Two

TWO

SUMMER SURPRISE

I t was wildly unexpected. Kurt’s mother, originally Vanessa Schuler, then Vanessa Butler when she was married to his father, and now Vanessa Marcum, had resurfaced out of the blue, calling him on a warm July day. Kurt had answered his cell, and boom —there she was on the other end of the line, asking to see him.

Vanessa had left her kids back when Kurt was in second grade and Thomasin in kindergarten. From what I knew, the whole family had taken daily verbal and emotional abuse from his father, with the occasional physical outbursts when he was in an alcoholic rage. Any kind of abuse is horrible, but the older they got, the less backhands Thomasin endured, and the fewer punches and, once he was down, kicks Kurt received. What never relented was the daily bombardment of insults meant to degrade them and tear down their self-esteem. Fortunately, Kurt and his sister had each other, and forged a bedrock love for one another. Kurt often said that was sibling alliance at its finest.

They left home when Kurt was in high school and filed paperwork to become an emancipated minor. He had a job, a place to live, and with his boss at the supermarket where he worked vouching for him, he was given probational custody of his sister at seventeen, on the cusp of eighteen. They had family money from their late grandparents, and so went to school and got on with their lives.

When Kurt called me, it was hard to understand him.

“Love, can you take a breath for me?” I asked, pulling over, close to home, not wanting to go all the way there if he was somewhere else.

I could hear him trying to take in air, sounding very close to hyperventilating.

“What’s going on?”

“My mother.”

If I was surprised, which I was, he was shocked to his core. I could only imagine that he was feeling terribly adrift.

“Tell me where you are?”

He explained that they—his mother and her husband and their three children—were staying at the Waldorf Astoria and had secured a reservation at Delphine’s, the newest Michelin star restaurant close by. I stayed on the phone with him as I made a U-turn in the middle of the street, the 2019 Lincoln Navigator I was driving—my work car when I wasn’t protecting Hannah Kage—accelerating smoothly as I headed out to the Gold Coast area. It glided down the road even as I went way over the speed limit. This being Chicago, however, and at nearly six at night, the traffic was like one of Hercules’s labors. It would take me a while to get there.

“You’re on your way?” he prodded.

“Yes, honey, I’ll be there soon.”

“Good. Good.” Deep breath then. “We’re having drinks and appetizers. We’re at a large table near the windows that’s to the right of the stairs leading to, like, a loft area.”

Not as hard to do on a weeknight, but still, notable to get any table at the upscale eatery on such short notice. Unless it wasn’t, and the trip had been planned. I wondered if his mother was trying to impress him or if she was simply used to luxury.

“Save a seat for me.”

“I will,” he rasped. “I have to…go.” He hung up then without another word.

I would be homicidal by the time I got there.

Immediately, I called Thomasin, and got her on the second ring.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” she swore, which was not at all like her. Neither she nor Kurt were big swear-word people. “I cannot believe Vanessa Marcum blindsided her own son.”

She said it as though Vanessa was not her mother as well. “When did he call you?”

“Probably seconds before you. It was quick. He got out, like, three sentences before I heard his voice get all thready and he said he needed to call you.”

“Were you hung up on as well?”

“I was. You know he does that when he gets overwhelmed.”

“I do.”

“All his manners fly right out the window.”

Mine did as well on occasion, so I never got after anyone about that. “Did you know she was in Chicago?”

“Hell no. She hasn’t reached out to me at all. Ever. Not since she left. But that’s smart. I would slam the door right in her face, open it, and slam it again. I mean, George, I’m a mother myself. I would rather cut off an arm, lose my eyes, anything other than being away from my children, and they’re annoying!”

They weren’t. She was making a go at levity for me, and I appreciated it.

“I can’t imagine abandoning my babies, and I definitely wouldn’t leave them with Brad , and he’s a great dad! You know that.”

I did. Her husband was guilty of a lapse in judgment last Christmas, but it had been done with the very best intentions and a pure heart. There was no doubt that Brad Carr worshipped his wife and adored his two sons.

“She left us with a monster,” she said, her voice falling off. After a moment, she cleared her throat. “And she never looked back. We never heard a peep from her. Not an email, not a damn Christmas card, nothing. I know other kids had it worse, but?—”

“We all deal with our own trauma, Thom. Don’t belittle what you and your brother went through. Abandonment is no small thing.”

“Thank you, George.”

