Everything We Keep: A Novel
Read Everything We Keep: A Novel Online
Authors: Kerry Lonsdale
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2016 Kerry D. Lonsdale
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503935310
ISBN-10: 1503935310
Cover design by LEADesign
For Henry, who traveled five thousand miles to find me.
I love you.
CONTENTS
PART ONE
Gem City of the Foothills
Los Gatos, California
CHAPTER 1
JULY
On our wedding day, my fiancé, James, arrived at the church in a casket.
For years I’d dreamed of him waiting for me at the altar, wearing that smile he reserved just for me. It never failed to make my insides flip. But instead of walking down the aisle toward my best friend, my first and only love, I was at his funeral.
I sat beside my parents in the sanctuary filled with friends and relatives. They should have been our wedding guests. Instead, they’d come to pay their respects to a man who’d died too young and too soon. He’d just turned twenty-nine.
Now he was gone. Forever.
A tear trailed down my cheek. I captured it with the shredded tissue in my hand.
“Here, Aimee.” Mom gave me a clean one.
I crumpled it in my fist. “Th-thanks.” My voice hitched on a sob.
“Is that her?” a voice murmured behind me, and I tensed.
“Yes, James’s fiancée,” came a whispered reply.
“The poor dear. She looks so young. How long were they engaged?”
“I’m not sure, but they’d known each other since they were children.”
A surprised breath. “Childhood sweethearts. How tragic.”
“I heard it took weeks for them to locate the body. Can you imagine? The not knowing?”
I moaned. My lower lip quivered uncontrollably.
“Hey! A little respect here,” Dad whispered harshly to the ladies behind us. He stood, shuffling past Mom and me, bumping our knees, and then sat, bookending me between himself and Mom. He pulled me into his side, becoming my shelter against the whispered gossip and curious stares.
The organ blared as the funeral ceremony commenced. Everyone surged to their feet. I rose slowly, my entire body feeling achy and aged, and gripped the pew in front of me to keep from collapsing back into my seat. All heads turned to the rear of the church, where the pallbearers hoisted James’s casket onto their shoulders. As I watched them process behind the priest, I couldn’t help thinking they carried more than James’s remains, his body too decomposed for an open casket. Our hopes and dreams, the future we had road-mapped, also rode on their shoulders. James’s plan to open an art gallery downtown after he quit the family business. My dream to start my own restaurant when my parents retired from theirs. The little boy I imagined standing between James and me, his small hands linked with ours.
Everything would be buried today.
Another sob tore free of my lungs, reverberating off the church walls, the sound louder than the organ’s withering notes.
“I can’t do this,” I wailed in a harsh whisper.
Losing James. Feeling everyone’s pitying stares burning my back as I stood in the second pew. The air was stifling, a stale mixture of sweat and incense wrapped in the sweet, syrupy scent of the orchid bouquets artfully displayed throughout the mission-style church. The flowers had been purchased for our wedding, but Claire Donato, James’s mother, had them delivered for the funeral. Same church. Same flowers. Wrong ceremony.
My stomach pitched. I covered my mouth and tried to move around Dad toward the aisle. Mom snagged my hand and gave it a squeeze. She wrapped her arm through mine, and I rested my head on her shoulder. “There, there,” she soothed. Tears rained unhindered down my face.
The pallbearers lowered the casket onto a metal stand, then moved to their seats. Thomas, James’s brother, slid into the front pew beside Claire, who was dressed in a black suit with her silver hair coiled as tight and rigid as her posture. Phil, James’s cousin, moved into the pew to stand on her other side. He turned and looked at me, dipping his head in acknowledgment. I swallowed, inching back until my calves pressed into the wood bench.
Claire twisted around. “Aimee.”
I jerked my attention to her. “Claire,” I murmured.
Since the news of James’s death, we’d barely spoken a word to each other. She’d made it quite clear my presence was too much a reminder of what she’d lost, her youngest son. For both our sakes, I kept my distance.
