Unspoken

by Liz McMullen

  Katheryne hesitated. “We will do our best to help Desiree find time for the project. Ms. Chevalier, would you mind if other work-study students contributed to the restoration efforts?”

  “What a lovely idea. I trust that Desiree will find candidates with the most potential.” Letting Desiree make any important decisions was as likely as her mother going on a shopping spree at a dollar store.

  “Katheryne, would you mind if I took some time to consider the project? I would like to compare both apprenticeship opportunities,” Desiree said.

  Katheryne agreed that would be a very prudent idea.

  “If I choose to stay in my current position, I promise to help you find students who would love to be a part of Mother’s project.”

  “I’m afraid you are the only person I feel comfortable taking the lead on this.” Her mother smiled as if she was holding Desiree’s heart in her hands and planning to crush it. That was not far from the truth. Desiree shivered. Challenging her mother publically was a big risk, and she knew she would pay for this transgression. No one would refuse this multimillion-dollar project. Her mother had trapped her.

  “I understand.” Desiree’s cell phone chose the perfect moment to vibrate. It was Suzie. Desiree had asked her to call thirty minutes after she arrived. “Pardon me. I know it’s incredibly rude, but a first year I am tutoring is struggling with her homework. It’s due on Monday and she is panicking.”

  “No trouble at all. Helping firsties stay grounded is a noble job.” Katheryne stood. “Until we meet again.”

  Rosalie gripped Desiree’s biceps in such a way that she could dig her nails in while still appearing gentle and attentive. “You are such a bright young woman. I know you will make the right choice.”

  “Of course, Mother.” She bid both a final good-bye and was able to maintain her composure long enough to get into her car and smoothly drive away. She pulled into a farmer’s market and had the meltdown she deserved. Today was the best and worst day of her academic career. No matter what President Hawthorne said, Desiree knew she wouldn’t reject Rosalie’s offer. Her mother would be relentless. She would get what she wanted, Desiree was sure of it. There was too much at stake, and in this economy, donations of this size would not be turned down. What the fuck was she going to do?

  Her mother was probably booking a meeting with her advisor at this very moment. Fuck!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kat and Carolyn’s Home

  South Hadley, MA

  Desiree pulled in front of a modest Cape Cod home. It was a soothing gray with white shutters and two dormer windows on the second floor. The front door was a cheerful red, adorned with a wreath made from fall leaves, acorns, and red berries. She knocked on the door and it opened so quickly she stepped back.

  “I gave you a solid five minutes. You’re lucky I didn’t pluck you from the car. You must be so excited!” Kat exclaimed, but her enthusiasm was short-lived. She took in Desiree’s red puffy eyes and the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing and pulled her into her arms. “What’s happened? Mason is not the kind of man to make women cry.”

  “Maman…she ah…” Desiree tried, but talking about it only made her cry harder.

  “Carolyn, honey, fix something nice for Desiree. Sweet with a kick.” Kat ushered her into the house and guided her to the couch, which promptly swallowed Desiree up with plush softness. It was comforting, like a thick bath towel right out of the dryer.

  Carolyn joined them in the living room and passed what looked like cider to her wife.

  “I’m tempted to grab you a chalkboard tablet or teach you sign language, but I’ll wait until you get a little bit of this in you.” Kat handed Desiree the steaming cup.

  It smelled wonderful: tart apples, cinnamon, and something else. She took a deep swig then coughed hard enough to see stars. “Wha…what’s in this?” she croaked, her lungs expelling some of the strong brew.

  The skin beside Carolyn’s eyes crinkled with mischief. “Apple cider, a cinnamon stick, and two shots of Goldschläger.”

  No wonder—the cinnamon liqueur would have her singing with a lampshade on her head if she continued to knock it back like it was water. “A bit of warning would be nice.”

  Carolyn’s chuckle was hearty and her sable black eyes were kind. “Kat said sweet with a kick. This fits the bill.” She nodded her head at the half-empty mug.

