Kennedy
“Ms. Conrad,” Bradley says as he steps from behind the reception desk, wearing a well-tailored suit and a sneaky smile.
“Ms. Conrad? Are you losing your mind, old man?” Graham reaches out, and they shake hands.
I love the way Graham pulls me to him whenever he’s in the middle of a conversation. He wants me close, and admiration is never a bad thing to feel.
“I must have forgotten. Just as you forgot to send me an invitation to this supposed wedding.” Bradley winks at me and shakes his head, a laugh quick to follow. Bradley makes giving Graham a hard time his full-time job. Their easy banter is well practiced. They’ve had plenty of time to perfect it. Graham’s been a frequent flyer at The Plaza since he was young. Looking at the pristinely dressed clients in the lobby, I suspect my husband caused some havoc for the staff.
As Bradley grabs my bag and heads towards the elevators, Graham leans down and kisses my forehead.
“I’m so glad you surprised me today. I needed this, Ken.” We step on and the doors close behind us.
Bradley pushes the familiar floor number, and jaw slack and eyes wide, I gawk at Graham like a lunatic. “It’s our room.”
Back before Graham and I found each other again, he would frequent the city and stay here so he could catch some of my performances. I had no idea his eyes were in the audience, witnessing me lay myself bare, but when I think back on it, my heart may have always known.
When a man truly loves a woman, deep down to his marrow, the woman always knows when he’s nearby. True love is found in a skipped beat of the heart. I’ve never told him, but I’d always looked, just in case he had come back for me.
Every performance ended with applause, but in my heart, even with all the praise, something had always been missing.
“Here we are.” Bradley holds the elevator doors and we step off. “Have a good stay, and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”
My hand is tightly pressed between Graham’s fingers. He takes his hotel key from his back pocket, sliding it in the slot. As soon as the door swings open, I push my husband, my hand firmly against his chest, until the back of his knees hit the large bed. I leave him bewildered, to shut the room door.
When I turn, his eyes are raking over my entire body. His jeans are tight around his thighs, and his swelling zipper makes my mouth water. My shoes land in the corner, and I start to unbutton my blouse, but Graham is quick on his feet. He has a way of making me feel beautiful with one small, eager gesture.
His fingers make easy work of the job I had started. The soft fabric floats away from my body, tickling my feet. My fingers reach around the hem of his t-shirt, and he pulls off his hat as the shirt glides over his head.
“Keep it on,” I say as he attempts to set it on the table. My request earns me a devastating grin.
Graham’s hands grip my ass, and I wrap around his strong body. He spins, moving his back to the hotel door, and tosses me onto the bed. He’s on top of me, unbuttoning my jeans, and I’m fumbling to loosen his. It’s like we’re teenagers again, eager and desperate to feel each other on every inch of our bodies.
As if he sees the end coming, Graham’s forehead rests against mine. His hot breath against my lips and the painful rise and fall of our chests slow us down.
“Your body is perfection.” He rests back on his knees.
My legs are wide on his hips. Like it’s a sin, he takes time to peel my jeans from my body. He tosses them to the floor, and when he bends down, I turn his ball cap backwards, pulling up to kiss him. I nip his bottom lip before I lie back on the mattress. With precision, his lips find the valley of my chest, kissing along the edge of my bra. The buckle pinches in the back, and it disappears.
Our movements feel like our own brand of torture. My skin is alive, desperate to feel his warmth, but we prolong it, taking our time to savor each other. His eyes stay on me as his tongue circles each of my nipples, quickening my racing heart.
Between our bodies, I loop my fingers over his waistband, and with his help, he kicks them until they’re with mine on the floor. A mixture of kisses and hot breaths, we make out like a couple of teenagers about to make the biggest decision of our lives.
“You may not have been my first, but dammit, Ken, you are the only one who’s ever driven me mad between the sheets with a single look.” I love the way he takes care to brush my hair to the side, to really see me.
