Wrecked Palace

by Catherine Cowles

  “Um, I think that was more Bell than me, but sure.”

  Kenna had kept us both in the dark one too many times as she tried to fight a past that had reared its ugly head. Her hands went to her hips. “Doesn’t that feel a little hypocritical now?”

  Kenna let her words hang in the air, but it took me a minute to catch her meaning. My eyes widened. “How did you hear? Parker?”

  “No.” She paused for a moment, making my brain spin in circles. “Griffin talked to Crosby and Ford.”

  “Griffin? My Griffin?” I hated how much I wanted that little bit of ownership to be true.

  Kenna’s brows rose. “Your Griffin?”

  “You know what I mean. The Griffin that I’m friends with, not some other random Griffin running around.” My cheeks heated with every word. Why couldn’t I control my mouth when I got flustered? It was like it grew legs and ran away each and every time.

  Kenna smirked. “Suuuuure. Anyway, he talked to the boys this morning and told them that someone left a threatening note on your car. Why wouldn’t you tell us what was going on?”

  “I wasn’t not telling you.”

  “The lack of incoming calls from your number says otherwise.”

  I let out a groan. “I swear. This is not me hiding something from you. It’s just—Griffin was driving by when I saw the note. He called Parker and then stayed with me.” Hot tears began to build behind my eyes. “He went with me to get the kids. Took us to the park and for pizza. He slept over on the couch. He made me feel safe.”

  God, how long had it been since the safety of my little family hadn’t rested solely on my shoulders? Probably never. And knowing you were responsible for making sure no harm came to three of the most precious beings on the planet? It was exhausting. Totally and completely worth it but tiring in a way that seeped into your bones. For the first time since I’d taken custody of my siblings, I’d relaxed last night. I’d slept so deeply, I hadn’t even heard Mia come out to the living room and wake up Griffin. I’d been at total peace.

  Kenna watched me carefully, her mental wheels turning. “He’s good to you.”

  “We’re friends, Ken. That’s all.”

  “I’m not trying to judge or control, I swear.”

  I took in her expression, one that was completely open and accepting. I loved my best friend, but open and accepting wasn’t her usual M.O. She was constantly worried that someone would hurt the people she cared about. But falling in love with Crosby had worked miracles in her life. And it seemed she’d taken our conversation a couple of weeks ago to heart. My shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Thank you. He’s really kind. He’s been great for the kids. And I think we’ve been good for him, too.”

  I thought about how much more open Griffin had become over the past weeks. It was as if he’d been in this state of suspended animation, existing but not fully living. My tiny terrors and the chaos they created brought real life back to Griffin’s existence. And I hoped I did, too.

  “I’m glad. I really am,” Kenna said.

  I rounded the counter and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

  “If you start crying on me, I’ll pick up on my overprotective big sister kick again.”

  I chuckled as I let her go. “I’ll try to keep it in check.”

  Kenna brushed her hair back from her face. “Thank you. Now, tell me about this letter.”

  I grimaced but recounted what had happened from finding the note to Parker’s arrival and everything that came after. Kenna let out a low whistle. “Do you really think it’s your mom?”

  “Who else would it be? It’s not like I regularly piss people off to that degree. I lead a pretty boring life.” My mind flashed to the scene with Patti. Okay, maybe I pissed people off occasionally.

  “What’s with that look?”

  “What look?”

  Kenna let out a little growl of frustration. “The one that says there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

  This was the problem with having friends that knew you so well. They could read every single micro-expression on your face. “I had a run-in with Patti yesterday.”

  “What did that nosy B want?”

  I smiled at the intense scowl on Kenna’s face. “The usual, to make her disapproval of my parenting skills known.”

  “Someone needs to put her in her place. Want me to do it? Please let me do it. These pregnancy hormones are making me extra vicious, and I need an outlet.”

  I choked on a laugh. “Actually, I handled it.”

  Kenna was silent for a moment. “You handled it? How? By buying her a coffee and a muffin?”

  “No. I told her she was a venomous gossip, and then Shay told her to get lost.” I was pretty damn proud of myself. But the reminder of Patti’s threat to call Child Protective Services sent dread pooling in my stomach.

  “Damn, girl. Being friends with Griffin seems to agree with you.”

  I forced a smile as I met Kenna’s gaze. “I think we’re good for each other.”

  19

  Griffin

  “For real?” Mia squeaked.

  I chuckled as I buttoned one of my old shirts around her to protect her school clothes. “For real. You guys go crazy. Will and I will be just across the hall working in the other bedroom.”

  “This is amazing! I’m going to paint a rainbow and a unicorn and kittens…” Mia continued with her list as she started surveying her paint and brush options.

  “What do you think, Avs?” I asked.

  She nibbled her bottom lip as she fastened the last button on her makeshift smock. “Are you sure? Isn’t it going to damage the walls?”

  My chest tightened at the uncertainty in Ava’s voice. She was so careful to play by the rules, to not get into trouble. I hoped doing something a little crazy, but in a safe environment, might get her out of her shell a bit. “There was some damage to the walls, so we have to redo them completely. You can go wild in here because we’ll be covering it all up with plaster and paint in a couple of days.”

