by C. L. Parker
Sure enough, as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, my water broke. You were born about thirty minutes later at exactly twelve noon. When I asked her how in the world she could’ve known, she told me the weather was a sign. She’s called you Sunshine ever since.”
Kerrigan smiled. It sounded just like her grandmother. Availia had always had a sixth sense that told her when and where she would be needed, especially where her granddaughter was concerned. Even though Kerrigan felt like a piece of her died with the passing of her grandmother, she had an abundance of fond memories to keep her alive in spirit.
“So, have you had a good birthday, baby girl?” Her father smiled at her from across the table.
“What?” Kerrigan couldn’t believe he would ask her such a question. As if her birthday could trump the fact that they just lost someone near and dear to so many people, particularly her family. “No, of course I haven’t, Dad. How could you even ask that?”
Hudson furrowed his brow and looked down at the table with regret. She felt a pang of guilt for making him feel bad. Priscilla patted Kerrigan’s hand, wordlessly comforting her daughter while giving her a look that urged her to give Hudson a break.
Always the peacemaker.
“Hud, I think under the circumstances, it’s perfectly understandable that Kerrigan might not feel like today is one to celebrate,” her mother said sweetly. “And, you needn’t feel like you have to keep up the pretenses for our daughter’s sake. She’s hurting just as much as you. Availia was a wonderful woman, and her loss is great for all of us. This is a time to mourn. There will be other birthdays for Kerrigan.”
Hudson shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat. “Your grandmother…my mother loved you more than life itself, Kerrigan. She would want nothing short of happiness for you. You know that. She treated you more like her own daughter than anything else.”
“I know.” Kerrigan’s eyes welled up again, and she fingered the bracelet on her wrist. “I loved her, too.”
“I spoke with her just yesterday, as a matter of fact. She just kept telling me how much she loved me and that everything would be okay. It was like she was saying her goodbye. Like she knew. You know?”
Kerrigan nodded in response, unable to say anything in return. She knew exactly what he meant. It had only been last night that she dreamed of her grandmother, but she could never share that experience with her parents or Jackson. They would think she was crazy and lock her up in some nut house, throwing away the key.
They sat in uncomfortable silence while the penguin-suited server took their order. While they waited for their food to arrive, Jackson spoke animatedly with Hudson about his car, and Priscilla discussed the burial arrangements for Availia with Kerrigan. Early the next morning, they were to leave on a flight to St. Augustine to attend the burial and meet with her grandmother’s attorney.
Availia was the sole heir of the Cruz fortune, but she didn’t rely on it. Instead, she kept it in a bank account she was saving for Kerrigan. Her grandmother didn’t need much. Her house and car were paid for. She lived off the proceeds of the jewelry she made for any other necessities she required.
Kerrigan had known from a young age she would inherit her grandmother’s estate. She also knew that when that day arrived, she wouldn’t hesitate to move to St. Augustine. She loved that old house. It was one hundred percent familiar, warm, and comforting – the only place where she had ever truly felt like she had roots.
“She left you everything,” Hudson said, overhearing their conversation. “I’ve known for quite some time it was her intention to do so. In fact, I had Jackson store all the paperwork in a safety deposit box at the bank.” He turned to Jackson. “Did you fax them to the attorney like I asked?”
“Yep, sure did.” Jackson clapped Hudson on the back.
Jackson smiled at her, his gaze reflecting a smugness that made her stomach roll in outrage. His true intentions with her became apparent in that one instant. All the discussions they had about money, the countless times he asked about her grandmother’s fortune and what would happen to it when she “finally kicked the bucket” – he knew all along that it would be hers. She hadn’t shared that detail with him, because she never intended for him to be around long enough for it to matter. She would rather die than let him get his slimy hands on anything that had belonged to her grandmother.
“Well, I know that this hasn’t been a good day for any of you, but I’m hoping to maybe lighten the mood a little with a bit of good news,” Jackson started. He reached across the table and took Kerrigan’s hand in his. “Kerri and I are getting married.”
His words slammed into her like a runaway freight train that had jumped the tracks and careened out of control, heading straight for her. The thought of being bound to him for the rest of her life was something she never considered, not particularly having a fondness for self-abusive behavior. The audacity that he thought she would even have an inkling of desire to be Mrs. Jackson Knoff – she just couldn’t go there, even inside her head.
Outraged, Kerrigan attempted to withdraw her hand from his, but Jackson’s grip was unrelenting. To add insult to injury, he looked at her with a beaming smile on his face and gave her a wink, as if he was doing her some great favor. Bile rose to the back of her throat, but she managed to keep it down.
Hudson’s face lit up with excitement. “Well, congratulations! It’s about damn time you two made it official.”
She couldn’t even focus on how wrong her father’s excitement was. Jackson’s daring left her reeling in her chair, and she felt discombobulated. The topic of marriage had never come up between the two of them, so she couldn’t believe he had the arrogance to announce their pending nuptials to her parents when he never even proposed to her. Without a doubt, she never would have accepted the proposal. But apparently, Jackson was so in love with himself that he just assumed she would love nothing better than to be tied to his pompous ass for the rest of her life, proud to wear the title of Mrs. Jackson Knoff.