I’ve only ever been vulnerable with him. He breaks down my resistance and sees me. With sex, I could’ve easily gone the opposite direction, closed myself off, but what would that have done for me? I’ve never doubted who I am under Graham. He makes me feel undeniably worshiped.
We discard the remainder of our clothes, and I grin, happy he’s kept that damn hat on. His hair sticks out the end, and I don’t know what it is, but it drives me wild. His skin is kissed by the sun, and his shoulders flex as he slips his finger inside me, bending it until he hits the spot that has me crawling up the bed on my back.
All I see is the top of his ballcap as he dips low between my thighs. Nothing has ever turned me on more than watching him and his tongue work me over. I arch my back the second my nerves feel his soft tongue against them, playing with them, teasing me.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out, resting my hand on the top of his hat. Like a sparkler to a flame, I come alive and tug the brim, forcing him up until we are eye to eye. “Lay down.”
At my command, he rolls off and nestles into the pile of pillows behind him. With a quick kiss, I skim my lips down his taut jaw onto his neck, past his collarbone until they pause on his abs. Dammit, my husband is sexy as fuck.
“Oh, fuck this,” he hisses.
I’m tossed onto my back, staring at the ceiling as he enters me before I can question him. My senses are overwhelmed when he’s inside me. The entire world is blocked out, and it’s just the two of us. We’re limbs, lips, and a whole hell of a lot of madness entangled in white sheets.
Our bodies take over, and at their own accord, my eyes flutter shut, experiencing every sense set on fire from him. His breathing is like a melody to my ears; the taste of his sweat on my lips as I kiss his shoulder takes over my tongue; and his skin scorches my fingers.
I’m set ablaze, and like any flame, I roar until I’m released from the hold the heat has on my body. He jerks on top of me, finding his own release. The sheets are pulled over us as he falls to the mattress, his chest heaving. He turns his hat forward, and beads of sweat cover his chest. I pull myself over him until I’m straddling his lap.
Unable to bear not touching him when he looks like that beneath me, I lift the hat, giving me room to kiss him, and slide it back in its rightful place. Graham grins when I swivel my hips.
“You going to make me wear this thing all night?” He flicks the bill.
“It looks damn good on you.” I bite my lip.
“Show me.” He places the hat on my head, and it bobbles around, too big for a perfect fit.
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“If you think I’m asking you to wrap those pretty lips around my cock, then yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.” Is this guy seriously grinning at me right now?
“I’m just so tired after that good dick, Baby.” My loud giggle is trapped between our lips. Graham bucks his hips, and I fall to the mattress beside him.
His chest presses against mine, and a sly grin forms on his face. I sit forward, and he turns the bill to the back of my head. My hair tickles my chest as it cascades over my skin.
“You, right here, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” His length pushes against my thigh, and my center clenches. Jesus, he doesn’t even have to try to turn me on. “My hat looks good on you.”
I shimmy down the mattress, eager to make him feel good. Through my eyelashes, I glance up the bed to see his hands folded behind his head. He’s fully relaxed and ready for me to work him over.
I never thought I’d be a girl who enjoyed going down on her man, but when he whispers my name at the first lick, I understand the heady feeling of being in full control. I toss my hair to the side and devour him. With an easiness, I stroke him and lick his length like a damn ice cream cone until he’s in a full frenzy, toeing the sheets at the end of the bed.
Graham’s hands tangle in my hair, and a soft pull draws a satisfied moan from my mouth. “Oh shit, baby, I’m about to come.”
Instead of pulling away, I continue on my mission of pleasing my husband. A loud groan echoes through the room, and warm liquid coats my throat. I pull away from his body and grin.
“Go spit it in the bathroom,” he urges. I straighten the hat on my head, open my mouth, and smirk when he sees I’ve swallowed. “Jesus, you do realize you can’t go back to spitting my cum out ever again, right, now that you’ve done that?”
“Is that some written rule somewhere?” I stand on the bed over him and bounce on my heels, and a playful chuckle escapes him, causing a flutter in my chest.
“What’s gotten into you?” His strong hands grab my calves, stopping my assault on the mattress.
