Текст книги "The Girl of Sand & Fog"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

She beams. “No. It’s OK. But it’s really sweet that you offered.”

I turn into my driveway. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

“Nope, that’s OK.” Zoe frowns. “Whose car is that and what the heck kind of car is it?”

A sleek, foreign sport car is parked where the Mercedes had been.

I pull my keys from the ignition. “I’ve never seen a car like that before.” I make a face. “But I’m pretty sure it’s Alan’s.”

“So everything is good. Right?”

I slouch back in my seat. “Good? I don’t know if it’s good. My mom’s not talking to me about it. And I’m not prying because Bobby’s right. It’s their shit and it’s better that I stay out of it.”

 Zoe nods in approval. “My mom says whenever I hear them fight all night that my only job is to be happy. Which is totally confusing, because I can’t be happy when they’re fighting and when I am happy she grounds me. Like she did over Jake.”

We both start laughing again.

I open my door. “Do you want to wait here, I’ll just be a sec, or do you want to come in?”

Zoe unbuckles fast. “Definitely in.”

When I step through the front door, Ethan barrels into me, wrapping his arms around my legs. I set down my keys on the console table and lift him up onto my hip.

“What’s wrong, little buddy?”

He lifts his face from my shoulder. “Is Aarsi still here?” he whispers fiercely.

My eyes go wide. “Her car is gone. I don’t think so. Why?”

“I don’t want her to catch me. Don’t want to go to Grandma’s with Krystal and Eric. Want to stay with Mom.”

I kiss him on the cheek and set him on his feet. “I think you’re safe. You don’t have to hide anymore, Ethan. Where’s Mom?”

He stares up at me. “In the studio.”

I frown. “Still?”

He takes off without answering me and disappears down the hall.

“God, he’s so cute,” Zoe says.

“He looks just like my grandpa Jack.”

Zoe looks around the house with her nose slightly lifted in the air. “Something smells good.”

“Lourdes must be cooking. Are you hungry?”

Zoe nods enthusiastically. “That popcorn didn’t do it. I could definitely eat.”

We go into the kitchen to find Lourdes hard at work.

“Hi, Lourdes. How long until dinner is ready?”

She arches a brow. “Ethan has already eaten. I did not know you would be here for dinner. You will have to wait. I’m busy now.”

I peek into the oven. “Wait? Why? There’s braciole.”

“That is not for you, mi niña. You want braciole you tell me you will be here. I am not a restaurant. That is for Mrs. Harris and Señor Alan. A special dinner for them. You wait until I’m done. Then you can cook yourself a grilled cheese.”

I give her the wide puppy-dog eyes. “But it smells so good. And braciole is my favorite.”

Well, that worked brilliantly.

She doesn’t even look at me. She stares intently at the tablet beside her, chopping vegetables somehow without chopping herself.

Her eyes shift to me briefly. “It is Señor Alan’s favorite, too. That is why I make it. For him. Not you.”

Zoe chokes back a laugh, but my cheeks burn. Fuck. I’ve only been gone five hours. Everything feels totally out of whack again.

I sink down heavily on a barstool. “Where is Alan, anyway?”

She points with her chin. “He is in there.”

Zoe’s eyes glow impishly as she leans in to me. “He’s in the cabinet? Way to go, Chrissie. She’s got him hog-tied now.”

We both laugh.

Lourdes rebukes us with her eyes. “Señor Alan is in the nursery. He has been there all evening with Khloe. I have been watching. It is why I am cooking him braciole tonight. A man who does not love his children is not a real man. Even if they are as cute as Señor Bobby, you should not sleep with them unless you are positive he will love his children. Remember that, chica. Much happens in a woman’s life beyond her control. But a real man always loves his children.”

My entire body is on fire.

Oh fuck.

Does everyone know my personal stuff that I’m sleeping with Bobby?

Did they have a group meeting without me?

“Let’s bail, Zoe. We can eat out.”

I turn and her attention is glued to the tablet. She’s all mushy and emotional. She looks at Lourdes. “I’d make him braciole, too. That’s got to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen a guy do.”