  Desiree sighed heavily, then took a more modest sip. It was delicious now that she drank it with caution. Cocktails like this were meant to be savored. She closed her eyes and, for a moment, forgot why she was crying.

  “Honey, if you’re ready, please tell me who did this to you and I will grab my bat and let ’em have it.” Kat rested her hand on Desiree’s knee, a motherly gesture and pleasant contrast to her bloodthirsty words.

  “Mother set me up. Spiteful bitch.” Desiree’s eyes widened. She wasn’t the cursing type, but it fit her mother to a T. “She invited me to tea with President Hawthorne. Moments after I arrived, she sprang her trap and proceeded to hijack my life.”

  Kat kept quiet, sipping her own mug as she gave Desiree space.

  She finished the last of the spiked cider brew. Her hand trembled as she set the mug on the coffee table. “The day started off so well. You should have seen it, Kat. Mason had pretty much bought out the Apple store. All these wonderful tools for my new job, each and every one so very thoughtful.” Carolyn handed her a tissue box. She blotted away her fresh tears.

  “That’s Mason. He was a gentleman in kindergarten. As you can imagine, I was a terror. Poured a thermos of milk over Sam’s head for calling me a Kit Kat bar.”

  Desiree couldn’t help herself and started to giggle.

  “Jason had the nerve to sing the jingle, pointing at me every time he said Kit Kat.” Kat smiled at what must have been a fond memory. “So I dumped my thermos of milk on his head and called him ‘Jason the milkman!’”

  Desiree’s laugh started off as a giggle, but was soon a full-on belly laugh. Her mirth was infectious, and Kat and Carolyn could help but join her.

  Once Kat caught her breath, she recounted Mason’s part in the altercation. “Mason ushered a sobbing Jason into the cubby room and called for the teacher to help Jason change.” Kat took another sip; the gold detailing on the cup twinkled in the firelight. “Mason never called me out for my misdeed, just made sure Jason was cared for. What five-year-old has the presence of mind to do something that subtle and compassionate? He didn’t tattle, even when Miss Susan asked. His only goal was to keep the peace and make sure Jason was all right.”

  Desiree imagined a cute, smaller version of Mason. She even had him in a suit—a child version of his current self. Mason was born for the hospitality business. Desiree hoped she would be that effortlessly kind. “I’m not at all surprised. I can picture him coming back to you to make sure your feelings weren’t hurt.”

  The corner of Kat’s full lips tilted upward. “That’s exactly what he did.” She turned so her back was leaning against the arm of the couch. Her deep chocolate eyes were soft with concern. There was a lot of Mason in her facial expression. The resemblance was so strong, they could have been twins. “How did your mother manage to hijack your happy train?”

  Desiree released a shaky breath. “I don’t know how she did it, but she offered a mirror image of what Mason proposed.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her lap, then continued, “A historically significant project, something I could get independent study credit for. All that, plus an endowment too large to refuse. There is no way President Hawthorne would turn down that kind of money.” Desiree ran a hand through her messy hair, tempted to tug at it, but Kat gently stilled her hand. “It was eerie and disturbing. There is no way she could have known the details of the job Mason offered me. I didn’t even get a chance to tell Suzie about it before Mother called.”

  Kat narrowed her eyes. “What exactly did your mother offer Katheryne.”

  Kat calling the president by her first name jarred
Desiree temporarily, but she continued. “She offered to restore all the dorms on the green to their ‘former glory,’ along with a Wi-Fi upgrade and new computers in the dorms.”

  Desiree looked at the ceiling as she tried to regain her composure. “I broke the ties to my family to get away from her and shake the hold she had on me. I’ve worked so hard to live my life on my own terms. Yet somehow, she managed to use her money as a weapon, again.” She was emotionally exhausted and didn’t bother to wipe away the tears streaming down her face,

  “I’m missing something. What does this endowment have to do with you?”