“We needed this.” My shoulders loosen, and my expression softens just gazing down at Graham. We’re still kids, and we’ve chosen to grow up faster than others our age. There’s no regret in those choices, but it’s nice to feel young and carefree with each other.
“It’s good to see you smile and hear your laugh like this.” Graham pushes on the back of my legs, and I kneel in front of him, brushing back the hair along his ears.
“It’s been hard, right?” My hand, compelled by its own desire, moves to his shoulder, rubbing the tension we share on any given day.
“Almost as hard as your nipples.” He rubs the back of his finger against the taut skin, and I yelp, surprised. His infectious laughter makes him seem five years younger, and we’re back in my bedroom, teasing each other.
“Oh, you’re so damn funny.” I huff and stand from the bed, pulling the sheet around my body. Before entering the bathroom, I glance back at Graham in his full glory, naked in the middle of the mattress, perfectly content with watching me walk away. “Order us some food. I’m starving, and you’re going to need the energy.”
I leave him with that little crumb in his mind and close the door behind me. The sheets fall to the floor, and I jump in the shower, turning the water to hot and allowing it to beat against my skin. I wash my hair, and rest under the stream, enjoying the heavy pressure on my shoulders. With wet hair and the same sheet draped over my body like a dress, I turn the light off and instantly am overrun by a familiar smell.
“Is that mac n’ cheese? You ordered me mac n’ cheese?” I ask, walking towards the table full of silver trays.
“It’s the good kind, too.” Graham lifts the lid, displaying the crispy panko crumb topping. “I also ordered chicken Caesar salad, mozzarella sticks, and chili cheese fries.”
I fork a mouthful of mac n’ cheese and moan. “I knew I loved you for a reason.”
“Because I understand your love affair with cheese is on the top of that list. Plus, I’m just prepping your body to feed two.” He’s barely able to keep the satisfaction from his voice.
I stuff my face and ignore him, hoping he’ll drop the pregnancy subject. I fucking love this man for wanting to extend our family, but with our current situation, a baby is the last thing we should bring into the mix. He allows my silence and doesn’t push it any further.
After we eat, I send a quick text to Violet to see how Ben’s doing. My phone pings with an incoming text, and I open a picture of Ben.
I flash my phone to Graham, and he laughs. “Looks like he’s having some fun.”
Ben at the arcade, his smile comparable to the giant stack of tickets gripped in his hands, lightens my heart. I drop the fork, abandon the food, and crawl into the comfort of the bed, pulling the blankets over my body.
Graham’s warmth covers my back, and his arms circle around me.
“You okay, Baby?” Graham whispers into my hair.
“I love him so much, and I just want to make sure he has everything he needs.” I shake my head, fighting the burn at the back of my eyes. “What if we’re failing him and don’t even know it, Graham? We can sit in this hotel room, and we can let it all drop away for a little while, but seeing that picture just reminded me of the responsibilities we have outside of this moment.”
“We aren’t perfect, but we are perfect for him.” Graham leans back when I turn in his arms.
“How do you know exactly what I need to hear?” I close my eyes, content in this moment, yet still scared shitless.
“We’ll deal with things as they come. Not a second sooner, okay?”
My eyes drift closed again, exhaustion taking over my heart, mind, and body. “I can’t fall asleep yet. You leave tomorrow.” I try to force myself awake, but his hand urges me back down.
“No, sleep, Baby. I’ll wake you in the morning.”
“No, you won’t.” I smile through a yawn.
I fall asleep in my most favorite way, locked in the arms of Graham. We sleep better when we are near each other, and I like to think it’s because our hearts are tethered together. One knows when the other is missing.
Graham may never understand how he holds my heart carefully in his hand. He’s never too rough with it, and he’s more than willing to surround it in his protective armor. It’s why I sleep so easily beside him. I’m safe.
*****
The New York sun shines bright through the open curtains. Graham’s cologne lingers on the sheets, but his warmth is absent. Through fluttering eyelashes, I gaze around the hotel room. There are small signs of last night and Graham’s early exit. Plates of barely touched food and half-filled wine glasses sit on the silver trays. His t-shirt dangles near the edge of the mattress. With it held close to my nose, I inhale the scent of his familiar cologne.