We both took a moment.

“Okay, so…what’s her deal?”

“I have absolutely no clue,” she disclosed. “None. I hired a private detective five years ago, didn’t tell Kurt, and all I asked for was the basics.”

“Like was your mother dead or alive.”

“That’s right.”

“And?”

“She remarried, has a son and two daughters, and lives in Scottsdale, Arizona, with her husband, who is a real estate developer.”

“I have a question. Your grandparents left money for you and Kurt. They didn’t leave any for her?”

“They did. She had a trust fund, same as us, that she blew through before she met and married my father.”

“What did your father do for work?” Kurt never wanted to talk about either of his parents, so these were answers I wanted.

“He was a cardiothoracic surgeon, and once he was divorced and we were out of his life, he moved to Boston and was hired at some hospital there. I don’t remember which, didn’t really care. He sent us a letter once he was settled, and I got it because I was the one still in town, finishing up my last two years of high school. Kurt was in college, still paying for our apartment, and we were both working. Mr. Butler—that’s what we had to call him, or sir—sir was good too—didn’t offer to have me go live with him. Of course I was fine with that. Who escapes hell and begs to go back?”

“What did he do in Boston? Same thing?”

“No. First, he was the chief of staff at whatever hospital, and later the chief executive officer, which, I understand, had to be voted on by their board of commissioners.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Kurt told me. The hospital must’ve contacted him in their vetting process.”

“And what did Kurt say?”

“He said he couldn’t speak about the man as he hadn’t spoken to him in over ten years at that point.”

“They hired him, so I guess they didn’t care.”

“I guess not.”

“So your father is a doctor, and he treated you both like trash and then allowed you to go ahead and walk on out of his life?”

“Oh, he moved away before Kurt was even declared an emancipated minor.”

“How?”

“Think about your time in foster care. How many kids there are, how many fall through the cracks. No one checked up on us. From the outside, we looked good. Kurt took such great care of me, no one ever suspected a thing.”

“It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that…he left you.”

“And never looked back. Just like her,” she said flatly. “But you have to give him his due. He was horrible, but he fed and clothed us.”

“The people I know, and you and Brad, for fuck’s sake, all love your kids. I don’t get having children if you’re not going to…I dunno…love them.”

She took a shaky breath. “I know, and I agree.”

“He got remarried too?”

“Yep. He had four kids with his second wife. Four half-siblings I hope never to meet. They don’t need to encounter my venom over a man who—at least from the Facebook posts, from his wife’s Instagram, and from the Boston society pages—is a celebrated physician, philanthropist, and a pillar of his motherfuckin’ community.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle, and after a moment, she joined me.

“It’s so weird to hear you swear.”

“Well, I bear them both deep ill will,” she let me know.

“Kurt would say that’s not healthy.”

“Oh, I know. And I’ve worked hard to get it all out. On a day-to-day basis, I don’t think about either of them. It was me and Kurt for so long, and then me and Brad and his family.”

“His mother,” I goaded her, knowing that she and her mother-in-law, Suzie, were frenemies.

“Yes, his mother is a pill. But I’m sure she thinks the same of me. Though ever since everything happened last Christmas… When they came to visit us after New Year’s, she came into the house, walked by her son, her grandsons, and right up to me and hugged me tight.”

“What was that about?”

“She said that if Brad, or the boys, heaven forbid, had been taken from her, she knew in her heart that they were aware she loved them dearly. She would have worried about me.”

“That’s kind of nice.”

“Yes, it is. And though I drive her bananas, and she makes me want to drink, a lot , the reason we rub each other the wrong way is that we’re both perfectionists.”

“I can see that.”

“Yes.”

“What now?”

“Well, now we’re trying to be more patient with each other, and I even had her tape an episode with me where we talked about mother-and-daughter-in-law issues.”

“And?”

“And it went viral. People like to see us talking, arguing, creating beautiful curated spaces, and dissing others.”

“I bet.”

“They like to see us shop together, decorate together, and snip and snap at each other. I think it’s so true to life, you know?”

“I’m happy for you.”

“I am too.”

“And you love Brad’s father and his sister and his brother.”

“I do. His father is chef’s-kiss perfection. The father we all want and need. And I can see in him the man Brad will be. I understand that Suzie and I married the same kind of man because we’re both type A personalities.”

“No. Really?”

