by V. K. Powell
“Huh?” She was daydreaming about her conversation with Bennett, again, and had missed her aunt’s question entirely.
“Exactly. I asked what’s been bothering you all weekend. I’m starting to wonder who has the short-term memory loss.”
“Not funny. I’m fine, but I have a lot on my mind.”
“Work or something else? I haven’t seen you so distracted by a job. Do I dare hope you’ve found something more personal to occupy your time?”
Her face flushed, and she attempted to distract Valerie. “This coffee sure is hot. Did you add some kind of spice?”
“Nice try. What’s up? Quickly, before your mother wakes from her nap.”
Kerstin topped off her cup and headed toward the wingback chairs facing the park view. “Do you remember a girl named Bennett Carlyle from Greensboro?”
“You were in high school together, right?”
Kerstin nodded.
“And if I recall, you two had a big crush on each other.” Valerie paused and stroked her chin for several seconds as if searching for buried details. “OMG. Was she the girl your dad caught you kissing in your bedroom? The girl he forbade you to see again? The reason you and Elizabeth ended up in New York?”
“Nothing wrong with your memory.” Kerstin sighed, took another sip of coffee, and finally continued. “I’m working with her on my latest project.”
“I bet Elizabeth isn’t happy. Wait. Does she even know?”
“Sort of. She walked in while I was on the phone with Bennett, and of course she remembered all that history. Whether she recalls our conversation the other day is another matter. For seventeen years, I believed Bennett totally betrayed me when my dad found us together. Apparently, she’d tried to get in touch, but Dad blocked her.”
“Sounds like you two had quite a chat.”
Kerstin nodded. “And I was emotionally off the charts, pissed one minute and fighting back tears the next. I’m not normally an ambivalent person. Now I’m not sure what I believe or what to do. I haven’t trusted her because of the past, and my distrust causes complications on the job.”
Valerie relaxed in her chair and studied Kerstin. “Maybe you should, especially since your dad was the reason the two of you lost contact.”
“Dad was an easy scapegoat at the time, and in retrospect I guess he’s the person I really don’t trust emotionally. But still, I have to accept some of the blame. I didn’t want to be gay on top of everything else—a teenager, the divorce, my parents using me as a pawn, and moving away from my friends. Besides, I watched you struggle with your sexuality. Your family wasn’t too happy in the beginning. I couldn’t bear to go through the same thing, alone with Mother. I ran away from my feelings, and I guess I’m still running.”
“Some things don’t change.”
“What do you mean?” Kerstin wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.
“I shouldn’t.”
“You don’t usually hold back, and you might actually help.”
Valerie leaned close and lowered her voice. “I’m not judging, simply an observation. You can’t use clubs and sex services to escape your feelings forever. Hookups lose their luster eventually.”
Kerstin’s face burned, and she stared out the window to avoid looking at Valerie. “How do you know about my private activities?”
“It’s a small community, and I know people who work with a couple of the elite companies you frequent. The owner of the Cubbyhole is an old friend too. She mentioned that you seemed to be struggling.”
She was still processing the fact that her aunt knew she occasionally utilized escort services for sex. “Struggling, huh?”
“Not acquiring partners but sustaining connections. I think she called you a serial troller.”
“You haven’t said anything to Mother?”
“Of course not. My point is, do you think strangers can satisfy you long-term?” Kerstin didn’t immediately respond, and Valerie added, “If you’ve identified a pattern of running from relationships with serious potential, maybe it’s time to reevaluate.”
Kerstin stared into her coffee cup and shook her head. “Can you blame me? Dad didn’t fight for his family. I haven’t dated anyone who wanted a relationship enough to work for it.”
“Did you ever consider they might’ve if you’d been willing?”
Kerstin mentally ticked through her series of short-term relationships and the reason each had ended. She didn’t answer Valerie’s question. The smug look on her face said she already knew she was right. “I’m not sure what’s holding me back with Bennett.”
“Are you still attracted to her, still care about her?”
“I certainly got quite a surprise when she walked back into my life. What those feelings mean, if anything, I have no idea.”
“But you want to find out?”
