Chapter 26

Chapter

Twenty-Six

K andie

"Mom wants to see us."

I look up to Ulysses' grim face and a knot tightens in my stomach. Nodding jerkily, I get up from the recipe I was going over that Mama-Pete gave me years ago when she saw my fascination with baking. I bookmark the recipe for hummingbird cake before closing the book.

I don't say anything, just take his big hand in mine and let him lead me to his new F-250. The insurance totaled the last one, so he just bought a new one with all his new Shelby money. This one is even better than the one he had before. The seats are a tad bit softer leather. The display is top tier. I don't remark on it, not wanting to remind him of how I burned up his last truck today of all days.

When we pull up to the Shelby-Love Hospice Center, he turns to me, his jaw working. "Appreciate you coming with me. I asked her about the letters. She wanted to tell us why she did it together. You deserve the truth, but if you don't want to hear what she has to say. I'll understand."

I know it's taking everything in him to ask me to do this.

"Your mom loves you, U. It doesn't matter why she did it. She wanted to protect you." Reaching over, I cup his jaw, pressing my lips against his. The soft press of reassurance spurs him out of the truck. Jogging around to my side, he opens the door, helping me descend without having to hop down from the runner. Interlacing our fingers, he takes me in to see his mom.

"Hey, darlings," Marlene says, her voice surprisingly strong when we enter.

"Hey, Marlene," I say, my voice barely a whisper. She's lost so much weight it takes me a full minute to take in how small the once vibrant woman is now, so very small and frail in the bed.

"Hey, Mom." Letting go of my hand, he goes over to his mom, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

I follow suit, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"I know I have a lot of explaining to do." She looks from one of us to the other. Her eyes begging for understanding.

I press my lips together, wanting to know so badly but not wanting to upset her.

"I left a letter to give y'all, but when my beautiful boy came to me and asked, I knew I had the chance to be brave for once, just like his daddy." Grasping my hand, she gives it a squeeze in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Okay." I smile at her, trying and failing not to cry. I can't believe Ulysses has been coming to see his mom like this every day.

"First of all, I'm sorry what I did cost y'all all this time being together. And it did —" She looks me squarely in the eye. "Not because I didn't think you were good enough or anything like that, so don't even think that. I knew y'all were perfect for each other. But I had to keep him away from this place and his daddy's family. The mess of that family runs deep, so deep. We were so entangled in it that Hezekiah could never see his way free of it. When he got free of one thing, then another would crop up. Those kids—" she drifts off for a moment, anguish eating away at her expression. "After they died so bravely, after he made me promise — promise not to ever let you be lured into any of the your uncle's dealings. I encouraged you to go to the service. I was okay with never seeing you again if it meant you were free of that evil legacy. Then you came and for two weeks I saw you happier than I have ever seen you in my life." Letting my hand go, she reaches for her son, who covers both of hers in his strong hands. I can see he wants to protect her from her own words.

"I knew it was different between y'all. Knew it was useless to stop it. I knew you would come back if there was any hope." Then she turns, shining sad eyes on me. "I knew you would never leave, especially after Nikki showed up." A grimace covers her thin face. Exhaustion follows.

"Hezekiah and I knew his days were numbered the moment he married me over the girl they hand-picked for him. Me turning up pregnant was the only thing that spared my life because I had a Shelby heir in me. He was a constant thorn in Mathias Sr.'s side. I heard Mathias say that he'd have two sons once Hezekiah was out of the picture. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't." Relaxing back, she eyes her son with so much pride shining in her eyes. "Your daddy would be so proud of the man you have become, Ulysses. Never, ever doubt that." He bows over her hand.

"Kandie, I'm sorry I kept him from you, but I hope one day you can forgive me. I — just didn't see any other way." Her words break in a sob. I see the rest in her eyes. Let her rest. Let her have this moment with her son. Let it end here. I tell myself as sorrow beats its own heartbeat in my chest.

My face crumbles as I nod. "There is nothing to forgive," I whisper, looking down at my tightly clasped hands. I've long ago taken responsibility for myself.

"I'm glad he has you." I look up at her shining eyes. "Someone who loves him in a way the Shelbys can't ruin. I can meet his daddy with a smile on my face."

"Yes, ma'am." I can feel Ulysses' eyes on me. I know he's thinking I'm humoring her. I wish I was.

Marlene Cox Shelby, Sheriff Emeritus of Shelby-Love, was delivered into the merciful arms of Jesus with her son, Sheriff Ulysses Shelby, and Kandie Love, owner of The Kandie Shoppe Bakery by her side.

Tossing the paper aside. I get out of Pa-Pete's truck going over to the graveside. Trudging up the hill, my stomach feels sick as hell. I'd been doing good, so good. That night after Marlene's revelation, I stayed with Ulysses as he waited for the Weatherly Funeral Home to arrive and take Marlene. She passed away in her sleep as we sat beside her. When he realized she wasn't just sleeping, I stood to hold him. U dropped his head into my belly and wept. We just stood like that with me stroking his blond locks as his shoulders shook. I don't know how much time passed before he stood with eyes bloodshot to call in the staff.

