“Yes. I’m sorry about that. But Rachel will be there. I wrote out what I was going to say, so she’ll just read off the card.”
“Sounds good. When is she flying home?”
“Not until nine tonight. I tried to get her an earlier flight but there was nothing available.”
“She’s welcome to fly up with me. I have an event in Hartford tomorrow morning so I’m going there right after today’s speech. You’d have to drive to Hartford to get her, but she’d arrive home a lot sooner than she would taking that other flight.”
“Are you taking the jet?”
“Yes. A few of my campaign workers are coming with me, but I have a couple open seats if your wife would like one.”
“Let me call and ask her. What time does the plane land in Hartford?”
“Around six. Maybe a few minutes after.”
“I’ll call her right now and let you know.” I hang up and call Rachel’s cell phone.
“Do you miss me already?” she asks, laughing a little. “It’s only been a half hour.”
“I do miss you, but that’s not why I’m calling.” I tell her Wingate’s offer. “This would get you home a few hours earlier. What do you think?”
“Maybe I should just take the other flight. You know how I don’t like small planes.” She pauses. “What do you think I should do?”
“It’s up to you.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“I’ve flown on private planes my whole life and never had a problem.”
She sighs. “Then I guess I’ll do it. I really want to get home.”
“I’ll call him back and let him know. Garret and I will drive up to Hartford to pick you up. We’ll stop somewhere for dinner on the way home.”
“We should go to that cute little diner Garret likes so much. The one that’s in a train car that we take him to on his birthday. He’s been so sad with us gone the past couple days. This would cheer him up.”
I smile. “Having us home will cheer him up, but yes, we can take him there.” An announcement blares above me, telling me it’s time to board. “I have to go. The plane is boarding. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We hang up and I board the plane. During the flight, I prepare for my meeting. When we land, I get in my car and drive straight to the office. I call my mother quick to tell her I’ll be home early and that she can go home when I get there.
The meeting goes well. I convince the men from London to sign a multiyear contract with us. It puts me in a good mood that gets even better when I get home and see Garret greeting me at the door. I’ve missed him. I know I wasn’t gone long, but I still missed him.
“Dad!” He hugs me, a big smile on his face.
“Did you have a good day?”
“Yes.” He pulls me inside the house. “And now I don’t have school for almost a whole week!”
“Hello, Pearce.” My mother comes down the stairs with her suitcase.
“Hello, Mother.” I give her a shoulder hug. “Thank you again for staying with Garret.”
“We had a good time.” She smiles at him. “Goodbye, Garret.”
“Bye, Grandmother.” He gives her a hug. She’s still not comfortable with hugs, but she doesn’t mind them when they’re from her grandson. She hugs him back, then lets him go and he comes back over to stand next to me.
“How’s Father doing?” I ask her.
“I talked to him an hour ago. It sounds like he’s starting to feel better, but I need to get home to check on him.”
I open the door for her. “We’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Yes. See you then.”
She leaves and I shut the door and turn back to Garret. “I have a surprise for you.” I take him over to the couch.
“What?” he asks excitedly.
“Your mother’s taking an earlier flight home. She’ll be here at six, but she’s landing in Hartford so we have to drive up there and get her. And on the way home, we’re taking you to that train car diner you like so much. We’re going to have dinner there.”
“Yes!” He jumps up and pumps his fist in the air. “Can I get a boxcar sundae?”
That’s his favorite item on the menu. It’s also his mother’s favorite. It’s a huge sundae that has crushed cookies layered with ice cream. It’s so big that it takes the three of us to eat it all.
I smile. “Yes. We’ll be sure to order the sundae. We’ll split one, like we always do.”
“When are we leaving?”
I check my watch. “Not just yet. A little after five.”
The doorbell rings. I get up to answer it. I open the door and see the little boy from down the street. He’s nine.
“Hi, Mr. Kensington,” he says, looking up at me. He has curly brown hair and his face is full of freckles. “Can Garret come out and play?”
Garret appears next to me. “Hey, Sam.”
“Hey. Do you want to play football?”
“Garret and I have to leave soon,” I tell him. “But you could toss the ball around in the back yard for a few minutes.”
“Come on, Sam.” Garret motions him to come inside and they run to the kitchen and out the sliding door to the back yard.
I take my suitcase upstairs and unpack everything. I toss the clothes in the hamper, then zip up the suitcase and set it by the door to take downstairs. I change out of my suit, putting on jeans and button-up shirt. I go in the bathroom and wash my face and put on some cologne. I consider shaving, but then decide to leave the stubble on my face because Rachel likes it.
I was just with her this morning, but I already miss her. The house just isn’t the same when she’s not here. Now I understand why Garret was so upset when we left. It doesn’t feel right when we’re not all together as a family.
I look out the window and check on the boys. They’re tossing the football to each other, running around the back yard. Garret’s smile is back, now that I’m home and now that he knows his mother will be home shortly.
He was so excited when I told him we’d go to the diner. It’s in a small college town. We usually only go there for his birthday, but he likes it so much we should take him there more often.