“I’m coming to your wedding in the fall, George, and I do have a speech to give, so mind your manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But I get why Suzie needs me. Geneva does not share any of her mother’s interests. Not one. She doesn’t even like jewelry, for heaven’s sake. What is that even about? Who doesn’t like jewelry, George?”

“She’s a child of nature, not material possessions.”

Her groan was loud.

“She’s at one with the universe, Kurt said.”

“I hate both her and her wife.”

“You do not.”

“Fine, but the two of them, living off the land with the compost toilet and that horrible trailer? All sustainable and gross. Good God. That’s as close to hell as I ever want to get.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

“And they’re both vegans, and they do all that yoga, and neither has ever heard of deodorant or shaving, but worst of all, like the pinnacle of horror, is that neither drinks coffee.”

“That’s not really a bad?—”

“They don’t even drink black tea. Only that herbal shit.”

“You’re being very judgmental right now. Kurt says their systems are free of impurities, toxins…they eat clean, they’re both in great shape, and they are completely self-sustaining with their tea business. I understand there’s one for everything.”

“Did you hear me? No caffeine? Like ever? Never ever?”

“Kurt says the soaps they make are amazing.”

“Well, Kurt is a big fat liar, in case you didn’t know.”

“Is he?” I goaded her.

“And then there’s Brad’s brother, Dave,” she went on, ignoring me, “and his wife the high-powered tax attorney with her immaculate, modern style. All white walls and glass. I’ve never been in a house so devoid of warmth.”

“You’re just jealous,” I baited her, the chuckling giving me away. “Kurt said she enlightened him on the difference between eggshell and ecru, ivory and alabaster, and?—”

“Stop.”

“Whatever, who cares. She loves Dave and is supporting him while he writes his magnum opus that will be the next Game of Thrones .”

“If he ever finishes it.”

“Have faith, kitten.”

Her laugh was pure evil.

“Anyway, I’m here, so thank you. I will never forget you taking my mind off Kurt during this drive. I owe you.”

“George, my love, last Christmas you saved me and my family from actual death. I tease you, but you are forever golden.”

“Aww.”

“Even more importantly, you love my brother the way I always dreamed it would be. The way you look at him… I could not be happier.”

“Well, I don’t do it for you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And he’s very loveable.”

“He is, and he loves you back, which is pretty great as well.”

“That’s the part I like,” I said, driving toward the valet area. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Good. Now go in and protect him, and make sure you call me from the car on the way home. I want to hear this.”

“Will do.”

“Kiss, kiss,” she said and was gone.

Funny to think back to last Christmas, when I didn’t really know her at all. Now I was so comfortable with her, trusted her completely, and knew she loved me. Surprisingly, I loved her back. And, if I was being honest with myself, the person who first began the change in me was Hannah. Her being the squeaky wheel in my life, a person I couldn’t ignore, who demanded both my attention and affection, paved the way for Kurt’s sister, who was now my sister as well. I was in her debt for opening my eyes, and God help me, I might have to actually tell her that.

But not today. Maybe at the wedding. I’d play it by ear.

At the moment, however, the love of my life needed me, and that was crazy too. My first impression of Dr. Kurt Butler was that he was opinionated, uptight, closed off, and conceited. He had judged me as a man who used violence to solve his problems. Knowing now what I did about his father, he had probably lumped me in with him. All his icy reserve had been directed at me at the beginning of that fateful night. But then we talked a bit, and I got hurt later, and by the time they were taking me away in an ambulance, he couldn’t help himself. Taking me home was all he could do.

I told him often that he had tumbled into my trap, and he was always quick to reply that maybe I had it backward. Maybe he was the spider and I was the fly. I wasn’t buying it, but whatever made him happy. It turned out I was utterly devoted to making Dr. Kurt Butler happy.

After giving the valet a big tip to park my car close so it would be easy to get out, I strode toward the entrance to the restaurant—a beautiful redbrick building with gas lamps outside.

A party was coming in behind me, so I stopped and held open the door. They were gracious and thanked me, and I wondered, as I smiled back, how I should present myself when I met his mother. Normally, I was quiet at first. I liked to take in the lay of the land, and if I reached the table and Kurt was at ease, I would make myself melt into the background. If not… It would all depend on how he looked when I got there.

Inside, the hostess station had three stunning young women waiting for guests, all in short black dresses, and one older woman, clearly in charge, in a beautiful Valentino suit. I liked her glasses and told her so once it was my turn in front of the podium.

