Now the entire world saw my heart. Saw my debt. Saw my plan. Saw my secrets.
“I'm not what you say I am!”
“Oh honey, but you are,” she oozed viciously. “Why don't you own up to it?”
Escort?
I surveyed the serious faces that eyed me curiously, as if they were seriously considering the possibility. I didn't know what to say. I certainly was not expecting that kind of bombshell.
I was embarrassed, soooooo embarrassed, and I didn't even know the proper protocol on how to dismiss myself. All I could do was run out of the room before I broke down and cried buckets of tears in front of them all.
“Now Brittany was that necessary?” was the last thing I heard as I escaped the loud commotion of the growing family circus.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Atticus
"I'm leaving. I can't be here." She confessed her feelings in hushed tones. I expected her to lash out, to scream at the top of her lungs at the ridiculous accusation. But she was so quiet. The weight of the world was on her shoulders, a position I realized, (from her confession to me this weekend), that she was familiar with.
My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces seeing her emerald eyes embroiled in pain. I had caused that pain. I had fucked everything up. I should have kept her away from my evil sister and her even wickeder best friend, the woman who shared my deepest secret and regret.
"Kate, please. Please stay. I'm so sorry. I don't know how this got out."
Her head collapsed into her frail hands, the same busy hands that kept her up at night and woke her up at dawn to make something of her life. They were hands I wanted to hold now, to protect from this cruel, cruel world.
They now remained very still as if steadying her entire life. I wanted to be that anchor for her now; I never realized it until this weekend. Sure, she was an inspiration, an intense ray of might for my artist soul.
She had a gorgeous body, curves to kill, eyes of a tiger, the face of an angel, lips of satin and a kiss to make a man grow mad, but there was deepness to her I never realized or knew until she shared her own scars with me.
It was as if the pain, were in some way a door to my locked heart. It wasn't that I wanted to see anyone in pain, but living in this rich Southern social bubble, people masked their shadows with beautiful art encased in the latest fashions, the shiniest most expensive cars, the most elaborate parties to rival F. Scott Fitzgerald himself.
She walked into my world and had a light of innocence and strong will that had purpose beyond this carnal reality. She had so much what Granddaddy called “umph,” which is why he liked her so much.
Which is why I love her so much.
Love.
Love knows when it's love even after days. This isn't like. This isn't a game, an experiment anymore. When that door opened in my heart, when something became blazingly obvious that I had to have it in my life, that I needed it, well, the genes of my Granddaddy kicked in and there was no stopping me. Come flood, high wind, hail, blizzard, fire and brimstone, I'd get it. I'd have it.
Because that's what we Branches do.
Our roots run deep to withstand the tests. Now it was time to clean up shop and end this circus.
"I don't know how it works leaving here, the Branch Estate. Obviously I don't have a car, and I can't drive a helicopter."
I hated to break it to her but with the weather conditions, so cloudy and stormy, it wasn't going to be an option.
"But I'm not stupid. I know it’s not exactly the prime time to fly with this weather. Can someone just please drive me back ho- I mean to the city? I'll pay whomever. I just can't be here."
"You don't need to pay anyone anything! I wish you would stay, Kate."
She shook her head with more emotion. Fire ran down my sternum. Pure anger. That witch deserved major punishment in hell for what she did with that gossip column.
A part of my stomach turned realizing perhaps I deserved a place as well. I shook my head, setting my eyes like flint.
"Our estate is tens of thousands of feet. You can stay in the guest quarters if you would like. No one will bother you. No one. Not even me." I added that last part just to assure her I’d leave her alone if she wanted.
"Oh... Happy fucking Easter. I'm alone again on a holiday." Her eyes welled up in buckets of tears. My heart ripped even more. I just couldn’t seem to find the right words to say at the moment.
“You know, just when I thought I was fitting in with a family, you know, aside from your bitchy—and I am sorry Atticus but there is no other way to label your sister but bitchy,” she spat. “Just when I felt what it was like to be in a Hallmark movie, playing games with others in a family where everyone actually liked each other… Singing by the fire, the grand picturesque dining room table filled with laughter and stories by your grandfather from living in the glory days of the fiftys. I mean, he has stories of Henry Ford—I mean, it—it’s a dream! A dream! I should have known it was too good to be true.”
She bit her lip to control her sorrow. “I should have pinched myself, slapped myself back into reality. Reminded myself that this was just a game. An act. You know, Lacey and I made plans, you know? She opened up to me about wanting to come into the city and try to be a little bit more independent. She said she trusted me and wanted me to come with her to New York to start on her modeling portfolio. Do you know how good it felt? To feel like I inspired someone out of her shell? Do you know how much I was looking forward to that? And now that’s all gone!"
I couldn't help it. I grabbed the back of her neck almost with too much force. I had to kiss her. I had to take all the pain away. I had to show her this was real. I explored her tongue with great might and intent, driven to communicate what words couldn’t say. She fought against me with every ounce of might in her before surrendering, melting, just a tad.
Could I bring down her walls?
Her eager firm push against me proved otherwise.
