“Brandon—”
“Am I interrupting something?” A man appears from out of nowhere. The resemblance is clear. This must be her brother.
We break apart, releasing each other as if we’d been caught like teenagers in her bedroom after curfew.
“Sorry.” I glance at Jenna. “I should go.”
“No, wait,” she says, reaching for me.
But I slip away, moving in the direction from which we came. Like a thief, I steal into the shadows, but not before I hear him say, “Jenna, let him go. Kenneth’s here.”
Part Two
Present
One
Jenna
A Few Years Later
Dad clinks a fork against his glass to get everyone to stop talking. “Can I have your attention, please?” A hush falls over the room as all eyes turn to stare at him. “I’d like to make an announcement, one that my wife, Julia, and I couldn’t be happier and more thrilled about. My daughter has agreed to become Mrs. Kenneth Balfour. Can we raise our glasses and toast the newly engaged couple?”
Kenneth’s arm tightens around me as we accept the toast of congratulations. My smile, the one that doesn’t quite reach my eyes, is pasted on and it seems like it’s been there for the last few days. I wonder if it stays there while I’m sleeping. Kenneth’s soft lips touch my cheek and I look up to him, exactly like a newly engaged woman should. This is what I want, what I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl. Isn’t it?
And then the masses hit. My parents’ friends surround us, hugging and kissing me, and shaking Kenneth’s hand.
“Let me see that block of ice on your hand,” one of them says. I hold out my hand with a smile.
“Shade your eyes, because it’s a doozy,” I say, laughing. And it is. Kenneth went way overboard with this one. It looks like a bubble gum ring. When he gave it to me, I asked him if it was real. Obviously, it was, as could be seen by the hurt look on his face. Me and my big mouth. But, jeez, how was I to know he was going to spring for a damn boulder?
The proposal itself was something out of a magazine. I should’ve known something was up when we flew in his family’s private jet to their beach house on a remote island in the Abacos. We landed on Marsh Harbor and then went by yacht to their private island, which was amazing. Kenneth had mentioned they had a place there, but I never imagined it was so grand. Six bedrooms, each with ensuite, plus several dens, an open kitchen, and beautiful terraces that led to a private white sandy beach made for an exquisite vacation. It was truly stunning. When Kenneth asked me to marry him, the thought of saying no never entered my mind. Our stay was idyllic, but it didn’t hit me that I’d consented to become Mrs. Balfour until we returned to Charleston.
“I can’t wait for you to show off your ring to your parents,” he said as we landed. Wasn’t that something the woman usually said?
“Yeah. Me, too.” I acted excited, but the truth was, I had to pretend.
Now, here we stand, in the midst of my parents’ friends, and I’m still pretending to be excited. Is this how every bride-to-be feels? Everyone asks me about our wedding plans. Where is the event going to be held? What’s my dress going to look like? Where will we honeymoon? Are we going to buy a house? The fuck! Who the hell thinks of all this shit at once?
Kenneth is acting more like the bride than I am. “May,” he says with confidence. It comes out as if we’ve talked about this when we haven’t. “Perhaps at the yacht club or maybe at Mother and Father’s. We have a few places in mind.” We do? We haven’t discussed any of this. Keep smiling, Jenna. Maybe he’ll sew your dress for you, too.
Someone says, “Ahh, a nice traditional wedding then, I see.”
“Yes! That’s exactly what we want,” he says.
Wait! I want to elope. What the fuck are you saying? I grind my teeth so hard they actually make a noise. Kenneth’s exuberance makes me wonder why he’s not clapping his hands. I need Cate. Where is Cate?
“So, Jenna, what kind of dress do you want?”
As I get ready to answer, Kenneth says, “She’ll wear Monique Lhuillier or Valentino. Definitely couturier.”
“I will?” I ask.
His responses up to now have been so matter-of-fact it’s hard to believe we haven’t talked about this.
“Mother will arrange everything.”