“Thank you,” she said, tipping her head as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I suspect you’re meeting someone.”

“I am. My fiancé and his family. Their reservation was under Marcum.”

“Yes, excellent. I have that right here,” she said, about to hand me off to one of the younger women. “And may I say, so nice not to have to offer a man a tie. I know it’s summer, but we don’t even have a patio.”

I grinned at her, pleased that I fit in wearing my navy Tom Ford suit, white dress shirt, crimson tie, and black wingtips. I had come straight from work, and thankfully, it had been a talk-to-new-people-about-to-need-protection day, and not a running-down-people-who-needed-to-be-fired day, or worse, showing up at ex-employees’ homes to collect work property. It was amazing how many people thought that taking home a laptop or a phone and then quitting, meant no one was coming to collect items that were the property of Sutter. I was always surprised. Still. Finn Murray, whom I was training, was always as shocked as I was.

A man leaned in then, around me, which was rude, and asked when his party would be seated. The hostess’s scowl was good—I was impressed. It was dark and a bit spooky, and he straightened up quickly so he was no longer in her space. I thought that was smart, considering how narrow her eyes got.

“As I told you when you agreed to be the next party seated, and you said it was no problem to wait at the bar, we had a reservation this evening for the entirety of the loft area on the second floor, so we don’t have the seating we normally do.”

“That’s right,” he said, glancing at me and then back at her. “I remember now.”

She stood there, staring at him, waiting.

He cleared his throat nervously. “You’ll call us when the table is ready, of course.”

“We will,” she said with a fake smile.

Once he was gone, she turned to me, her eyes warm once more.

“Maybe you guys should get those pagers that light up so he won’t worry, or take a phone number and text him.”

“There is no customer service in that—in not remembering a guest.”

“So you take notes?”

“Yes,” she said, pleased, I could tell, by my question. I’d been a host and then a waiter back in the day, in high school, before the Army. I knew how I’d done it, kept track of people.

“Does my note say good suit?”

“It says great suit, better smile.” She grinned at me. “Now go with Layla and stop flirting with me before I keep you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I followed the doe-eyed brunette into the depths of the sumptuously decorated restaurant, across the polished wooden floors, to a quieter area with highbacked leather chairs and a table set with crystal and taper candles. It was right where Kurt had said, in front of a bank of windows. I had been expecting less people but saw Kurt immediately, who stood to receive me. Next to him, seated, was an older woman whom Thomasin resembled slightly, and next to her, an older man and three other couples. Ten of us altogether. I really hoped I didn’t have to hit anybody.

“Hey,” Kurt greeted me, his voice soft and low, unsure, but the smile, the smile was all him, as happy to see me as usual. “You made it. People were starting to think I made you up.”

“No,” I said when I reached him, taking the hand he held out to me. “All they have to do is look at you to know you have someone who’s madly in love with you.”

Instantly, his shoulders relaxed, he exhaled deeply, and I drew him close until he bumped against me, wrapping him in my arms.

“You know I’m a rock,” he said.

“I do know that.” I smiled into his hair and kissed his temple.

“But sometimes, it’s good to lean.”

“It is,” I said, chuckling.

“Kurt,” one of the women said, “introduce us to your boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” he corrected as we stepped apart. “Note the ring.”

I smirked at them as I held up my left hand.

“Phil,” another of the women said, “that ring has more diamonds than mine.”

The older man stood up, and Kurt stepped sideways, hand on the small of my back as he presented me.

“George, this is Bennett Marcum. Mr. Marcum, this is my fiancé, George Hunt.”

“Pleasure, George,” he said kindly, smiling at me, holding my hand tight. “This is my wife, Kurt’s mother, Vanessa.”

When he let my hand go, I leaned a bit so I could take hers.

“Lovely to meet you, George,” she cooed, then looked at her son. “Aren’t you the lucky one.”

Kurt nodded as Marcum then introduced his son, Paul, who was engaged to Didi; his daughter Addison, engaged to Phillip; and Helene, who was dating Nelson. I said great to meet you, shook hands, and smiled. Once I was seated, Vanessa asked if I’d like some of the appetizers and named them off. Lamb skewers with mint jelly, steak and blue cheese bruschetta, bacon-wrapped dates, and pork belly with something, God knew what.

“I’m good, thank you,” I said as the waitress appeared.