What better way for him to get his hands on the Cruz family money.
Again, she felt her mother’s soft hand upon hers, and she turned to look into her eyes. The expression she found there told Kerrigan that her mother knew full well what was happening, and it was meant to encourage Kerrigan to follow her heart. But how could she do that without disappointing her father? He was obviously thrilled with the idea of having Jackson for a son-in-law.
Gabe was going to have a hissy fit when he found out, and she just might let him bring out the nutcracker this time.
Kerrigan kept quiet for the duration of the meal. She answered questions with short, curt replies and shot death glares at Jackson whenever he asked her what was wrong. Her father just kept going on and on about their impending nuptials, and with every mention, it only made her seethe more. By the way he acted you would never guess he had just lost his mother. One thing Hudson never did well was show emotion, so Kerrigan understood the excitement of marrying off his only daughter was a welcomed reprieve from the grief he undoubtedly felt on the inside for his mother’s loss. Believing that was the only thing that kept Kerrigan from spewing how she really felt about Jackson in a fit of rage.
The farce of a dinner came to a close almost as soon as it began. Kerrigan had no desire whatsoever to play spectator to Jackson’s pleasure in the way he planned her life out for her. Out of respect for her parents, she kept it to herself. It didn’t stop her from excusing herself early, though. Knowing how affected she was by her grandmother’s death and grieving themselves, Priscilla and Hudson agreed they should call it an early evening.
She didn’t utter a word to Jackson on the way back to her apartment. He, however, kept going on and on about how lucky she was to be engaged to the most eligible bachelor in Chicago. He gushed about how his plan was to allow her to pick out her own engagement ring once she got her inheritance. Seriously, he said it like he was doing her a favor or something.
What a great guy. H
ow could she not see how blessed she was to have him in her life? She let out a snort of disgust at the thought.
Kerrigan cracked the window to let in some of the chilly, fresh air. Not necessarily because of the mouth funk that oozed from his parted lips, but because she felt smothered. She was drowning in a sea of overprotective, controlling men. Every time she swam toward the surface and threatened to break free, something else pulled her back under. The rays of sun that trickled below the ocean’s surface and signaled her freedom, seemed to be taunting her, beckoning her toward some greater calling just out of reach.
Her grandmother had been her only saving grace. When Kerrigan was with her, she was happy…free. Grammy had always encouraged her to make decisions on her own. Although she had tried to help guide her along the way, the decision was ultimately left up to Kerrigan to make. Her grandmother called it free will. Every living thing was entitled to it and had to live with the consequences of their decisions.
Her father had hovered over her for all her life. She knew it was because he loved her, but he just didn’t get that she needed to break free and live on her own. Even those rare times when he agreed to bend a little and give her some control, he still managed to lead her toward the decision he wanted her to make. Guilt and uncertainty always put the control back in his hands. Now, he was handing her off to someone else who would do the exact same thing. Only Jackson wouldn’t be doing it out of love. He would be using her. Control over Kerrigan also meant control over her assets.
When they made it back to her apartment, Jackson walked her to the door. Before she could go inside, he put his arms around her waist and turned her to him. “So, I suppose we should consummate our engagement right? You want Big Daddy to come in and put it on you?”
She couldn’t stop the shudder of revulsion she felt when his slimy lips made a wet trail across the skin of her neck, and the putrid smell of his breath assaulted her olfactory senses.
Sex with Jackson was robotic and lacked any real passion. Which also meant he most definitely never gave her a happy ending that she hadn’t had to fake. But he was Kerrigan’s first, so she assumed that was just the way it was supposed to be. She never could figure out what the big deal was about sex, or why all those women talked about seeing stars or some other absurd visual to that extent. She had never experienced anything even remotely close to that. The big ‘O’ to which everyone had referred had definitely eluded her.
However, it was entertaining to watch the funny expressions Jackson made when he thought he was doing a particularly grand slam job. She could be thankful of one fact; at least he was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type of guy, and it was always over quickly and rather painlessly. The only part of her that was ever wounded was her pride. Tonight, she just didn’t have it in her to demean herself – or let him sweat all over her – especially after the gross display he had just put on in front of her parents.
“Get off of me, Jackson!” Kerrigan snapped, shoving him away from her. She opened her door and saw Gabe sitting on the couch. With a roll of her eyes, she turned back to Jackson. “You really think I want to have sex with you after that stunt you just pulled at the restaurant?” Kerrigan’s control was slipping. She wanted to slap Jackson for railroading her into what would be a loveless marriage.
“What the hell are you talking about, Kerri?” Jackson leaned against the door jam and rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance.
“You’d think you might actually ask me if I want to marry you before you go making some grand announcement to my parents!” She was frustrated and unable to contain her ire any longer. “And, the answer is no, Jackson! I will not marry you!”
Before he could say anything more, she slammed the door in his face, forcing him to take a quick step backward.
“Oh, come on, Kerri,” he called from the other side of the door. “You don’t really mean that. You know you want to make Papa Cruz happy, and marrying me is definitely going to make him happy. Didn’t you see the look on his face?”