  Carolyn refreshed their mugs. “I think I will turn in for the night.” She gave her wife a kiss on her way up the stairs. Desiree was grateful for the thoughtful exit. Carolyn could be a talker, but she also knew when to keep quiet. Years of owning a bar made her sensitive to the emotional needs of others. Desiree hoped that she would one day have a wife like her. “Thanks for everything,” Desiree called after her.

  “My pleasure.”

  When she heard the door close, she turned to Kat and said, “She has elected me general contractor. She called it an apprenticeship and went on to suggest I drop a class this semester to make time for the restoration project.” How the hell am I going to get out of this?

  “She can’t do that. That’s ridiculous.”

  “Rosalie very helpfully suggested that I could get credit for an independent study from the history department.” Desiree tugged at her hair, then rubbed her palms on her thighs. “That was exactly what I planned to ask my advisor for, only for my work at the Orchard Inn.”

  “Damn.”

  “I told them I had just accepted a position that would function as an independent study and how I most likely would find things relevant to the college since families and alumnae had to have stayed there over the years. I said I would help Mother find the right student for the apprenticeship.”

  “Atta girl.”

  Desiree sighed like a balloon losing the last of its air. “Mother checkmated me, saying I was the only one she could trust to oversee the project since she wouldn’t be able to manage the restoration project herself.” She took a deep sip of the spiked cider but didn’t cough this time. She welcomed the burn and the way it blurred her emotions. “I’m trapped.”

  Kat took what turned out to be an empty mug away from her and rested it next to hers on the coffee table. “That’s a serious problem.”

  Desiree wilted under the weight of her mother’s manipulation.

  “Actually, that would be a serious problem if Mount Holyoke was in the habit of helping parents disempower their children.” Kat’s smile was devious, and for the first time since she left the country club, she felt a whisper of hope. “Katheryne can’t be bought. She takes her job very seriously.”

  “But she seemed all for it, cheerful even.”

  “That kind of gift would make anyone happy, but she probably thought that it was a welcomed opportunity for both you and the college.” Kat fished her cell phone out of her pocket. “I can call her now. Once she knows what ‘Mommy Dearest’ has been up to—”

  Desiree went to grab the cell phone. “Oh no, please don’t.” What if Kat was wrong? Even if Kat was on target, Desiree was not comfortable being a bystander for that kind of call.

  “I can help. We were roommates in Pearsons. You know that dorm. You can imagine what kind of dirt I have on dear Katie,” Kat said.

  Desiree stood up in alarm. “You can’t bully President Hawthorne. Oh my God, what will she think of me?”

  Kat stood and gently took Desiree’s hand. “I won’t bully her or embarrass her, I promise.”

  Desiree looked her in the eyes and saw sincerity there.

  “You are both very important to me. Katheryne is my friend, and I don’t like the idea of someone like Rosalie playing her. She probably already has an idea of what is going on.”

  “Still, I can’t have you fighting battles for me. I’m an adult.”

  Kat cupped Desiree’s cheek with a tenderness she had never experienced from her own mother. “Technically, yes.” Desiree stiffened, but Kat continued, undeterred. “I’m not belittling you, but Katheryne and I are older and have more experience. Rosalie doesn’t have your best interests at heart, but Katheryne doesn’t know that yet.” Kat gently tipped Desiree’s chin up, so they were eye to eye. “Katheryne and I will always have your best interests at heart. She will be on your side, I promise.”

  Desiree’s heart gave a little thump.

  “She’s also smart enough to know that kind of gift to the college will have strings attached. She needs to have all the information so she can make an informed decision.” Kat urged her to sit comfortably again. Desiree was stiff but allowed herself to be led. “I can’t promise you any particular outcome, but know this: Katheryne would never sell her students out, no matter how sweet the offer may be.”

  Desiree was not sure she could trust it, but she let a small glimmer of hope enter her heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Jameson Home

  Northampton, MA

  “So are you going to tell me, or do I have to break out my pliers?” Jodeci nagged.