"This isn’t fixable with a kiss! You don't get it! I've worked hard for every single damn thing in my life, and now it's fucked up! I am nobody's whore! No one’s!” She roared. “I'm no one’s toy, no one’s girl! I don't need a man! I don't need your money! I don't need a family! I will make my own luck!”
She stepped back, leveraging the distance between us to look me square in the eyes. “One thing you don't know about me, Atticus: I'm determined. Alright? You said you admired that about me. Well, it's a trait of being a Scorpio. And I'm a Scorpio through and through. But one thing about we scorpions, you don't fuck with us. We don't move on easily. In fact, you're lucky if we ever do. But if you treat us right, we're loyal for life, the best of friends, and the best of lovers!"
She grabbed her purse, her beloved sketchbook, and her phone.
"If I have to walk back to Charlestown, I will! But this?! I will make this happen.” She held her sketchbook up, shaking it. “I don't care about this pretentiously elitist world anymore. I've made up my mind about you people! I'm leaving. You can't hurt a heart that doesn't care anymore."
She stormed out of the kitchen with a mission to find the closet door leading to an outside. She didn't even have a jacket on! I marched after her, making a beeline through the sitting room. A dark figure startled my peripheral vision; granddaddy with a scotch in his hand.
I sighed and stopped for a bit. "How much did you hear of that conversation?"
It would kill me if he knew I had made up this scheme just for him.
"Enough. If you don't go after her, son. You better believe, I sure will. You need to make all this right, and I mean now. It's unbecoming of a gentleman to cause so much distress in a lady." He spoke calmly, yet with a strict edge of certainty. I’d messed up, and he’d known it as strongly as I.
Chest pains pounded my heart and I fought to breathe. Am I old enough for a heart attack? "Are you okay, granddaddy? With the cancer making you weak—” My hand went out to him feet away.
"Your concern should be her." His slow aut
horitative fatherly twang was chilling. “You brought her into this family, into this home. You make sure she stays welcome. Regardless of feeble rumors.”
I picked up speed running after Kate. She had turned the corner towards the north of our estate and turned elsewhere.
"Kate! Kate!" It was indecent for a Branch gentlemen to yell after or at a lady, but it was the only way to find her.
"Kate!" I never thought I'd curse the size of my estate.
"There you are... I've been looking for you."
Clarissa’s touch against my chest was precisely like a slithering snake, deceptive, menacing and calculating, encircling its prey like a wild python.
As if she were a ghost, I pushed past her, looking beyond her in search for Kate. My eyes squinted far out the windows to see if her brunette hair was bouncing with purpose in the snow. Like a skilled hunter I scanned the outside scene for her. No sign yet.
"Looking for something?" Clarissa took a step in front of me, keeping me from my view. Her voice purred like a well-practiced Cheshire cat with the skill of Delilah tempting Goliath. She wasn't going to go cut off my strength; I wouldn't let her.
"Clarissa, move please. You're the last person on earth—the entire galaxy —that I want to see now or never."
"Pretty strong words to say, don't you think? Especially for someone your heart knows so well." She batted her blue eyes like the well-practiced aristocrat she was and who had practiced in charm school.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. Every second wasted with her was a moment lost that I desperately needed to keep Kate here, to show her I cared.
She lifted up her chin, her perfectly painted face covered with her cosmetic armor. To the outside she looked like a polished ten. But all I saw when I looked at her was rot inside. She was a shiny apple, rotten to the core, and she didn't hold a candle to Kate.
"I know what you're doing, Clarissa. You smell blood. You're like a bull shark you know that?"
"What on earth are you talking about, now Atticus?" She rested her hand on my shoulder and laughed like I had cracked the most charming joke. Her eyes sparkled like she had saved up every ounce of her shine all year for this very moment.
I held my breath wanting to rip her apart with my words. That's when I saw the figure outside the window.
Kate.
Her pink mouth hung open, as she clutched her arms in the cold. I couldn't see the tears but from her head shaking so precisely, I knew it was the last straw.
She turned her face ahead and kept walking.
"What?" Clarissa asked as if I were staring at an annoying fly. She leisurely turned her head as if she had all the time in the world to be a spectator.
Lacey's golden locks bounced in the snow as she covered Kate's arms with a jacket. She covered her with a protective arm, which just made things so much worse.
I took a step forward, readying myself to go after her.
"Leave it alone, Atticus."
"Clarissa,” I warned. “Please step aside."
"Now don't make a scene, Atticus. My parents can see everything behind us in the sunroom where everyone’s sipping tea. And so can your cousins. They think we're having a friendly conversation, now."
"That's the thing with this family, friends, the entire circle. I'm tired of the act."
"What act? You're acting so strange you know."
"I need to go."
I side-stepped to the side of her but she met me like a calculated chess player.
"Let her go. She's not one of us."
"What you did was wrong."
"We belong together. Why don't you face the facts?"
"You're really crazy. Delusional. And should be locked away."
She tsked her tongue.
"Aw, now Atticus. That's not a gentlemanly thing for a man to say to his wife. Words are words. What would your mother think?"
Wife. Ugh! When would she let that go?
I blew out so much breath, I could have caused a hurricane with my fury. I boiled with anger and my hands finally flew out to the sides of me whipping through my hair.
