Kellan
My eyes shoot open at the sound of the thud landing in front of me.
God that’s loud…
“A hate crime, Kellan?!” My father’s fuming voice reverberates around the dining room.
I focus my attention on the newspaper making the claim. Thankfully it’s a trash tabloid as opposed to an actual paper with credibility. “It wasn’t a hate crime…”
“Then explain to me why blogs around the world are saying it was.”
Great. That means I’m probably trending. My failing marriage is the discussion topic over breakfast or brunch or those enjoying a midnight snack. Fantastic…Wanna know what makes it all so much worse? I can’t stop her final words to me from looping in surround sound in my head.
“Saying what?” Kristopher questions entering the area with Keegan in his arms.
“That apparently your brother is homophobic.”
“I am not homophobic.”
“Your wardrobe alone tells the entire world that,” my brother jokes redirecting my eyes to his.
“Be grateful my nephew is acting like a shield right now.”
“Touchy. Touchy,” Soph hums, sauntering into the room.
It is crazy she doesn’t even look like she had a child. Don’t try to tell her that though. She will put you through the ringer while drawing you a map of the areas that are now a testament to her newfound motherhood.
“Kellan,” my father’s voice hardens. “Did you hit a gay man?”
I let out a heavy sigh and shove the paper away. “Yes-”
“Kellan!” They screech together.
“But not because he was gay!”
“Then why?” My father growls.
“Because he told me what a shitty husband I was and called me a prick.”
Two very true facts I did not need outlined for me yesterday.
“And it wasn’t just some random person like the paper and blogs are trying to imply. It was Guy.”
“You hit Guy?” Soph snaps at the same time breakfast is placed down in front of her and my brother.
“He deserved it.”
“For telling the truth?” She counters.
Her question churns the self-hatred I’m already harvesting in the bottom of my stomach. My face falls into the palm of my hand and I use my fingers to rub my throbbing temple.
“Is this why Brie’s not at breakfast?” My father invades the conversation. “Because you hit her friend?”
I don’t answer.
“Or is it something else?”
My silence remains.
“Kellan,” he pushes.
“I do not wish to discuss it.”
“I do not honestly care.” His retort lifts my eyes to his at the head of the table. “You’re clearly going through something and the last thing this family needs is one of your out of control tantrum’s ruining our currently loved reputation.”
And you wonder why business first is branded into my brain…
“The country is happy to see us happy. I prefer to see my sons happy. Plus, my grandson should have the opportunity to be brought up in the loving environment he deserves, which is not a possibility if his uncle is terrorizing the streets of our city.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I grunt, “High exaggeration.”
His eyebrows lift. “You broke his nose.”
“You broke his nose?” Soph echoes with sourness in her tone.
“Why am I feeling like this family loves him more than me?”
“Could you blame us?” Kris jokes between a bite of grapefruit.
“That’s not fucking funny!” I shout.
My outburst startles everyone, myself included.
Okay. Maybe I’m a little grouchy. I didn’t sleep last night. At. All. Brie didn’t call or text nor did she answer my calls or texts. The only reason I even know she was safe at Guy’s last night is because she turned on her phone allowing it to be momentarily traced. I haven’t even bothered changing my clothes…I can’t seem to muster the energy.
“My office.” Father stands to his feet. “Now.”
I give my face a quick scrub before following him out of the room like a child awaiting a pending punishment.
Isn’t my wife not coming home to me enough?
Once I’ve crossed the threshold into the area, he commands, “Shut the door.”
I do and lean my back against it. “Sorry for my behavior at breakfast…”
He leans against the edge of his desk. “I said I prefer to see my sons happy. You are far from it. Why?”
My phone vibrates again in my pocket and I make the motion to retrieve it.
“Do not answer that phone.”
His demand is met.
“Is that the actual reason your wife is not with us for breakfast this morning? She had finally had enough of playing second to your phone?”
“It’s work.”
“It’s always bloody work,” he bites to my surprise.
“It needs me.”
“She needs you.”
The lecture I’m sure I need, but do not want causes me to give the back of my neck a rub.
All of a sudden my father says something I’m not expecting. “You need to pay your uncle Trenton a visit today.”
