by Kennedy Ryan
“So fast,” Mama says from the door. “Thought your daddy would lose his mind from all those boys coming to the house.”
“I was not that bad,” Kayla says, trying to fake outrage because she knows she was.
“You were,” Keith, Mama and I say in harmony.
The four of us laugh, and it reminds me of all the good times we had growing up. Feels like the Saturday mornings when the work was done and we’d stop for lunch in the kitchen. Laughter, macaroni and cheese, and chicken nuggets while I waited for the sun to go down, for Shabbat to end so Ezra and I could play.
Ezra.
I pull my phone out, not surprised to see two new messages from him. I haven’t responded, but he won’t stop if I don’t.
Me: Give me some space.
Ezra: Call me.
Me: Have you asked your mom about the charm?
Ezra: Not yet. Just a few things going on here, as I’m sure you remember.
Ezra: I miss you.
Damn heart. Skipping beats and shit.
Me: It’s only been a day.
Ezra: A day of you ignoring my messages.
Me: After this meeting, I’ll call you.
Ezra: If you don’t call, I’ll come to your mother’s house.
That is a scene I want to avoid at all costs. I heave a sigh and slip the phone back into my purse. The preternatural quiet from my typically boisterous family makes me realize they’re all staring at me.
“What?” I ask, giving them each a piece of my frown. “What are you looking at?”
“Who you texting?” Kayla aims her chin at my phone.
“Is it that Stern boy?” Mama asks with a smile. “Nose been wide open for you since he was old enough to know.”
“What does that even mean, Mama?” I ask. “Old enough to know what?”
“What girls are for,” Keith drawls.
“Focus, fam,” I say, trying to keep my voice light when my heart is Titanic in my chest, overburdened and sinking. “Less talk about my love life and more about this damn biography. Piers got me a number for the author, this Serena Washington, so I’ll try to find her today.”
“Yeah, like I was saying,” Keith interjects. “I knew a Serena Washington. She was Mrs. Washington’s niece. Lived across town, but bussed in one year. She was in my class.”
“That would be quite a coincidence,” Kayla says. “Though Washington isn’t exactly a unique name.”
“If there’s a connection,” I say, standing and grabbing my purse, “I’ll find it.”
I stride to the door, but Mama stops me there with a hand on my arm.
“Tru,” she says. “I love you, and I’m glad to have you home.”
I’m taken aback for a moment and look from her hand on my arm to the sincerity in her eyes.
“Yeah, I forgot how good it is to have you around,” Keith says, his cocky grin softened around the edges into a sweet smile.
We all look to Kayla, silent and watching us.
“What?” She smirks. “Tru’s been a pain in the ass all my life.”
The obvious humor behind her insult spurs us all to laugh again, and I realize how much I needed things to be right with them with so much going wrong.
“Love you guys.” I split a grateful smile between them all. “Zee, is there an office I can use to make some calls?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Empty office at the end of the hall.”
I walk down the corridor and close the office door behind me with a decisive click, leaning against it, almost afraid to call Ezra. Number one, what’s happening under his roof will affect the rest of my life, and I have no control over it. Having no control makes me feel like one of those blow-up wavy, flailing things you see advertising tires and used cars. Number two, the only thing I hate more than feeling out of control is feeling weak. And Ezra is my weakness.
There’s no way I’m moving forward if that baby is his. The worst thing for my state of mind embarking on one of the most important campaigns of my life would be battling menopause…while someone else is pregnant with my boyfriend’s baby. When I’m away from him, when I don’t see him or hear his voice, or feel him, I know that’s what’s best. But he makes me weak. Will he make me stupid, too? Will wanting him mean accepting something I know for me is wholly unacceptable?
I dial.
“Tru,” Ezra answers on the first ring, his voice even, but with a thin line of anxiety strung through it. “Hey.”
“Hey.” The line goes quiet, but there’s no telling what he’ll say so I fill the silence first. “Any word on the charm?”
His pause tells me that isn’t where he wanted to start this conversation.
“I left my mom a voicemail,” he says. “She’s not great about checking those, but I’ll try her again. I spoke to Noah, though, and asked him to have her call me back. She sneaks in a call with him every day, though she denies it.”
I allow myself to smile, thinking of Noah’s quick, eager grin and his eyes, exactly the shade of Ezra’s, always bright with questions, sharp with intelligence. “He’s a pretty great kid.”
“Yeah, he is.” Ezra clears his throat. “Aiko has no idea how far along she is.”
That levels my smile into a straight line. “Oh, yeah?”
“She and Chaz have been sleeping together for three weeks. It’s early, but it could very well be his.”
“And when did you last sleep with her?”
“Seven weeks ago.” I don’t have to tell him it’s more likely that it’s his. He knows that. “She’s trying to schedule an appointment with her doctor so we can know for sure.”
“You’ll go with her?”
“Of course.” I hear the frown in his voice, hear the tension of wanting to detach from this for me, but being too good of a man to send her alone. I resent him and fall deeper in love with him in the same breath.
“That’s good. You should go.”
“Kimba, I need to know what you’re thinking.”
