by Cora Brent
“Good.” I kissed him back. “I bought new fabric softener. And I am doing your laundry. Expect your clothes to smell like a springtime meadow.”
He shook his head. “There’s no way to stop you, is there?”
“No.”
Once Kellan was gone I threw on a t-shirt and cutoff shorts and began separating laundry into piles. I would have offered to let Thomas throw in whatever clothes he needed cleaned but he wasn’t back from his swim yet and I couldn’t very well barge into his room and start scavenging for dirty laundry.
I whistled as I carried the basket out of the apartment, down the hall and around the corner to the laundry room. I was glad to find the machines free.
After adding a load of darks and starting up the washer I left the room and nearly collided with Samantha, who appeared to be on her way to the parking lot.
“Hey, Taylor,” Sam greeted me with a smile.
We’d become quite friendly and even hung out on occasion. Her boyfriend, Damian, was at her side and offered me a shy smile. He remembered me too well from my mean girl high school years and had been slower to warm up but he’d gotten past that after realizing I wasn’t the same Taylor Briggs I used to be.
We all chatted for a few minutes and then they took off to go meet Sam’s parents for lunch. I had a smile on my face as I traveled the short distance back to my apartment.
My apartment.
I hadn’t really thought of it that way yet. It was Kellan’s apartment. Well, Kellan’s and Thomas’s. In the course of my post-Castle Court time I’d moved around to four different apartments with roommates who were not ideal. When my last one kicked me out I had no choice but to leave my few remaining furniture pieces behind because I had no way to move them and no place to move them to without shelling out additional money that I didn’t have. None of those places had ever felt like home, not really. They were just weigh stations on the road of my disintegrating world. I always felt hollow and alone while living there, even if someone else was at home.
Now, for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged somewhere. I belonged to someone. And he belonged to me.
Yes, I had a lot of reasons to smile these days.
My smile vanished when I turned the corner.
He’d gained weight and grown some patchy facial hair that simply made his face look dirty. He used to be good looking. That was what I thought back when I was a kid and my big brother invited him to our house for holiday break. And a few years later, when he stood in front of an elegant Episcopalian altar and married my sister, his country club handsome looks were still intact. They were no longer intact.
“And what the fuck do you want?” I demanded, sounding bravely furious as my mind raced.
Is he alone?
How the hell did he know I lived here?
I tucked the laundry basket under one arm and grabbed for my phone in case I needed to call 911 but it wasn’t in my back pocket. I must have left it in the apartment.
Peter Crestwood, for years disdainfully referred to in my head as Petri Dish, had been casually leaning against the wall and apparently awaiting my return. One leg was bent with the sole of his black shoe planted on the wall and his arms were crossed as if he were posing.
He broke into a grin. “There you are,” he said and left the wall with his arms outstretched.
If he thought he was getting a hug then he was crazier than a fish with tits. I held up my laundry basket, hoping it would be effective as a shield.
Peter laughed. At least he dropped his arms. “How are you, Taylor?”
“I’m great. You look like shit, though.”
He stopped laughing. His eyes became cold. “I see no reason to get nasty.”
“I have plenty of reasons to get nasty. Would you like me to describe them all?”
Peter sighed with irritation and ran his meaty fingers through his thinning hair. “I just came out here to try and smooth things over. The family shouldn’t be fractured this way.”
“I’m not your family. And that’s a rich sentiment coming from you after you and your wife have done everything you can to slander me.”
“Slander.” The word was hilarious to him. He bubbled over with mirth.
I had no patience for his laughter. “How did you know where I lived? I don’t exactly broadcast my life on social media. And we don’t run in the same circles these days.”
He shrugged. “It’s not hard to find people in this day and age. Sierra told me about running into you at work. She told me about your boyfriend. We got curious.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t even have a boyfriend then.”
Peter swiveled and checked out the apartment door. “So that’s his place, huh? Does he know what a lying cunt you are?”
The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “Your IQ points must be vanishing with your hair. You are out of your fucking mind.”
“And you’re a thief and a cock tease,” he informed me as casually as if he was calling me a brunette.
The ‘cock tease’ insult boiled my blood but I had to set that aside for the moment. He could have found another girl to taunt and attack. That wasn’t why he was here.
But thief…
“How many times do I have to tell you mentally deficient motherfuckers that I know absolutely nothing about any money? Which, by the way, was stolen to begin with. But you and Sierra and even Aiden, you’re so ridiculous and stupid that you just invented this fairy tale that Taylor ran away with what’s rightfully yours. Well, go fuck yourself.”
I thought about throwing the laundry basket at his fat head and running. He wouldn’t dare chase me. But this was my home. And I was going to stand my ground.
Peter was unimpressed with my outburst. The look he threw my way was an art form of withering disgust. “Don’t give me that shit. Fairy tale?” He shook his head. “You know a lot more than you pretend to. And don’t tell me you’ve convinced yourself that we pulled the idea out of thin air.”
Didn’t they?
I’d assumed they’d come to this conclusion on their own. That assumption might have been wrong.