“I’m needed at the office.”
“Reschedule.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t,” I huff tired of people asking me that question. “They found bones at one of the digging sites and today the results are being read.”
“After you get them, go see your uncle Trenton.”
“Father-”
“I am no longer asking. I’m demanding. You have an hour to wrap up your affairs at work and then you are to be at the landing strip for takeoff. And if you dare test me, like you’re always itching to, do not be surprised when there is a security detail to physically remove you from your office. Understand?”
My phone vibrates in my pocket once more. “Understood.”
He gives me a wave of dismissal, and I make myself scarce.
No clue why he’s sending me there. Maybe he thinks the fresh beach air will help me clear my head?
I have a prompt shower, change out of my sweats and into a suit before leaving the palace for the office. I spend most the drive sending texts to Brie, both playful and apologetic; hoping at least one of them will evoke a response.
Shortly after my arrival, Felicity enters my office dressed in a provocative red dress and sporting an obnoxious grin.
Helplessly, I grunt, “Why are you so cheerful?”
“It’s a beautiful day,” she brushes off as she sits on my couch. “Why wouldn’t I be cheerful?”
“Perhaps because my passion project is possibly about to suffer significant damage?”
She tilts her head at me. “Whatever it is we will work through it, Kellan. Together.”
Yes, I’m well aware of how double sided that sentence sounded.
There’s a small knock on the open door and a white haired man enters my office. “Morning. I’m Dr. Bobb. I’ve come with your results in regards to the bones that were discovered yesterday.”
“Please, come in.” I motion my hand for him to have a seat in one of the chairs in front of me. “Sit?”
“No, thank you,” he denies quickly. “This will be brief.”
“You’re not Aprille,” Felicity interjects with a hint of displeasure. “Aprille Smith was handling this case.”
“There was a change. She was called away to assist on something more important.”
“This is important,” my business partner snips defensively.
“It’s fine, Felicity. As long as we’re not being left in the dark about their findings, it doesn’t matter who did them.”
“It’s just I trust her is all,” her voice softens. “I prefer people I know and can rely on for such…delicate matters.”
“I’m sure Dr. Bobb is more than capable.” I lean back in my seat and nod for him to continue. “You may proceed.”
“The discovered remains are aged at 70 years old.”
My entire body tenses.
Fuck.
“It is now up to the courts to decide what to do with your space. However, I would like you both to know I noted the unusual state of the remains.”
“What do you mean unusual?” I quickly question.
“These bones were…highly preserved. As if…and this may sound odd, but as if someone simply transported a previously buried body and placed it in the hole.”
“Who the hell would do that?”
Seriously. How deranged does someone have to be do that?
“Sounds like sabotage,” Felicity snaps. “First the missing orders, then the lost schedules, and planted bones?! Who would do that to an organization that is determined to make the country better not worse? Who would be so callous to try to ruin this for the children? What would be the purpose? What are they hoping to gain?”
All honestly valid questions….
Dr. Bobb’s expression remains stoic. “I cannot answer any of those questions, Miss Malone. However, I have emailed you both a copy of my documented findings and my recommendation for keeping the site shut down the minimum amount of time allowed.”
Unsure of what else to say, I simply nod and extend my hand for him to shake. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Bobb. It is appreciated.”
He shakes my hand at the same time Felicity strolls over to the desk.
She repeats my action once I’m finished. “Yes, thank you.”
Dr. Bobb exits my office and she shuts the door behind him. With a hopeful expression, she states, “At least he recommended the shortest period possible.”
“Silver lining,” I mutter under my breath. Disbelief strikes me again. “Who would sabotage Hannah’s Hope? What’s the point?”
“Jealousy,” she tosses out quickly. “You know how competitors are.”
“Yes, but there’s no one competing with me on this. There’s no one else building something similar for there to be a rival.”
Felicity shrugs equally as clueless. “Maybe someone who hates the royal family? Someone who is still angry over your decision to marry someone…different?”
The idea of this being a blow back from my marriage causes me to groan and slip lower into my seat. “Fantastic…”
“We should spend the day discussing plans for what we can get done on the rest of the property. I can order us brunch or-”
“I’m leaving for the day,” I announce on a sigh after checking my watch.
