Chapter 32
Back at home, gripping a plastic red gun, Raven aimed it at the screen of a classic arcade game. She shot bandits that popped from behind boxes and barrels of a Wild West simulation. Smacking Liam with her hip, she took the kills on his side, too. A cowboy appeared, pointing a celebratory bottle of whiskey at her side of the screen. She put the gun in the case and danced a jig around the loser.
“Remind me not to play with you anymore.” Liam placed his gun in the holster. “Even though I just beat your ass at Pacman and didn’t gloat.”
“Should have seized the opportunity.” She began to robot dance.
“I have a confession to make.” Estella stood at archway of the room.
From the worry etched on Estella’s face, Raven straightened up. They took a seat on the couch. Gone was the rosiness in Estella’s cheeks as she’d shown them photos of her and Royael at a pageant the past weekend.
“It’s not my story to tell, really …” Estella twisted her diamond ring.
“It’s okay, Nana, go ahead,” Liam encouraged with a head nod.
“I came before the Santa Monica hotel opening because I wanted to spend time with my great grandchild. Then I got here and really enjoyed myself; hence, forgetting my situation.” Estella looked back and forth, eyes glistening. “I must admit that I also had an agenda. I wanted Elise to come clean with a secret that would surely bring you all together, which doesn’t matter now.” Her mouth quavered as she smiled. “Anyhow, both of you deserve the truth. Elise didn’t deceive you, Raven, because you don't have an affluent background. That most certainly wouldn’t be a reason to keep you apart. As a matter of fact, Pierre was a toe from living off the streets when we met. He was pulling his hair out regarding his fragile newspaper company and—”
“Yes, Nana.” Liam sighed.
“Well, the two of you being together would ruin the Delacroix—gaudy—image. Elise wanted to make sure nobody knew that Liam was not Jonathan’s son …” Estella told the story of her daughter and Zane Anderson.
“Wow!” Raven said.
Liam’s lips were set in a line.
Raven wondered how he felt, learning Zane Anderson was his father. The uncertainty of not having a father was second nature to her. It seemed just yesterday that they were asking Alvin—Charlene’s childhood friend—if he was her father. But Jonathan had always been Liam’s father. Elise sure did tangle a web of lies, using Jonathan as my father and Liam’s …
“Estella, tomorrow morning, have your bags ready. The jet will be taking you back to France, or wherever it is you want to go.” His emotions turned off as readily as the flick of a light switch.
Mouth agape, Estella watched as he walked out.
“Let me talk to him.” Raven patted her shoulder, feeling her pain. She hurried down the hall and out the front door.
Crickets chirped on a warm summer night. Stopping dead in her tracks, she watched him straddle a blue Ducati. In an instant, she became a teen again. He held out an extra helmet. She took it and got on the back of the bike, embraced his muscular waist, and considered postponing the talk. He wouldn’t discard Estella if she could help it. Elise had instilled awful values in him as a child, always making it easy to run away from pain. Except, he couldn’t hide from the truth. The secret hadn’t been his grandmother’s fault, but it sucked to be the messenger sometimes.
***
The next morning, Liam crept out of bed to have a heart-to-heart with Nana. The Ducati ride had cleared his mind. Having his love near helped him see life through a new lens.
He needed to have a chat with Raven when she woke. In his joy to find out that she wasn’t his sister, he didn’t consider what that meant for her. Nana’s confession had brought that to his attention. He remembered the day Charlene said that a truck driver had raped her. Now, he needed to comfort her.
He got dressed in the bathroom, and with one last look of raven hair and a petite frame, he walked across the bridge. A sunbeam lit the glossy wood floors from the cracked door. He knocked lightly. When she said, “Come in,” he did, allowing his eyes to adjust. At the corner of the house, sunlight came from two glass walls. The linen was in a neat pile on the floor, and her knickknacks had already been stored. She repositioned piles of luggage.
“Nana, you can stay the rest of summer until Royael starts school.”
Putting a diamond necklace into her jewelry armory, she didn’t look up. “No, thank you.”
“Nana.” Liam sighed as she padded into the walk-in closet. He heard sniffling and rustling.