“All right, I’ll play along. Who told you that I have the scoop on the long lost Briggs fortune?”
Peter cocked his head. He was enjoying this moment. “He did.”
When I was in fifth grade I was hit square in the chest during dodge ball and the air left my lungs for a moment. This felt the same way. I didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was.
“He wouldn’t have,” I said, willing my voice to sound braver than I felt. “Because it isn’t true. He didn’t tell me anything, not even that day…”
My voice trailed off. My vision swam. No, I wouldn’t cry. Not here in front of Petri Dish. My father, for all his terrible flaws, loved me. Didn’t he? I’d always known I was his favorite child. There was no truth in the accusation. Peter was just playing with my head.
“Taylor?”
I’d forgotten Thomas was out swimming his laps. His towel was draped around his neck and beads of water still rolled down his golden chest. He took in the scene of me standing there in near tears while brandishing a plastic laundry basket in self defense. Then his eyes moved to Peter and immediately hardened into a glare.
“And along comes the boyfriend to save the day.” Pete laughed at his non-existent wit.
“Who the hell are you?” Thomas wanted to know.
“Don’t worry, boyfriend. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I informed Peter and then remembered how Thomas had arrived at Closet Exchange when Sierra was there. She’d even snapped a photo of him. At the time I just thought she was being obnoxious but she’d done it for a reason. She thought if she found out who he was, then she’d find out where I was. She’d never seen Kellan and she figured Thomas was the guy I was staying with. Now both she and Peter had decided that Thomas was my boyfriend.
The idea was disquieting. I felt like I’d accident
ally painted a target on Thomas’s back. Then I dismissed the idea. The only reason they would have any interest in Thomas is as a means to track me down. Peter with his soft gut and skinny arms would surely get his ass handed to him in a heartbeat if he raised a hand against Thomas.
“I need to get going,” Peter said after checking his watch. He still owned the rose gold Bulgari that retailed for as much as an economy car. Then he looked up and smiled. “We’ll have a family meeting, Taylor. Real soon.” He wagged a repulsive finger. “The clock is running out of hours, princess.”
It was a weird thing to say. Then again, he was the Petri Dish. He was a weirdo.
“Fuck you,” I said, a proper send off.
Peter pretended he didn’t hear me. He climbed behind the wheel of his Tesla and sped out of the parking lot.
Thomas still stood there dripping on the sidewalk and now he gave me a perplexed look. “What was that all about?”
“Just my asshole brother-in-law passing through,” I grumbled. Then I forced a smile. “Did you have a good swim?”
Kellan would have definitely pressed me for more information but Thomas was far too polite. He didn’t mention anything else about the encounter and retreated to the shower. The next time I saw him he was decked out in a baseball uniform and said he was heading down to Dream Fields to get some practice pitches in before the game this afternoon.
When I went to go switch the laundry I was a little apprehensive in case there was another pasty-faced psycho waiting to accost me, but the journey was uneventful. I finished three loads of laundry, folded everything and then decided to make some chicken salad for lunch. Lately I’d discovered that I really enjoyed cooking. I still wasn’t very good at it but I’d started watching Food Network and scouring various blogs for ideas. Simple dishes were easy enough for me to figure out.
Pleased with the way the chicken salad came out, I made myself a sandwich between two slices of toasted whole wheat bread and stored the rest in the fridge for Kellan to have when he came home.
I was sitting on the couch that had formerly served as my bed and scrolling through the Weather Channel’s mobile site to satisfy my daily weather fix when Kellan threw the door open.
“Honey,” he declared. “I’m home!”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about Peter but he was in such a good mood. He swept me off the couch, spun me around and then dipped me in ballroom dancing style before setting me upright and kissing me as hungrily as if he hadn’t had the chance to do so in six months. He was pleased to find the chicken salad and we shared a cozy few hours just snuggling and watching reruns of The Office before it was time to go to Thomas’s game.
“Wow,” I said when we got to Dream Fields. I’d been expecting some batting cages and a small field but this was a whole other level. “This place is pretty impressive.”
Kellan took my hand. “Dalton knew what he was doing. He had a vision of a professional level training facility that would be accessible to the public.”
Speaking of Dalton Tremaine, we ran into him after acquiring our tickets. I remembered him from Cadence’s wedding. He and his wife Cami made a beautiful couple and their little daughter was the image of her mother. Dalton was happy to see us and he had a lot of nice things to say about Thomas’s pitching talent. Then a Dream Fields employee tapped him on the shoulder and Dalton quickly said he needed to go take care of something but he hoped we enjoyed the game.
There were a lot of people attending. The players had been culled from the state’s most promising college and minor league baseball talent. We spotted Thomas stretching out on the field. Kellan waved and hollered like a maniac but Thomas was in a zone of concentration and didn’t look up.
The game began and Kellan bought us a tub of popcorn to share. I held his arm and set my cheek on his shoulder and felt so completely happy that the remaining shadows of the Petri Dish episode were dissolved.