Her voice seems to strain to remain cheerful. “Attempting to make up with your wife?”
Rather than give her the information she’s fishing for, I stand, grab my phone, and reply, “Personal matters.” Seeing disgust building in her eyes, pushes me to state, “I think I’m going to have everything shut down until we know further information. Not just about the schedule but if we are indeed being targeted or if these are actually numerous outrageous occurrences. I’ll call in a favor from the royal security team and see if maybe they can find a lead.”
“That seems…overzealous.”
“Well, I’m tired of being bloody kicked in the arse every time we start to make real progression.” I massage my scalp in an effort to find momentary relief. “I think…space…and…a general break would be well appreciated by everyone.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“I think it’s necessary.”
Felicity forces a grin back onto her face. “You’re the boss. I’ll have memos sent out in the next few hours.”
“Thank you.”
“Would you like me to do anything else?” Her tone hints at something more, but I decide to ignore it. “Perhaps provide you with suggestions for ‘I’m Sorry’ gifts?”
It’s my turn to fake a smile. “No. I’ve got that covered.”
Well I would if I didn’t think she’d set fire to whatever I had delivered. Ugh. With the way she snapped at me yesterday I wouldn’t put it past her to set fire to the delivery man too for simply doing his job.
I start to walk by when her hand grabs mine. “Well I’m here if you need to talk…”
My eyes glance down to where her thumb is affectionately stroking my hand. Guy’s hateful remark pangs my chest as it roots itself deeper into my chest.
This isn’t right…
Stepping out of her grip, I don’t say another word. I hastily make my way out of the building and for the waiting vehicle.
After a long jet ride filled with shots of whiskey and one short car ride filled with nonstop checks of my phone, I’m pulling through the gates of my uncle Trenton’s beach side estate.
The vehicle pulls around the front to drop me off, but Vincent stays behind. He gives me a nod to inform me he won’t be far if he’s needed.
He never is. If anything he needs this trip more than I do. He rarely gets to spend time with his brother. Drawback to both of them being security details.
I let myself in and stroll straight towards the patio area that’s attached to the main downstairs living room. My eyes drink in the marble floors, the white tile accents, and the light blue touches that cross my path.
The moment I head down the stone steps, my uncle Trenton greets, “Afternoon, nephew!”
Not at all surprised, he didn’t get up nor even turn away from his view of the water, I sit down on the cushioned lounge chair beside him. “Afternoon, Uncle Trenton.”
“Want a pint?” He has a sip of his drink. “You look like you could use one.”
I give him a sigh, “You haven’t even glanced my direction.”
He turns his head, momentarily lowers his sunglasses, and states, “That’s how terrible you look. I could feel it.”
The comeback makes me chuckle and he gives a wave to his poolside help.
“Take your shoes off. Lounge. Breathe the air.”
Knowing there’s no point in arguing, I follow his instructions. I do my best to get comfortable. The heavy heat from the sun bathes my skin but the cool coastal air instantly soothes it. I tuck my arms behind my head and stare off at the view that could bring even the most reluctant beach lover to the bright side.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Quite…”
“You can see why I go to extreme measures to protect it.”
The butler offers me the cold beverage. “I can.”
“Is that why you punched your wife’s friend in the face? For her protection?”
I grunt my displeasure with the question and have a long sip. Afterwards, I ask, “Did you see the paper?”
“No.”
“Blogs?”
“Your father told me when he called.”
Him and Kristopher are worse than the tabloids themselves…
My attention falls onto the waves in the distance. “He earned that punch.”
“How?”
“He told me I was terrible husband. Been treating my wife unfairly. Then he called me a prick.”
It doesn’t matter if any of it were true, you don’t say that to someone’s face. Especially not someone who was already on edge about their relationship.
“So you punched him because he was wrong or punched him because he was right and you hated hearing it out loud?”
My silence causes him to chuckle.
“Of course it was the latter. You’re a Kenningston.”
