Chapter 18

Dec

I heard the front door click and sat up with a jolt. I must have drifted back to sleep while Kenna dressed. I'd had plans for her this morning before we got up to face the day, but apparently she'd had other things to do. I hoped she didn't regret anything. I certainly didn't. Last night had been incredible, so amazing it had me questioning my long-term plans.

A feminine squeal—and not one of pleasure—from outside had me sliding out of bed and into a pair of jeans lying on the floor. I didn't bother with a shirt but did manage to zip up the jeans before I swung open the front door. Kenna stood on the other side of the bushes between our houses, rubbing her hands on her jean shorts and talking to a woman in her driveway.

"Mom," Kenna hissed.

Oh, shit.

"What, honey? I'm all for it, though you might want to freshen up a bit before the walk of shame. It's a little obvious."

Kenna marched over to the small woman and put her arm around her, not in a hug, but to tug her into the house. Her mom resisted, then saw me on the porch, hesitating and unsure if I should just slip back inside. Her face lit up.

"Oh, there he is!" She shot a wink at Kenna, halting their discordant walk to the house. "Nicely done, honey." Then she looked back up at me, beaming. "Thank you for ravishing my daughter. She needs it."

"Mother," Kenna hissed again, looking like her face had seen a solid afternoon of sun and she'd forgotten sunblock. "What are you even doing here?"

The woman put her hands on her hips, a stack of bracelets jangling in the early morning breeze. "I'm here to stay with you, of course."

Kenna blanched. I narrowed my eyes. How convenient for Kenna's mother to visit now. Now that her only sister was dead and Kenna had dealt with the will.

"You have impeccable timing," I said, not exactly friendly.

But Kenna's mom didn't catch on. "I know! If I hadn't shown up unannounced, I'd never have known my little Ken-doll was finally living a little. I mean, you're almost forty, honey. Gotta get the nookie before you croak."

Kenna shook her head, grumbling under her breath. I came down the stairs of the porch and took the same path Kenna had just a few minutes ago. In front of Kenna's mom, I held out my hand.

"Dec."

She slid her hand into mine and didn't let go. "Mona. So very pleased to meet you, handsome."

"It's Dec, Mom," Kenna corrected.

Mona slid her arm through mine, clinging tightly to my side, even though I hadn't offered her my arm. She smiled up at me, a glint in her eyes. "Can you get my bag, Kenna?"

I could see where Kenna got her pretty eyes, the height, and the body shape, but everything else was different. Her mother had dark brown hair without a hint of red. Her skin was lightly tanned and devoid of freckles. Kenna's coloring must have come from her father, a man she'd never mentioned.

I looked over my shoulder at Kenna to see her glaring at the back of her mother's head, but she grabbed the suitcase handle and wheeled it behind us as I escorted Mona into Maeve's house. The second we cleared the threshold, I disentangled from her and stepped back. I couldn't be arm in arm with the enemy when entering my late friend's house. Not that Mona was my enemy, but she surely wasn't a friend. Anyone who would ignore their sister's repeated attempts to reconcile while facing down death was not someone I wished to be close with.

Mona gasped as the air-conditioning hit her, then had her head on a swivel taking it all in. "Flamingo chairs? Really?"

"Mother!" Kenna snapped, shutting the door and folding her arms across her chest. "You are welcome to stay with me, but criticizing anything is off-limits."

Mona's eyes rounded into an innocence that didn't work on Kenna or myself. "I wasn't criticizing, honey. It's just an interesting choice."

I moved closer to Kenna's side, feeling highly underdressed in the arctic tunnel of Maeve's house. "How long are you planning to stay?"

Mona shrugged her thin shoulders. "I'm not sure, but I can't be a whole country away from my only daughter."

Kenna sighed. "How about we talk about this later? Can I get you something to drink?"

Mona smiled, as if she knew she'd get her way. "I'd love some water. Those airplanes just suck you dry." She patted my bare chest as she passed by on her way to the kitchen, following Kenna. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and begged Maeve for patience.

"Oh my goddess!"

I followed, wanting to help Kenna, but wishing I was anywhere but here. Mona gaped at the kitchen, her hands on her cheeks.

"I know, Mom. I'll update it eventually, but everything has been maintained meticulously." Kenna poured water into a glass from the pitcher in the fridge.

Her mom ignored her outstretched hand. Her gaze stayed fixated on the green Formica countertops. "It's exactly like our house growing up," Mona said with a small voice. Then she gasped and ran out of the room, her wide, brightly colored pants swishing behind her. Her footsteps sounded through the living room and then up the stairs. A door slammed and all went silent.