What I knew about sports would fit into a pill bottle but even I was impressed with Thomas’s athleticism. His form was perfect, his execution flawless as he threw strike after strike. The crowd loved him, roaring with appreciation, none cheering louder or longer than his proud big brother.
“That’s my kid brother,” Kellan declared to anyone who was listening. He stood up on the bleachers and clapped and hooted after Thomas made yet another pivotal out.
I smiled up at Kellan and thought I’d never loved him more than I did just then as he clapped with all his might while wearing his pride and love for his brother all over his face.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kellan
I was already going to be late for class.
I could hear the persistent whine of Taylor’s hair dryer still going in the bathroom and I checked the time again. She would assume I’d left already but I wasn’t going anywhere until we talked.
The hair dryer switched off and she was humming to herself, something familiar. I recognized the opening bars of Over the Rainbow. Abruptly an object clattered to the tile floor.
“Fuck!” she yelled, then muttered a few more choice words out of irritation and I smiled. My profane angel. Oh, how I loved her.
I’d always figured I was immune to this thunderstruck feeling. I thought so even though I was raised in a family that was filled with celebrated love stories. And I still thought so even after witnessing the intractable Derek fall for sweet Paige. Now I knew what it was like. Now I knew that there was nothing so powerful.
Moments later Taylor emerged, clad in a gray and black checkered dress that might look odd on someone else but confirmed her status as worthy of any fashion runway. Her thick hair fell in glorious freshly blow dried waves and she was distracted, trying to fasten around her neck the only piece of jewelry I ever saw her wear because it was the only piece of jewelry she’d refused to sell back when she was selling off anything she could spare. The heart-shaped silver necklace that her grandmother had given her looked small and inexpensive. Its value was purely sentimental, kind of like the watch I strapped around my wrist every morning. I rarely utilized it for its practical purpose. It had been a gift from my parents and was engraved with my name on the back. I’d probably wear it until I was an old man. The chain was too short on Taylor’s necklace. I’d buy her a new chain for it as soon as I had a little extra cash.
“What did you drop?” I asked and she yelped.
“Kellan! You almost gave me a stroke.”
“Sorry.”
Her mouth twitched. She wasn’t angry. “I dropped a bottle of foundation. It shattered into many pieces. There’s now a sizeable beige stain on your bathroom floor.”
“That sucks. Why didn’t you tell me your brother-in-law showed up here yesterday?”
Her face fell and her eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds. “I was going to. And then I just wanted to forget all about it. Did Thomas tell you? He was just coming back from the pool when the Petri Dish made an unwelcome stop.”
“Thomas mentioned it right before he left for school a little while ago. He thought I knew, that you must have told me. And he was worried about you. Said the guy gave him the creeps.”
“That makes sense. Petri Dish is a creepy guy.”
I pulled out the kitchen chair beside me and waited for her to take a seat.
She sighed and touched my hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I should have. I just didn’t want to throw my excess baggage at your head.”
I felt my eyes narrowing. “Taylor, if some skid mark decides to stalk and threaten my girlfriend, I want to know about it!”
She flinched at my tone. “I’m sorry.” She folded her hands in her lap and lowered her head. “I wasn’t trying to lie to you and I didn’t mean to hide something important.”
“Hey.” I softened my voice and tipped her chin up. She looked miserable. That made me miserable.
“I worry, that’s all,” I assured her. “Because I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I sighe
d and pulled her into my lap. “What did he say? Did he threaten you?”
“Inarticulately,” she muttered and then shrugged. “He’s just blowing hot air. If he intended to do anything he already would have. At least his brother Paul wasn’t with him.”
I had trouble believing what I was hearing. “Their names are Peter and Paul?”
She nodded. “Peter and Paul Crestwood.”
“Do they have a sister named Mary?”
“Yes.” Taylor was confused. “But I never met her. She lives in the Caribbean somewhere. I don’t get it; how did you know her name?”
“Lucky guess,” I said with a chuckle, finding some amusement in knowing that the world included people who named their three kids after musical folk groups of yesteryear.
Then I put all amusement on hold because we were dealing with a serious situation. “He scared you, didn’t he?” I asked her.
“Nah. I’ll just have to learn to walk around with a snow globe in my hand,” she said, making a reference to the time her brother-in-law tried to break into her bedroom as a teenager with god knows what kind of repulsive intentions.
Taylor must have gauged the concern in my face. “He startled me, Kel. That’s all.”
“What did he want?”
“Same old shit. Whine whine whine, ‘You stole our money!’, blah blah blah.” Her expression darkened. “He did say something that caught me off guard. He said my dad was the one who led them to believe he’d given everything to me.” She looked to me for reassurance. “My dad wouldn’t have done that. He wouldn’t have done that because it was never true. I know you don’t think much of my father and most of the time I don’t either, but I can’t imagine that he would have told such a lie.”
I wasn’t so sure. At times people did things that made no sense. Richard Briggs was aware that the vice was closing around his neck. There were no guarantees about anything he might have said or done.
But Taylor was looking at me with anxiety and wanting me to tell her that I believed her father would never have intentionally hurt her.