“No offense, uncle Trenton, but why am I here?” I turn to face him as he does me. “How is an afternoon of pints and beach air going to fix my marriage? And why would my father think talking to you would help? You’ve never been married. Hell, you’ve never even been bloody close. You’ve never been in love or felt the chaos that you endure when you’re so emotionally invested in another being it pangs you to unexplainable levels when you’ve hurt them. You’ve never experienced the fear of losing essentially your entire reason for existing.”
Uncle Trenton laughs lightly and shakes his head. “No wonder your father fears you’re going to turn out like me. Listen to that arrogance.”
“Arrogant or accurate?”
“Arrogant.”
Mmm…I think he meant accurate. What? Why are you insisting I hear him out? Do you know something about my family I don’t?
“I bloody warned you, nephew, not to take her for granted…”
Without my consent my eyes roll.
Not the best time for a bloody I told you so.
He grows a whimsical smile and reaches for his drink. “I’ll have you know, I was the first of my brothers to ever fall in love.”
“What?!”
“Yes. I was madly in love while your father was still getting blow jobs behind country clubs from every harlot south of Fayeweather.”
Bringing that up during the next poker night…
“I was also the first one to experience loss.”
My mouth hits the stone patio.
No bloody way…
Rather than rush to explain himself, he has a drink, turns to face the ocean, and tucks an arm behind his head.
I continue to simply stare on in impatience for more information.
Ugh. We really are more alike than we should be…
“We met our last year of boarding school. She was…” his words seem to get lost into the vast water he’s staring into, “breathtakingly beautiful. Not just physically either. She was one of those women the entire world fell in love with upon meeting. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her, I wanted to have her. It was a mutual feeling I later found out.” He has a sip. “It wasn’t long before we were in love. My life revolved around her. Around us. She was where my world began and where it ended. I would’ve burned the entire universe down if someone challenged me on the topic. Your uncle Fredrick received a black eye over it.”
“You hit uncle Fredrick over a woman?”
“Not a woman. The woman. The only woman I’ve ever loved my entire life. Will ever love…”
I swallow my surprise.
“I was just shy of twenty when I proposed. People weren’t shocked that I was so young, they were shocked I waited so long. Shortly into our engagement I was presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. Believe it or not, I could sell ice to the man who was going to sell ice to the Eskimos for twice the price.” His head rolls over to me. “I’m that good. And I always have been. So….when I was offered a chance to work with this investment firm, it seemed like an easy way to make a shit load of cash in a small amount of time. I’d planned to take the money I made, have a place like this built, and pay for my fiancé to go to nursing school. Her family essentially had spent all the money they had to send her to boarding school in hopes she’d get a scholarship to a university, which she did. But it wasn’t enough…” The pain in his voice begins to build. “And she never complained. Life wasn’t about money to her. She was always looking for the bright side of a situation. Even in the beginning of my days at the firm, when I wouldn’t come home until well after dinner, she would just be relieved I came home at all. But that type of shit grows old. Wears on a person fast. I began to take her understanding for granted. Dollar signs were embedded in my vision. I kept telling myself every penny I made was for her. Was for us. Was to secure a future for us in it together. I was busy trying to build us a financial empire to stand on and completely lost sight of the foundation I already had…”
My chest begins to ache as if the icy hands of his mistake have wrapped around my heart.
“She stuck with me longer than I imagine most women would’ve. She gave me chance after chance, but eventually chances run out. The well of understanding runs dry. By the time she walked out of my life there wasn’t anything I could say or do to change her mind. The damage was done. The trust had been…destroyed.” Uncle Trenton lifts his sunglasses and turns to face me. “There are two types of loss in love, Kellan. The one that comes from death, from having loved someone and having them taken from you to their grave before you’re ready. The type of loss you have no choice but to make peace with it. It’s not your fault. You are not the one to blame. You were a victim of circumstance you had no control over. But then there’s the loss that haunts you for a lifetime. The one that’s completely your fault. The one that you have no one else to blame for but yourself. The one that stares at you in the mirror every morning and cackles at you every evening from behind your beverage. The one with an ache that never dulls because you know the person you love most in the entire world is out there alive, laughing, dreaming, loving…just not with you and never with you again. That loss, nephew, in my opinion, is far worse.”