I didn't say any of the dumb shit like she's no longer suffering or she's in a better place. I know better than anyone how hollow and useless those words are in the throes of grief. Sure, she's not suffering, but he wants his mom back, no different than me.

People part, letting me by so that I can come stand beside him and the flag-draped coffin. Ulysses is dressed in his formal attire, epaulets gleaming, pristine white gloves on his hands. Mathias is on the other side. My family surrounds him, along with the Takeda brothers. Further back his cousins, Jackson and Jericho stand in silent support of their cousin, the only other Shelby's present.

Interlacing my fingers with his, I ignore the queasiness of my stomach. I look on unfocused on anything other than the strong firm clasp of Ulysses' strong hand holding mine.

Some people would call what I've been doing a going on a bender. I call it self-care. Between the Remy and the Cooper and Thief I've been ensconced in a comfy cloud of oblivion. Marlene had all her arrangements made well in advance. Ulysses didn't have to do anything other than sign papers.

"To the last, she was always looking out for me," he told me the other day with anguish ripping through every word as we went through, confirming all the arrangements she made in advance.

I could do nothing but nod. The feelings I had, both good and bad, emotions tangle up inside of me. I knew I could freely express them without causing him more pain.

Yes, she looked out for him, but in the process, she cost us the future we could have had. I don't know how to tell him that when there is still more he doesn't know.

Pastor Burrell goes into a soul-stirring sermon about Marlene's life of service marrying it beautifully to the various people who suffered and carried on ending by taking it to the cross and opening the service to any who wanted to commit their life to the Lord.

There are no takers, mostly because everyone present was already a member of the Second Baptist Church or the First Baptist Church on the Shelby side of the county.

Officers step to either side of the casket and take the flag and fold it. Deputy Davies steps forward, his face in a somber cast, handing the folded flag to Ulysses. I glance up, noticing how his eyes harden when he looks at me. I return his look with a steady one of my own. Gone is that little girl he chased down like an errant puppy he needed to pull up by their scuff. I'm a grown, responsible woman, a businesswoman. He can judge me all he wants. They all can. I'm still here.

After he takes the flag, he tucks it under his arm and takes my hand again after having to release it to formally receive the honor for his mom's life. Together, we watch as the officers line up and give a twenty-one gun salute.

The day is bright and sunny. There are flowers budding around the graves. The pleasantness of the day stands in deep contrast of the event taking place. I almost wish that the sky would open, blanketing us with a torrent of rain to match the despair that not only Ulysses is feeling, but the whole town. But maybe this is the best way to honor a woman like Marlene — with a sunny send-off. She raised a good man, and she showed kindness to so many lost kids like me. Instead of throwing us in juvenile, she put us with mentors to set us on a different path. I see a lot of those kids, who are now grown now, filing out behind us as we head back to our cars.

"Hey, the repast will be at the Shelby Country Club," he says when we come to a stop at the truck. I nod, not wanting him to really see me. I hurried to put make-up on trying to cover any blotchiness and even iced my face to get rid of the puffiness that comes from drinking too much.

"I'll follow you over." I don't mention that I'll probably be late because I need to retch. Exhaling, I have my hand on the door lever when he grips my shoulders, turning me to him. I dip my head like a guilty child.

"Hey." The softness of his voice slays me. His next words break me. "You okay, wildcat?"

I nod, lying. "It's just hard seeing you upset." Shame has my words sounding strange, almost garbled. I'm barely holding it together. Acid is hot in my chest, waiting to come forth.

"Kandie?" He wants me to meet his gaze. I can't. I can't. I can't. I'm letting him down.

"Look at me." He tilts my head up. His eyes search my face. I see the moment the disappointment sets in. He closes his eyes as if he's in pain. Like I'm causing him pain. The exhale is so deep it's like a shudder of revulsion.

"I'm sorry," I eke out a whisper.

His eyes are dead when he nods. Then — "Can I ask you a question?"

I nod, covering my trembling lips. People are passing by rubber necking us as they pass us on their way to the repast. I'm sure it's not hard for them to figure out. I took two showers but not even that, nor my vanilla-rose is going to hide the fact I've been drinking all night, didn't sleep, and am still tipsy at my boyfriend's mom funeral.

"What started all this drinking with you? I know you went to therapy. You were drinking that first night we hooked up, but none the whole two weeks I was home. What happened after I left?"

In that moment, I know he wants me to blame him like he said his mom did his dad for not wanting to marry her at first. Hezekiah just wanted to protect her from the Shelbys. He loved Marlene. She just didn't realize it until too late.

"That's water under the bridge, U. Leave the past in the past." I shrug. "Does it even matter? I came to your mom's funeral fucked up. You hate me now."

Turning, I get the door open before his heavy hand slams it back closed.