A smile stretches across my face, and I stretch and twist until the slumber is gone from my body. In front of the bathroom mirror, I pause, inspecting the well-fucked hair sticking up in all directions. Swollen lips and bright eyes. Seeing his ball cap on the countertop floods my mind with memories from last night. The soft fabric tickles my forehead when I put it on and laugh at the sweet note Graham left behind.
I promised to wake you, and it’s the only promise I’ll ever break.
Take my hat home. It looks better on you anyway.
Love always,
Graham
He always says I look too peaceful to bother, and every time I find the spot empty beside me, I wish I had one more second with him.
After dressing, I leave the hotel with nothing but memories. Violet already has Ben ready, knowing I wouldn’t wait too long before picking him up.
“Thank you, Aunt Violet,” Ben calls out, waving over his shoulder. He races ahead to push the elevator button.
“Ken, wait up,” Violet says, stopping me from following Ben.
“Everything okay?” I wave at Ben to hold the doors.
“What’s going on with Little Man?” She nudges her chin towards the elevator. “He snapped an attitude with Dan last night when he asked how things were going.”
I don’t want to get into this right now. How did I not see this coming? One night in the city will not make Ben’s troubles go away. Coming here may have been a big mistake. Staying at home in his safe, usual environment may’ve done a whole lot of more good than this.
“He’s just trying to find his place and adjust to Graham being gone.” I squeeze Violet’s hand, reassuring her, even though I don’t believe my own words.
The drive back to Connecticut is oddly quiet. Nine-year-old boys aren’t known for their excellent conversation skills, but can’t he give me a little something? Tell me what he did with Violet and Dan? Did he have fun and eat too much junk food? These are all things I need to know.
As soon as we pull in the driveaway a little after noon, Ben bolts out of the car and runs towards the house.
“Are you forgetting something?” My question puts cement on his feet, and he turns to see me pointing at the open passenger door.
“Sorry,” he grumbles. His shoulders are slumped, and I think his lungs will burst with how heavy they’re heaving in his chest.
“Ben...” I call out, and at the sound of my soft, motherly voice, he runs inside. I follow him into the kitchen and find him with a bottle of water to his lips.
“Why did you guys even adopt me?” The plastic crinkles as the bottle hits the counter, and it falls to the floor. He walks towards the back door.
Fix this for him. Make him understand. “We love you, you know that.”
“If you love me so much, then why isn’t Dad here?” Ben’s hand rests on the doorknob, waiting for the perfect moment to escape. My heart crumbles to the point of being unrecognizable when I see the hurt and fear in his eyes. “It’s like being back at the orphanage again. I’m alone.”
There it is. The crack in my heart that formed the minute I saw him in the hospital bed after the fire, the one that proves the three of us were a family way before the court said so. Somehow, this boy who doesn’t share a single strand of my DNA is everything to me.
“You are not alone, Ben. Your dad and I—” My words are cut off by his small body crashing into my waist. With a chest full of unshed tears, we fall to the floor, together, like everything else we do.
We’re a team.
“I know you both love me, Mom.” Tears flood his eyes, and he widens them to stop them from drowning his cheeks.
“Am I not doing enough for you?” I brush back his hair, resting my lips against his head, begging for some miracle to sweep over us and make everything a little bit easier for him.
Parents are fixers. We patch scrapes and kiss away fears. We scare monsters out from under beds and assure our children they’ll never need for anything. I can’t do that for him. His fears and insecurities with this family are valid.
As if a vial of confidence is shot into Ben’s arm, he rolls his shoulders back against me and stands. He’s not the boy in the hospital bed anymore. He doesn’t accept everything Graham and I say as gospel because he’s been taught to stand up for himself, to hold tight to his convictions. He’s everything in this moment I’ve wished for him. I just never thought I’d be on the other end of them, sitting on trial for loving him in the only way we know how.