He says it so nonchalantly, as if I should know all of this. Doesn’t the mother of the bride have a role in this? And here I thought I would wear a simple dress that perhaps I could wear again. Where did Diva Kenneth come from? OMG! He’s probably going to make me say yes to the dress. What the hell am I going to do?
Suddenly, I’m being dragged away by a hand on my arm. Kenneth looks up and grins at my abductor. “Handle with care. I don’t want anything happening to the future Mrs. Balfour,” he says.
“Don’t worry. She’s my sister. I used to beat her up. She can handle a lot,” my brother, Ben, says. Thank God he’s rescuing me. I hope he brought a bottle of Herradura Reposado. I know Añejo would be asking for too much, but I sure as hell can’t drink that shit tequila at the bar. And I’m going to need several shots. Pronto.
He pulls me way off to the side and asks, “What’s with that look on your face?”
“What look? And where’s my shot or five?”
“Exactly. You look like a vision of yourself from Madame Tussauds. Scary as shit. Your face is super creepy right now, Jenna.”
“Stop. It is not. Where are my fucking shots?” I whisper-yell at him.
“Calm down.” He holds up the bottle of my favorite poison, and when he looks around for a glass, I rip the Herradura out of his hand.
“What the hell!”
I open the top and take a slug of the stuff. The liquid gold burns its way to my gut, but it’s a sweet burn and I say, “Ahhh.”
“Are you okay? I mean, really okay. You’re acting strange.”
“I’m great. Just dandy.” I put my super-duper plastic smile back in place. “See?”
“Jesus. Are you sure you want to get married?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure? I got this terrific ring. Look.” I shove my hand under his face. “And my fiancé is planning the whole thing. Did you know we may have our reception at the yacht club or his parents’ place, and that my gown will be couturier? What the fuck more could I want?”
“Do you love him?” he asks.
“Love him? Well, yes, I do.” I take another gulp of Herradura. Holding the bottle out toward my brother, I say, “He’s a wonderful man, a fantastic provider. Kenneth is smart and cute, too. Look at him, Ben. See, he has on that silly little bowtie. And it’s not even tied properly.” I giggle and take another swallow. “Thank God you brought this. I was in need. And look at Mom. She’s so happy now that I’m not going to be a spinster.” I guzzle more of the golden nectar.
“Hey, sis, take it easy on that stuff. You’re going to get hammered if you don’t.”
“Yeah? That’s okay. So listen to this.” I tug on his sleeve and pull him closer so I don’t have to talk so loud. “I was strolling by a couple of her friends, and she apparently leaked the news to them, and they said—Oh, boy, Julia is thrilled. She was so worried that Jenna would never get married. Now she can relax and wait for the grandbabies to arrive. Can you imagine? Why would she say that? And am I a broodmare to her? I don’t even know if I want kids. I bet she never says that about you and Sam.”
“Does Kenneth know?”
“Know what? That Mom thought I was going to be an old maid?”
“No.” He runs his hands through his hair, and I pull them out. “That you might not want kids.” He tries to grab the Herradura away from me, but I won’t let him and take another slug instead.
“Why would Kenneth want to know?”
He gives me a frustrated look, one that he’s famous for. “Jenna, are you serious? The dude comes from old Charleston money. Of course, he’s going to want to carry on the Balfour name. You need to tell
him if you don’t want kids.”
“It’s not that I don’t want kids. I just might not want his.” As I see his eyes nearly bulge out of his head, I realize what I said, so I quickly say, “I meant not right away.”
“What the fuck aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing! I swear.”
“Answer me this without thinking.”
Oh, boy. I take another long swallow of my Herradura because he’s going to ask me something I’m not sure I’ll be able to answer. And right as I finish, he snatches the prized bottle away from me.
“Benny,” I whine. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because you’re half-soused. That’s why. Now, answer me this. Are you in love with Kenneth?”
“There you are. I thought I heard my name.”