The knot in my throat begins to burn along with my entire body. Suddenly the impact of the words Brie said to me yesterday is amplified and burrows into my bones making it difficult to breathe. My choked voice croaks, “What happened to her? After she left you?”
“She moved away. Put herself through a smaller university program and began work at a local clinic where she met a fisherman. They were married the same year as your parents.” Uncle Trenton’s eyes fill with sorrow and he turns back to face the ocean. “It’s wise to remember, Kellan, just because you can’t move on…doesn’t mean the other person won’t.”
Silence places itself snuggly between us.
My head hits the back of the chair and tears unexpectedly begin to pool in the sides of my eyes.
This is not the life I want…Uncle Trenton is not the man I want to become. I hadn’t actually wondered if it was truly too late until this very moment. Until hearing a version of my story with an ending I detest. What if I’m all out of chances? What if this was Brie’s breaking point? What if I’m too late to fix it?
“Kenneth also mentioned your business had come into some trouble.”
I try to sniffle away the emotions as I turn my head to face him. “Um…yes. There were bones discovered on site. They’re seventy something years old, meaning we have to shut down, costing us valuable time and probably need to shift the facility we were building, which will cost us thousands of dollars. There will most likely need to be cuts in the budget and even longer hours to sort it all out…” A groan escapes. “And that is the absolute last thing I want.”
“To make cuts or spending more time at the office?”
“Both.” I have a sip of my pint to wash away the disgust. “And not just because I miss being out of it with my wife, looking at strange paintings and making out in the sand, but because I think it would’ve been better if I would’ve waited to start Hannah’s Hope with someone I didn’t have to question having deceitful intentions.”
Uncle Trenton’s smirk catches my attention. “I think it’s time I give you a wedding gift…”
My eyebrows dart down. “I got married months ago and you still haven’t given me a wedding gift?”
That’s odd, isn’t it? I mean he was at the wedding.
“I don’t give gifts at those things,” he brushes me off. “That’s ludicrous. I wait until you need something and then provide that. Like when your brother got married, about a year in, I gifted him and his wife lap dance lessons.”
“Wh-wh-what!”
“Things were getting a little stressful. They needed some fun to loosen up. Needless to say it added a bit of spice to their marriage, which is what the best ones are made of I imagine. Sugar, spice, and everything kinky at least twice.”
I wholeheartedly chuckle.
That’s the part I don’t mind us having in common…
“I’ll make that call in regards to your gift in a bit. For now…take a moment. Enjoy the view. Gain some much needed perspective.”
After nodding, I turn back to the water and take a long deep breath of the fresh air.
This isn’t over between us. I’m not done fighting. I’ll never give up on Brie. Ever. I just hope she feels the same about me.
Brie
I rock on my toes in line at the local coffee shop around the corner from Guy’s apartment.
It’s been four days and I still haven’t spoken to Kellan. I did however sneak to the Penthouse the next morning to grab some clothes, my toothbrush, and a few other things. Yes, I did the exercise Guy suggested and while the love column outranked the other two by surprising amounts, I’m just not ready to deal with him yet. To deal with the disaster we’ve come to call our marriage. As much as I miss him, and I do despite the fact he’s been an unreliable asshole lately, the space has been nice. It’s helped me clear my head in a way that’s hard to when he’s around. Sometimes I think when you love someone deeply it’s easy to sweep the problems under the rug and pretend they don’t exist. I think we’ve done more sweeping than anything else. I know things have to change. I just hope we survive the changes.
At the counter, I order a latte for Guy and a hot chocolate for myself. However the barista has a look in her eyes that makes me uncomfortable. “Can I get a name for the order?”
Cautiously, I reply, “Brie.”
“Like the princess?” She damn near shouts.
Um…inside voice…
Before I even have the opportunity to reply, she shrieks, “You are! You’re Prince Kellan’s wife! You’re Brie! Like the Brie!”
Taken off guard by her excitement as well as her volume, I slowly nod and request, “Could you ring me up now, please?”
“On the house,” she insists.