  Mia turned to face Will and me. “You’re going to cover up my unicorn?”

  I forced down my laugh. “We are. But your unicorn’s magic will still be under all that paint. And we’ll know it’s there.”

  She thought about it for a moment and then nodded, picking up a brush and getting to work. Ava was still for another minute and then slowly moved forward and selected a small brush. Instead of going for the brightest colors in the bunch, she chose a few muted shades of green.

  “They’ll be good,” Will whispered.

  I nodded. “We’ll be right across the hall if you need anything.”

  Mia waved a hand, not stopping her bold strokes on the wall. Ava sent a small smile my way. “Thanks, Griffin. This is really cool.”

  Why did that simple statement make me feel as if I’d won the damn lottery? These kids were worming their way into my heart one day at a time. I shoved down that faint voice that said it was a risk to let them into my life, to let myself care for them. Because I knew just how easy it was to lose it all.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Will asked, shaking me out of my spiraling thoughts.

  “Paint, paint, and more paint.”

  Will let out a groan. “Why do I feel like we do more of that than anything else?”

  The kid wasn’t wrong. “It’s paint and hauling shit.” I froze, meeting Will’s gaze. “Don’t tell your sister I swore.”

  Will barked out a laugh. “She’s got you running scared, huh?”

  “She does have some epic punishments. And I’m worried she’s going to start doubling my vegetable intake as one of them.”

  Will grinned and headed for the rollers against the far wall. He bent, examining the can of paint. “Pink? Kind of a surprising color choice.”

  I looked around the room that no longer looked quite as familiar. The rose wallpaper had been stripped, and the warped floorboards replaced. But I still somehow wanted to pay homage to the girl whose
room this had once been. “This used to be my sister’s room. Her favorite color was pink, and this somehow just feels right.”

  Will was quiet for a moment. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your family.”

  We hadn’t ever talked about it, he and I. But I knew he had to know some of the broad strokes. It would be impossible to live on this island and not know. “Thanks. I am, too.”

  Will was silent as he mixed the paint and poured it into the pans. I’d already taped off the crown molding, doors, and newly placed windows. Before long, we were working in an easy rhythm.

  “So, how’s spring conditioning for football?” I asked. Caelyn had shared that Will was one of the top players on our islands’ team. And they took it seriously. That meant a year-round program to make sure team members stayed in shape.

  “It’s fine. Boring as hell mostly.”

  I studied him from across the room. In the hours we had worked together, Will hadn’t shared anything about football. He talked endlessly about his sisters. All the ridiculousness they got up to. The funny stories and adventures they went on. He talked a lot about music—bands he’d recently discovered or songs he was learning on the piano or guitar. But never football.

  I cleared my throat. “You don’t like it, do you?”

  Will’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”

  The slightly panicked expression on his face had all sorts of alarm bells going off in my mind, but I kept my voice even and casual. “You just never talk about it. If you loved the sport, you’d talk about it.”

  Will returned his focus to the wall, rolling the pink hue in practiced, even strokes. “It’s not my favorite thing to do.”

  “Then why do it?”

  He shrugged. “I’m good at it. And if things keep progressing the way they are now, I might be able to get a scholarship. If I can even go.”

  I kept my own roller moving across the wall, trying not to make Will feel as if he were on the spot. “Why wouldn’t you go to college?” From everything Caelyn had told me, Will was a prime candidate for a full-ride somewhere.

  A muscle in his jaw worked. “Someone has to help Caelyn. I’m not going to leave her alone to handle everything herself. Maybe I can work for a few years and then go to school. Or take online classes or something.”

  A burn started in the back of my throat. This kid. Mature beyond his years and so damn selfless. I wanted to fix it all for him in that moment. To promise that I’d be there for Caelyn and his younger sisters. I swallowed the words down. “Your sister, she knows what she’s doing. And she has an amazing support system. Bell and Ford, Kenna and Crosby. You know they’ll all step in if she needs them. I will, too.”

  Will’s strokes on the wall became a bit more forceful. “She won’t tell them if she needs help. She never does.”

  My grip on my roller tightened as I thought about Caelyn suffering in silence. I knew she was proud, wanted to do things on her own, but if Will could see her struggling, it had to have gotten bad in the past. But Will couldn’t take this on. He was too young, and he had a bright future in front of him—if he could only reach for it.

  I paused my painting and turned to face him. “If you could do anything, what would it be? No rules, no holding yourself back, anything.”

  Will kept his attention on the task at hand. “Maybe something with music. I’m honestly not sure.”

  I adjusted the brush in my hand. I wanted Will to have whatever dream he settled on. And I’d do whatever I could to help him figure out what that might be.

  20

  Caelyn

  “You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.”

  I forced my gaze away from Will chasing Mia and Ava across the lawn and looked back at Griffin. The twilight glow seemed to make his eyes almost sparkle. It was no hardship, looking at this man. “It’s the least I could do. Thank you again for keeping the girls busy.”

