Jules linked her arm through mine and led me to the door. “Just think about what happens after the party.”
“It’s not appropriate to talk about.”
“Ga-ross!”
We laughed as we got into the elevator. I fell silent, listening to the sound of my own heart. There would be people I knew, and I’d take comfort in the small dose of the familiar. Most of my life had become the unfamiliar, but I’d deal with that, too; I always did. I was nothing, if not adaptable.
I searched for Kai, wondering why I couldn’t find him in the crowd. Letting Jules guide me, I didn’t know where we were going until I saw the stage. Kai sat on a stool, a mandolin across his lap.
His blue-gray eyes were devouring me, and I didn’t care that everyone could see. His face was a canvas, painted in shades of love and hope. My gaze slid to the lone man walking onto the platform. He carried a banjo and sat in the other chair.
I recognized Béla Fleck, whose song Kai had performed the first night we’d met—the song that always hummed just below the surface of my skin.
They played it for me.
When they finished, they moved into another song, something I’d never heard before. I knew it was written for me, for us. Kai stared at me, his heart in his eyes; mine was in my throat.
•••
I leaned into Kai, pressing myself against him as we swayed on the dance floor, our arms wrapped around each other. I sighed in dreamy contentment. “You are an incredible husband.” I stared at him as I brushed a hand down his tuxedo-clad arm.
Kai smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Award-winning?”
I laughed. “Yes. When did you write that song?”
“You nap a lot now—I had some time.”
“That simple, huh?”
“Ever hear of a little thing called inspiration?”
I grinned. “Starting to.” My journal writings had diverged onto a new path, paved with thick mossy trees and speckled with sunlight. I wondered where it would lead, and if I’d follow.
“So how’d you get him here?”
“Béla Fleck?”
“Yeah.”
“My secret. Just know that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Good to know.”
I brought his mouth close to mine, getting ready to ask him if he wanted to leave when George appeared next to us and asked, “Can I cut in?”
I swallowed my sigh of disappointment. I wanted to be with Kai, and only Kai, but our time alone would have to wait.
“Sure. I’ll go dance with Memaw.” Kai brought my hand to his lips, his eyes promising me joy and other things, before walking away.
George held out his arms and I stepped into them. “Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For going along with this.”
“Did it make Claire happy?”
George’s lips twitched in humor. “Does anything make Claire happy? No, I was thanking you for myself. It made my home life far more enjoyable this past month.”
I chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
George looked over my shoulder and stared at Kai. “He used to be so restless. Now he looks happy.”
“He is.”
“We have you to thank for that.”
“Me?”
“I don’t know how I can ever repay you. What you’ve done for Kai, for our family…”
My eyes misted. “We’re family, George. You owe me nothing.”
George was about to reply when there was a shout from across the room. I turned at the sound, wondering what was happening. I saw Wyatt kneeling on the ground next to a form I couldn’t make out. Breaking free of George’s embrace I ran, shoving people out of the way. The crowd parted as I approached, and I saw a pale and unconscious Memaw on the floor. She looked small and frail, and the pulse at her neck fluttered like the beat of a dragonfly’s wing.
Kai yelled for someone to call an ambulance. His eyes scanned the guests, and I knew he was looking for me. When he saw me, he reached out, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to his side.
I placed a hand on the frantic beating of his heart.
•••
The mood in the Ferris library was somber. George’s eyes were empty, his face painting a picture of disbelief. Memaw had had a stroke. By the time the ambulance had arrived, it was too late. Her life had slipped away, like soil through a closed hand.
Everyone was still in their formal wear, a painful reminder that hours ago we had been celebrating. Now, we would have to plan for a funeral.
Is this life? From happiness and health to death in one breath?
I glanced at Kai. Solemn face, haunted eyes, but his grip was strong in mine.
“I need to lie down,” George announced, his voice broken. Standing, he set his bourbon on the end table. He paused, looking unsure before leaving.
“Should we start thinking about the funeral?” Wyatt asked.
Claire nodded. “I’ll start the arrangements.”
George wasn’t in a mental state to see to it, and now Claire was the matriarch of the family. She had duties and impossible shoes to fill.
Lucy spoke up, “Please let me know what I can do to help.”
Wyatt and Lucy left, and the room was quiet with loss.
Claire looked at her son before her eyes darted to me. “Will you leave? After the funeral I mean? There’s nothing keeping you here anymore.”
Kai was about to answer when I interjected, “We haven’t talked about it yet, but I think we’ll stay for a few more weeks, at least.”
He gazed at me, tracing a finger over my ear, his eyes saying everything his mouth couldn’t. Turning his attention back to his mother, he said, “Get some rest, Mom.” Kai stood and kissed his mother on the cheek.
“Kaplan is coming by tomorrow to read the will.”
“We’ll be here,” Kai assured her. We were out the front door, and the cool night welcomed us, a reprieve from the subdued intensity of the library. “Want to go for a drive?”
“Sure.”