“No really I-”
“It’s fine!” She tosses a hand at me. “It’s not every day a member of the royal family comes in here to buy coffee from me!” My mouth twitches to reply when I’m cut off again. “Oh my God! Can I get your photo? Real fast? Just real quick! No one is ever going to be believe me!”
I reply with a casual shrug. “Sure.”
“Really!!! Oh my God! This makes my entire life!”
An odd thing to declare, but who I am to judge. Is it weird I find this awkward? I mean I’ve had my picture taken more times than I can remember with Kellan and with the children at MINOH, but never just me. He’s the famous, popular, actual royal member of this country. I’m just…me.
Leaning over the counter, I smile for the selfie. Afterwards she squeals and rambles on about all the places she plans to post it. I silently nod at the same time I step to the side hoping she busies herself with the next customer. Unfortunately for me, her outburst caught the attention of several people in the room.
This isn’t good…
In an uncontrollable swarm, I am swiftly bombarded with requests for photos, autographs, and opinions on political subjects I honestly know nothing about. By the time my drinks are ready, I can barely push past the crowd to retrieve them. I do my best to remain polite. Courteous. Flashes upon flashes begin to increase and an uncontrollable feeling of discomfort begins to crush me. An eager male arm lands on my hip and I attempt to brush him off with a light elbow push. However, he tightens his grip, tugs me closer, and prepares to kiss me on the cheek for an uninvited selfie.
Without warning he is grabbed forcefully by the shirt and removed from my personal space. “Unacceptable behavior.”
The young man skittishly backs away in a fit of apologies.
Kage looks down at me with a firm expression. “Are you alright?”
Unsure of how he knew where I was, but grateful, I give him a quick nod.
He protectively places a hand on the small of my back and declares, “Princess Brie is leaving. Please move.”
There’s no hesitation from the crowd. They part a direct path to the door for us.
Once we’re on the sidewalk, headed back for Guy’s building I shyly state, “Thank you.”
His displeased expression doesn’t change. “It’s my job, Mrs. Brie.”
“But-”
“Whether you like it or not, I am here to protect you. Whether you want me to be here or not, I am. When I agreed to provide protection for you it was a pledge to put your life before mine. To put this country’s interest above my own. It’s about honor. Duty. And just because you and Prince Kellan argue or fight or are separated, that pledge does not change. It does not change until you have the Kenningston removed from your name, which I hope you never do.” We arrive at the stopped pedestrian traffic for the cross walk. “My request for the future is that you allow me to do my job properly regardless of your personal complications.”
Do I thank him for being there to save me when necessary or fuss at him for scolding me for not calling him sooner? Maybe both?
The light gives us the walk symbol to cross the street. As we do, I ask, “How’d you find me?”
“It’s part of our job,” he replies, following me to the right. “And after the scare you gave the security department a few days ago, it is my ass if I ever lose you sight of you again.”
Guilt grabs me by the gut. “But that wasn’t your fault!”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“But it wasn’t! I left without telling you! I left without warning! You didn’t know anything about it!”
“Regardless, in the eyes of those who control my job, I failed. I lost sight of you. I wasn’t outside that door waiting despite not having been summoned. The only reason I am even still here is because Prince Kellan commanded it. Said he trusts me. Said you trust me.”
I hand him Guy’s cup to hold while I key in the building code. “I do trust you.”
“Then please let me do my job.”
With a nod, I push the door open to allow us both inside. On the elevator curiosity gets the better of me, “Were you in a lot of trouble over my disappearance?”
“When they couldn’t fire me, they cut my pay. Severely.”
My jaw drops and I thoughtlessly snap, “So quit.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“And why not?”
“Because I took my oath to protect you seriously. It’s not about the pay, but the honor as I mentioned earlier. And I’m not saying someone else couldn’t be entrusted with the job to protect you, but I know if I’m the one doing it, it is going to be handled properly.”
“Why me?” I croak at the same time the doors ding allowing us to exit. “Why so hell bent on watching out over me?”
“Because like Prince Kellan, I believe this country needs you. I believe you’re making a difference. And those set out to change the course of history should be protected at all costs at all moments. There are too many willing to do harmful things to stop progression and not enough willing to risk their lives to ensure it. I choose the latter.”
