Lilly and Reed: A Kensington Family Novel

by Allie Everhart

  I smile at him. "I was just going to invite you to dinner. I thought we could catch up."

  "How kind of you." He glances at the other men, his eyes landing back on mine. "Unfortunately, I already have plans. Caroline and I are having dinner with Katherine. And I'm quite certain you don't want to have dinner with your ex-wife." He chuckles.

  "I don't mind. We're all adults. Any issues I had with Katherine are ancient history now. We get along fine. And this would give me an opportunity to update her on what our daughter is up to."

  He looks at the other men. "Katherine's daughter, Lilly, is a beautiful girl. And very talented. She's studying to be an artist."

  I take note of the fact that he called her Katherine's daughter, rather than mine, or both of ours.

  "You seem to know a lot about her," I say, "which is surprising since you haven't seen her since she was six. She's in college now."

  "Yes, it's unfortunate we didn't see her more during her childhood. But now that Caroline and I are back in the U.S., we'd love to pay her a visit."

  That's not going to happen. I don't want Lilly exposed to Katherine's side of the family. I don't trust them and don't want them near her, but I pretend to go along with it. "Yes, I'm sure she'd enjoy seeing you again. So, dinner at eight?"

  "I'll have to check with Caroline first. I'll give you a call and let you know."

  "Your wife decides who you can have dinner with?" I ask.

  The other men chuckle.

  Phillip's jaw tightens. "I said I'll let you know. Goodbye, Pearce."

  "Gentlemen," I say, addressing the other men. "It was a pleasure seeing you all again."

  They say goodbye, almost in unison, then I turn and walk away.

  "Pearce," I hear Phillip say.

  I turn back. "Yes?"

  "If we're unable to get together before you head back to California, please give my best to your wife." He smirks. "Rachel. Isn't that her name?"

  Refusing to let his comment affect me, I smile and say, "I'll be sure to forward your regards." And then I leave, straight out the door, through the narrow tunnel that leads to the outside. I approach the attendant and ask him to get my car, then stand beside two other men who are also waiting. I know them but their names escape me.

  The one man nods at me. "Pearce."

  Shit, what's his name?

  Ezra. And the other man is Halbert.

  "Ezra. How is your family?"

  "Good. Very good. My son couldn't make it today. He's in graduate school and studying abroad this summer."

  So his son is a member. Ezra always struck me as someone who didn't want this for his children, but I guess I misjudged him. Or maybe he just didn't want to make waves. Even though our sons are no longer forced to join, it's expected they will, and frowned upon if they don't.

  "How do you like California?" Halbert asks.

  "I like it very much. The weather is certainly better than here, although today is quite nice."

  This small talk is nearly killing me. What the hell is taking that parking attendant so long?

  A Mercedes pulls up and Halbert approaches it. "See you at the next meeting," he says, then gets in the car and drives off.

  Ezra and I remain. After several moments of silence, he says, "You should get on that committee." He said it in such a low voice, I'm not certain I heard him correctly.

  "What was that?"

  "The committee," he says, still in a hushed tone. "Get yourself on it."

  "Why?" I ask, also in a hushed tone because you never know if someone is listening. "What do you know?"

  Another Mercedes pulls up. It's Ezra's. Before he gets in, he turns to me and smiles and says in a regular voice, "Dorothy saw Katherine last week at lunch. They didn't get a chance to speak but she was sitting at the table next to my wife's." Then he gets in the car.

  He was giving me a message. His wife must've overheard something Katherine said. But what would it be? And what does it have to do with the committee?

  Chapter Eight

  Pearce

  Phillip. That has to be it. It's the only thing that makes sense. Whatever Ezra's wife overheard Katherine say has to do with Phillip and whatever his motive is for being on that committee. I'm surprised Phillip would tell her that. He doesn't like Katherine and doesn't trust her. So why would he tell her anything about that committee and what they're up to?

  I need to talk to Ezra again and find out what he knows. But not yet. If someone saw him whispering to me just now, they'd suspect we were up to something. We need some distance, some time, before I contact him. And when I do, it needs to be in person, and in a social setting, or maybe on the golf course. Yes, that's it. I'll fly back out here in a couple weeks and take him golfing. That'll give us plenty of time to talk.

  My car arrives and I get in it and start heading to my hotel, then notice that the same car has been behind me for miles. I knew there was a chance they'd follow me. Now I have to change course. Make it look like I'm not just here for the meeting.

  I get my phone out and call my mother.

  The maid answers. "Kensington residence."

  "Yes, this is Pearce. I need to speak with my mother, please."

  "One moment, Sir."

  There's silence and then, "Pearce?"

  "Mother, I'm glad you're home. I'm here in Connecticut and thought I'd stop over."

  "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

  "It was a last minute trip. I had a client who wanted to meet with me before he left for Europe on Monday."

  "What time will you be arriving?"

  "In about ten minutes. I'm not far from your house."

  "Pearce, you know better than to arrive on such short notice."

  "I'm your son. I shouldn't have to give notice." I say it jokingly.