Kai drove us up into the mountains and parked. We got out of the car, and he stripped off his tuxedo jacket and bowtie, and threw them into the back seat.
“I wish I could get out of this dress.”
“You can.” He reached for my zipper.
“I’ll be in nothing but a slip.”
“Who cares? No one to see you out here.”
“I’ll be cold.” The weather had turned. It was officially autumn.
After he helped me out of the gown, I shrugged into his tuxedo jacket, and we climbed onto the hood and sat next to each other.
We watched the stars winking at us from above. I never saw them in New York due to the city’s light pollution. I had settled for so little, but I had thought it was so much. But moments like these were what mattered.
“You’re sad.”
“Yeah, but not in the way you think.”
“Explain.”
“I miss her already, but I’m not sure I believe it yet. I can’t help but hope she’s with my grandfather.”
“In a better place and all that?”
“Maybe. I think she’s with Tristan and Reece, too, and they’re all sitting around a table playing poker, waiting for the rest of us to join them.”
“She played poker?”
“Are you kidding? She taught me the game, and she was better at it than anyone. God, I learned so much from both of them—things I never learned from my own parents.”
“Tell me what you learned, tell me what you’re going to teach our children.”
His hand toyed with my hair as he answered, “My grandfather taught me how to play the mandolin, to hold a fishing rod, to recognize the right woman when she came along.”
“How did you know I was the right one?” I asked, snuggling close to him, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and placing my hand against his warm skin.
“I wanted you for more than one night. I started
thinking in terms of forever when I met you—and I’d never been one to dream about forever. I didn’t think I deserved it. You made me want to stop wandering, made me want to finish something, made me want to love you with everything that I am.”
A lone tear, an elegant dewdrop, escaped the corner of my eye. “And your grandmother, what did you learn from her?”
“Everything—,” his voice caught in the back of his throat, “everything else.”
•••
“Can I get anyone a drink?” Claire asked, ever the polite hostess. We shook our heads, except George, who didn’t appear to be listening. I sat on a leather couch in the library, holding Kai’s hand. Wyatt was alone in a chair, and Claire perched next to her husband, her spine straight.
Kaplan, the lawyer, picked up the document resting on the desk and cleared his throat. He read Memaw’s words, “My liquid assets, including stocks, retirement funds and bank balances are to be divided evenly between my son, George, and my grandsons, Wyatt and Kai. As for my home and all properties, including land—I bequeath to Sage Harper Ferris.”
“What?” I asked, feeling like I’d gone momentarily dumb. “Can you repeat that?” I stared at the lawyer, uncomprehending. Kai looked like he hadn’t even heard the news.
Kaplan reread Memaw’s will, and then Claire perused me as if seeing me for the first time.
“This has to be some kind of mistake,” Claire said.
“Mom,” Wyatt began.
“No, we have to contest this. She obviously wasn’t in her right mind.” Claire stood, her eyes blazing.
“Memaw was as sane as they come,” Kai stated.
Claire turned towards Kai. “Your wife,” she spat, “has been in the family for all of five minutes. This is ridiculous—how did you do it, Sage?”
“You think I orchestrated this?” I gasped.
“Stop it!” Kai pleaded. He stood, ready to defend me.
“Claire,” George snapped, coming out of the daze he’d been in for the better part of two days. “That’s enough. This was my mother’s choice, not yours. Sit. Down.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Claire hissed.
George’s eyes were dull when they focused on his wife. “She discussed it with me before she changed her will.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “What? What are you talking about?”
“About two months ago, shortly after Kai and Sage came home,” George said, exhaustion pervading his voice.
With one last baleful glance in my direction, Claire stormed out of the room. George looked after her, his face weary, and said, “I don’t have the strength.”
“I’ll go.” Kai said, following his mother.
“Kaplan, I’ll walk you out,” George said.
“Thanks,” the lawyer said. “The rest of the details are spelled out clearly in the will. Call me if you have any questions.”
No doubt he was used to triggering emotional landmines. Perhaps this family was normal.
When I was alone with Wyatt, I said, “I did not—”
He cut me off. “I know.”
“I don’t understand. Why did Memaw do it?”
Wyatt smiled. “Honestly I think Memaw thought that if she gave you the land and house, it might give you two a reason to stay.”
Setting a hand on my belly, I leaned my head against the back of the couch. I felt a ripple just below the surface of my skin, realizing my child moved for the first time. Even in my state of grief, I was overwhelmed by a surge of joy and a deeper connection with the life I carried inside me.
It reminded me that birth and death were merely front and back covers—the stuff in between nothing more than a novella.
Chapter 23
Kai
My mother and I were outside behind the house, the smell of changing leaves and wood smoke in the air.
Mom crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at me.
“This isn’t about the will at all, is it?” My voice carried across the abyss of resentment. I doubted she’d hear me.
“She’s a predator.”