Lourdes smiles. “Is he still sitting with her, crying?”

Zoe nods.

Crying?

I rip the iPad away from her.

Oh God.

Alan is sitting there on the bench with Khloe, cuddling her against his chest and crying.

I can’t breathe.

It feels like there is a knife stuck in my stomach.

My insides are roiling again.

I can forgive Zoe—she’s not thoughtless, only a ditz—but Lourdes? How could she say those things with me in the room?

“A man who doesn’t shed tears over his children will never be a good father,” Lourdes tells Zoe. “Señor Alan will be a very good father. I am not worried any longer.”

It’s like there is a pillow on my face, darkening the world and suffocating me. Without a word to either of them, I run from the kitchen. I’m in the foyer when the tears let go.

“Kaley,” I hear Zoe call from behind me.

I stop my forward motion, but I can’t stop everything rumbling through me.

Why do they lie about me and not her? Why does Alan love Khloe and not me? I’m ashamed of what I’m feeling because in this moment I truly hate her, and it’s not her fault. She’s just a baby. But why her and not me?

I’m walking in circles, shaking my hands, trying to calm the sudden rush of too much inside me. It’s a shock like seeing a horrific traffic accident. Only it’s not an ugly thing. It was beautiful, it was loving, it was right, and I hate everyone for it.

Zoe clutches my shoulders and whirls me around. “Oh, Kaley, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper, gasping with every breath. “But I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. This shit stops tonight. It feels like it’s killing me.”

Zoe’s eyes are enormous on her face. “What are you going to do?”

I reach for my keys on the console table, see Alan’s, and take those instead. It’s time to get him someplace away from Chrissie and have it out finally. He won’t chase after me. Not this daughter. But I’m pretty fucking sure he’ll chase after his car.

CHAPTER 19

Bang. Bang. Thud.

“Zoe Kennedy, what is the matter with you?” a voice bellows, shattering the airwaves as something hits the wall.

I jerk awake to find Mr. Kennedy standing in the open doorway, messy as if he’s just climbed from bed, wearing boxers, a t-shirt and an open robe.

Oh crap, he’s frantic.

Alan must be here.

Zoe pulls slowly from sleep, rolls over and grabs her phone from the bedside table. “Jeez, Dad, it’s 7:30 a.m.”

Ian looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

He crosses to the room and sinks down on Zoe’s bed. “Really, that’s what you’re worried about? How early it is? You weren’t joking last night. You stole a Bugatti Veyron Super Sport. It’s parked in my driveway. A $2.4 million car. Have you lost your mind, girl?”

Zoe flips over toward me, eyes enormous and fixed on my face. “Kaley! We stole a $2.4 million car! I knew it was a bad idea.”

Oh fuck.

Don’t fold on me now, Zoe.

I struggle to remain calm because there is entirely too much anxiety in the room, I don’t want to get swept away in their panic and lose my nerve, and Alan’s here and it’s time to get this over with finally.

I push the hair back from my face. “Well, how was I supposed to know it was worth that much? It’s foreign.”

Ian shakes his head. “I’m not even going to ask why you girls stole Alan’s Manzone’s car last night. Get up. Get dressed. Get moving. He is in my kitchen, pissed off and demanding to speak with you, Kaley.”

An internal prick of distress; I ignore it.

My lips pucker anyway. “See, I told you he’d follow his car.”

Zoe’s eyes somehow grow larger. “You’re not going to do it, are you? I thought you were just letting off steam. I didn’t think you’d really go through with it.”

I arch a brow. “Well, you thought wrong. Of course I’m doing it. It would be stupid to come this far and not finish.”

“Do what?” Ian’s face snaps up anxiously.

“Jeez, Dad, do you have to know everything?” Zoe makes an aggravated growl and stares at her father. “Can you get out of here so we can get dressed?”

Ian springs to his feet. “I’ll wait in the hallway, but you girls better not take long. I want you in that kitchen apologizing to him in five minutes. And before you argue with me, Zoe, he can call the cops for what you did. So unless jail is what you two girls are into, you better start moving fast.”