“You don’t have to call me ‘Nana,’ not anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I was angry last night. I’m a Junior to a man who’s not my father!” He took one hard fist to his chest, almost ready to cry as she came out of the closet with tear-filled eyes. “Mom never did call me Jonathan Junior, now I see why Liam stuck. I should change my name to Zane Junior. Damn, that doesn’t even sound right.”
“No, Liam.” Estella patted her eyes with a silk hankie and moved closer to him. “You’re not just a Junior, and you’re not just Elise’s child or a legacy or a Delacroix. You’re a successful man, a father, a tad superficial when it comes to those sports cars, but all things considered, you’re a darn good man!”
They hugged. When she pulled away, she said, “I guess I’ll let you still call me Nana.”
“Thanks. I’ll help you put this village worth of luggage back into the closet.”
“I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my petit protégé. I’ll return next summer, and maybe Royael will visit me in Paris. You and Raven are always welcome.”
Liam nodded. For the first time in his life, he would miss her—all due to Raven. He remembered their conversation a year before. Estella had attempted to profess the truth, even then. That would have been an extra year with his child and Raven. Ever since he moved back to North Carolina to attend Brinton Prep for high school, he’d harbored negative feelings toward her. What would I’ve done if Raven wasn’t home when Estella came a few months ago? Would I have let her stay or spent time with her? He knew the answer was no.
“I have one last question for you.”
“Yes?” Liam took a seat at the edge of the bed.
“Why in the world was Camille at the grand opening? She never comes to events, not even when her father received a Delacroix’s prestige award. You don’t still have feelings for her, do you?”
To Liam, it was funny how affluent people settled for others in their class even though they hated each other. He’d given her a promotional invitation because she was at his office when he received the final prints. He hadn’t thought Camille would come or blow up his phone so much. She was Mr. Kerr’s daughter, a member of the Delacroix board, but had never attended a grand opening.
“I don’t know why she won’t get the picture. Looking through my office for my home address when we’ve never been serious. She’s nothing like Raven; I have no feelings for her. We were always about just having fun.”
***
Back in the master bedroom, Raven rolled over and pouted. Aw, man, did Liam go to work? He’d taken off a lot this summer—a trait that a legacy need not possess.
“Legacy.” Raven chuckled and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She walked down the hallway, wanting to apologize to Estella, since she hadn’t talked with Liam last night. Placing a hand on the knob, she stopped when hearing her name. Was Liam declaring to Estella just how much he loved her? The way he did when her parents gave him the twenty—thousand questions?
“… Raven. I have no feelings for her. We’re … having fun.”
No feelings … just fun … Playboy did not settle!
Veins flamed. A zombie with no brain, she ended up in her old room with its calming green walls. She sank into the cushiony sofa. He owned her. A piece of her soul would always be connected to him. Liam, the old one, would have been heartbroken. Sharon said we fear what we most desire. I desired to love him! And I plunged into it. He signed his name upon my heart. I’ve given him my everything! Trembling fingers went to streams flowing down her cheeks. Standing slowly, she went into the bathroom. Raven placed her hands together, allowing cold water to pool into them, and splashed it on her hot face.
Raven gave one last look in the mirror; outwardly normal, but inside … dying. She opened it. Liam stood in a grey suit and striped tie. Debonair.
He smiled and kissed her. “Why are you in here? I thought you moved all of your stuff to our room.”
Once again, her body became a traitor to her mind as his lips lingered. It took all of her might to step back. I am not your dum-dum. “I’m moving out.”
Face reeling as if he’d been slapped, he asked, “Why?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
She closed the bathroom door in his face and locked it.
“Raven, open the door. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She listened as Liam pled and waited for the voice of reasoning to remind her of all the bad things he’d done to her over a lifetime—she needed the motivation and self-hate like she needed air.
Guess I have to motivate myself! Trust and believe, Liam, you’re not going to like this. The rollercoaster of fun, Liam mentioned to Estella had run its course. They’d reached their climax, only for Raven to realize that it was solely for his enjoyment. She’d been banking on forever. He’d been splurging on a short ride. The magazines were right. Pierre was right. Those zigs and the zags had thrown her for a loop. Not love.
Hands over her ears, she waited for him to leave.
Now came the hard part. She had to get over him again.