“You’re still on this? She thought I was a broke musician when we met. She thought I had nothing, and she still wanted me. Besides, she has her own money.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Her mother was Penny Harper, the author. She left Sage everything when she died.”
“The Penny Harper?”
“Yeah. Sage isn’t using me. She didn’t trap me, Mom. We love each other. Why can’t you understand that?”
“That doesn’t change how fast you two got married. You still barely know each other.”
“You know, it doesn’t matter what you think anymore. I’m a man. I wish you could see me as one.”
Her face and voice were tight with pain. “You don’t know what it’s like—to have expectations and then have them—”
“Fall short? That’s what you want to say, right? I’m a raging disappointment?” I raked a hand through my hair. “Do you love me?” It came out as an accusation.
Genuine hurt flashed across her face. “Of course I do.”
“No,” I said quietly, “I don’t think you do. If you did, you wouldn’t be trying to burn down everything I’ve tried to build for myself.” It was devastating to realize my own mother didn’t love me unconditionally.
“And what is it you think you’ve built? Your father and I have been married over thirty years. You think it’s easy? You think love is enough?”
I laughed without amusement. “No, it isn’t. But we’re right for each other and I can’t explain why. We’re meant to be together.”
“Sure, for now. Until things get too hard for you. And they will get too hard for you, Kai. You ran when Tristan and Reece died. You’ll run again, and she’ll let you.”
My body went cold with anger. “Wow. You’ve got no illusions about who I am, huh?” I stared at her. “I’m guessing you had no idea I was supposed to be in that plane.”
Mom gazed at me, her hawk eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”
I knew Alice and Keith hadn’t told my parents. They, themselves, wouldn’t have even known about it if I hadn’t been drinking after the crash. But drunk out of my mind, I hadn’t been able to hold the words in my mouth, so I’d spewed them, hoping it would rid me of the blackness. Alice and Keith had carried the truth for two years, letting me tell it when I was ready. If I had never returned, they would’ve gone on bearing it, but I was back now, and everyone needed to know.
“Reece and I played rock, paper, scissors for the first flight, and I won, but I gave him my spot. I thought I was being a good friend. I left when they died because of the guilt.” I stared at my mother; she paled with my admission. “It should’ve been me up there—but I’m glad I lived, do you know why?”
Mom was silent.
“If Reece had been the one to live, he would’ve died from the guilt. He was softer than us; kinder, gentler—better. I lived through it all, because I could. He wouldn’t have made it, Mom.”
“Alice and Keith…they never said anything.”
“Wasn’t their secret to share; it wasn’t their shame to unburden. Would you have heard them, anyway? Would it have made you understand me better? Curse at me, rant at me, yell at me if you want, but you will leave my wife out of this. If you continue on this way, you’ll drive us away, and we’ll never come back.”
“Are you threatening me?” Her voice was as thin as a reed ready to snap.
“Sage is everything to me, Mom.”
I stared at my mother before leaving her alone with her righteousness and my confession. Seeds of bitterness didn’t grow into trees overnight, and I doubted I’d be able to fell them in day.
Maybe I should stop trying.
•••
Later that evening, Keith and I were sharing a beer in the kitchen of the Chelser ranch house. Sage was upstairs asleep, and Alice was getting ready for bed. Jules had wanted to stay for the funeral
, but I’d told her it was unnecessary, so she had hopped on a plane that morning.
“Memaw left the house and land to Sage?” Keith asked.
I nodded. “Dad knew about the change to the will. Mom shit a brick.”
“How did Wyatt react?”
“He was okay with it,” I said. “The only one who can’t wrap her head around it is Mom. She used it as an excuse to unload all her pent up anger at me. She’s pissed I left home, she’s pissed I got married really fast. She’s just pissed.”
“Can you blame her? Take a step back. Maybe she didn’t handle her emotions all that well, but can you see her points?”
“Yeah, I can, but enough already. I’m happy. Sage and I are happy. It’s like Mom doesn’t believe me or something.”
“Claire’s a complicated woman. It must be hard for her to watch her son live a life she never could’ve imagined for him.”
“But it’s my life,” I gritted. “Mine and Sage’s.”
“When you have family, it’s never really your own. You’re tied to other people, son, always will be. No matter where you live or where you go that tether is still there, and it can’t be cut no matter how sharp the shears.”
“I wish she loved me for me. I finally told her the truth—that I was supposed to be in the plane.” I wiped a hand across my face feeling bone-deep tired. “I don’t know if that will make a difference to her—I still ran.”
“You can’t expect to sort out a lifetime of hurt and misunderstandings in a few months, Kai.”
“It took two years, but I ran in a very large circle, and where did I end up? Back in the mountains. There isn’t enough distance from Monteagle, no matter where I go.”
“This is your place, and the sooner you make peace with it, all of it, then maybe you’ll begin to heal.”
“I’m healed.”
“You think you are, until someone pulls on a ratty thread and it all comes undone again. Maybe you should stay. For a little while, at least.”
Dandelion Dreams Page 16