The door closes behind him and Zoe’s panic kicks up ten notches. “Jail. I don’t want to go jail,” she wails as she pulls on a pair of sweats.

I roll my eyes. “We’re not going to jail. Alan won’t even get mad at me. Denial may be a terminal addiction for my dad, but instinct won’t ever let him do something that would hurt me. He never has and he never will. And he can’t send you to jail without me. I stole the car.”

“My dad made it sound to me like Alan was pretty mad.”

Once I’ve put on my clothes, I run my fingers through my hair, and then do a fast check in the mirror. “He won’t even yell. I promise. Try not to freak out, Zoe, and don’t say anything. Let me do all the talking. It’s all good.”

“Good? It’s a freaking nightmare.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and we race for the door.

I follow Ian into the kitchen, and Zoe hangs behind me ten steps like she’s going to cut out or something.

I falter for a moment in the doorway. Yep, there’s Alan, in the clothes he wore yesterday, standing at the kitchen island sipping coffee. The only unexpected part of this scene is the hour. 7:30 a.m. Didn’t see that one coming.

I lean back against the counter, cross my arms and meet his black stare with my own black stare.

“I believe you have something that’s mine,” Alan says, his voice clipped and controlled.

My gaze shifts to Zoe, hovering close to her dad by the fridge. “What did I tell you? Nothing. Whatever I do he never gets angry at me. I swear one of these days I’m going to explode. I can’t take it anymore.”

Zoe’s eyes flash with sad comprehension, but she says nothing.

Alan sets down his coffee. “Oh, believe me, Kaley, I am very angry. I just prefer not to yell in Ian’s kitchen. Go grab your things. Get in the car. We’ll go somewhere where we can both yell until you can explain to me what stealing my car is about.”

Nope, last thing I want is to end this now. I search for something to say that will piss him off.

“Did you have a nice night with my mother?”

That worked.

His face reddens.

“That’s what this is about? You stole my car because you’re angry that I spent the night with your mother?”

I take a moment to look around the kitchen, making sure Alan knows I’m in control of this and that he isn’t, and then I shift my gaze back to him.

“Why should I be angry about that?” I jeer, but maintain an air of indifference. “You’ve used my mom as an emotional crash pad my entire life. I’ve watched this movie before. I know how it ends. So why don’t you leave before you fuck up my family even more than it is already?”

He stares at me, saying nothing, like he doesn’t know how to manage this or even what this is about.

Internally I start to twirl.

“I’m not doing anything of the sort, Kaley.”

Fuck. Calm. Patient. Tolerant, and Jesus Christ, how can he stare at me and not know what’s happening here?

It can’t be true.

Linda can’t be right.

Alan would have to be blind not to see what’s obvious.

I scrunch my mouth. I start to shake my head, flipping my hair, and fight to hold my emotions in check.

“Go get your stuff. I’ll drive you home.”

I look away from him. “I don’t have to go anywhere with you. You’re not my father.”

The second I say father my stomach shudders.

He stares at me, shaking his head.

“I suggest you get moving. Now, Kaley.”

My fingers curl around the counter until my knuckles turn white. “I should have wrecked the fucking car!”

Crap, I showed my anger first.

I look at him.

Black eyes rapidly search my face as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going with me and can’t.

My stomach does another painful somersault.

“I don’t give a damn about the car, Kaley.” He leans across the counter, removes a rolling pin from a kitchen countertop utensil set, and holds it out to me. “Wreck away. Destroy the car if you think it will help you. Then maybe you’ll be ready to talk to me and you can explain to me why you’re angry.”

Really?

Why I’m angry?

Are you cruel?

Stupid?

Or just dense like everyone says?

You’re my fucking father; why shouldn’t I be angry?

“I don’t want to talk to you,” I murmur in an embarrassingly weak voice. “It’s pointless. It always has been. I’m not leaving here with you. Call the cops if you want to. I don’t care.”

The second I say those words my insides go cold because I realize they’re true; it is pointless. I won’t ever get the truth by talking to him.