I look up to see the object of our discussion. “Hi, Kenny. Benny…” That rhymes, and it’s just too funny. “Kenny and Benny.” I laugh again. When no else laughs, I decide to finish my sentence. “Anyway, Benny was just telling me about how much fun he and Sam had on their honeymoon,” I say.
“Sounds like a competition. Come on, Jenna. There are some people who’ve been asking about you.”
I wobble on my shoes as he escorts me off. And am I in love with Kenneth? What is love, anyway? I saw my bestie Cate fall to pieces when she went through all she did with Drew. I can’t say I feel like that because I’m not in that position. And when Ben went through that rough spot with Sam, things got messy. But again, I’m not in a position to compare because it’s not the same. Kenneth is kind, caring, and considerate. What more should I want, right?
“Honey, remember your parents’ friends, the McCoys?” Kenneth asks. What is this? Has he met everyone here already?
“Yes, how are you?” They give me an odd look, as does Kenneth. The words had been hard for me to enunciate.
“We’re fine, dear, and congratulations to you two.” After some small talk, we move away.
“How much have you had to drink, Jenna?”
Waving my hand, I say, “Just a few sips of tequila. Why?”
“Because you’re slurring your words. Terribly.”
I don’t normally notice, but his words suddenly sound haughty. His Southern accent is thick with the tone of old money and a man used to getting what he wants.
“Me? Pssft.”
“Yes, you,” he says. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
He leads me to a small table, and I sit while he brings me a plate of food. Then he watches me as I eat. We make small talk about a few things, but my head spins and it’s somewhat difficult to make out what he’s saying. I look across the room and see my mom talking to that group of women I overheard.
“Kenny. Check it out. See those ladies my mom is talking to?”
Kenneth follows my gaze. “Yeah, what about them? One of them is Meadows Humphries. She’s on the board of directors for the Charleston Art Guild. My mom knows her.”
I flip my hand back and then smooth out my hair. “Well, I was walking by them earlier, and the redheaded one said my mom thought I was going to be an old maid.” I giggle. “Do you think all moms talk about their kids like that?”
“I suppose so,” he says.
“I’ll tell you this. I’m not going to, because this chick,” I turn my thumb toward my chest, “isn’t having any.”
Kenneth’s brow creases. “Any what?”
“Kids.”
“You don’t want kids?”
“No way.”
Kenneth’s mouth moves, but not a single sound comes out.
“You’re going to have to speak a little louder. I can’t hear you.” I giggle again. “Hey, let’s dance, Kenny.”
“There isn’t a place for dancing.”
Music plays in my head, and I want to move. I need to break up this stuffy party and bring some life to it.
“We’ll make one. Come on.”
“Jenna. We can’t do that.”
The condemnation in his tone only spurs me on.
“Yes. Watch.” I stand up and start my own little dance. Kenneth doesn’t like it too much, so he grabs me and walks me to the outside.
My parents live in a stately old neighborhood called The Crescent, which is located in West Ashley. Their house sits on the Intracoastal Waterway with a magnificent view of it and the marsh, and their terrace was designed to capture it all.
As soon as we get out there, I spin around and do a little shuffle step about the time I see my bestie, Cate, coming up the walk.
“Catie Bear! Come hug me!” I yell out to her.
She comes running up to me, saying, “Sorry we’re late. We just got in. Our flight was delayed. Hi, Kenneth.”
We all hug, and Drew comes up behind her and gives me a big hug. “Congratulations, Jenna. You deserve the best.”
“I know, and I got it.”
Kenneth beams in his crooked bowtie and sparkling blue eyes.
Cate grabs my hand and checks out my ring. “Holy rocks of all ages. What the hell, KB?”
“Only the best for my bride-to-be,” Kenneth says.
I twirl around and then do a curtsy. “I was just trying to get Kenny to dance with me.”
Cate shakes her head and says, “Jesus, Jenna, looks like someone’s been dipping in the party punch.”
“I only had a few sips of Herradura.”
Drew roars, “They must’ve been some huge sips.”
“Those are my thoughts,” Kenneth adds.
“Where’d you get the fancy tequila?” Catie Bear asks.
