“It’s just a building!” Her brows draw together. “That’s all. It’s old. People die. It happens! Back when this place was built, do you think there was a hospital to take the sick to? No. They took care of each other within the walls. It’s part of the history. End of story.” She storms out of the room.
I hit a nerve.
And she’s definitely hiding something from me. Maybe from herself too.
10
Kenzi
I pull down my sun visor, press my lips together, and check over my makeup. Everything looks good for my lunch date. My date is the CEO of a local startup who is also recently divorced. His ex, who has already moved on, will be there, and my job is to make it look like my date has also moved on with his life.
Shouldn’t be awkward at all.
The morning runs through my mind. Ember was irritated at me because of our disagreement last night. She skipped breakfast and hardly said a word to me when I drove her to camp.
Being the adult, I should do something to try and fix this but I don’t know what. Aside from the fact that I’m completely new to this parenting thing, the last thing I want to talk about is Billa—the probable source of the giggling. But that’s exactly what Ember wants to discuss.
What am I supposed to do? I don’t want this to come between us, but I’m probably going to end up on some type of anti-anxiety medication if I have to go back to that time in my life.
I can feel a migraine trying to start just thinking about Billa. She was my “imaginary” friend from my childhood. Billa would come to the house and play with me. She wore weird clothes and never wanted me to tell anyone about her. I loved playing with her because she taught me all kinds of games I’d never heard of and told me wild stories unlike any my parents ever let me listen to or watch on TV. When they found out about her, it landed me in therapy. Not just a run-of-the-mill treatment. No, my parents sent me to an inpatient facility because I wouldn’t admit she wasn’t real. They sent me away without a single tear shed, even though I cried and begged them not to.
At least I have all day to figure this out. Hopefully my subconscious will be working on it while I’m acting like I’m a CEO’s new love interest. I’m grateful for the distraction. There’s nothing like pretending to be someone else to pull me away from my own problems. Sometimes after a fake date, I walk away with the clarity I need about my own life. Other times, I just leave grateful my problems aren’t as bad as some other people’s.
I glance down at the time then up at the tall building in front of me. My date is supposed to meet me in the lobby and bring me to the meeting-slash-lunch in five minutes. At least I’m getting a meal. I was so worked up over my argument with Ember I didn't eat breakfast. Not to mention how tired I was. The giggling continued through the night, interrupting my sleep. Or maybe it was part of my dreams.
That’s what I keep telling myself. It’s a large house, and nothing sounds the same as in the tiny studio apartment I lived in before. I’m merely adjusting to a completely different life in a whole different state.
Not that any of that explains away Ember hearing the giggling too.
I draw in a deep breath and close my eyes for a few moments. We’re both stressed and dealing with a lot of changes. Her, the loss of her mother and home. Me, the death of my sister and suddenly becoming responsible for another human as well as a gigantic house.
That reminds me I need to call someone to mow our lawn, but I don’t have time now. I need to get inside.
My stomach roars. I better eat well. I’m going to need the energy to get through today. Finding a way to work through the argument with Ember without dredging up my past is going to take some work. Adulting is hard.
But here I am. I’ll find a way to get it all done and somehow raise a teenager who hopefully won’t hate me. However, she may need someone to vent her frustrations on, and I’m the logical target.
The alarm on my phone sounds. Time to get inside and meet my date. Leave my problems at the door.
I double-check my makeup and hair before hurrying to the building. The lobby is bustling—some people are standing around talking while others are racing from one place to another. Someone nearly knocks me over as he runs toward the door.
Another guy helps me before I topple backwards. “Are you okay?”
I regain my balance and force a smile. “Never better.”
“Good.” He returns my smile. “You don’t happen to be Mackenzie?”
My date. I take him in for a moment—tall, expensive clothes, and kind brown eyes that match his slicked back hair. Then I hold out my hand. “I am. Pleasure to meet you.”
He shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Wyatt. The pleasure’s all mine. You’re caught up with the situation?”
I nod. “Your ex will be at the business lunch.”
Wyatt nods. “Unfortunately, yes. I appreciate you taking the job. I’m not sure how awkward this will be. This is our first time being around each other socially since the divorce.”
“I’ll do my best to help things go as smoothly as possible.”
He tilts his head. “You’ve been in similar situations?”
“Plenty of times. I’ve seen just about everything in my line of work. Especially when I was living in LA.”
Wyatt laughs easily. “I’ll bet. Shall we head up?”
“Sure. Anything in particular I should know?”
He looks deep in thought as we head for the elevator. “We’ll say this is a new relationship, so that’ll explain it looking like we hardly know each other.”
“Sounds great. I’ll follow your lead.”
As soon as we step into the elevator, his phone rings. He apologizes then takes the call.
I check my silenced phone to give him a sense of privacy. I’m surprised to see a notification for a message from Dayton on one of my social media apps. I had been on a date with him when I found out about my sister’s death. The only reason we connected on social media was because I accidentally left with a pricy necklace he’d wanted me to wear to show off to his family.