  Rowan looked straight ahead, much as she had the day she drove Desiree home. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt, never mind how to explain it to her best friend. If Jodeci didn’t quit pestering her, Rowan would ask a few uncomfortable questions of her own. She didn’t like putting Jodeci on the spot. Her bluster was a way of hiding a part of her she didn’t trust: her heart.

  “Rowan.” Jodeci abandoned her needling tone and tried for something softer. “What happened? I barely see you and we share a house.” She tapped on her car door, slow yet grating. “Desiree must have done or said something that knocked you off balance.” She paused and shifted her focus to the fall leaves rustling in the wind as they drove along Route 47 on the way to the Jameson job.

  “Jodeci, I know you’re coming at this as my friend, but you need to back off.” Although Rowan didn’t want to hurt Jodeci, she needed her to drop it. “I think you’ll like Evie.”

  “Is she hot?”

  Rowan chuckled, then responded, “She’s three, so no.”

  Jodeci’s laugh was between a snort and a giggle and sounded like it might have hurt a bit.

  Rowan was relieved her friend accepted the change of subject. “I need you to help me paint the nursery and Evie’s bedroom. I’ll be doing a mural in both rooms and we can assemble the baby furniture while the paint dries.”

  Jodeci heaved a sigh. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t need to have a million jobs. It’s wearing me down.”

  Rowan could relate. Mount Holyoke came with a hefty price tag. Too much for either of them to afford, and work study didn’t even cover the cost of books and lab fees. The latter was especially stiff for Jodeci who was premed. Biochemistry and cognitive neuroscience—just the names of her major and minor made Rowan shudder. She worried her friend would crack one day, and she didn’t want that.

  The road undulated, giving the feel of a mild roller coaster. The trees created a canopy above their heads, which used to scare the crap out of Rowan when she drove at night. Sometimes nature gave her the creeps. She would take a hectic New York street over covered lanes and rural hills any day. “I feel you. From what I heard, Desiree is doing this on her own too.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. So much for avoiding the subject.

  “Desiree’s family is loaded, but she’d rather munch on asbestos than take her mother’s money.” Jodeci opened the window so her hand could surf the wind. “I thought being born into money would make life easier. There are tons of perfectly happy Muffies on campus, but for Desiree, it’s a curse.”

  They passed a few abandoned tobacco barns with every other slat open. Rowan figured that helped the leaves to dry. There were only a few houses on the country lane, and they’d be coming up on Northampton soon. The Jameson home was on the other side of town, just past th
e high school.

  “So she turned her back on it all? I didn’t get the sense she had to work like we do.” Desiree wasn’t carefree, but she didn’t look worn-out like Rowan and Jodeci often did.

  “Desiree’s just smarter than us.”

  “Is that so?” Rowan spoke with a Bugsy Moran accent.

  “Smarter than you, at least.”

  Rowan gave her friend a playful punch in the bicep, but not much more. She had to keep her eye on the road. There were no kamikaze cabbies or bicyclists with a death wish here, like the ones back home. The bigger problem involved manners. Pedestrians really did have the right of way and most crossed with blind trust. Even the bicyclists were a bit spacy.

  “Between grants and scholarships, she has a full ride. She works to afford the basics and school supplies.”

  Rowan had to admire that. She watched a gaggle of girls jostling and playing as they walked down Main Street, seemingly without a care in the world. It was whimsical in theory, but not so much when you were trying to make it through Northampton in a hurry. Compared to New Yorkers, these teenagers crossed the street in slow motion.

  “Drives you nuts, eh?” Jodeci teased.

  Her friend wasn’t reading her mind, yet Rowan’s hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly with each delay.

  “Do you have the money to replace that if you rip it off?” Jodeci gave the wheel a mischievous tug. “Would make for some interesting driving…we could charge admission or pay the medical bills.”

  The joke was weak and Rowan’s laugh was hollow. She was trying to figure out what life must look like for Desiree. Rowan missed her big Irish family like crazy and loved them. She couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to hate her parents enough to cut them off completely.

  The streets were bustling with students, especially as they passed Smith’s dormitories. “Did you hear what happened to Carolyn’s bike?”