“I’m trying to cut you a break here, Kaley.”

Is that what you call this?

Cutting me a break?

“You’re not cutting me a break,” I snap with more emotion than I want to show. “That’s not what you’re doing here. Denial may be a terminal addiction for you, but even you should be able to figure out that I’m not a child anymore and I’m not stupid.”

He rakes a hand through his hair again. “I know you’re not a child. I’ve never thought you were stupid. I know you’ve been through a lot lately. It’s why I’m willing to let this go and take you home.”

“Now you’re just being patronizing and stupid.”

I push away from the counter and run from the room. I dropped to my knees beside the bed, grab my tote, and lift out the box Zoe and I bought at the pharmacy last night. GeneSys Home Paternity Test. Try being fucking clueless with this shoved in your face.

I go back into the kitchen, stare at him, and slam it down on the counter in front of him.

Alan’s face pales. “Where did you get that?”

“You can buy more than condoms at the drug store.”

He grimaces, and I can feel that internally he’s as chaotic as I am now. Getting the picture at last, Dad? Even as frightened as I am, something akin to crippling relief floods my veins, a sensation that this part of my life will be over soon, and that my dad might finally just talk straight to me and explain to me why—

“I’m not going to take that.” Alan’s furious voice pulls me from my thought. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve embarrassed me. Are you happy?”

I gape at him.

Embarrassed?

Happy?

I fight not to throw the box at him, and instead calmly remove and then unwrap one long Q-tip looking instrument.

I hold it out to him. “Touch it inside your cheek and give it back to me. I can do the rest myself.”

His eyes move so rapidly as he studies me I can’t tell what he’s thinking or how this is hitting him or what direction this is going to go.

“This is about Khloe,” he announces as if a lightbulb just turned on in his head.

Infuriating and wrong.

“Your constant anger at me, everything you’ve done this morning, it is about your sister,” he continues in disbelief. He meets my gaze directly, unwaveringly. “Yes, she’s my daughter, you are going to have to figure out a way to be OK with that, and I don’t need to take a DNA test, Kaley. There is no doubt in my mind and I won’t do it. I would never hurt your mother that way. Your mother’s word is enough for me. It should be enough for you, too.”

Oh God, Alan, there’s only two of us talking here. Why am I not even the focus of this discussion for you? Why is it always my mother? Only now it’s Khloe also and not me.

The tears are pushing upward.

I have to get out of the room.

I won’t let him see me cry.

“God, you’re an idiot,” I scream, startling everyone, before I grab the box off the counter.

I hurry down the hallway to Zoe’s room. My thoughts and emotions are spinning. I shoved a DNA test in his face, and even after that, for him, it wasn’t about me.

The tears erupt and I sink down on the bed.

I feel arms around me.

I turn into Zoe.

“I’m sorry, Kaley. I know that was awful for you. But Alan is here. I know you missed it. But he was trying. He just didn’t get it. You shouldn’t have run. Why didn’t you just ask him if he’s your dad? Why didn’t you talk to him? Demand the truth.”

I lift my face, frantically brushing at the streaming wetness on my cheeks. “Because I could see it in his eyes. He is never going to tell me the truth. He would have lied to me. I didn’t want to hear him say the words to my face. I don’t think I could take that.”

*  *  *

When I pull into my garage, Mom’s car is gone. Perfect.

I unbuckle my seat belt and grab my bag.

“Kaley, you’re not really going to do it, are you?”

My mouth drops as I look at Zoe, nervous crinkle in her brow and ridiculously fretful. Can she really wonder that after the scene in her kitchen this morning?

“Yep. I’m doing it,” I announce, opening the car door. “I don’t know why you are still freaked out. Nothing bad happened. Jeez, Alan didn’t even call my mom. My phone would have blown up hours ago if he had. He never gets mad. He never tells on me. It’s all good. Can you stop worrying? Are you coming?”

Zoe lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes. I’m coming. I’m hoping you’ll change your mind. I don’t think this is the way to do it. It feels kind of wrong to me.”

