks, I’m smiling. A genuine smile.
Pushing myself off the car, I walk to the side of the house where there is a small grove of trees with thick branches and trunks. Looking around, I see the remains of decorative benches that were placed beneath the leaves, protected from the sun. A rusty old bike is leaning against the house. There’s no rubber on the tires, but it’s there watching over the property like a guardian on this muggy August night.
Continuing on the path to the back of the house I see it. A huge open area, plenty of room for kids to play, but the centerpiece…a huge magnolia tree. The trunk is so thick, there is NO way I could wrap my arms around it. I’ve missed the flowers this year, but I can’t wait to show them to Farrow next year. She probably has never seen a magnolia tree when it blooms. The dark green leaves remind me of kites as they fall from the branches.
It couldn’t get any more perfect than this. I back away and return to my car, deciding that tomorrow I will call the renovation team and get this home ready for us. I know Farrow was upset when I purchased this property for us, but at the time she didn’t understand my intentions. My car kicks up gravel as I leave the drive and head back to Mama’s house. Knowing full well that tomorrow I am moving forward with my plan to sell the family home and renovating the only place I want to be with Farrow.
**
Late August in North Carolina is hot and humid during the day. You feel like you are breathing in a steam room and your shirt gets wet when you just THINK about going outside. Renovations have to take place now for my plan to come together. I have hired two teams to collaborate on this project and I need them to finish the job as quickly as possible. DIRTY’s L.A. release is on October tenth, which is less than six weeks away and we still have a lot of work to get done.
My realtor called me this morning. There’s a potential renter for the family home, and the family wants to move in on the fifteenth of September. Two weeks. I won’t be here anyways. I leave again tomorrow. Photo ops, more interviews, rubbing elbows and hobnobbing with the elite. I accept the offer and will be taking in the home one last time this evening with my realtor, who will organize the packing up and storage of everything until they can be moved into our new place.
Walking the property one last time, I climb the ladder to the treefort. One rung at a time, memories come at me with each step.
Braydon falling out of the treefort and breaking his arm.
Hiding in the treefort when we ate Mama’s pie for breakfast. Oh, she was so mad at us.
Sitting up here crying after Braydon died.
Making love to Farrow under this tree.
I climb inside and pull out my phone. Swiping the screen I need to call my girl. She answers on the first ring.
“Hi, baby.” I hum into the phone. “How much do you miss me?” My fingers trace the gap between the slats of wood that make the floorboard of this fort.
“I miss you, Kasen. I can’t wait to be done with this place. It’s getting out of hand here.” She sounds exasperated. I know she’s biting the inside of her cheek and scratching her thumb with her fingernail. She always does that when she’s stressed out. “The fans are starting to wait for me on the sidewalk of my workplace.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not even the famous one!” Farrow squeals and I hear a thud, followed by her moan.
“Did you just slam your head on the desk?” I laugh at her.
“Yes.” Her voice is soft and muffled. I know she is speaking into her elbow.
We both fall into quiet laughter.
“I’m laying here, in my treefort…” I pause and wait for her retaliation.
“House, Kasen.” She doesn’t disappoint.
“Shhh. Quiet You!” I scold playfully. “So, as I was saying. I’m laying in my tree FORT, and I was thinking about when we made love under my tree. How sweet your mouth tasted when I kissed your soft lips. Do you remember, Farrow?” I growl. I can hear her breathing change.
“Kasen, I’m at work.” She whisper-hisses at me.
“And I am in my tree fort thinking about unbuttoning your blouse and rolling your nipples between my lips, until they bead like pebbles and you tug on my hair.” I begin to harden at the memory, and I can hear her gasp slightly. “My tongue tracing the path from your breasts to your belly button.” My fingertips are tracing the seam of my zipper now. The tickling pleasure makes me strain at the seam.
“Kasen, you aren’t playing fair. I’m surrounded by co-workers.” She whines and I smile, knowing that I’m successful in my torture.
“Remember when I opened your jeans and licked you from hip to hip? Biting gently at each destination? And remember when I tugged your panties with my teeth as I traced your lips with my finger through the thin cotton?”
She moans quietly.
“What are you doing, Farrow?” I ask as I pop the button on my denim and slowly tease the zipper down.
“I locked myself in the janitorial room, Kasen. My fingers are teasing me through my slacks.”
“Open your zipper, babe.” I gently command, while snaking my hand into my boxers, and I run my hand up my length.
“Tell me what to do, Kasen.” She’s breathy, needy.
“I want you to tell me if you’re wet.” I groan as I grip my base tightly, teasing my balls with my pinkie. With a sharp intake of air she confirms that she is indeed wet without any words. The sound she makes is pure ecstasy. I know she’s licking her bottom lip and rolling her hips rubbing herself off into her hand. “If I were there, babe, I would slowly insert two fingers and rub your front wall with every slow thrust of your hips.” She gasps, and I tighten the grip on my shaft.
“My tongue would dance in your folds and my teeth would caress your clit. I would have you rocking into my movements, as you scream my name while melting in my mouth.” I can hear her nearing her release, she�
��s grunting and her breathing has picked up. I stroke faster trying to match her intensity.
“Kasen.” She gasps and I know she is soaring high right now, while slowly circling herself and ticking out the last of her orgasm. Her voice is like permission granted as I lift my shirt and come on my stomach.
“Farrow?” I ask
“Yes, babe?” She’s reeling in the afterglow. She practically sings to me.
“Did you come in your pants?”
* * *
Farrow
I return to my desk and oddly enough, my mood is much better. Huh, I guess a good self-induced orgasm can do that to you. Kasen will be in town tomorrow and I can’t wait to see him. It’s only been a couple days, but I miss being with him morning, noon and night.
Lost in thought, Patrick stops by my desk and informs me that it’s 3:30. Quitting time. The panic comes back. Thank goodness I have a security detail; the hordes of fans are getting crazy.
I turn off my computer and walk to the front doors. I am quickly ushered to the waiting car, while fans wait with cameras. I feel violated. I feel like a celebrity and now I know why Kasen did not want to be in LA. I get it. I understand it and I would never push this on anyone. Ever. It sucks.
Arriving at my walkway, I see a bunch of wildflowers leaning against my front door. Smiling, I bend down and pick them up burying my face into the purples and yellows, inhaling their sweet aroma. He truly makes me happy. I enter the house, lock the door behind me and head to the shower. It’s been a long day of work and phone sex. I can’t believe I had phone sex! Oh my God. In the janitorial closet of all places. I shake my head and look in the mirror. Instantly, a thought fills my head and fuels my need for a shower! I am sending Kasen a naked picture! ACK! I have never done this, but what the hell!?
I tug off my blouse and slacks. Quickly, I run a brush through my locks. I know I have no need to rush, but I feel that if I don’t do this now, I will lose all my courage and not send one. I pull off my bra and panties and make sure I don’t have any lines from them. I decide to run a bath instead. It will give those lines a chance to fade a bit before the picture. As the bath fills, I twist and turn my body making sure the lines are gone, then I realize how silly I am being as I am only sending him one picture and it is going to be the best one, the rest will be deleted from my phone.