“Why don’t you have a husband who’s around?” Ben turns his back and swings open the door. The handle bounces off the dry wall and slams shut from the force.
Do I run after him? Or do I give him a minute to cool down?
I sit down at the island, resting my eyes. Even closed, tears manage to escape, rolling down my cheeks and landing on the marble countertop. The more I think, the more rapidly they flow. My stomach churns, and I stand, racing to the garbage can, ridding my body of every last bit of food I’ve eaten in the last twenty-four hours. How can this be happening? Everything seemed so right and okay, and suddenly I’m in a downward spiral with no end in sight.
On shaky legs, I walk to the backdoor and open it. “Ben,” I scream, desperate to look my son in the eyes and tell him all the rocky ground under him will smooth out, making it safe to walk around.
There’s no answer.
Maybe he went to Rico’s apartment. Sometimes he goes there to hang out, but I didn’t see Rico’s car in the driveway. Not like Ben couldn’t find the hidden key if he really wanted to.
I knock on the locked door. All the lights are out, and there’s no movement.
Racing down the steps, I circle to the front yard and find it as empty as Rico’s apartment. “Where did you go, Ben?” I whisper, racing into the house.
My rational mind tells me he’s inside, but the mom in me starts to panic. My head is spinning, and I rub the sweat from my forehead. Dammit, I think I’m going to be sick again. I run into the bathroom, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet, and heave my empty stomach.
“Ben,” I shout, rubbing the back of my hand over my mouth.
I open every door, search every closet, nook, and cranny, but come up empty handed. Frantic, I race down the steps and search for my phone.
“You okay?” Rico’s voice startles me, and I spin, crossing my fingers Ben’s beside him.
My heart sinks when I find Rico alone. Everything is going to be okay. He’s around here somewhere. It has to be okay.
“Kennedy, you look like you’re going to be sick.” He ushers me to one of the stools. “Sit down.”
“I can’t sit down.” I push him. “I can’t find Ben. He was mad at me, and now I can’t find him.”
I feel like one of those moms in the store who turns her back for a single second and can’t get her eyes on her son. They’re always hiding in the clothes rack, but for a moment, the mom believes he’s been taken from her for good, never to be seen again.
“He’s around here somewhere.”
“No, you don’t understand.” My hands tremble as I try to stay calm. “He was so upset.”
Rico rubs my back with soothing circles. I don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. His touch is making me more nervous than anything. “The kid’s just going through some things. Whatever he said, you know he didn’t mean it.”
“What do we need to do? We have to find him.” I stand, looking to Rico for guidance. I don’t think I could find my way out of a paper bag right now. My thoughts are bouncing in every direction, and I can’t focus on one thing without everything going blurry.
“Let’s walk the neighborhood, Kennedy. We’ll find him. He probably just needed a minute to cool down.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I shake the worry from my mind.
Rico and I stand on opposite sides of the road, calling out Ben’s name. He smiles whenever I glance at him, but as more time passes and Ben is nowhere to be seen, I see the sad look creep into his eyes.
It’s been three hours since I last saw Ben. There’s no sign of him anywhere, and if I’d thought my fears had hit a peak, I was wrong.
I swallow the lump in my throat and say words no parent should ever have to say. “He’s missing, right? I mean, we should’ve found him by now.” My hand covers my heart, desperate to erase the feeling of loss. It’s all slipping through my fingers.
“I’m going to call the police.” Rico runs inside, leaving me in the front yard. My head jerks from side to side, scanning every inch of our street. The desperation is as heavy as a thousand bricks on my heart, the weight crushing me.
How am I going to explain this to Graham? How do I tell him our son is missing? I will never be able to live with myself if we don’t find Ben. He’s my purpose, and even thinking for a second he is out there alone breaks what little energy I have left in me. I crumble to the front lawn and sob, praying he’ll walk around the hedges.
A police car rolls in some time after, and there’s still no sign of Ben.
So much for those prayers.
They’ve failed me just as much as I’ve failed Ben.