I stared at Kenna who stared back at me.

"Was she crying?" I asked quietly. I'd only known her a few minutes, but the woman seemed certifiably insane.

Kenna clanked the water glass on the countertop and sagged against it. "I think so. I don't know. One never really knows with Mona. She's prone to emotional outbursts of a wide variety."

I put my hand on Kenna's back and rubbed in a circle until she lifted her head. Her eyes were troubled, the little lines between her eyebrows showing. I hadn't realized that she'd stopped frowning so much at some point during her stay here in Florida, but one visit from her mother and the frowns were back.

"I'm so sorry," Kenna started. "She caught me coming back home and…" She trailed off. "I didn't mean for anyone to know about last night."

"Hey." I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "I'm not mad, sunshine. I'm just…" I shook my head, wondering how to put words to how I was feeling. "Maeve was my friend."

Kenna searched my face. "And she had bad things to say about my mother."

"No. Actually, she didn't. She just told me about trying to reach out to her with no response. My friend was dying and her own sister wouldn't pick up the phone. I'm just defensive."

Kenna nodded, her soft cheeks rubbing against my hands. "I understand. Mona's not my favorite either, but to be fair, Aunt Maeve never said anything about being sick."

I sighed, thinking of my old friend. She was always looking out for others and probably thought keeping her diagnosis from Mona was the right thing to do for her little sister. Everything was happening too fast. Kenna and I slept together, sharing our bodies intimately, yet there was still so much we didn't know about each other. Things I wanted to know.

"Tell me about her?" I asked, releasing her face and gesturing to the dining room where the flamingo chairs waited for us.

We both sat, our knees touching. Kenna swiped her fingers under her eyes. "I must look a mess."

"You look beautiful, as always. Now tell me about your mom."

Kenna shot me a grateful smile before launching into her story. "Mom had me young, moving to California before I was born. I never knew who my father was, though I can assume my red hair and pale skin is from him. Mom said he was Irish, and other than giving me this bracelet that belonged to his family, she's never told me any other details. Just emphasizing that he was unimportant to her."

I reached over to hold her hand, giving her a squeeze.

"Mona is a hippie, a free spirit who goes where the mood takes her. I went to ten schools growing up, never able to keep a long-term friend. Sometimes she made rent, sometimes we lived in her van. As soon as I was an adult, I got an apartment and a steady job while I went to college. I wanted to be the exact opposite of Mona."

I nodded, understanding now why she clung to her professional life so hard before she'd come here. Understanding the office clothes and the uptight personality. The absolute horror that her carefully constructed life had exploded on her.

"Dec," she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. I squeezed her hand tighter. "This is going to be hell with her here."

I bridged the distance between us and kissed her, my lips making promises I intended to keep. When her shoulders left her earlobes and her breathing had evened out, I pulled back enough to study her face.

"We'll figure it out like we always do. Together."

Kenna's eyes filled with tears again. "You must hate me by now. I've disrupted your life horribly from day one."

I stroked my thumb across her bottom lip, wishing I could carry her out of here and right into my bed to show her exactly how much I didn't hate her. But the reality of her mother upstairs was enough to have me stay seated.

"It's a shock to me too, but I don't hate you being here. Not at all." I grinned, thinking about it. "And wouldn't that make Maeve smile, to know we're actually getting along."

Kenna's own smile grew.

I leaned in and kissed her again. "I actually have to get over to my dad's this morning like I promised him, but I'll be back a little later to help out. Try not to kill her while I'm gone?"

Kenna crossed her eyes. "I can't make promises."

I stood up and so did she. I stole one last kiss and then I headed out the door without her, coming to a halt at the shrubs. A car pulled into my driveway, a man climbing out of the back.

"I can't get this damn thing to add a tip."

I hung my head and wondered if I'd somehow pissed off the cosmos.

"Pops?"

My father raised his head and looked over at me from the rideshare, his face lighting into a smile. "Hey, son! Help an old man out, would you? I can't get this damn thing to work."

Resigned, I stepped over the shrub and to the driveway, gently taking the phone from Pops and giving the driver a healthy tip for putting up with my father. The car backed out of the driveway and sped off while Pops gave me a hug. He was decked out in red plaid shorts, white wing-tip shoes, and a Tommy Bahama shirt that would have made Maeve give an approving nod.

"Did I get the details wrong? I thought I was supposed to meet you at your place in an hour?"

Pops shifted his weight off his prosthetic leg and onto his good leg. "Figured I'd surprise you. Maybe catch a glimpse of your woman. Harley's had such good things to say."