Kerstin recalled the emotions surrounding her last conversation with Bennett and searched for the truth before answering. “Yes, I believe I do, but I might be too late. Neither of our lives has been on hold. Women flock after her like they did in high school, and I’d probably have to wait in line. So not my style.”
“But she excites you after all these years. That’s worth something.”
“No matter what happens between us while we’re working together, a liaison of any kind can’t change my life. I have plans, a business to establish, and my mother to consider.”
“Your mother to consider about what?” Elizabeth stepped into view from the hallway. “What have I missed? And why are you discussing me behind my back?”
Valerie moved to her sister’s side, always the devoted caregiver. “Don’t you know we always talk about you behind your back? You’re the driving force of our lives.”
Kerstin considered the truth in Valerie’s words as she vacated her mother’s favorite chair. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you, dear. Why is your suitcase by the elevator?” Already her mother had forgotten the discussion she’d interrupted. Sometimes her memory challenge had unanticipated benefits.
“I’m returning to Greensboro tonight. I have a meeting.” Only a little white lie, but it bothered her to mislead her mother. “I wanted to say good-bye. I hate to leave without seeing you.”
“You’re always working,” Elizabeth said as Kerstin leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“And you’re getting more independent every day. Soon you won’t need me or Val.”
Elizabeth waved her off. “And when the day comes, I’ll leave you both in the city and head to Florida, permanently. All my friends are there already.”
Kerstin had started toward the elevator but turned back. “Do you really want to join your friends, Mother?”
“Of course. I don’t want to live in the cold indefinitely, with you two hovering all the time. Where’s the fun?”
The possibility of her mother living an independent life again hadn’t occurred to Kerstin, much less that she’d want to be anywhere but New York. “Whatever makes you happy.”
Valerie walked Kerstin to the elevator and out of Elizabeth’s earshot. “Your mother knows exactly what she wants. Take a page from her book. Don’t push your emotions aside forever, Kerstin. Figure out how you feel about Bennett. We’ll work out the rest as we go. You deserve love and happiness, and I need to know you’ll be okay before we part company.”
“Back at you, Auntie,” Kerstin said, giving her a long hug before stepping onto the elevator. “I haven’t forgotten about your vacationship with the flight attendant. Every time I bring it up, you change the subject. Is she special, or have you already broken her heart?”
“Stop meddling or you’ll miss your plane. We’ll discuss her later.”
“Pot. Kettle. Promise?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll keep in touch by text. Let me know if you need anything. And thanks, Val.”
On the two-hour flight, Kerstin considered Valerie’s advice about sorting her feelings for Bennett. She admitted that being in Green
sboro again tasted of freedom—no caretaking responsibilities, doing the work she loved without her intrusive boss—and was consumed by guilt. Bennett’s presence added one more thing to the guilt pile—wanting more—a life with someone she loved. Maybe Valerie was right. Her mother’s improvement prompted Kerstin to at least consider her life beyond work and caretaking.
She retrieved her rental car from the airport parking garage and headed to the Carlyle home for dinner, more optimistic than she’d been in months. Was she making a mistake mingling business with potential pleasure? Maybe her libido needed a little exercise, something she hadn’t tried in Greensboro. Her body tingled at the possibility, but her mind returned to Bennett. Their last conversation had ended in mixed feelings and no resolution. They owed it to themselves to resolve the past, for the sake of both their futures.
Her body still hummed with sexual energy as she parked in front of the sprawling house and a gorgeous, slightly younger version of Bennett sprang down the steps toward her.
“Hi, Kerstin. I’m so glad you’re here. Everyone is running around like they’re preparing for royalty. Mama wouldn’t let Ben greet you, so G-ma put her to work in the kitchen. Not pretty.” The young woman took a breath, and Kerstin took the opening.
“Dylan?”
“What was your first clue?”
“You look so much like—”
“Ben? I get that a lot. She calls me her mini-me. You look almost the same, prettier though, which shouldn’t even be possible.”
“Thanks. You were barely a teenager the last time I saw you.”
Dylan laughed. “Yeah, with braces, no boobs, and a serious crush on the girl next door.”