  Since my father died, my mother and I have a more relaxed relationship. We can actually joke with each other, which would've never happened when my father was alive.

  "Very well," she says. "I'll have the maid put on some tea."

  "I'd prefer coffee if that's okay."

  "Certainly. I'll see you shortly."

  In the past, I would have never asked for coffee instead of tea. My mother would've been offended by the request and scolded me for it. But now, she's more open to such things and even agreeable. She's still very formal and she still feels the need to scold me now and then, but for the most part, we get along quite well, or at least better than we did when my father was alive.

  "Hello, Mother," I say as she greets me at the door. That's another thing that's changed. She used to always have the maid meet me at the door.

  "Hello, Pearce."

  "It's good to see you." I step inside and give her a brief hug. She's still not comfortable with hugs, unless they're from children. She's been out to visit us in California several times now and Garret's children are always hugging her. That's just the way they are. All four of them are very affectionate. Every time she visits, they run up to her all at once and hug her. And when she sits down, the twins climb onto her lap. The children have no idea what a big deal it is for my mother to allow such things. When I was a child, there were no hugs, and I would've been scolded for climbing on her lap. But with my father no longer influencing her, my mother is softening up and now she actually welcomes the children's affection.

  It's good for my mother to be around the children and the rest of the family but she only visits us once a year. I can't convince her to come more often than that. I've asked her to move to California but she won't do it. She's always lived on the East Coast and has no desire to ever move. It's where she's most comfortable. But I wish she'd at least move out of this house. It's far too large for one person and it holds memories of my father, many of which I know she'd like to forget.

  "The coffee's almost ready. Shall we go in the sitting room?"

  I follow her to the small room that's just off the living room. The two rooms are very similar, with high-backed upholstered chairs in a light cream
color. The only difference is the living room has a couch. The room we're in now is called the sitting room simply because this house has so many rooms that if you didn't give them names you wouldn't know where to go when being directed to one of them.

  "So," my mother says, "you said you're out here for business. Are you preparing to give another speech?" She crosses her legs and smooths her hand over her navy blue skirt.

  "Actually, I'm not here on business, at least not that type of business."

  There's no need to lie to my mother about this. In fact, on the way over here, I was thinking she might be able to help me figure out what's going on. She knows this world better than I do. She grew up in it. Her father was a member, as was her brother. And she lived with my father for all those years. I'm sure he didn't tell her what went on there, but my mother is a very observant woman. She didn't need him to tell her. She could figure it out herself.

  The maid comes in with a large silver tray and sets it down on the table.

  "Coffee, Sir?" she asks.

  "Yes. Thank you."

  My mother and I remain silent as the maid pours the coffee. She's worked here for years and knows I don't take cream and sugar so doesn't bother asking. She hands me the cup, then pours my mother some tea.

  When she's done, she leaves and my mother says, "Why would you attend a meeting?"

  My mother knows the real reason I'm here in town without me even having to tell her. I can already see the concern on her face. Never in a million years would she ever admit it, but I know she didn't ever want me to be part of this. And I know she was secretly relieved when Garret wasn't forced to join.

  "William is sick," I say, then take a sip of my coffee.

  "Yes, I heard. How is he doing?"

  "He's better now but he's been told he has to take some time off."

  "I see. But he'll remain as CEO of the company?"

  "Yes. His time off is being taken from—"

  "I understand," she says, not wanting me to say their name. She doesn't like it spoken aloud in the house. "You're not taking his place, are you?" Her face becomes even more concerned, her teacup rattling just slightly as it rests on the saucer she holds on her lap.

  "No," I say hoping to settle her nerves. "That's not allowed. As long as William still holds the position, it will remain his and not be filled, even on a temporary basis."

  "Then your attendance at the meeting was simply to..." She pauses to find the right words. When it comes to this topic, my mother speaks in code, as though she's worried someone's listening. "Reacquaint yourself with the other men," she says, finishing her thought. "I suppose it's been a while since you've seen them."

  "Yes," I say, playing along. "It was good to see everyone again. Ezra was there. You remember Ezra, don't you? He and I went to Yale together."

  "Of course I remember him. His mother and I have been on several committees together."

  "What about his wife? Dorothy? Do you know her at all?"

  "I've met her once but I don't know her personally. Why do you ask?"

  "Ezra mentioned her. He said she was having lunch the other day and ran into Katherine. They didn't speak. Katherine was at the table next to hers. I was wondering if you'd heard anything about Dorothy, like perhaps that she tends to exaggerate the truth? Make up stories?"

  "Pearce, you know I don't take part in the gossip mill. It's so unbecoming."

  "Yes, but I know your friends take part in it and I know you've heard them talking. So have heard anything about Dorothy?"

  She stops to think, taking a sip of her tea. She places her cup back on the saucer, then says, "No. I've never heard any comments that would indicate that Dorothy is one of those women who spins tales to get attention. Ezra's mother isn't that way either so I doubt she would choose a woman for her son who would partake in such activities."

  Like most members, Ezra's wife was chosen for him, and from my mother's comment, his parents must've been given a say in it. So if Dorothy isn't one to make up stories, then what she told Ezra is true. But what was it? What did Katherine say?

