“He’s good to me, Betty.” My response is lackluster, even to my ear. She’s not stupid. Betty knows something’s up, and I can see it in her shrewd eyes.
“I gotta go. I need to greet Kenneth when he arrives.” I kiss Betty’s cheek and scoot out of there. When I hit the front porch, it’s just in time to see Kenneth pull up the circular drive. I run out to his car to meet him.
“Jenna,” he says and kisses my cheek.
“Hey, I need to tell you something. I’ve changed my mind.” I fill him in.
“So, we’re getting married after all?” A satisfied expression settles on his face.
“We sure are. I can announce, or you can. Your choice.”
“Oh, I’ll do it.” He lifts my hand and kisses it. “I wish I had known you changed your mind. I would’ve brought the ring.” He tucks my hand into the crook of his arm, and we walk inside. My stomach plunges to my feet with every step we take.
Soon after, the older Balfours arrive, followed by Ben and Sam. Mimosas are served, and I down three at light speed. I’m calling on liquid courage to get through this dinner, and if I had my choice, I’d guzzle the entire pitcher.
Betty calls us into dinner, and I tug at the collar of my blouse. The damn thing isn’t even close to my neck, and it seems like it’s choking me. Dear God, don’t let me have a panic attack. My upper lip has dots of perspiration on it. Christ, I’m melting down.
Once everyone gets a taste of Betty’s food, all conversation ceases. Kenneth and I are seated next to each other, and I hope no one is aware of my lack of appetite. What a shame, too, to miss out on this meal. This is one of her specialties. Even the older Balfours are more than gracious in their compliments. And their snobby backgrounds have exposed them to all kinds of exquisite food. But they seem to be smitten with Betty’s meal, even threatening to steal her from us. As if that would ever happen. Betty is loyal to my dad and would never leave the Rhoades’ household.
Betty clears the plates, and I normally help, but she would kill me if I tried today. She serves coffee and more tea, and then we are treated to her warm homemade apple pie with vanilla ice cream on top.
I keep thinking this is when Kenneth is going to speak up, but everyone polishes off their plates, and still nothing.
Dad pats his belly, pushes his chair back, and asks, “Would any of you gentlemen care to join me on the terrace for a cigar? I have some Cubans that are quite nice.”
Mr. Balfour says, “I’d love to.”
I have to kick Kenneth under the table.
“Excuse me, but can I have a word with everyone?”
They all smile at him, thinking they know exactly what he’s going to say. My mother pats his hand, for she’s sitting at his left, at the head of the table.
“Why sure, Kenneth. Go ahead,” Mom says.
“First off, I’d like to thank you and Mr. Rhoades for having my family here for dinner. As usual, Betty outdid herself. And second, I know this will come as a complete surprise to everyone here, but I am pleased to announce that Jenna and I have decided to marry after all.”
Mom gloats, the Balfours smile, Dad grins, Kenneth preens, but Ben and Sam, well honestly, they look cartoonish with their rounded eyes and gaping mouths.
Mom stands and invites Mrs. Balfour into her stupid parlor. The older men and Kenneth head to the terrace, leaving Ben, Sam, and me at the table.
“Are you crazy?” Ben whisper-yells.
“Yes, but I have no choice.”
“What the hell does that mean?” my brother asks.
“It means … well, it means I’m going to marry Kenneth, and that’s that.” I lean back and cross my arms.
Ben leans across the wide expanse of the large table. “You can’t. Jenna, you are making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“And maybe someday, you’ll thank me for it.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he asks for the second time.
I swat at an imaginary gnat. Maybe I am going crazy. “Never mind. Let’s drop it.”
Sam says, “Jenna, please reconsider. This is serious. Marriage is a lifelong bond. A contract. You have to be in love with that person, and you are not in love with Kenneth. Think on it.”
“Sam, I appreciate it, I do. But I have thought about it. For hours.”
Ben throws his napkin down on the table in disgust, pushes his chair back, and says to Sam, “Let’s go. We’re leaving. I can’t take this silly charade any longer.”
He stomps out of the room, Sam trailing behind.
What a fucking mess.
An hour or so later, everyone leaves, and by that time Mom and Mrs. Balfour have the entire wedding planned. Apparently, the ceremony will be held at St. Philip’s Episcopal Church in downtown Charleston, one of the oldest churches in town. The Balfours will host the reception at their plantation, with transportation supplied for guests staying at various hotels. The locals will be able to use the transportation as well, as there will be drop-off points throughout the city.
On the way home, I call Brandon, but get no answer. What a disappointment, too, because I have some serious explaining to do. To say I’m a wreck doesn’t even come close.
My phone rings and I answer, thinking it’s Brandon. But when Kenneth’s voice comes over the speaker in my car, my posture sags and tears bubble past my lids. How will I get through this?
“Jenna, I can’t thank you enough. I promise to do my best to make you happy.”
The only way I could ever be happy is if I’m with Brandon.
“Okay, Kenneth.”
“Jenna, are you crying?”
“Uh, no. I got something in my eye.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll let you go. I’ll come by tomorrow to give you the ring back.”
“Yeah. That’s fine.”