“You know what I’m thinking. I’m thinking…” I swallow the hot tears crowding my throat, give myself a moment to steady my voice before continuing. “I think if this is your baby, you should be there for your family.”
“Aiko is Noah’s mother and my friend. I’ll be there for her whether this is my baby or not, but that’s not what I’m asking you. What are you thinking about us?”
“Ezra, there’s a lot of balls in the air right now.” I skirt around the question, not because I don’t know the answer, but because I’m afraid with a word if I let him, with one touch if I see him, he could change my mind. “I have a lead on the biographer. Keith thinks she might be related to Mrs. Washington.”
“Nosy Mrs. Washington? From the old neighborhood? No way.”
“Maybe. Could be just a coincidence. I’ll try to find her, talk to her and see.”
“That’s one ball in the air,” he says wryly. “Can we talk about our ball?”
“Let’s see what happens at the appointment before we have this conversation.”
“I don’t need to know if the baby is mine to know I want you,” he says in a rush, like he’s afraid I’ll hang up. “If I’m the father, I’ll be a good one. You know that.”
“You’re a fantastic father. I would expect nothing less.”
“But my mind hasn’t changed about Aiko. Our relationship is over and has been, and my heart hasn’t changed about you. I still want to be your last.”
“Ez.” I push the pain out in a long breath. “Don’t.”
“Tru, don’t let this ruin us.”
“I need to go.”
“If you could—”
I hang up. I have to.
I dial Piers immediately to stop myself from calling Ezra back.
“Hey, boss lady,” he says. “What can I do you for?”
“You got that address yet?” I ask, forcing the conversation, the turmoil with Ezra out of my mind. “For this Serena chick? I think I’ll pay her a surprise visit. Best she doesn’t
see me coming.”
“Sneak attack. I like it. I should have the address soon. I’m working on it. Oh! I thought of something that might prove useful in your quest.”
“What’s that?”
“So that publisher has a parent company,” Piers says. “And you’ll never guess who it is.”
“Who?”
“The Rafferty Group.”
“Come again?” I sit on the edge of the desk, not sure I heard him right.
“Yup. Rafferty.”
“As in James Rafferty, the man we helped elect governor two years ago?”
“The same. He obviously isn’t involved in the day-to-day right now, governing and all, but it’s his family’s business. He still has pull.”
“Then so do we.”
“He owes you,” Piers says. “Not only did we get him elected, but we covered up that—“
“Piers,” I cut him off. “I’m the girl who buries the bodies then forgets where they lay. Yeah?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. The fine governor knows that we know. That’s all that matters. He’ll want to do us any favor he can. I’m about to shut Serena Washington down. Great work, Piers. This I won’t forget.”
“You need Carla to set up a call with the governor?”
“Nope. I’ll call him myself.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Ezra
“That was her on the phone, wasn’t it?”
Aiko stands at the door to the guest bedroom where I’ve been sleeping. I sit on the edge of the bed, phone still in my hand. Kimba hung up long ago, but I still hear her voice, the resignation in it. If this is my baby, I’m going to lose her, and it’s like a shoal of piranha trapped in my belly, a feeding frenzy of anxiety and dread.
I don’t answer Aiko’s question, but stand and cross the room to leave. She doesn’t move, but blocks my exit, a tiny wall keeping me inside.
“Ko,” I say, hearing the impatience in my own voice. “I need to get by.”
“Ezra.” She runs her hands up my chest.
I slip past her, striding out into the hall and heading down the stairs. I settle in at my desk, open my laptop and try to distract myself with all the other things that require my attention. There’s an email to re-schedule the publisher’s meeting I missed because of Aiko’s bombshell announcement. I need to finish this book. Another email from the YLA finance director regarding next year’s budget and a grant we’re applying for. I need to look at her projections.
I need to settle the issue of this pregnancy.
I need Kimba.
My head drops into my hands. It’s futile trying to concentrate when my future hangs in the balance. I give up, let myself feel the weight of possibly losing her…again. Not as a boy who had no idea what a magnificent woman she would become, what we could be together, but as a man who’s known her body and glimpsed her soul, been consumed by the fire that burns inside.
You set me on fire inside, Ezra Stern.
“We need to talk,” Aiko says from the door.
“Talk to Chaz.” I lift my head, refocus my attention on the laptop and try again.
“Chaz is not the father of this baby.”
I do look at her then. “Oh, so you didn’t fuck him the last three weeks? Was I mistaken about that?”
Color floods her pale cheeks and she drops her gaze to the floor. “Are you going to condemn me for something we agreed on?”
“Absolutely not.” I shut my laptop and give her a level look. “But you can’t condemn me either. You want to have your cake and eat it, too.”
“I want you, Ezra,” she says, swallowing hard. “I didn’t want to end our relationship. I wanted an open one.”
“Again, cake. You know me, Ko. What would ever make you think I’d want that? I don’t care that you slept with Chaz.”
“Maybe that’s what hurts most because it’s killing me that you slept with Kimba as soon as my back was turned.”