  "Mother, you haven't heard from Katherine recently, have you?"

  "I see her at various events, but I try to avoid her. She's doing everything possible to work her way back into our world, and in doing so, she's coming off as desperate. Last summer, I even heard her introduce herself as Katherine Kensington." She huffs. "It's a disgrace the way she still tries to use our family name to her advantage."

  "Did you correct her?"

  "Of course not. I'm not going to get myself involved in her ridiculous attempts to regain her social status. Besides, what would be the point in correcting her? Everyone knows she's no longer a Kensington."

  "Do you know what she's been up to recently?"

  "Her son has been seen at some events in New York, which I surmise is Katherine's attempt to become a socialite again."

  "Her son is only twelve. I doubt he'll be able to do that."

  "He's her only choice since she's unable to use Lilly in that way. I saw her son pictured in the paper just recently at one of the events he attended. He's very handsome. And tall for his age. He looks older than twelve."

  I haven't seen Katherine's son in years. During the school year she sends him off to boarding school in Europe and sometimes he even spends the summers there. Katherine has no patience for children so either ignores them, as she did with Lilly, or sends them away, as she did with her son. But now it sounds as though she's suddenly interested in him because he might serve a purpose.

  "You were the same way at that age," my mother continues. "You were so tall that people assumed you were fourteen when you were really only twelve." She sips her tea. "Katherine's son already has a girlfriend. Well, I suppose they're not really dating at that age but they've attended some events together."

  "And let me guess," I say, "the young lady's parents are of interest to Katherine."

  "Yes. The girl's father owns a real estate investment firm that is quite successful."

  "And her mother?"

  "Is a philanthropist, as are the girl's grandparents."

  Meaning they come from old money and have so much of it that instead of working actual jobs they spend their time finding ways to donate a portion of their wealth, likely in a way that will benefit them the most. That may sound cynical but I've spent my life around wealthy people and know their motives are usually self-serving.

  A thought pops in my head as my mother drinks her tea. The new member committee. Phillip being on it. Is Katherine hoping her brother-in-law can convince the committee to make her husband a member, thus making her son eligible for membership? Or is she focusing solely on her son, hoping the organization will recruit him while he's still young and naive and can be molded into whatever they want him to be? If she's already grooming him to be part of the society scene, attending events and being photographed, then it's quite possible they would consider him. Lilly said her half brother is very smart and mature and comfortable in social settings, all characteristics the organization would find appealing. Of course, he'd have to be willing to carry out their assignments, but as Katherine's son, I'm sure he has an evil streak in him. We all do, really. It's just that not all of us express it.

  "That must be what it is," I say to myself.

  "Speak up, Pearce," my mother says. "You know I don't like it when you mumble."

  "I suspect Katherine is wanting her son to be given membership someday. She may have even begun the process to make it happen."

  "She can try all she wants but they'll never accept him."

  "Why? Because of Katherine?"

  "Because of her husband." She innocently sips her tea but a mischievous gleam in her eyes tells me she's hiding a secret.

  "What is it, Mother? What do you know?"

  She sets her teacup down. "I'm simply saying they don't like Katherine's husband. And therefore they would never accept his son for membership."

  "Why? What did Lyndon do? Are they upset by th
e scandal he caused when he had an affair with Katherine?"

  "It wasn't the scandal. Scandals can be overlooked, and by now, his indiscretions have been all but forgotten."

  "Then what is it? Just tell me."

  She pauses, then says, "Before Leland died, he was trying to obtain membership for Katherine's husband. Leland hated the fact that his son-in-law wasn't part of it. But before the members could even consider it, Lyndon began making demands, asking for money, asking them to get his Senate position back. Once he knew the group existed, he wanted the perks, and when he didn't get them, he threatened to tell their secrets. Honestly, I'm surprised Lyndon is still around after that. But their threats seemed to quiet him because after that, he never asked for another thing. His membership was declined, and so far, he's kept their secrets, pretending they don't exist."

  I'm stunned that all this went on and yet I never heard about it. "How do you know all this?"

  "I saw things." She lifts her chin and smooths her hair. "Overheard things."

  "How is it that I never knew this?"

  "These were backroom discussions. There was nothing official going on at the time. Leland worked behind the scenes. He tried to involve your father but he wanted no part of it. And it ended soon after it began. I'm guessing only a handful of the members know about this, but it doesn't matter. Lyndon has been blacklisted and will never be allowed to join."

  "That doesn't mean his son will be blacklisted as well."

  "I suppose it's possible he could be considered someday, but I doubt it will happen."

  "It will if he has the right people in the right places."

  "What are you referring to?" she asks.

  "Phillip was at the meeting today."

  She leans forward, placing her cup and saucer on the silver tray. "Yes, I heard he was in town but I'm not certain how long he's staying."

  "He's moving here. He already bought a house."

  "Well, they certainly kept that quiet. News like that would spread quickly and yet I'm just hearing about it now."

  "I think that's intentional. I think Phillip didn't want people knowing until he had certain things in place. At the meeting I discovered that—"