“The first two have definitely changed.”
“I still have girl crushes but no time to act on them.”
“Now you’re a doctor. Congratulations. Well done,” Kerstin said.
“Yep. I’m all kinds of awesome. Now if my family would give me some props.” Dylan gave her a self-deprecating smile, looped her arm through Kerstin’s, and guided her up the steps. “Thought I’d come out and offer moral support before you go into the lions’ den. If you need something stronger, I have drugs.”
“A handful of Valium wouldn’t go awry.”
“I feel the same at every Sunday brunch, but I won’t let them grill you too hard. If they ask something you don’t want to answer, say pass.”
They’d stalled on the front porch, and Kerstin drew in several deep breaths. “And that’ll actually work?”
“Probably not.” Dylan tugged her forward and opened the door. “Better get inside before Bennett comes looking. She’s been pacing Mama’s floor for the past hour.”
“Why?”
“Oh, come on, Kerstin.” Dylan gave her an incredulous stare she didn’t want to decipher. “Let’s face your case of nerves head-on.” She waved her inside.
Bennett appeared in front of them in the hallway. “Nerves? Why? Nothing’s changed since you were here last.”
A wide smile lit up Bennett’s face, but her eyes were shadowed, a contrast of hope and anxiety that caught Kerstin off guard. She hadn’t considered that Bennett might be worried about this evening too.
“Don’t be so literal, Ben,” Dylan said. “The place hasn’t changed, but everyone inside certainly has. Facing people you haven’t seen in seventeen years is nerve-wracking.”
Bennett nodded toward Dylan. “My sister, the doctor. Too smart for her own good sometimes.” Her voice almost quivered, and pride lit her eyes as she looked at Dylan.
Dylan stepped aside. “Okay, so I’ll see you guys at the table. Hurry. You know how grumpy Simon gets if his food is late.” Dylan bounded off after a quick wink at her older sister.
Bennett slid her arm around Kerstin’s waist. Dylan’s touch had offered comfort, but Bennett’s carried heat and sexual energy. Kerstin flinched from the possessive gesture, her first instinct to pull away, but Bennett tucked her closer to her side and escorted her to a living area off the entry, and her resistance dissolved.
“I’m so glad you came. I was afraid you’d change your mind.” Bennett’s whiskey-colored eyes turned dark as she focused on Kerstin’s lips. “After dinner, come back to my place? We can finish our conversation. From Friday.” Bennett stood so close Kerstin felt the quick breaths from her erratic words, smelled the musky fragrance of her perfume, and saw a glimmer of hope in the gold flecks of her irises.
“Your place?”
“The cottage out back.”
Kerstin leaned closer, succumbing to the urge to kiss Bennett, to claim her, finally, but a voice from the back of the house stopped her.
“Dinner’s on the table.”
Bennett lightly kissed her forehead and lingered until Kerstin was on the verge of begging for more. “Can we? Talk after dinner?”
“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper, her lungs full of Bennett’s scent, her body trembling for her.
“Are you okay? You’re shivering.”
“I’m…you…fine. I’m fine.”
Bennett rested her hand in the small of Kerstin’s back and guided her toward the kitchen. The comforting gesture grounded her in the moment, to this familiar place, and to the woman at her side. It also created heat much lower. They reached the dining area, and the Carlyle family stood around the table, ready to welcome her back. Kerstin remembered being here frequently and feeling she belonged.
“Kerstin!” G-ma and Mama embraced her from either side, burying her in a warm hug.
Simon shook her hand, but Kerstin pulled him in for a quick embrace. “Hey, you.”
He nodded to the woman at his side. “This is my wife, Stephanie, and those two gorgeous creatures,” he said pointing to the table, “are our twins, Riley and Ryan.”
“A pleasure, Stephanie. Hi, guys.” She hugged Stephanie and waved to the twins, who barely looked up from their phones.
“Into the basket with those bloody things,” G-ma said.
“You know better, guys,” Stephanie said and gave them a stern grimace.
“And I’m sure you remember Jasmine,” Mama said, smiling proudly at her daughter.