What I need is a good run. So I head straight home and change into running attire. I shoot out the door, music blaring in my ears, and try to figure out what happened to my mom. Does she even love my dad? Was she always this way? Did she ever love me? Tears chill my cheeks as I blaze through the streets, trying to figure out how this all happened. All the happiness that was in my heart earlier was siphoned out in seconds by her words. The family fortune rests on my shoulders, and I can’t walk away from that.
She always wanted a good match for me; that she was clear from early on. But when I met Kenneth, things went crazy with her. And I didn’t tell her because I knew she’d try to poke her nose in where it didn’t belong. As time passed and Kenneth and I were together for such a long time, it was hard to keep it a secret any longer. When she found out exactly who he was, you would’ve thought I was dating royalty. From that point on, she pushed for marriage. And Kenneth was so perfect when he came over—with his warm charm and manners, it made it even worse. But now, all she wants is what suits her agenda. She doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me or my feelings. And that’s what bites the most.
Glancing at my clock, I scowl. I’ve been running for over an hour. That means I have allowed Mom to completely rule my life. I have to let this go and move on. What I hate about it the most is I lost Brandon before I really had him. Mom has led me around by the scruff of my neck, and where has it gotten me? Now I’m in charge of supporting the entire Rhoades’ fortune.
When I walk in the door, the first thing on my to-do list is to try Brandon’s cell again. It’s going to break us both, but it needs to be done. But when the call connects, it goes straight to his voicemail. So I leave him a text. Two hours later, after I’ve showered, dressed, and paced like a caged tigress, I still haven’t heard from him. Maybe his phone is dead, so I jump into my car and drive to his house, only his car isn’t there. My next stop is his shop. And … nothing. Not sure if I should be worried or suspicious, I return home with a gouging ache in my heart, feeling like everyone has just shit on me.
Suddenly, a loud banging on my door has me running and almost tearing it off the hinges. When I see him, I’m not sure who’s more upset, him
or me. I throw myself at him anyway, thinking perhaps we can console each other. But then I step back and realize he’s now off limits. The only person I ever wanted is no longer available. He reaches out and I step back further, noticing the frown and question in his eyes. The pained expression is more than I can bear, and the damn misery-fest I’ve tried to contain mushrooms into a ruptured dam, crippling me.
Twenty-Two
BRANDON
Her warmth leaves in a rush, and tears shimmer in her eyes. If I’d known what words would whisper from her lips, I wouldn’t have asked for them.
“What’s wrong?” I try to close the distance between us, but she continues her retreat.
Instead of answering, she gives me her back and walks zombie-like to the couch. I follow, because at that point, I think I can help her. Hell, I want to in any way I can.
Her hands are balled on her lap as if she’s trying to keep warm. I wait for her at any moment to blow into them, the way they nervously ball into fists.
“Jenna, just tell me what’s going on.”
Clearly, this has something to do with us. She can’t look me in the eye, not even for a second. I still myself for what she’s about to say. My imagination takes me to places like, we can’t go out in public yet; I can’t tell my family about you yet. Neither comes close to what she says.
“I have to marry Kenneth.”
There is no conscious thought of me putting a little distance between us. It’s more like the air is thinner where I had been, and I need to breathe.
Her hand reaches across the divide, and her eyes finally meet mine. But I’m on my feet, stepping further away.
“When did you decide this? Have you been seeing him again?”
Sucker-punched, that’s the best way to decide the turmoil that roils inside me like the chaos in the midst of a hurricane.
She gets to her feet, her face white as a sheet. But I don’t know which of us is a ghost, because I drift further to the door as if floating there.
“It’s not like that, Brandon. Just give me a minute to explain.”
The chuckle is an automatic response with no real feeling behind it.
I hold up a hand. “There is no explanation, Jenna. The meaning is clear. You’ve made your decision, and it’s certainly not me.”
“It’s not what you think,” she pleads.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m a fool. I think I’ve played a game I never had a chance of winning. I think—”
“Brandon, it’s not like that. I love—”
“Please don’t say it.” Because two can play the interruption game. “Love is a word I’ve never tossed around before. It has meaning to me. You meant something to me, maybe everything. Evidently, I’m a dumbass.”
I turn and exit her house. Her footsteps quicken in the distance, so I pick up my pace. I fire up my bike and head for the bridge. Home isn’t an option, for fear she’d follow me and prolong the agony of having to watch her walk away from me.
It’s dark by the time I reach the ocean. I park and barely take the time to set the kickstand before wandering aimlessly toward the incoming waves.
My phone in my pocket buzzes, but I ignore it. How could I have been such an idiot? I’d known from the beginning it could never work. She’s too ingrained into her family’s wishes to ever follow her heart.
Water washes over my shoes before retreating again. I sit, uncaring that my jeans will get soaked. For a while I stay, until finally, the bubble around me bursts. Noise from a bar not too far down the beach gives me the bright idea to get a drink.
Dusting myself off as best as I can, I head in the direction of the live music I hear playing. It’s coming from a well-known beach bar, which is great. Explaining why I’m wet and caked in gritty sand won’t be necessary here. People are off in the distance making conversation in their lighthearted ways. They are oblivious to the pain that has gutted me from the inside. It won’t be my scene, but I don’t care at this point.