I got a whole spiel about welcome to Delphine’s, and was this my first time dining with them, and what would I like to drink?

“An Old Fashioned, and if you have the Russell’s Reserve 10, that’d be great.”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” she murmured, and smiled at me before she left.

Vanessa leaned forward then. “I must confess, George, when Kurt said he was calling his intended and that his name was George, I was surprised. My boy only made Valentines for girls when he was young.”

I had no idea what the point was of her comment, but nothing was getting by me. “You mean when he was in kindergarten and then first grade?” I asked, at the same time reminding her how young he’d been the last time she’d seen him.

She stared at me.

“I thought little kids handed out cards to everyone. Isn’t that how it normally goes?”

Apparently, I had rendered her mute.

“Well, so you know, he does like girls, or women, but lucky for me, I’m his favorite. And anyway, people change, and it’s been a good, what, twenty-eight years?” I made sure to give her a wink. “Never know what can happen in that amount of time.”

“I…well. Yes,” she granted, looking a bit flustered. It wasn’t what I was after, but best not to question Kurt’s choice of dance partner.

“And what is it you do?” Paul asked me, his tone cool. “Kurt’s a psychiatrist. Are you a doctor as well?”

“No.” I chuckled, feeling myself bristle, but not about to let anyone see that. “I’m in private corporate security.”

And it wasn’t that I cared what he thought of my job, it was just the snide way he was asking that I didn’t care for.

“You’re a bodyguard?” He looked at Kurt. “Whatever do you find to talk about?”

“Why would they ever need to talk?” Addison simpered, giggling into her drink. “Look at him.”

Helene groaned. “Mother, Addie the lightweight is already drunk.”

“Girls,” Vanessa warned, treating them like children instead of adults in their early twenties. “Let’s try and be civil.”

“What do you do?” I asked Paul. “Wait, lemme guess, work for your father?” And before he could answer, I turned to Marcum. “You’re a real estate developer, I understand, sir?”

“Yes, that’s right.” He stood up. “In fact, we invited a couple of business friends of mine here to dinner as well.”

“Oh?” I turned to Vanessa. “So you were in town anyway, and thought to invite Kurt?”

“Well, yes. I haven’t seen my son in ages, but I know he lives here, so I thought, while we’re all here vacationing, that we could catch up.”

It wasn’t even a special dinner to see Kurt and introduce him to her family. He had been included because it was convenient.

As everyone stood to meet Marcum’s business associates, I turned to Kurt.

“What’d you guys talk about before I got here?” I teased him.

He was chuckling as the waitress set down my drink, told me to enjoy, and then turned her attention to the two men who had joined us.

Payton Ryerson and Jeffrey Wolf were from Ryerson & Wolf, a good-sized real estate development company. They did a lot of business downstate, and out of state, but not much in Chicago.

“Kurt,” Paul said suddenly, “we have some catching up to do, and some business to discuss, so since their wives are—oh, here they are,” he announced, his voice full of sugary sweetness. “What a wonderful surprise. Mrs. Ryerson, you’re a vision.”

“Oh, Paul.” She beamed. “Such a sweet-talker you are.”

“You look radiant as well,” Nelson put on thickly, reaching for Mrs. Wolf’s hand.

As Kurt and I were sitting and people were basically leaning across and over us, I waited until the women were about to sit, grabbed my drink, and stood up.

At six-two, I’m not small, so when I rose, the women both had to tip their heads back to look at me.

“Please take our seats so you can chat more easily.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” Mrs. Wolf said.

Kurt and I moved a couple of chairs over around the large round table.

Vanessa was more interested in talking to the wives of her husband’s business partners than getting reacquainted with her son, and Addison and Helene knew the couples’ daughters and wanted to hear everything about them.

“FaceTime Thomasin,” I told Kurt.

“What?” He sounded surprised again, for the second time in one day, but this time, he sounded better, and I saw the evil glint in his eye.

“Now. Please.”

Holding the phone in his lap, he called his sister.

“You cannot be done with dinner,” she told him.

“Shhh. You need to see everyone.”

He lifted his phone just enough so Thomasin could see her mother, her mother’s husband, her half-siblings, and the business that was happening instead of visiting.

“Let me get this straight,” Thomasin began, and I could tell she was seething as I crowded into the frame with Kurt so she could see us both. “You’re a fuckin’ afterthought?”

Kurt turned to me. “What is with the filthy language all of a sudden?”