I check the clock. It’s almost five. Rachel should be on the plane by now. They probably took off ten or fifteen minutes ago.
I bring my suitcase downstairs and store it back in the closet. Then I go in the kitchen and get a glass of water and sit at the kitchen table. The boys are yelling and laughing out back.
The phone rings and I get up to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Is this Pearce Kensington?” It’s a man’s voice.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s Officer Lander from the Virginia State Patrol.”
I freeze, my heart beating faster, my stomach clenching as I take short, shallow breaths.
“What is it, officer?” I can barely get the words out, my heart now thundering in my chest because this is all too familiar to the phone call I received years ago regarding Rachel’s parents. An officer called. And he sounded very serious. Just like the man I’m talking to now.
It’s not the same, I tell myself. It can’t be. It’s not.
“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this…”
No! Stop! I want him to stop. Please stop. I don’t want to hear anymore.
But he can’t hear my begging. My internal pleas.
He continues, but I only hear certain words. Certain phrases.
“…there was an accident….plane went down…soon after takeoff…”
Stop. Please stop.
“…went up in flames…no survivors…”
Oh, God. No. Please, no. Please. It isn’t real. This isn’t real.
“…investigating the cause…will let you know…anyone you’d like us to call…”
I try to breathe, but I can’t. I’m gasping for breath, my lungs constricted from the agony of his words. I can’t think. I don’t know
if I’m awake or if this is some horrible nightmare.
“Mr. Kensington? Are you still there?”
“Yes.” I hold the phone to my ear. “I…I just…how did this happen?”
“We won’t know until the investigators have had time to go through the wreckage.”
I cringe at the word ‘wreckage,’ imagining a mangled plane and dead bodies everywhere. “You’re sure there are no survivors?”
“It went up in flames after impact,” he says solemnly. “I’m sorry.”
No. God, no. Please, no.
“Do you need me to call anyone? Other family members?”
“No,” I manage to say.
“We’ll get back to you as soon as we learn more about the crash. Let me give you my number in case you have any questions. Do you have a pen?”
“Not now. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I understand. I’m very sorry for your loss. Goodbye, Mr. Kensington.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
21
PEARCE
I drop the phone, my whole body trembling as I sob into my hands. How could this happen? There must be a mistake. She was fine. Everything was fine. It was more than fine. It was good. Perfect. Everything was perfect. She’d get home early. We’d have dinner with our son. Then we’d go to bed and I’d kiss her goodnight and she’d fall asleep in my arms, like she always does.
This can’t be true. It can’t be. She’ll be home. We’ll go pick her up. And then she’ll come home.
The officer was incorrect. He had his facts wrong. He was confused. It was someone else. Not her.
I race to the family room and grab the remote. I find a news channel and see fire and smoke coming from the middle of an open field. I see the edge of something. A wing. The wing of a small private plane.
“Oh God. No.” I back up and sit on the couch, my eyes not leaving the screen. On the bottom it reads, ‘Private plane goes down in Virginia field. Senator Paul Wingate killed.’
I turn up the volume and the newswoman says, “…no survivors. Given the severity of the crash, it’s believed the people on board died on impact. Senator Wingate was heading to Hartford for an event tomorrow and was accompanied by his press secretary and two speech writers. Also on the plane was Rachel Kensington, wife of billionaire Pearce Kensington.”
I drop the remote, my arms collapsing at my sides as the woman keeps speaking.
“Our sources say Mrs. Kensington had just attended a speech given by Senator Wingate. Apparently he had offered her a seat on his plane so she could get home to her family in Connecticut. Kensington was originally scheduled on a commercial flight leaving later this evening.”
“No!” I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my hands over my face. “She’s not dead!”
I hear a man’s voice on the TV. “Early reports say the plane appeared to be experiencing problems soon after take-off. Eyewitnesses report seeing it nosedive into this open field, then burst into flames. Investigators are now…”
“She’s not dead!” I scream at the TV. “You’re wrong! She’s not…she’s not dead!” I grab the remote from the floor and fumble to find the off button. I finally do, then I throw the remote at the TV, shattering the screen.
The phone rings and I race over to get it. Maybe it’s the officer, telling me he was wrong. That she wasn’t on the plane. She changed her mind. She decided to wait. To take the commercial flight.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Pearce, it’s your mother,” she says softly. “I’m so very sorry.”
I feel the wetness on my face and realize I’m still crying.
“I just saw the news,” she says. “I’ll be right over.”
“No! Don’t come over! It’s not true. The news reports were wrong. It’s not true!”
“Pearce. I’m coming over.”
“You are NOT coming over! Nothing happened! Do you hear me? She’s fine. She’s on her way home. Garret and I are—”
Garret.
Oh, God. Garret. I have to tell Garret.
“How is he?” she asks.
I glance out the kitchen window and see him running with the football, a huge smile on his face. “I…I haven’t told him.”
“You need to tell him, Pearce. You don’t want him to see it on TV before you tell him.”
“Stop talking! Stop telling me what to do!”