"No, the fuck you don't. You don't get to do that–to put it on me. I don't hate you. I'm trying to understand, wildcat," he seethes behind me, sounding torn, angry, and betrayed. Then makes me face him again. "Tell me what happened to you. Why didn't you have anyone else after me? Why were you waiting on me when you thought I didn't give a fuck about you? Did someone hurt you?" He sounds so broken.

Every word tears me apart. Shreds me into a thousand pieces. My head drops on the arm blocking me and part of me knows I could lie, but I've never been a coward. Part of me knows telling him would free us from this thing between us for good. He'd finally know.

"A couple months after you were gone, after I'd given your mom the letters she never sent. I was desperate to talk to you and I knew, I knew she knew how to reach you." I shake my head, unable to meet his stare.

"Why were you so desperate, Kandie?" Craning up my head, I look into the anguish of his beautiful blue eyes. I swallow. He stills.

"Why were you so desperate to talk to me?" He asks, like he's almost afraid to hear the answer.

I can't make myself say it.

"You were pregnant?" He sounds like the words have been punched out of him.

I nod, reaching up to touch his hard, flexing jaw. I drop my hand before I touch him.

"Did you want our baby?" he asks, his eyes hardening, watching my face.

"I was scared, U. I was a messed-up kid, living in a dollhouse behind my granny's house," I hedge, remembering the relief I felt when I finally had the procedure done.

"Okay," he says, but I know he doesn't.

"Later, I had complications. I got really depressed — started taking a little nip to get through the day." I shrug like it wasn't the scariest time of my life.

"So when you were desperate, you went to my mom. She knew about this. Helped you." The air between us is palpable with unspent rage.

"Yeah."

"Fuck," he all but roars in rage, grabbing his head.

"She did it to protect you," I try, but he whirls on me.

"Who the fuck was protecting you? She took that from me. Took our kid from me and for what? To keep me from being a Shelby? That's want I am. Hezekiah Shelby's son. A hero who gave his life for some kids being abused. I'm his son. She should have had more faith in me. So should you." He turns red-rimmed eyes on me, his jaw working like he's grinding glass.

I want to step back from the wrath pouring off him, but I have nowhere to go with Pa's truck behind me and his mountainous form towering over me.

"I tried?—"

"Fuck. You. I've been here two years and you ain't said shit." He steps back, fury and hatred bleeding off him in waves.

"U, I'm sorry?—"

"Stay the fuck out of my life. I've dead motherfuckers for less, lady." With that, he pivots, stalking away from me toward his F-250.

I stand there watching him leave after he slams into his truck. Relief coalesces with a macabre mixture of grief.

"He deserves to know," I whisper to the ghosts in the cemetery as I stand alone.

The rain actually comes after I've stood alone for a good long while. I finally let the tears I've been fighting flow, not worried anyone would see me crying over the same boy like I did all those years ago.

My soaked clothes have dried some by the time I trudge up the stairs to my loft. I wish I could say the heaviness I feel is from standing out in the cemetery, staring into nothing for hours.

The guilt and shame from keeping this secret from Ulysses has been a burden on my soul. He wanted to know what started my tipsy life challenge and all this time, I thought it was the abortion I had. It was the keeping it a secret from the man I love. A man I love and could never tell because I never felt I was worthy to do so while this secret loomed between us. I was drowning in my own despair for years, thinking that was what I deserved for not telling him. No matter what happens now, I am free of that secret. We may be over, but my story doesn't end here. He may hate me, probably will for the rest of his life, but I don't hate myself anymore.

The heaviest of sighs releases from deep within my solar plexus as I unlock my door. As soon I step across the threshold, a rush of nausea hits me. Rushing into the bathroom, I kneel over the toilet, heaving the contents of stale alcohol into the bowl. A shiver wracks my body as I spew and spew what seems like my very soul out.

"Such a naughty girl." My head whips around to see Nathaniel standing in the doorway of my bathroom. He's dressed in all black with a rope and zip ties hanging from his hand.

"Wha—" But I already know. I don't have to ask the stupid question of why he's here when it's obvious. He's the one who's been stalking me, breaking into my house, destroying my things, and freaking off on my bed.

Weak and stumbling, I back up like I'm scared, but reach for a pair of sheers I use to snip my ends.

"Saw you and the sheriff break up at the funeral. Now that he's out the way, you're fair game. I let it slip. I saw you headed for the state store at the repast. No one is going to question you not showing up for a couple days. Then when folks come looking, you'll be—" He shrugs his shoulders in a helpless manner.

He rushes me and I twist away tagging him good with the scissors.

"Bitch," he roars, backhanding me so hard I careen almost twisting my ankle. My knee isn't spared when it hits the concrete scarping it badly.

He crowds down on me from behind snatching my head back in a painfully awkward angle.

He covers my mouth and nose. "Go to sleep." I fail and fight. Heaving back I smack my back hard into his face satisfied when I hear a crunch and a curse. Still his hand tightens, and I see stars before darkness descends.