The funeral progressed with a predicted lineup of rituals and hymns. I half listened to the speeches and barely heard the readings. When the ceremony ended, I slipped out the side door before anyone could stop me. I’d heard enough condolences to last me two lifetimes.
Guests spilled into the courtyard. I could see the hearse as I moved through the breezeway, hoping to leave unnoticed. I glanced over my shoulder and locked gazes with Thomas. He marched through the arched passageway and looped his arms around me. He gave me a hard hug. The coarse material of his suit scratched my cheek. He looked like James: dark hair and eyes, olive skin. A broader, older version, but he didn’t feel like him.
“I’m glad you’re here.” His breath wove through my hair.
“I almost didn’t come.”
“I know.” He moved me away from the crowd gathering around us until we stopped under the blooming trumpet vine at the edge of the breezeway. Lavender blossoms danced in the July afternoon breeze. The coastal fog that had blanketed Los Gatos in the predawn hours had burned off with the rising sun. The day was already too warm.
Thomas leaned away and gripped my upper arms. “How are you doing?”
I shook my head, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stifle the sob threatening to be heard. I stepped from Thomas’s arms. “I have to go.”
“We all do. Come, ride with me. I’ll take you to the burial and reception afterward.”
I shook my head again. He’d driven to the church with Claire and Phil.
Thomas sighed heavily. “You aren’t coming.”
“Only to the burial.” I twisted my fingers in the tie of my wrap dress. I’d driven there with my parents. I planned to leave with them, too. “The reception’s your mother’s affair. Her relatives and friends.”
“They were also James’s and your friends.”
“I know, but . . .”
“I understand.” He reached inside his suit and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “I’m not sure when I’ll see you again.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Just because James is . . .” I swallowed and studied my shoes, black wedges. Not the white satin open-toe pumps I was supposed to wear that day. “You can call me. Or visit,” I offered.
“I’ll be traveling a lot.”
I lifted my head. “Oh?”
“Here. This is for you.”
I unfolded the paper he handed me and gasped. It was a personal check from Thomas. A very large check. “What—?” My fingers trembled as my mind absorbed the value. $227,000.
“James was going to update his will once you married, but he . . .” Thomas rubbed his jaw, then let his arm fall to his side. “I’m still the beneficiary. I haven’t received the funds from his bank accounts yet, but this is everything you would’ve received, except his ownership at Donato Enterprises. He wouldn’t have been able to will that.”
“I can’t take your money.” I held out the check.
He slipped his hands in his pockets. “Yes, you can. You were going to be married today so it would’ve been yours.”
I studied the check again. It was so much money.
“Your parents are retiring soon, right? You can buy their restaurant, or start your own. James had mentioned that’s what you wanted to do.”
“I hadn’t decided.”
“Then travel, see the world. You’re what, twenty-six? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Do what makes you happy.” He smiled tightly and glanced beyond my shoulders, his gaze fixed across the courtyard. “I have to go. Take care, OK?” He kissed my cheek.
I felt the soft brush of his lips, but his words barely registered. The din in the courtyard had risen, and my thoughts were far from there.
Do what makes you happy.
I had no idea what that was. Not anymore.
I looked up to say good-bye to Thomas, but he was already gone. I turned around and found him across the courtyard with his mother and cousin. As if he felt my gaze, Phil cocked his head and met my stare. His brow lifted with deliberate purpose. I swallowed. He leaned over and whispered in Claire’s ear, then started walking toward me.
Air sparked like oil in a scalding pan. I heard James’s voice. An echo from long ago.
Let’s get out of here.
I tucked the check into my clutch and turned to go, slipping away toward the parking lot. I walked away from my past, unsure of my future, and with no idea how I’d be able to leave. I had no car.
I stopped at the curb, debating if I should return to the courtyard to find my parents when an older woman with pixie-cut blonde hair approached. “Ms. Tierney?”
I waved her off. I couldn’t bear hearing one more condolence.
“Please, it’s important.”
I hesitated at the odd tone in her voice. “Do I know you?”
“I’m a friend.”
“A friend of James?”