I slam shut my door and wait as she climbs from the passenger seat.

I stare at her across the roof. “I won’t get the truth any other way.”

Her pale brows crinkle more. “Just promise me you won’t do anything crazy after you get it or I won’t help you.”

I roll my eyes. “Way to have my back, Zoe.”

She crosses her arms.

I widen my eyes. “I promise.”

I open the door into the house and the sound hits me like a brick. Twins running wild. Someone has turned on the audio system all through the rooms. Katy Perry. Gag me.

I go into the kitchen and find Aarsi and Krystal sitting together like besties on the family room floor, with Khloe in a bouncer between them.

“Where’s Mom?”

Aarsi clicks off the music. “Out with Lourdes.”

I go down the hall into my bedroom and close the door behind Zoe. I sink down on the bed, pull the box out of the bag, and start reading the instructions.

Kinship DNA test.

Designed to test siblings.

I can’t believe Zoe thought of this.

Why is she panicking now?

Why are there five sticks included? Are there really families that fucked up in the world? Directions look simple enough. Swab inside of cheek. Return tester to foil pouch. Seal. Mail. Six to eight weeks for results.

Easy beans.

What’s this form?

I pull it out and start reading. Oh shit. Why can’t they just give me the results by e-mail?

I turn to Zoe. She’s leaning back against my headboard, phone in hand and rapidly texting.

My eyes narrow. “What are you doing? You better not be telling Bobby about any of this.”

Her face snaps up and her cheeks redden. “No. I’m not. I promised I wouldn’t. But I probably should tell him everything. And by the way, I do have a life other than you, Kaley. I’m texting Jake, if you must know.”

She scrunches up her face at me and looks down at her phone again.

I hold out the form. “You need to fill this out. I don’t know your address. I have to have the results mailed somewhere. And I can’t have them sent here.”

She grabs the form and studies it, shaking her head. “I don’t want my name on that thing.”

“Well, we can’t put mine on it. Jeez, it’s for mailing purposes. It’s no big deal.”

I take a pen from my bag and hand it to her. With an aggravated sigh, she snatches it from my hand, plops onto her stomach on the bed, and starts writing.

I open one swab, swipe my mouth and put it back into the foil. There, done. Now I just have to figure out how to swipe Khloe’s cheek without Aarsi or Krystal seeing me.

My legs start jiggling as I wait for Zoe to finish filling out the form. “Do you think this is really going to work? What if it’s just a racket and doesn’t work?”

She frowns, double-checking the form as she chews on the end of the pen. “Of course it’s going to work. They wouldn’t sell these tests if they didn’t work. Besides, I saw this on an episode of Law & Order. This girl wanted to prove some rich guy was her father, but he wouldn’t take the test, so she tracked down her half brother and did a kinship test. Great episode. Riveting.”

Really, Zoe?

Your big idea came from TV?

Oh well, it’s probably better than anything we could think up. They do research those cop dramas pretty well.

“Are you done yet with that form?”

“Uh-huh. I think so,” she says with a nod. “We need to write down which tester belongs to which one of you.”

“No we don’t. We’re only sending two.”

Her eyes light up. “Yep. That’s right. We can skip that step.”

I sigh and rise from the bed. “Here’s the step we can’t skip. We’ve got to figure out a way to get Khloe away from Aarsi.”

I leave the box, the form, and the extra testers on the bed, and slip a fresh one for Khloe into my pocket. She’s got to nap sometime.

Back in the family room, I sink down on the sofa close to Krystal and Zoe does it again—hangs back in the kitchen, hovering and anxious.

Krystal turns her face to look at me. “What?”

I shrug, innocent. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you sitting behind me, staring at me?”

I make a face. “I’m your sister. Where should I be?”

Krystal rolls her eyes, slaps shut her laptop, and leaves the room. Aarsi continues reading her textbook, glancing at me in between highlighting.

“Where do you go to school?”

She lifts her face. “UCLA. I’m in graduate school.”

“I thought you were younger than that. What are you studying?”

“Environmental economics.”

