CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Caitlyn
I didn’t sleep well because I was so anxious and worried about what KP was about to face. He tossed, turned, and cried out most of the night, battling his fears in his dreams. For a man with such a strong personality, seen by most as the epitome of power, he was sad and small that night. I just wanted to hold him and try to make this easier on him.
I knew how hard it all was. Around six in the morning, he got the phone call we had been dreading. Wenton’s time was near.
When we arrived at the hospital, Wenton looked small and sickly against the machines and the wires, but still very much alive. It was like he was waiting for us.
“Hey, Wenton.”
He smiled and lifted a hand, but didn’t have the strength for much else.
“I’m sorry I have to leave you,” he said to KP.
KP took his hand. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, but I’m also jealous that you get to see heaven.”
“It’ll be really beautiful, right?”
Tears that KP had fought back trickled down his face. “Yeah. You’ll get to bounce on clouds and slide down rainbows.”
I almost couldn’t take it as I watched them and the love they shared with one another. They were the world to each other. Glancing at the machines above Wenton’s bed, I could see that his heart was struggling to beat. There was a faint line that pulsed, but it seemed tinier than it should have been.
His painting!
Yesterday, I’d asked Robert to bring Wenton’s painting and it was still in the trunk.
“You know, Wenton, I never showed you your painting. It turned out great. Would you like to see it?”
A smile appeared. Faded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll be right back.”
As I left, I heard KP offering to read to him, and when I got back, they were still at it. KP was bringing the story of Robin Hood to life with animated voices and a gripping narrative. He’d made a great narrator.
“It’s my favorite,” Wenton said weakly. “Stealing from rich. Give to poor. I want all my money to go to charity.” He looked at his brother. “Make sure.”
The two of them together was so beautiful, I took my phone out and snapped a picture. That was true, honest and beautiful love.
I sent Wenton a text. LOVE = an adoring look.
I heard the ding, and Wenton slowly reached for his phone. He saw the picture and smiled his gorgeous smile.
“There’s only one more picture left in… the… hunt.” He was fading as he spoke.
KP watched Wenton struggle to speak, his Adam’s apple bobbing over and over.
“It’s okay, buddy, I fell in love. I did it. Because of you, I got to meet and fall in love with Caitlyn,” KP said as he smoothed his hands over Wenton’s head, bringing him in closer.
“Well, then why don’t you marry her?” Wenton asked in a childlike manner.
KP licked his lips. “Maybe someday.”
Wenton rolled his eyes. “Well, how’s she gonna marry you if you don’t ask her?”
“Do you think I should ask her now?” KP asked.
Wenton smiled and slowly nodded. My heart was pounding in my chest.
“Like get on my knee?” KP whispered just loud enough for me to hear. Wenton nodded, the smile still playing at his mouth.
KP eyed me, and I smiled before walking over to them, planting both hands on my hips.
“Well?” I encouraged.
Panic flared in KP’s eyes. “I don’t have a ring or anything.”
Wenton pointed at a can of tomato juice. “Use the ringy thing on this,” he said in a shaky, graveled tone.
KP fiddled with the tab until it came off the can and knelt down on one knee.
“Will you, Caitlyn Prince Slayer Ashcroft, please marry me?”
Where he had been nervous just a moment before, he didn’t look nervous now. Instead, he looked very peaceful. Sure.
“Yes,” I said gently as I pulled him up from his knees and scooped him into an embrace. He put the tab on my finger and Wenton snapped a photo with his phone.
“You have to kiss,” he scolded.
So KP and I kissed as he took one more picture. It was all the effort he could muster as he dropped the phone on the bed and lay back down.
“Okay, buddy, it’s done. The hunt is finished, and it’s been a lot of fun. Thank you for making it soo…” KP swallowed hard, unable to finish.
“Oh, my gosh…so fun,” I interjected trying to keep the mood light.
“You’re not done yet,” Wenton added, speaking with his eyes closed. “My last quest is a two partner.” His eyes fluttered back open again. “You have to end the quest and start a new one, where it all began.”
“The lake?” KP asked.
“Of course,” Wenton said, fading.
“Who am I starting the scavenger hunt for?” KP asked, nearly panicked. He was out of time.
“You’ll find out,” was all Wenton offered. “Can you read to me some more?”
“Don’t you want to see your painting, Wenton?”
“Yeah,” his eyes opened again, “I want to see it.”
I picked it up and turned it around. He smiled immediately.
“I’m a handsome devil. Poor KP. I got all the good looks in the family.”
KP and I stared at him, waiting for his chest to rise after the words. It didn’t. And soon, the little line on the monitor didn’t either.
Tears flooded out of me as I watched KP mourn the loss of his little brother. Doctors and nurses rushed in, then slowly walked out, only noting the time of death. Resuscitation wasn’t possible and would have only been cruel.
When we were alone again, I stroked KP’s hair as he held his brother for the last time. When the door opened behind me, I didn’t even bother to turn around to see who it was.
“Kembrough?”
KP stiffened under my hand, and very slowly turned toward the door.
Two stern-looking but impeccably dressed people stood just inside the door. I knew right away that they were KP and Wenton’s parents. The resemblance was remarkable. I remembered the doctor saying he’d called them yesterday. Took them long enough to appear.
KP stood and faced them. “You’re too late.”
His mother’s eyes widened. “Are the doctors going to do anything?”
His mom was silent as she just stared at Wenton.
“They should take the body then,” the father interjected.