“Benny brought it.”
“Christ,” she says. “Figures. Does Sam know?”
“Sammy loves me. She’d want me to have it,” I say.
My three peeps look at each other, and they all seem to be talking in sign language. Then Cate says, “Come on, my friend. We need to water you down.”
“Oh, Catie, Kenny, and Drewey. I’m so glad everyone’s here.”
I try to envelope them in a group hug, but it doesn’t work. Next thing I know, Cate tells Drew to find Ben and that she needs a word with him as she and Kenny each take one of my arms and lead me inside. They force me to drink two, yes two, bottles of water.
“You guys are killing my buzz. I don’t like you anymore.”
“But you will in the morning,” Cate insists.
“Do you think I should have a baby?” I ask her. Her startled expression makes me anxious for her reply.
“Why would you ask me that?” She casts a glance at Kenneth, who appears very interested in his fingernails. His nails are well manicured, more so than mine. I look closely at my hands and remind myself to make an appointment to get my nails done.
“Because I don’t want kids.”
Cate leans back and puts her hands on her hips. “Well, that sucks because… okay, I was going to wait to tell you this because this is your night, but I’m pregnant again, which means you’ll be a godmother.”
“I am? You are? Are you sure about this? Do you really want another kid? I mean, more diapers, and throw up, and all that icky stuff all over again.”
She has the nerve to laugh at me. “Hell yes, I want more kids. Three, maybe even four. We both do. We love baby poop and all. And then they’ll grow up and have kids, and we’ll get to do it again with our grandkids.”
I squint at her, like I’m looking at my friend for the very first time. “You’re insane. You need a psychiatrist.” Our conversation is interrupted when Drew shows up with Benny.
“Benny, where is my bottle? They killed my buzz.”
“Thank God someone did. You’re a lush with that stuff,” Ben says.
I stick my tongue out and blow a raspberry at him. He looks at Kenny and says, “Are you sure you still want her?”
Kenneth fidgets and says, “Of course, I do.” But he acts weird, and his answer seems forced and automatic.
“Kenny hates me because I love Herradura.” I stick out my lower lip.
“Would someone take her
upstairs to bed? She’s a mess.” Ben looks around, but I’m not sure why.
“Maybe I’m taking your place,” I say. “You used to be messy, Benny.”
“Yeah, well, he’s gone for good.” Ben’s wife, Sam, walks up and wants to know what’s going on. They all explain that I’m inebriated.
“I am not. I’m just pleasantly pixilated. And I’m having fun ’cuz it’s my party and I can. Right?”
Sam snort-laughs, then her arm winds around me. “Of course, you can have fun. What did you drink?”
“My friend of all ages, Herradura.”
Her face morphs from fun and laughing into one concerned. “Where did you get it?” she asks, playfully stern.
“Benny brought it to me.”
“Benjamin,” she shakes her head like a teacher, “I thought we discussed this.”
My brother, who could face a boardroom full of the fiercest investors, looks properly chastised. “I know, but—”
“The only butt I’m concerned about is the one in your pants. Now, where’s the bottle?” she asks, holding out her hand.
“It’s taken care of.” She put him in his place. Dayam.
“Good.” Sam smiles sweetly at him, and he pulls her into his embrace. Oh, no, here we go. PDA. They are not shy about it at all. They kiss like they haven’t seen each other in days. Then he pinches her ass. I cough and clear my throat.
“Do I need to throw a bucket of water on you two?” I ask, nudging my brother.
“No,” he says, and then he says to Sam, “But don’t speak to me like that again, or else.”
“Hmm.” That’s all she says. It makes me curious, but not enough to ask because, ew, he’s my brother.
Blinking several times, I try to focus as the room sways with my inner beat. Next thing I know, Cate is pulling me up the stairs. When we get to my childhood bedroom, she says, “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not drunk.” As the floor tilts, I change my tune. “Well, okay, I’m a little.”
“Why’d you get toasted?”
The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset Page 84