He’s going to fly me down to California for Thanksgiving for another family meal. Hopefully that one will go better than the last one. I’d had to leave his twin brother’s engagement party after hearing the news.
The elevator stops on the tenth floor, and Wyatt motions for me to step off. I do, then he holds up a finger and points to his phone before walking about fifteen feet away.
I look out the window and decide to check Dayton’s message, half-expecting him to want the necklace back even though he’s told me multiple times to keep it. I read his message in his smooth British accent:
Hi, Kenzi.
I hope everything is going well for you in your new home. My family is having a dinner for a cousin flying into Seattle this weekend. Any chance you can join me Saturday evening? You may have other plans, and I wanted to ask you before contacting the agency. Let me know, and we can discuss the details.
Dayton
I nearly laugh. It’s hard to believe he wants another date with me after the way our last one went, but now he wants two. One this weekend up here, and then the one over the holiday.
Wyatt catches my attention and waves me over.
I send a quick confirmation with Dayton since he’ll see that I read the message. I’d been planning on taking Saturday off, but the way things are going, Ember and I could probably use the space.
A response returns almost immediately.
Great! I’ll contact them and will see you in a few days.
I’m looking forward to it!
Me too. Send more info soon.
I double-check that my phone is silenced, then I join Wyatt.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “It was an emergency from my financier.”
“Is everything okay?”
“My ex is pulling some antics. She’s trying to get me to fight fire with fire.” He draws in a deep breath. “I refuse to do that during a business meeting.”
<
br /> “Let’s kill her with kindness.” I loop my arm around his and give him my best grin. “And show her that you’ve moved on and aren’t at all worried about what she’s trying to pull. That’s the best way to win at this game.”
His shoulders relax. “Perfect plan. Thank you.”
A platinum blonde in a dress far too revealing for a business lunch rounds a corner.
Must be the ex.
Her expression hardens when she sees us. She moves closer to the man-candy next to her and glares at Wyatt.
I snuggle closer to my date. “Isn’t the luncheon this way, darling?”
“It sure is, sweetheart.” He wraps his arm around me and plants a kiss on my cheek.
The blonde looks like she could blow steam out her ears.
It’s definitely going to be an interesting hour and a half.
11
Ember
I wave to Gretchen as she gets into the car. Before she closes the door, her mom leans over her. “Do you need a ride, Em?”
“My aunt’s running late. Work kept her.”
“I can take you home. It’s no trouble. My dry cleaner’s in your neighborhood, and I’ve got to pick up my clothes, anyway.”
“Sure.” I climb into the backseat, glad to be able to avoid Kenzi a little longer. “Thanks.”
“No problem, kiddo. How are you holding up?” Her eyes are filled with pity.
It’s the same look so many adults give me. Everyone feels sorry for the girl whose mother died. Why can’t they treat me normally? I’m still the same person I always was.
“Fine.” I pull my gaze away and send my aunt a text, letting her know I’ll meet her at home.
“Just fine?”
“Yep.”
Gretchen throws me an apologetic glance. She gets it. So does Kenzi, which makes me appreciate her even though I’m still irritated with her. Why does she have to insist everything can be explained naturally? We both heard that little girl’s giggling, but she acted like she didn’t.
“Mind if I pick up the clothes first?” Mrs. Ross asks.
“No problem.”
The music is the only sound as we get through the downtown congestion. As soon as her mom races out, Gretchen turns to me. “What’s going on with you? Seriously.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?”
“That’s what I said.” I glance down at my phone.
Kenzi sent a text saying she’ll see me at home. I don’t reply.
Gretchen readjusts herself so she’s looking right at me. “You’ve been acting weird for a while now. I think I’ve been patient long enough. What aren’t you telling me?”
“About what?”
She gives me an exaggerated eye roll. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you, now would I?”
“I’m just dealing with a lot. That’s it. My mom, the house.” My voice cracks, and that stupid lump in my throat returns. “It’s a lot.”
“I know that. But we’re besties. Something else is going on. You can’t deny it.”
“Fine! But I don’t want to talk about it.”
Both of her brows raise. “I knew it.”
“Of course you did.”
“Why don’t you want to tell me?”
I clear my throat. “Some things are better left alone.”
“What’s the harm in talking about it? Might help you feel better. Our talks always do. I’m pretty amazing like that.”
I laugh despite the threatening tears. “It’s one of those things that will feel a thousand times more real if I say it out loud.”
Her smile fades. “What could be worse than what you’ve already been through?”
I glance outside to make sure Mrs. Ross isn’t about to come in. She’s holding her dry cleaning but still talking with the lady behind the counter.
“Well?” Gretchen taps her finger on the middle console.
I take a deep breath and my voice wobbles as I speak. “I found a letter from my mom in her things.”
“And?” My best friend leans forward.
I swallow. “She gave me some clues about who my real dad is.”