“Wouldn’t you like to say goodbye first?” I asked, then wished I hadn’t as two cold sets of eyes turned on me.
“And who is this?” his mother asked.
KP wrapped an arm around me. “This Caitlyn Ashcroft. My fiancée.”
I twisted the tomato juice tab around my finger. He had asked. I had answered. But were we both doing so for his little brother? It was too much to think about so I just nodded. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry we had to meet today. Wenton was so beautiful. We’re going to miss him…” I couldn’t continue, my tears were choking me.
Finally, the mother approached Wenton’s body and took his hand. “He’s so cold,” was all she could say before she broke down.
KP’s father joined her and patted her arm. “The doctors should probably come take care of this.”
“I’ll let you two have some time with him,” KP said as headed from the room, pulling me behind him. He didn’t stop until we were in some conference room and the door was firmly shut behind us.
“I can’t be here for this. I can’t watch them. Not one day in their lives did they ever love him the way they should have,” he nearly screamed, his hands pulling at his hair.
I pulled his hands down and wrapped my arms around him. “They didn’t love you the way they should have either.”
It was a hard thing to watch such a big powerful man cry so helplessly.
“Wenton’s gone, and there’s not much we can do here right now. Let’s get out of here. Where do you think Wenton would want to be right now?” I asked, hoping a change in scenery would help him.
He wiped his face with his shirt. “Ice cream. If he just died and went to heaven, he would want ice cream.”
“Let’s go get ice cream then.”
We told the nurses we were leaving and took the convertible to a mom-and-pop ice cream shop, and I listened as KP reminisced about Wenton’s life.
A week later, we went to Wenton’s funeral at a big, ornate church with hundreds of people in attendance. KP was livid.
“Where were all of these people when he was locked away alone?” KP fumed.
I rubbed his arm. “I know.”
“No one came to visit him.” KP was beside himself.
“Would he have wanted them to? They seem like a really uptight bunch,” I smiled, putting on a prune-ish-looking face.
It got a little laugh out of him.
“Sorry, your son died,” I acted in a fake British accent, “We’ll miss little Walter.” I was hoping he’d play along.
“Wenton,” he said in a dry monotone.
“Yes, that’s right,” I continued. “William.”
He smiled and pulled me against his chest.
“Who needs them,” I added.
“That’s who needs them,” he said as he kissed my forehead.
The funeral was melancholy and sad. His urn was displayed with the portrait I had painted and a few pictures of Wenton as a child. None of the photographs were of the marvelous adult I had come to love, but his painting was beautiful and had captured the spirit of his heart.
People offered their condolences, and everything seemed stuffy and stilted. KP introduced me as his fiancée, and it went over pretty much as I thought it would, most were too shocked to speak. I wasn’t a famous actress nor was I one of their inner circle, so I had to be an interloper or a gold digger. Instant hatred from all. Or at least that’s how my warped mind saw it.
We didn’t really revisit the fiancée thing too much. It was how KP introduced me because it gave me some footing with the tough crowd but we hadn’t really discussed the truth of such a title. I was happy to let it ride for a while; I think KP felt the same.
In between shaking people’s hands, his parents were trying to make an effort, and I could see them reaching out to me, asking questions about my work at the art center and school. KP smiled when he told his parents that I would be working with him starting next month. He wasn’t sure how I was going to manage school and an animation career, but he knew I was talented enough to make it work somehow. They seemed genuinely interested in my prospects as an animator of a hip new series for teens. I pulled KP aside as soon as I had the chance.
“A what?” I playfully glared at him.
“I forgot to tell you, I sold your series. You start development next month. Hope you don’t mind, you’re working for me now.” KP backed away a little bit.
“You stole it!” I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt.
“You’ll get paid, in fact, my lawyer should be contacting you soon,” KP said, still inching away from me, just in case.
“KP!” I was both thrilled and so pissed off, the monster!
“Don’t get mad, honey. Soon, what’s mine is yours, and yours is mine, so I didn’t really steal it, steal it. I borrowed it.” He smiled as the people started to gather for Wenton’s eulogy.
“And about that—”
“Gotta go give a speech, catch ya on the flipside,” he said as he darted down the aisle toward the pulpit.
The banter felt good, it was what we needed, or both of us would be a sobbing mess. His eulogy was beautiful, tasteful, and perfect. I sat alone, crying my eyes out. One of KP’s friends, at least I assumed he was a friend, sat beside me and handed me a tissue.
“Here, Caitlyn. I’m Lucas.”
“Thanks,” I said as I wiped my eyes.
KP spoke of the great love Wenton had for everything and how he hoped we’d all find that love in our hearts. He then shared that because of that love he bore for Wenton, he would keep Wenton’s urn and not inter it into the family plot. Wenton would want to be a part of something larger than a small space in the ground. There were some sounds of gasping and surprise around the room, but generally, I think everyone attending understood.
When KP was done, a choir began to sing. I was still a complete wreck. I hoped that KP would come back, but he was talking to people who had stopped him as he walked off the stage.
“You don’t know me, but I know you,” Lucas said, “and I just wanted to say that KP loves you. I’ve never seen him love anyone in his whole life, but I know for a fact that he adores you. I just thought you might want to hear it from one of his friends.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.
A beautiful woman joined him, and he introduced her as Alicia, his girlfriend. Wow, KP had friends. In the midst of things that seemed so wrong, with the death of Wenton and the cold stares from people I hardly knew, things also felt perfectly right.