“Why? Do you plan to cure the world’s inequalities through wealth redistribution like every other college airhead out there too ashamed to admit they’re in college so they can make money? Or do you really believe all that shit about micro-managing fairness?”

She slams shut her book.

Ah.

I’ve pissed her off.

“I need to make the boys their lunch. Can you sit with Khloe for a while? She refuses to sleep today.”

Winning.

I smile. “Sure.”

I wait until she’s down the hallway.

I rip open the foil and pull out the stick. “Zoe, keep watch. Make sure she doesn’t see me.”

A loud frustrated sigh comes from the kitchen, but she moves from the counter to the doorway as a lookout.

I stare down into my sister’s face and I feel it, an out of nowhere jab that this is wrong—damn it, Zoe, thanks a lot—but I gently ease the tip into Khloe’s mouth anyway. She just stares up at me with Mom’s giant blue eyes. I quickly take the tester away and shove it into the foil.

Not even a tear from Khloe. For some reason that makes me feel lousier about doing this. Her trust is an absolutely shaming thing.

I kiss her on the forehead. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

I cross to the kitchen. “Play with Khloe while I get everything ready to mail.”

Zoe shakes her head at me, but goes into the family room and sinks down on the carpet close to my sister.

My pulse is beating double time as I make my way down the hall. I’ve got everything I need for undeniable, irrevocable truth, but it doesn’t feel the way I thought it would.

I’m nervous. Agitated. Afraid and sad.

Maybe Bobby is right. Maybe it’s not always a good thing to know everything. Doing that to Khloe definitely felt wrong.

I’m angry that they’ve lied to me.

Does that make this right?

I’m not at all certain anymore, and halfway to convincing myself to toss everything in the trash and not do it.

I step into my room.

“Kaley! What is wrong with you?”

My heart stops.

Krystal.

Sitting on my bed with the box.

And what the fuck has she done with my testers?

“How dare you come into my room and snoop?” I snap, rummaging through the wrappers and used test sticks on the bed.

Oh God.

They’re all ripped open.

I don’t know which one is mine.

Krystal springs to her feet. “Tell me what’s going on or I’m calling Mom.”

I whirl on her. “You call Mom, if you so much as breathe one word of this to anyone, and so help me, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Her eyes cloud over, stricken. “Sneaking around the house and now this. What is it you’re trying to prove?”

I let out a ragged breath. “Duh, Krystal, you can’t be that dumb. I want to know if Khloe and I are half sisters or whole sisters. I have a right to know and you don’t have a right to stop me.”

I do another frantic study of the testing kit. Shit, why did she mess up the sticks? I can’t tell which one I used and which ones she destroyed.

She tries to stop my hands. “Then ask Mom. Don’t do this. Something terrible will happen if you do.”

I drop Khloe’s sample into the mailing envelope and then, carefully one by one, the others. “I’m mailing it off. And you’re not stopping me.”

“Do you know how wrong this is?”

I give her the stare. “Yeah. About as wrong as you thinking messing with the other testers would matter.”

She crosses her arms, challengingly. “Oh no, I didn’t just open them. I used them for their intended purpose. One of those is Eric’s. One of those is Ethan’s. One of those is mine.”

“What?” I frown. Why would she do that?

She shoves her face close to mine. “That’s how wrong this is, Kaley. Swabbing all of us is as wrong as you only swabbing yourself and Khloe and thinking that makes it OK. This is bad. It’s wrong. You can’t do this without hurting all of us. You didn’t even think of that, did you?”

I seal the mailing envelope. “For a genius, Krystal, you are pretty not-smart at times. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know which tester is which. I’m just mailing all of them off. All I need is two to match. Bingo. I win.”

She looks away, lower lips quivering and on the verge of tears as if she’s struggling hard against saying something she doesn’t want to tell me.

“It’s too late, Krystal. And I have a right to know who my father is.”

Her eyes are giant, frightened, glassy saucers in her face when she looks at me. “For a genius, you are pretty not-smart at times yourself. Don’t do this, Kaley. Please. I’m begging you. You’re going to ruin everything.”