That was it. Talk was over. My shoulder brushed against hers as I exited the room viciously declaring, "We were kids, Clarissa. Kids in a barn playing a role for our mothers and my crazy Pride and Prejudice movie-obsessed twin cousins. It was a play! Just words."
I said everything with a hint of brisk menace out as I opened the front door. Her determined heels clanked across the hardwood floor. Her hand grabbed my arm tightly as the door opened.
"I'll tell the whole world our secret if you leave. Don't test me Atticus Raymond Branch III."
For a second I froze, not from terror or fright but because of pure shock that this animal would stoop so low. The word formed in my larynx, a type of word that was frowned upon by my family.
"You are the most evil bitch I've ever met." I shook myself from her arm like one loosens themselves from a nasty dog bite and I ran out the door.
"Thank you," she called out as if I flattered her. "Guess you just made your own bed, Atticus."
I was tired of pretending, tired of the careful calculated appearances to appease all of South Carolina.
There in the towncar blowing up snow down our long driveway was the woman who mattered, who came crashing into my world, like a hummingbird, fast, intense, yet beautiful.
And I was terrified to death I just broke her buzzing song wings.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kate
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Kate? I don’t mind.” Her kind words tasted like honey to my wounded sad soul.
My eyes were tired of feeling weak, sore and puffy from all my tears. It had been such a big long weekend filled with so much intensity. There were many contrasting emotions, from intense highs to devastating lows.
“As much as I really appreciate it, I think I need to be alone. I’m…truly sorry that you had to come along all this way just for me.”
“No, don’t apologize at all. I am the one who is truly sorry. Gosh, my sister and Clarissa…” She blew out frustrated air.
“This will blow over, I promise. I really like you, Kate. Promise you’ll give my brother another chance? Please don’t be mad at him. It’s killing him that this happened. You have to believe me when I say this.”
Then why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he come after me?
Please don’t be mad at him.
I paced the hallways over and over dwelling these very specific thoughts. And even though I sent Lacey back home hours ago, I couldn’t be left alone with my thoughts and anger.
I dialed Claire.
“Kate, oh my God, I—”
“Let’s go out for margaritas. Now.”
Sometime in the late morning, early afternoon the next day….
A chime sang. It was like an etheric call, and I lay there cozily with the blankets wrapped around me safe from worries, safe from all cares. Cozy as kept. Until I heard it again. And again. And again…
Fuck.
That really was the doorbell. I wasn’t dreaming anymore.
My weak limbs hit the wood floor. Oh God, I was still dizzy from those five, six - maybe seven? – margaritas. Who was counting anymore? Claire was still asleep. I had asked her to stayed over.
I think.
Yes, I remember tears, lots of them and her staying.
I reached for the robe and trotted down the two flights of stairs like a zombie.
Who the fuck was it? It better not be a reporter or some stupid media person.
I looked through the peephole.
Oh my goodness, great King of Scotts!
It was Atticus Branch the first looking all regal. Dressed in a nice pinstripe suit, he looked around the street thoughtfully.
The door creaked as I opened it.
“Um, Hi! Mr. Branch. Hi.” I quickly ran my hair over my shoulder, trying to smooth out the craziness. I hadn’t even checked my own reflection. Please God don’t let me look like a crazy raccoon mess! The
crazy I-was-out-at-a-club-until-4am-and-took-the-walk-of-shame-home look wasn’t becoming for this occasion. “Can I…may I help you?”
“Yes. May I come in please, young lady?”
My stomach dropped to my toes. I didn’t feel so great.
“I’ve come to chat with you, Kate.” His gentle tone was reassuring, with a slightly pleading tone to it.
“Oh, of course. Please come in.” I motioned with my hand and stepped out of his way to usher him in. Once he was inside, I shut the door gently.
“Um, where would you like to talk?”
“How about some coffee?”
I nodded thinking it was a very good idea seeing how I was still feeling like I was a sea ship.
He surveyed the home as we walked into the kitchen and I poured water into the tea kettle for the coffee press.
“You know, I had purchased this home for Mellie.”
“Mellie?”
“My wife. She loved coming into the city for the orchestra and plays. And of course the shopping.” Hearing of him talking of his love and imagining him with her warmed my heart. “She’s gone now, of course. Been gone for about ten years. Near the time when we lost our son, daughter in law, and grandson in the plane crash. I tell people all the time that stress is a killer. So is worry. I believe she died of a broken heart holding so much of that worry in at night and every day. It killed her, the sadness, and heartache.”
“My goodness. I’m so sorry. Truly.”
“As am I. But I say this to say life’s a very precious thing. A lot of things can happen to us. A lot of pressure can be found in this life, but there’s one thing you have to guard, and that’s your heart.”
The tea kettle cried out. I poured water into the coffee press and stirred the coffee grounds.
“What’s transpired in the press has been terrible, and as head of this family, I want to apologize for my Granddaughter’s actions with such a private book. I thought my Grandson would have been here by now, doing the very same thing, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
That just made things worse. Ugh. Yeah, exactly. Where was Atticus? I shook my head to dislodge my thoughts of him.
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