“Your back wasn’t turned. You left,” I say, slicing a hand through the air. “With him. We broke up and agreed to tell Noah when you returned. Don’t try to re-write history because the truth is suddenly not as convenient.”
“History is re-writing itself, Ezra.” She walks deeper into the office, one hand on her stomach. “And there’s nothing convenient about an unplanned pregnancy at nearly forty on the cusp of the biggest opportunity of my career. I didn’t ask for this either. You were there that night. I didn’t fuck myself.”
“I know that.” I expel as much of the frustration as I can on a long breath. “If this is my baby, you know I’ll support you, but we won’t be together.” I look at her directly so she can see the finality on my face. “Not again. And not just because of Kimba. I hadn’t even seen Kimba when we broke up. You and I ending things was the right thing to do, for all of us. It still is.”
“But it hasn’t happened.” She crosses the room, presses her palms to the desk and leans forward. “It hasn’t happened because Noah doesn’t know. Our families, our friends don’t know. When Noah comes home, we tell him he’s going to have a little brother or sister and he’ll be ecstatic. Things go back to normal.”
“I don’t want normal. I want Kimba.”
Hurt shows in her sharply drawn breath, in the tears that fill her eyes right away.
“Ko,” I say, deliberately gentling my tone. “I told you before you left that I wanted one person I could love for the rest of my life. That person is Kimba, and I know it seems soon to you, but I’ve known her since we were babies. Even when we were separated, I never stopped knowing her.”
“If I ask you a question, will you answer honestly?”
“Always.”
“Did I ever even really have a chance?”
I give the question the consideration it deserves and force myself to be honest with her while still being as kind as I can. “Probably the best chance anyone has ever had. If you’d said yes when I asked to marry you, I would have found a way to keep my distance from Kimba when our paths crossed again.”
“You couldn’t have just been friends?”
I glance past her toward the kitchen, the mudroom, and flash back to that night when Kimba and I first made love. The wild sounds we made. The desperate craving that hung in the air. That absolute long-sought rightness of being inside her for the first time.
“No, I don’t think I could have been just her friend, even though I fooled myself that I could have.”
“When did you fall in love with her?”
I feel the cold metal around my finger again. Smell the freshly cut grass in my back yard. Hear the glass breaking on the rocks.
“I was six years old.” I chuckle humorlessly and touch my empty ring finger. “And again when I was seven. Eight. Nine and ten. I think I fell in love with her every day for the first thirteen years of my life, and as soon as I saw her again, my heart just remembered.”
She watches me, her face pinched, but some semblance of acceptance finally entering her eyes. My cell phone buzzes on the desk, breaking the poignant, painful mood.
“My appointment is tomorrow,” Aiko says, turning to leave. “First thing.”
I check the screen and answer right away. “Mom, hey.”
“Hey! You said you needed to speak with me urgently. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s quite urgent. If you ever checked your messages, you’d know when your son needs you. Noah told you to call?”
“When would I have talked to Noah?” she hedges.
“Okay. Never mind. I’ll deal with that later. I have a question for you.”
“All right.” Even though she says it, I hear the caution in her voice.
“Did you ever visit the Allens’ lake house?”
The question drops into a pool of silence so deep I almost lose track of it.
“Mom? Did you hear—”
“I heard you. I…why would you ask me that?” Caution becomes evasion.
“I don’t remember us
ever going with them up there. Kimba’s grandfather bought it not too long before we left.”
“Yes, so why would you—”
“Your charm was there, Mom,” I cut in before she can find a way to lie to me without telling me anything at all. “The star of David you lost that summer? Kimba and I went to the lake house and she found it in the laundry room.”
“What laundry room?” she asks and then gasps.
“Yeah,” I say, drawing out the word. “They just completed renovations that knocked out some walls and shuffled some things. The laundry room wouldn’t have been there…when you were.”
She releases a long, tired sigh on the other end of the line.
“Nothing’s ever as it seems, Ezra,” she says, her words weary and cryptic.
“I’m not interested in how things seem. I’m interested in how they were. How they are.”
“Your father and I were having problems,” she says, her voice shrinking. “I wanted to leave Atlanta—needed my family around me.”
“I remember.”
“And you know how badly I wanted to get you out of the South. Your father and I both wanted to expose you to broader experiences. Even I didn’t dream of going overseas, but it turned out to be good for you, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it was great for me, besides the fact that it meant I lost Kimba.”
“Yes, I’m sorry for that now. At the time, it seemed like the best thing to do.”
“What was the best thing to do? Move? Why? What happened?” I pause and then ask the question again, the one she denied before. “Were you unfaithful to Dad?”
I can practically hear her courage gathering and taking shape before she says the word.
“Yes.”
I nod and expel a sigh. Finally, the truth. “I don’t condemn you, Mom.”
“Good. Because you have no right to,” she says, defiance coming across clearly.
“Of course not. I just meant I would never judge. Can you tell me what happened?”
“We swore, the four of us, that we would never tell. We went our separate ways, and agreed we’d take it to the grave.”
“Well, two of you are already in the grave, and the truth is coming out if Kimba can’t stop this book from being published.”