She had. But, it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She needed to take control of her own life, and right then seemed to be just as good a time as any. After all, her grandmother had left her everything, giving Kerrigan the tools she needed to do just that. She could leave her screwed up life, her screwed up job, and her very screwed up relationship with Jackson to finally own the freedom she craved.
She turned away from the door and stifled a giggle as Jackson yelled through it from the hallway while Gabe mocked him, miming his every word in exaggeration. Jackson would give up eventually and go away, but he would be back bright and early the following morning, acting as if none of their conversation had ever happened. And, there wouldn’t be much she could do about it because her father would also be there.
Before they left the restaurant, Hudson had invited Jackson to join them on the trip to St. Augustine to attend Availia’s funeral – for moral support of course. Kerrigan knew she would call it off with Jackson. Even though her father was acting like he wasn’t as devastated by the loss of his mother as Kerrigan was, she knew he was mourning on the inside. And witnessing a big blow up between his daughter and her “fiancé” would just add even more stress. She loved him too much to put him through that. So she was biding her time.
“You know, the offer still stands. I can shank him if you want me to,” Gabe said over the rim of his Bubbletini. His eyes were still glued to the television screen. He wasn’t joking. He would do it. “I’d cut a bitch for you any day of the week, Kerr Bear. Just say the word.”
“I know,” she sighed. Kerrigan grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and kicked her shoes off before plopping down on the couch next to him. “But, I don’t really think it’ll be necessary. I’m kicking his self-absorbed butt to the curb as soon as Grammy’s funeral is over.”
Gabe reached for the remote to pause the movie he was watching. “He’s going with us?”
“Don’t you start with me, Gabriel Baxter.” She knew he was about to go into one of his fits, and she wasn’t in the mood. “You know how Dad is. We’ll just go and keep our mouths shut, you included, and then I’ll dump him.”
Gabe pressed the button on the remote again and started the movie before uncurling his legs from under him. When he motioned for her to put her feet in his lap, Kerrigan was quick to comply. Rubbing her feet was something he always did to try to help her relax.
“Can’t Buy Me Love?” she asked with a raised brow. It was their favorite 80s feel-good movie. When either of them felt like crap, they would curl up together in front of the television and watch it, quoting just about every line.
“Mmhmm. Patrick Dempsey was hot and steamy even before he became Dr. McDreamy. I figured you could use a bit of the Dempsey seizure to cheer you up.” He flapped his arms in the air, mimicking the scene where Ronald Miller did the African dance. Kerrigan laughed and threw a couch pillow at him.
“Besides, I knew you’d be all emo and shit after your dinner. As if losing your grandmother wasn’t bad enough, you had to suffer through an evening watching Daddykins doting over Jackin’ Off. Plus, you’re another year older, and that’s got to be enough to send any woman over the edge.”
Gabe was not only her roommate, but also her best friend. He was prettier than most women she knew and never missed a chance to show his preference for the same sex. His hair was a sandy-blond and his eyes a light brown. Everything about him was meticulously sculpted, right down to his physique. He wasn’t overly muscular, but there wasn’t an inch of fat on him either. Except maybe in his thighs, and Kerrigan never missed a chance to remind him of that fact.
They worked together at the Bernstein and Fixler Law Office in downtown Chicago. He was the first to welcome her on her first day, having only been there for about a month himself before she began.
His flamboyant charm and flair won her over the second he looked her up and down and said, “Oh my God, you’re eyes look exactly like Ellen Degeneres’s, and that’s my boo, s
o I think I like you.”
Then he had stretched out his perfectly manicured hand and said, “I’m Gabriel Baxter, diva extraordinaire. You can just call me Gabe, but I prefer Your Royal Divaness. A little about me…I’m fabulously gay, I can’t keep a secret worth shit, I will talk about you behind your back, and even when you don’t ask, I’ll still tell you when you look fat. For example,” he dropped his chin and raised his eyebrows. “Honey, do us both a favor and never wear that moo-moo of a dress again, okay-kay-kay?
In short, what you see is what you get. Score for you, you’re now my new best friend. So, let’s go get some lattes, and you can tell me all the boring details about your life so that you can feel important for the first and only time during the rest of our BFF-ness. ‘Cause the rest of the time, it’s going to be all about moi.”
It always amazed her how he could hold an entire conversation with someone else without the other person ever getting a word in edgewise. According to him, his ability to say so much at one time was a perk of being able to hold his breath for so long. Kerrigan didn’t have to question what the other perks may have been. It was written all over the expression on his face. An expression that just dared her to ask.
Gabe gulped the last of his Bubbletini, holding his pinky out daintily – because that’s how divas did it – and then cleared his throat to draw Kerrigan’s attention back to him. “So, judging from that little tantrum you were throwing, I assume Jackie pulled the marriage card?”
“Yep.” She took a swig of her beer. “How did you know?”
“It was only a matter of time, the gold digger. And time was something he sure as hell wasn’t wasting. Grams ain’t even in the ground yet and the vulture swooped in for the kill. Pfft, dickhead.”