Her mouth moves, but no sound comes out.
I’ve done the impossible—rendered her speechless. “It’s not much, but I know his first name and also the name of someone who might know more.”
“For real?” Gretchen grabs my hand. “You’ve always wanted to know who he is! What else have you found? Tell me everything!”
Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away. “That’s it. I found the note, but I haven’t looked for him.”
“Why not? I bet we can find the guy by the weekend if we put our heads together!”
My hands shake. I move them where she can’t see them. “I’m not sure I want to.”
“Are you crazy? You’ve always wanted to find him!”
“I think he lives across the country.”
“So? There’s a thing called the phone. You don’t have to get on a plane to talk to him.”
I look out the window and focus on a crow struggling to get something out of a garbage can. “What if he wants me to move there? I’d have to leave everything. You.”
“Then tell him no.”
I turn back to her. “I can’t do that. The courts would make me leave. He’s my birth dad. Blood is all that matters.”
“Your aunt is also blood.”
“But she isn’t my parent.”
Silence settles between us before Gretchen speaks. “Then I’ll hunt him down and make him move here. Problem solved.”
“You and I both know that’ll never work.”
“I can be intimidating when I want to be.”
I take a deep breath. “I just don’t know what I want to do.”
“Did you tell your aunt?”
“I haven’t even told you until now. What do you think?”
“Maybe she can help. She might’ve met the guy.”
I shake my head no. “Kenzi would’ve only been nine or ten, and it was a one-night stand before he moved across the country for college. No way Mom took her to that party.”
“Wait. Your dad was just going to college?”
“According to my mom’s letter.”
Gretchen counts on her fingers. “He’s a lot younger—your mom’s a cougar. I mean, was. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” I snap. “Sorry.”
She laughs. “I get it. Everyone else looks at you like they’re thinking, ‘poor orphan girl.’”
I grit my teeth. “Exactly. And she wasn’t a cougar. It was one party. Richard was older than her.”
“Hopefully your bio-dad is a lot nicer.”
I just nod. The last thing I want to do is get my hopes up.
“So, what’s his name? You said it was in the letter.”
The front door opens, and Mrs. Ross takes her seat, putting her clothes in the spot next to me. “We’d better get going. I spoke with Carol too long. I’m going to be late picking up your sister.”
Gretchen gives me a look that tells me we’re not done with our conversation.
Less than five minutes later, we pull into my grandparents’ driveway. I mean, mine. When will my new life ever feel normal?
I thank Mrs. Ross for the ride, get out of the car, then wave goodbye. My stomach knots as I approach the porch. Part of me wants to check out the rooms Kenzi and I have left alone. Now we have that mystery basement to add to the list.
It’s hard to know where to even start. The third floor has all those boxes—those are bound to hold answers. I picture old diaries and logbooks, but that would probably be too simple. Why would our ancestors make it that easy for us? But maybe they did. Although, it wouldn’t surprise me if the contents leave us with more questions than answers. That’s the way everything has been going.
I wish I had the hope of finding out more about my dad in the house, but Mom’s letter to me didn’t indicate she knew anything more than what she’d written. She never expect
ed to see him again, so they parted ways without knowing anything more about each other than first names and their age gap—if she even told him she was about to join a law firm. She might’ve let him think she was his age.
I unlock the front door and turn off the alarm. The house always feels so much bigger when Kenzi isn’t home.
Slam!
I nearly jump out of my skin. Once my heart rate returns to normal, I realize some windows must have been left open. Although, that doesn’t make sense. If they had been and doors had been slamming open and shut all day, it would’ve triggered the alarms. Or would it only go off if the outer doors open? I have no idea since I’d only been half paying attention when the lady came and set up the system.
My stomach growls, urging me toward the kitchen, but I’m more interested in the mirror. A chill runs down my back as I recall Grandma staring at the mirror. It was almost like she was trying to tell us about the secret door. Did she know about it? Hardly seems possible when she doesn’t even know who Jack is. Not that we do, either. Her son or her brother-in-law?
It’s so weird to think I might have an uncle somewhere. I mean, obviously I have relatives on my dad’s side I know nothing about, but I can’t believe my grandparents would keep a son secret. It obviously has Kenzi rattled to find out she has—or had—a brother. A dude who could be a grandparent himself by now.
Or he could be buried in the family cemetery I never knew anything about.
Slam!
I nearly jump out of my skin. Time to close the upstairs windows before I do anything else. I readjust my backpack and march up the winding staircase. A warm breeze ruffles my hair as I near the second level.
After I toss my bag onto my bed, a floorboard creaks behind me.
I spin around, expecting to see Kenzi.
But I’m alone.
Maybe I imagined it.
Yeah, right. I’m alone in the haunted Brannon House and a creaking floorboard is in my mind. My aunt is clearly rubbing off on me.
I close my door, look all around, then change into comfortable clothes before walking around the second level to shut the open windows.
Family Secrets (Brannon House Book 2) Page 6