I nearly bit my tongue. "Well, she's not exactly my woman, Pops. And now's not a good time."

Pops gave me an exaggerated pout. He opened his mouth, but shut it immediately when Kenna's door clicked open. He spun around so fast, he nearly lost his balance. I shot a hand out and steadied him. Kenna leaned against the porch railing, watching us curiously.

I groaned under my breath. This morning had definitely not gone according to plan. I made the introductions anyway. "Pops, this is Kenna Ryan. Kenna, this is my father, Daniel."

Pops ambled down to the sidewalk and back up Kenna's driveway, his hand outstretched. "I'm delighted to meet you, young lady."

Kenna took in his prosthetic leg and shook his hand politely. She squeaked when he pulled her into a hug, bussing a kiss across her cheek. When she pulled back, she was smiling as widely as my father.

"Same! I can see where Dec gets his handsome features."

"Oh, look at you, flattering an old man." Dad barely spared a glance in my direction, his hands still on Kenna's arms like she might disappear if he let go. "I approve, son. And if you don't want her, I'll take her."

Kenna laughed, and the fact that Pops was able to make her lose the despondent look she'd harbored with her mother here, I couldn't complain. From day one, I'd reluctantly placed myself as Kenna's protector and that feeling had only intensified with recent events.

"Want to come in for some coffee?" Kenna offered, tucking my father's hand in the crook of her elbow and escorting him to her house.

"I'm going to grab a shirt real quick," I said, to which neither of them responded. I shook my head and ran inside, grabbing the first shirt I found and jamming a hat on my head. I couldn't leave those two alone too long or every single detail of my childhood would be paraded across the table for Kenna's amusement. How had the morning gone so off track?

"I'm going to fucking kill Harley," I grumbled, heading back to Kenna's for the second time that morning.

By the time I made it back over, Kenna and my father were seated at the table with steaming coffee mugs in front of them and Mona had just been introduced. She wore a dazzling smile she aimed at my father, as if she hadn't fled upstairs on a sob just thirty minutes before. Pops released Kenna's wrist only to take Mona's hand in his. Kenna's gaze swung to me in alarm.

"Well, hello, lovely," Pops practically purred.

Mona ate it up, smiling coyly before she slipped into a chair next to him, pulling it close enough the two were touching.

"Uh, can I get you coffee, Mona?" I asked. She didn't bother to look at me. "Okay…" I sat next to Kenna, both of us staring across the table at our parents, who were talking quietly amongst themselves, already fast friends.

"What the hell is going on?" I said under my breath to Kenna.

She shrugged, looking horrified. Then she picked up her coffee and took a sip, the charms on her bracelet tinkling gently.

Pops looked over at the sound, his gaze zeroed in on the jewelry. "Your bracelet is beautiful, Kenna. My late wife had a charm bracelet just like that."

"Oh, you poor dear," Mona cooed, resting her head on Pops's shoulder.

"She did?" I didn't know that about my own mother.

Pops spared me a glance. "She did. I got her a charm of a Ferris wheel. We rode that thing five times on our first date. Finally got up the nerve to kiss her on the fourth time. After that, she bought the bracelet and I kept buying her charms."

"That's sweet," Kenna murmured, fingering her charms.

"Kenna's is from her biological father," Mona piped in. "They were his mother's and he gave them to me. I had no use for it, but I did save it for Kenna."

Both my father and Kenna had glazed, faraway looks in their eyes, perhaps both lost in memories. I cleared my throat and focused on Mona. I wanted some answers from this woman, even though my irritation had lessened, knowing Mona had no idea Maeve was even sick.

"Why were you estranged from Maeve?"

Mona's gaze jumped away from mine quickly, a fake smile plastered on her face. "Oh goodness, that's a long story! Definitely not one for so early in the morning." She snuggled into my father's side, pulling him from his focus on the bracelet. "Kenna probably has to work all day. What ever will I do alone in this unfamiliar town?"

"Mom! I told you we could do something later."

Mona ignored her daughter and anger flared in my chest. I wasn't liking Kenna's mother one bit.

"I can show you around," Pops offered.

"With what car?" I drawled. Pops couldn't drive a standard car anymore, nor did he care for a retrofitted car when I'd offered to buy him one. Said his days of driving were over, and considering how he'd lost his leg, I couldn't exactly blame him.

Pops beamed at Mona, clearly pleased with himself. "Have you heard of a rideshare before?"

Mona cooed once again, already listing out all the places she wanted to see.

Kenna groaned and turned to stare at me. I stared back, just as horrified.

Our parents were flirting with each other.