“I need to come over. This isn’t the time to—”
“You are NOT coming over! I will deal with this.” I see Garret outside playing and feel a heaviness in my chest. A throbbing pain just over my heart. “Don’t come over. I will tell Garret.” I say it softly. “Goodbye, Mother.”
I hang up and stand there a moment, watching Garret play. He’s so happy. I want him to be happy just a little longer. Because soon, it’ll all be over. His happiness will end. Just like mine has ended.
I will never be happy again. Never. My wife. My soulmate. The love of my life…is gone. Forever. And I will never be happy again.
After a few minutes, I clean up my face then open the sliding glass door that leads to the back yard. “Garret, come inside. Sam, you need to go home.”
“Dad, can we have a few more minutes? I was showing Sam this new play I came up with.”
“No. Get inside. Right now.” I take some deep breaths to regain my composure. I can’t break down when I tell him this. It’ll be hard enough on him. He needs me to be strong. To give him hope that we’ll somehow get through this, even though I don’t think that we will. I don’t know how it’s possible.
The boys run up to the house and come inside. I close the door behind them. They go to the sink, filling up glasses of water.
“Sam!” I stand next to him. “You need to go home. Right now!”
Both boys hear the anger in my voice and slowly set their glasses down.
“I guess I’ll see ya later,” Garret says to Sam, his eyes on me.
“Yeah, bye.” Sam runs out of the kitchen, through the living room, and out the front door. I wait until I hear it shut, then go up to Garret.
“Let’s sit down.” I put my hand on his shoulder and lead him to the couch.
“Am I in trouble?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. You’re not in trouble.”
“Then what’s wrong? Why did you yell at Sam?”
“I didn’t mean to. I just needed him to leave.”
“Are we going to pick up Mom now?”
I swallow past the giant lump in my throat. “No.”
“But you said we’d leave after five. It’s after five.”
“We’re not going.” I look down at his small hands and hold them in mine.
He glances down at our joined hands. “Why aren’t we going?”
“Because something happened.” I’m not looking at him, but I hear his breath quicken. He knows it’s bad. He can sense it.
“What happened?”
“There was an accident.”
“What kind of accident?”
Fuck. I can’t do this. I can’t tell him this.
“Dad, what kind of accident?”
I take a deep breath and swallow. I look up and see him watching me. I don’t want to tell him. But I need to. I have to tell him.
“The plane your mother was on went down in a field in Virginia.”
He yanks his hands from mine, his chest rising and falling as he takes shallow breaths. “It crashed?”
I nod. “Yes.”
His eyes move all around my face, like he’s trying to read me. Trying to figure out what this means.
“Is she okay?” he cautiously asks.
I slowly shake my head. “No. She’s not okay.” I pause, my eyes on his. “She’s gone, Garret.”
He inhales sharply and quickly stands up. “No. She’s not gone. She’s not.” His lip quivers and tears stream down his cheeks.
“Garret.” I reach for him but he backs away.
“I…I made her a card to…to welcome her back.” His voice is shaky, h
is breath uneven hiccups. “It’s upstairs. I’ll…I’ll go get it. We’ll bring it…to the airport.”
My eyes are tearing up again and the lump in my throat now burns like I just swallowed acid.
“We’re not going to the airport, Garret.”
“She’s not gone!” He screams it as tears pour from his eyes. “She’s not! She’s not gone!”
I bolt from the couch and pick him up and hold him against me. “I’m so sorry, Garret.”
“Put me down!” He starts kicking at me.
I bring him back to the couch and hold him, hugging him tightly against my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“She’s not dead!” He’s sobbing now. I can’t bear to see him hurting this way. My own pain was bad enough, but now I feel his as well and it’s excruciating.
I tried to be strong for him, but I can’t. My body’s shaking, tears pouring down my face.
He looks up at me. He’s never seen me cry. Not once.
“Dad?” he says through his tears.
I place my hand on his head and press it back down on my shoulder. I don’t want him to see me breaking down. He can hear my sobs and feel my trembling body, but I don’t want him to see my face.
I kiss his head and close my eyes and just hold him.
Minutes pass. I don’t know how many. And then suddenly, Garret shoves away from me, yelling at me, “You did this!”
I tighten my arms around him, keeping him on my lap. “Garret, stop.”
“You did this!” He’s punching my chest, screaming. “You made her go! I told her not to. She said she had to! That you were making her go!”
“Garret, no. She wanted to go.”
“No, she didn’t! She said she wanted to stay! She wanted to stay here with me. If she had, she wouldn’t be gone!”
He uses all his strength to fight me, but I won’t let him go. I force him into my arms, against my chest.
“It was an accident, Garret,” I say. “A horrible accident.”
“No!” He’s crying so hard he can barely catch his breath.
I can’t deal with this pain. I can’t take seeing him hurt this much and also feel my own pain. It’s too much. The pain is unbearable. But I’m his father. I’m all he has left. So I will try to absorb his pain, and do whatever I can to help him get through this.
Protecting Her Page 24