“I do indeed. Good to see you again, Jazz.” She took the seat Dylan patted beside her, which placed her next to Bennett as well.
Kerstin inhaled the delicious food offerings, and her stomach growled. She was suddenly starving. A roast with what appeared to be caramel-crusted topping occupied pride of place on the table. Roasted red potatoes, carrots, and onions flanked the meat on a huge serving platter. Steamed broccoli, creamed spinach, and fresh-baked bread finished the offerings with a splash of color. A pecan pie, banana pudding, and red velvet cake topped the nearby sideboard. Her mouth watered.
“Well, we don’t usually drink, but this calls for a celebration.” G-ma motioned to the center of the table, where two bottles of champagne rested in copper chillers. “Bennett, would you do the honors?”
Bennett grabbed the bottleneck with her long fingers and unwrapped the foil. She popped the cork, and as it flew across the room, bubbly spilled over her hand. Bennett made eye contact and slowly licked the champagne off before pouring everyone a glass. Kerstin almost came undone.
“To our guest of honor,” Simon said, raising his coupe.
Bennett passed another glass to Kerstin, and their fingers slid together, a lingering touch, subtle yet more arousing than any caress with a casual lover. She licked her lips and tugged the coupe toward her, desperate for something to soothe her parched insides. Dylan elbowed her, and when she looked up, everyone held a flute aloft.
“To a friend who’s returned to us after a long absence,” Mama said. “Welcome back, Kerstin. Please visit often. You’ll always have a place at our table.”
“Thank—you.” The words choked past emotions hung in her throat. Even before they left Greensboro, her parents’ relationship had been contentious, making meals tense at best, confrontational at worst. She’d sometimes served as a peacekeeper, sometimes a pawn in
their decline toward divorce. Watching the Carlyle family exchange tidbits of their day and encourage each other, she hoped for this feeling of family and love, one day.
Dylan passed the breadbasket and leaned closer, whispering. “Are you okay?”
“Thinking—not a habit I recommend.”
“Got you covered.” Then she spoke louder. “Kerstin, do you know how the Carlyle kids got their names?”
“Oh, no.” Simon groaned from the other end of the table.
“Really, sis?” Bennett waved her fork at Dylan. “I’m sure she knows.”
Some of the tension between Kerstin’s shoulders dissolved as she enjoyed the easy banter between siblings. “No, I don’t.”
Jazz laughed and pointed to Dylan and Kerstin. “You two are trouble.”
“Well…” Dylan breathed a dramatic sigh before turning to Mama. “You should probably do the honors since I wasn’t around for the actual naming.”
Mama leaned back in her chair and gazed up at the ceiling as if searching for a memory—or the strength to go on. “My beloved husband, Bryce, and I adored sixties music. We were fanatics about the era and attended every concert we could afford.”
G-ma cupped Gayle’s hand briefly. “Bryce worked every day after school and weekends saving money for those blasted concerts. He’d sneak out at night after Garrett and I went to sleep, meet up with Gayle, and sneak back in before daybreak.”
“Some of the best times of our lives were spent playing groupie. Our eldest,” she pointed toward her son, “was named after Paul Simon, one of our favorites. When our next child came along, we’d already decided to name him or her after Tony Bennett, an amazing jazz crooner. Our little Jasmine came already tagged with an outstanding name, so we didn’t mess with perfection.” She gave Jazz an adoring smile. “And our baby had to be christened for the incomparable Bob Dylan because of his songs about social unrest of the time. This one,” she patted Dylan’s arm, “would take a different path.” She looked around the table, placed her hands over her chest, and added, “I’m so proud of you all. You’re my heart.”
Tears clung to the corners of Bennett’s eyes, and adoration radiated from her face. Kerstin ached to be the recipient of such a loving expression. Bennett was no longer the irresponsible girl from high school. She was the woman who sacrificed her own safety for her father’s friend, spent hours at the bedside of an injured officer, and exhibited tremendous patience with Kerstin’s whiplash emotions. This Bennett Carlyle was vulnerable and sexy as hell, and Kerstin wanted to know more about her, regardless of where her exploration led.