We arrive outside of Guy’s door and I quietly argue, “I’m really not making the huge splashes like you think I am.”
He smiles for the first time all morning. “You’re making ripples and that’s even better.”
Great. Now I feel even shittier for almost getting him canned.
The two of us enter Guy’s apartment just as he comes from the direction of his bedroom shirtless. There’s an unhappy, subtle growl next to me.
Everyone’s team Kellan…Why doesn’t anyone realize there really isn’t another team to cheer for?
“Should I be helping you pack your things to return home?”
I take the cup of coffee from Kage’s possession and give him a sweet look to relax. Delivering it to Guy, I state, “Not yet. Though I’m sure you and Stephen are probably ready for your space back.”
There’s a very faint sigh behind me.
Phrased my comment that way for that very reason.
Guys smirks at my tactic. “I’m not complaining. I enjoy listening to you yell at the T.V. during WWC.”
World Wide Cooking. It’s this ridiculous show where apparently everyone on it believes in the power of chives. Like, there are other ingredients people.
“If you even think about putting chives on my ice cream, I will end you and this friendship.”
He chuckles and has a sip of his beverage. “Message received.”
I offer him a smile. “Are you still coming to the hospital with me? You know little Mags loves when you do.”
“Tell me it’s not macaroni day. Not exactly my favorite jewelry to wear.”
His comment gets me to grin wider. “No…We’re gonna do this thing where we trace their hands and feet on the paper and then they create their body around it. It’s this really fun visual exercise, I actually did it at MINOH too. Cliff turned his into this cyborg punk thing. It was really intense. Remind me to show you a picture of it in the car.” After he nods to acknowledge my state, I add, “Plus this project will help them see how big they’ve grown when they look back on it later.”
“Alright. Sounds more fun than painful. Let me grab a shirt and we can head out.”
Once he’s left the room, Kage quietly questions, “Would you prefer me to drive you, Mrs. Brie or follow?”
I give him a sweet smirk. “You can drive.”
He does his best to hide his relief. “Yes, Princess Brie.”
After a quick change from Guy and a swift stop at the art store for fresh supplies, we head to St. Cecila’s Children’s Hospital. Upon our arrival, I’m greeted immediately by nurses and doctors alike. Most members of the staff have come to recognize my face from the frequent visits I’ve made ever since the first time Kellan suggested it.
Sometimes I think he may see something I don’t always see in myself, you know? Like I had no idea I’d fall in love with teaching. Remember how nervous I was? But it was like something about having him in my life illuminated more possibilities than I had ever realized. I think it’s another reason why him missing my test date hurt even more than the obvious.
The moment we round the corner towards the area where the children are waiting for us, I notice a familiar face at the end of the hall.
I shift the objects in my hands to Guy’s. “Go ahead and go in. Feel free to start. I’ll be right back.”
He cocks an eyebrow in question.
“I need to check on something.”
Guy nods his understanding and enters the room to receive a loud, warm welcome.
Kids love him too. He always pretends to be too weak to do something, letting them feel super strong. He’s friendly and kind. He makes an excellent partner during these visits even if Amelia pouts for a bit when he comes instead of Kellan. I have no doubt he’s going to be wonderful at the orphanage. You know, assuming Kellan hasn’t tossed his file in the trash.
Kage maintains his distance, but follows me down the hall.
My attention falls on the red headed woman whose back is resting against the wall, face looking down, trembling. “Jillian?”
She lifts her eyes revealing their puffiness. “Hello…”
“Are you okay?” I cautiously ask glancing into the room across from her.
The question seems to make her lip tremble.
Oh no…
“Is…is everything okay with Amelia? Is she not feeling well enough to join us today?”
Jillian takes a long shaky breath before she forces herself to reply. “No. She…She…”
Words I’ve never wanted to hear and that she never wanted to say silently fill my ears.
Rather than require her to say them, I simply ask, “When?”
“Last night,” her tear stained voice answers. “Early yesterday morning there was a match for a transplant…She was prepped and put into surgery within hours. We were so excited. Our little girl was finally going to come home…”
I try to still the sadness starting to swarm my system.