The noise blocks off my thoughts as I order a double scotch. It only takes two more before I let a handsy girl talk me into dancing with her. Too bad my dick isn’t on board. Banging some chick might take the edge off, but it won’t cure the hurt I feel. How far have I fallen? I’ve allowed myself to fall in love with the one woman in the world I can’t have.
“Thanks, darling, but I have an early start in the morning,” I say, as the music stops and the question in her eyes is clear.
She smiles and hands me a card, which I don’t look at. I smile politely in return and leave before I do something reckless. I drop the card into a bin after I make sure the woman isn’t watching.
By the time I make it to my bike, I feel sober enough to drive home. Stumbling through the door, I find my baby brother sitting on the couch as if waiting for me.
“Where have you been? I’ve called you,” he asks like he’s my girlfriend.
Annoyed, I bark, “You’re not my wife or my mother. When did you become so clingy?”
My words skitter across my tongue as I pull out my phone and see that it hadn’t been Jenna calling. I’m not sure if I should be happy or pissed off about it.
“Dude, Jenna called me and wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”
When had they gotten close enough to exchange numbers?
“Well, you can tell her I’m good. I’ve already found her replacement.”
Braedon looks like he wants to question my sanity or sobriety. Whichever it is, I don’t wait for it. I close myself behind my bedroom door and fall into bed. The alcohol coursing through my brain is the sleep aid I need as darkness encases me.
Morning comes with the ringing of bells in my head. How much did I drink last night? I thought it had only been three, but the way the drum beats in my skull, it had to be more. I can’t remember the last time I had a hangover.
Stumbling to the kitchen, I find water and Tylenol when my brother appears. I’m starting to think maybe he has superpowers or I’d been high on more than booze, though I’d never been into that. Still, maybe someone had slipped me something.
“Hey,” he begins.
“Hey,” I say and regret it.
It feels like a bomb went off in my head. Working today will be a bitch.
He takes a stool at the counter. “Look, I know shit sucks. Jenna’s—”
I hold up a hand. “Don’t. I’ve got to get ready for work,” I say, downing the bottle of water, knowing it’s the best cure for what I’m feeling right now.
“Yeah, sure. You don’t want to talk about it. I get it. But before you go, Dad wants us to go with his girlfriend to see her yacht. She’s brought it here for this tour they are having in about four months. She’s going to leave it in Charleston until then.”
“Wasn’t meeting her enough?” I snap. That’s where I’d been the day before when Jenna had sent several texts to me. I’d left as soon as I could, only to be blindsided. And unfortunately, I know exactly which show he’s talking about. It’s the one Jenna has been working on.
“Apparently, they are here for some charity event. Her yacht will be on display for several different events.” He waves a hand. “I don’t know the details, but you have to go.”
“Why?”
I owe my father nothing and even less to his latest conquest.
“Aside from her yacht, she has a sailboat she’s going to let me borrow.”
I narrow my eyes, more against the light that causes more pain to march across my brain. “Why do you need a sailboat?”
If he tells me so he can take his girlfriend out on a date, I won’t agree. I’d played nice the day before, pretending I was something I wasn’t. I have no intentions of doing it again. Then again, what else can it be? My brother is a rower, not a sailor.
“I’m going to enter a sailing competition.”
His earnest expression says he means it.
“Why? Aren’t there rules against something like that with the school?” Because he can’t be entering for shits
and giggles. There must be a monetary prize.
“It’s an amateur competition, not that it matters. This is big. The prize is big. And I’m going to need it.”
“Why?”
I get the second blow in twenty-four hours.
“Kym’s pregnant. I would have told you last night, but you weren’t in the mood to talk.”
And now I feel like a total shit. My brother needed me, and I’d been too much of a pussy over Jenna’s breakup to be there for him. I set the water bottle down slowly. I’d been crushing it in my hands, thinking about playing nice with the pops, but everything is suddenly different.
“Braedon.”
“Before you give me the speech, I’ve given it to myself a thousand times. It does nothing to change the fact that I’m going to be a father. I need this money. Don’t say you’ll take care of it for me. This is my responsibility.”
Closing my eyes for a second, I squash the instinctual parental words that bubble up in my throat. He doesn’t need a father figure today. He needs his brother.
I ruffle his hair in support, both proud and saddened. His life will be forever changed. At the same time, he’s right. He needs to get his shit together. Though I’ll always be there for him.
“I need to get a job to get us a place,” he declares, sounding more and more like the man I’ve groomed him to be.
“You can stay here,” I blurt.
The idea of sharing permanent space with a third and fourth person doesn’t fill me up with excitement, but no way will he live in some shitty apartment.
Braedon nods. “Sure, but only until we get our shit together. This competition is important and can be that first step. There’s never been anything like it. Not with this kind of prize money.”
He hasn’t told me yet what the money is. I don’t ask because I don’t want to be the one to burst his bubble if the money won’t make a dent in what he’ll need to support a family. Although my brother’s passion has been in rowing, he has done his fair share of sailing. It’s as if he was born on or in the water. He loves it.
The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset Page 98