  Griffin scowled. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I like spending time with them.”

  I forced my laugh back. “Good to know the scowl isn’t completely out of commission.”

  Said expression on Griffin’s face only deepened. “I don’t scowl.” I couldn’t hold in my laughter any longer. “What’s so funny?”

  “The first year you came into the store, I think you scowled every time. I made a game out of trying to get you to smile.”

  “Seriously?”

  I shrugged. “You were scowling, but I could tell it was a front.”

  Griffin shook his head, looking out at the yard as Mia let out an especially high-pitched shriek. “I guess I’m not as much of a badass as I thought.”

  “That’s not such a bad thing. I like the real you better.” I snapped my mouth closed. The words had just slipped out without me meaning to release them. They revealed a little too much about how closely I watched Griffin, how much joy I got from him coming out of his shell, letting us in.

  Griffin was silent, but his gaze had drifted back to me. I could feel it on me without even looking his way. It seemed to heat each place it touched. I cleared my throat, trying to dissipate whatever energy was gathering between us at the picnic table. “The kids really love it here.”

  “I’m glad. It’s been nice having some life back in the place. And it doesn’t hurt that you provide feasts to accompany it.”

  I surveyed the table in front of us, my cheeks heating. I might’ve gone a little overboard. But I wanted to do something special for Griffin, for him to share the food I made him with people who cared about him and not with his empty kitchen.

  I’d gone with an Italian theme since we’d gotten in our first heirloom tomatoes of the season. I’d made a bruschetta to start, an array of salads, and a caramelized tomato pasta for the main course with garlic bread on the side. Dessert had been fresh berries and vanilla ice cream.

  Griffin turned slightly on the bench. “Can I ask you something?”

  His voice jarred me from my spiraling thoughts. “Sure.”

  “Why cooking?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He drummed his fingers against the wood of the table as if searching for the right words. “You love it, right?” I nodded. “Why?”

  No one had ever asked me that before. It had always been just an accepted truth. But Griffin, he always looked just a little deeper than the rest of the world. I toyed with the edge of my napkin. I didn’t share a lot of my childhood with anyone. Embarrassment usually held me back. But some pull in me wanted to share the truth of my why with Griffin.

  “Growing up, if I wanted food that didn’t come from a fast-food dollar menu or a Cup of Noodles, I had to make it myself. Sometimes, my parents forgot to feed us altogether. It just became my thing. I started doing the grocery shopping and cooking for myself and the tiny terrors. Eventually, Mr. Walters gave me a job and would always send me home with produce that was about to go bad in a couple of days. It became kind of a game. What could I make with what I had?”

  I glanced out at Will, Ava, and Mia, my chest warming. “I love being able to take care of them in that way. And it just grew from there. It still feels like a game in a lot of ways. Figuring out which unexpected flavors complement each other. I just wish I knew more.”

  “What do you mean?” Griffin asked. “Your cooking is amazing. Some of the best I’ve ever had, and I’ve eaten at Michelin-starred restaurants.”

  His praise swept over me in a wave of warmth. “I think you’re biased because you’re friends with the cook.”

  Griffin scoffed. “I’m a tough grader when it comes to my stomach. I don’t care who the chef is.”

  I chuckled. “Good to know.”

  “So, what is it that you want to learn?”

  I took in the array of dishes in front of us and imagined all the possibilities. “It’s endless, really. I’m completely self-taught, so it’s almost like I don’t know what I don’t know. I’d love to learn from a teacher who could critique my technique. I’d love to learn differ
ent cuisines. My dream is to go on a trip around the world and take cooking classes along the way. Learn the quintessential dishes of each place I went.”

  “That would be quite the experience.”

  “From the guy who’s terrified to turn on his oven.”

  He tossed his napkin at me. “Hey, now. I reheat the food you make me, and sometimes I do that in the oven.”

  I held up both hands in surrender. “What was I thinking? You’re a master chef.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you acknowledging my reheating prowess.”

  I grinned down at my napkin. Who was this man? He joked and played. Let my siblings run wild through his house. Allowed me to take over his kitchen. I looked up at Griffin, at the beautiful planes of his face. My fingers itched to run over his stubbled cheeks. Instead, I tightened my hold on my napkin. “What about you? Is there something you’re dying to do? Somewhere you’d love to visit?”

  Griffin shifted on the bench, going quiet for a moment before answering. “I want to be here. Finish this house. That’s what I want most of all.”

  My chest seized at his words. There was so much pain and longing in each one. “You’ve already made incredible progress. And now it’s going even faster.”

  “Will’s been great. He has a real knack for this stuff.”

  A glowing pride slid through me. “He’s such a good kid. And he works so hard.”

  “Thanks to him, we’ve gotten another two bedrooms on the second floor fixed up.”

  My eyes widened. “That’s incredible. Were you able to salvage any of the furniture?” He’d gotten rid of so much that he’d been storing in the shop, I wasn’t sure if there was anything left to put back into the rooms.