“But then there were complications during surgery. And then an infection. And then she was…she was…gone…” There’s a glum bewilderment to her tone. “One minute my baby was alive and the next…” Tears drop from her eyes yet she doesn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, they wanted us to pack up her things from her room and I just…I’m still trying to get the courage to go in there.”
Instantly, I volunteer, “Let me.”
“Oh no Brie I-”
“It’s okay.” My hand gently touches her arm. “You don’t need to go in there and face that. I’ll pack up her things and bring them to you. Why don’t you wait in the lobby or take a few moments to go home? Rest?”
She shakes her head and brushes away the fallen droplets. “We have to meet with the funeral director in half an hour.”
“You focus on that. I’ll handle everything here. In fact why don’t I just bring these things to your home later this evening?”
Unable to say much, she whispers, “Thank you…”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I whisper back.
My lips press together to prevent me from saying what it is people tritely say in this situation.
While I am sorry for her loss, that’s not what the hell she wants to hear! That’s probably the last thing, and it’s probably the only thing she’s been hearing since it happened. Any suggestion for something more meaningful?.
Softly, I state, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I want you to know, Amelia was an amazing little girl and I’ll never forget her.”
Another flood of tears breaks free from her eyes.
Shit. Not better, was it?
All of a sudden her arms fly around me and I nearly topple over. Kage prepares to handle the situation when I lift a hand to stop him. He stands down, and I give her the embrace she needs. The shoulder to cry on.
It takes several minutes before Jillian has the strength to walk away from where her daughter’s room is located. I wait until she is out of sight to head inside. As soon as my feet cross the threshold an unmistakable misery musters into my veins. On the call board across from her bed is an array of artworks, several of which we created together. The window sill is decorated in colorful flowers and messy haired dolls. The waiting room chair is filled with stuffed animals. Her bed has one special pink teddy bear and one matching blanket. On the small table beside her bed are two framed photos. One of her with her family and the other of her with me and Kellan. In ours she’s wearing the Frozen dress I bought her and we’re wearing paper hats.
We had a tea party in her room that day…Kellan showing up was a complete surprise. He was headed to go tux shopping with his father and brother, but stopped in first. It completely made her day. Mine too.
Any remaining air in my lungs disperses.
How can she be gone?
My phone begins to vibrate in the back pocket of my paint stained overalls and it barely registers. Somehow I grab the device to check the message.
Husband: I know you’re still not talking to me, but I heard about the coffee house incident. I’m worried. Are you alright?
I glance around the room, the promise I made reverberating at a deafening level.
There’s no hesitation in my reply.
Me: No.
Me: I need you now.
His response time is relieving.
Husband: Where are you?
Me: St. Cecila’s.
Husband: I’m on my way.
He probably gets that I’m not actually hurt, right? This is a children’s hospital. I shouldn’t have to add, ‘Don’t worry. I’m not physically injured, just emotionally’.
Kage cautiously calls from my over my shoulder. “Mrs. Brie. Guy is calling for you down the hall.”
I take a step back out of the room, attempt a deep breath, and hustle my friend’s direction. Our discussion is brief and spoken in code so we don’t upset any eavesdroppers or spread information not intended to be shared openly yet. At the end of it he gives me a hard hug and whispers if I need him, he’s there.
And I know he is. And I know as a friend he probably always will be. But right now, I need something more. I need my something more.
About twenty minutes after my text message, Kellan is barreling down the hallway towards me. As soon as I’m within arm’s reach, he doesn’t hesitate to tug my entire body against his, and hold me extremely tight. His heart is thrumming so hard I can feel it knocking against my chest. The feeling of his head resting against mine releases the sobs I didn’t realize I had been holding. He flexes his arms, and I cry harder. He does his best to hold still. To remain strong. To be the rock I can rely on. However, when my fingertips dig into his back and my choked voice declares, “she died” he breaks. His cries crash into mine and suddenly all the bullshit keeping us apart doesn’t seem to compare to this tragic moment that’s now claiming us.
Why is it so often that death has to be a reminder of what really matters to the living?