“Yours. I’m Lacy.” She extended her hand.
I stared at the arm hovering midair between us, then raised my gaze to hers. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
“I’m here about James.” She lowered her arm and peeked over her shoulder. “I have information about his accident.”
A tear beaded in the corner of my eye. I inhaled a deep breath, my lungs rattling from all the crying I’d done these past weeks. James had told me four days only, a quick business trip. Fly to Mexico, take a client fishing, negotiate contracts over dinner, and come home. The boat captain had said James cast his line, and after the captain checked the motor, James was gone. Just like that. Gone.
That was two months ago.
For weeks James was missing, and eventually he was presumed dead. Then, according to Thomas, James’s body washed up on shore. Lacy probably hadn’t heard his body had been found. Case closed.
“You’re too late. He’s—”
“Alive. James is alive.”
I stared at her, dumbstruck. Who did this woman think she was? I pointed at the hearse. “Look!”
She did. We watched the driver slam the back hatch and walk around the side of the vehicle to sit in his seat. He closed the door and drove away, heading out of the parking lot toward the cemetery.
I looked at her with a warped sense of satisfaction. But she kept her eyes on the black sedan and spoke in a hushed tone loaded with fascination. “I wonder what’s inside the casket.”
“Wait up!” Lacy trailed me as I weaved through the parking lot. “Please, wait!”
“Go away!”
Tears rimmed my eyes. Saliva thickened my tongue. I had to vomit, and Lacy wouldn’t leave me alone. I glanced toward the street. My house was less than a mile away. Maybe I could walk home.
Bile swiftly rose.
Oh God.
“Let me explain,” Lacy pleaded.
“Not. Now.” I clamped my mouth and ducked behind a large van. Heat flashed across my body. Dampness soaked my armpits and the undersides of my breasts. My insides pitched and roiled. I hurled forward.
Everything I’d held back broke free, spewing onto the sunbaked pavement at my feet. The voice mail from James that never came. The lonely nights awaiting word he was still alive. The call from Thomas, the one I had dreaded receiving. James was gone.
Then there was Claire, who’d insisted the funeral take place on our wedding day. Her church had already been booked and her relatives had travel reservations. Why should they have to cancel or reschedule their plans?
Another shudder racked my body. I retched until my heart ached and stomach emptied. Then I wept. Gut-wrenching gasps tore through me. Heavy tears plunged to the asphalt, splattering in the acidic stew.
In some remote part of my brain, I understood I’d reached my limit. If only I’d shattered at home, hugging James’s pillow. Not here, in the parking lot, with a crowd of people thirty yards away and a stranger hovering beside me.
I sagged against the van and sat on the bumper. Lacy offered a bottle of water. “It’s new.”
“Thanks.” My hands trembled and I couldn’t wrap my fingers around the narrow cap, so she took the water back and unscrewed it for me. I drank a third of the bottle before taking a breath.
Lacy tugged several tissues from her shoulder bag. “Here.” She watched me clean my lips and wipe my nose as she fiddled with her purse strap. “Better?”
“No.” I stood, wanting to go home.
Lacy’s forearm disappeared again into the mouth of her bag. She shifted around the contents and pulled out a business card. “I need to talk with you.”
“I’m not interested in what you’re selling.”
Her cheeks flamed. “I’m not selling anything. There’s something—” She broke off, searching the parking lot behind us before looking back at me.
I blinked, shocked by the intensity of her lavender-blue eyes. Instinct flared. She knew something.
“I’m not selling anything and I’m very sorry about
how
I said what I said, but it’s the truth. Visit me as soon as you can.” She snagged my free hand and slapped the card in my palm. Then she retreated and disappeared around the van.
Footsteps approached, the click-clack of heels running on pavement. “There you are,” Nadia gasped, out of breath. “We’ve been searching all over for you. Your parents are looking for you.” Waves of auburn hair spilled around her shoulders. Her updo had come undone, probably in her rush to find me.
Kristen stopped beside her, chest heaving. A run in her sheer stockings trailed up the side of her calf.
