The Girl of Sand & Fog (20 page)

Zoe’s eyes light up. “We could go
clubbing. Jake hates to dance. Probably because he sucks at it.”

I crinkle my nose. “Clubbing? I don’t
know. It just wouldn’t seem right without Bobby.”

She groans. “You’re not married. You
can go clubbing. Jake doesn’t care if I go without him.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yep.” Then she makes a face. “It
means he doesn’t have to go and he’s cool with that.”

“I’ll have to stop at my house to get
different clothes. All I have is jeans and shorts at your place.”

I turn off Highway 1 and start making
my way through the surface streets of our neighborhood.

“Was Bobby stoked when you told him
you could go to Tahoe?”

“Yep, pretty darn happy boy. I’m
flying out tomorrow. I still can’t believe that when I called Chrissie to
discuss flight details she was still cool with everything.”

Zoe pouts. “I wish I could go.”

I lift a brow. “Are you ever going to
tell me what got you put on restrictions with the coolest parents ever, Ian and
Yotti?”

She crinkles her nose. “Jake stayed
over by accident. He didn’t mean to. He fell asleep and my dad saw him in the
morning nude and in my bathroom.”

“Oh shit.”

“Exactly. I can’t go anywhere with
anyone but you, Kaley, for the entire winter break.”

I glance at her. “Do you want me to
stay and not go to Tahoe?”

She beams. “No. It’s OK. But it’s
really sweet that you offered.”

I turn into my driveway. “I’ll stay
if you want me to.”

“Nope, that’s OK.” Zoe frowns. “Whose
car is that and what the heck kind of car is it?”

A sleek, foreign sport car is parked
where the Mercedes had been.

I pull my keys from the ignition.
“I’ve never seen a car like that before.” I make a face. “But I’m pretty sure
it’s Alan’s.”

“So everything is good. Right?”

I slouch back in my seat. “Good? I
don’t know if it’s good. My mom’s not talking to me about it. And I’m not
prying because Bobby’s right. It’s their shit and it’s better that I stay out
of it.”

 Zoe nods in approval. “My mom says whenever
I hear them fight all night that my only job is to be happy. Which is totally
confusing, because I can’t be happy when they’re fighting and when I am happy
she grounds me. Like she did over Jake.”

We both start laughing again.

I open my door. “Do you want to wait
here, I’ll just be a sec, or do you want to come in?”

Zoe unbuckles fast. “Definitely in.”

When I step through the front door,
Ethan barrels into me, wrapping his arms around my legs. I set down my keys on
the console table and lift him up onto my hip.

“What’s wrong, little buddy?”

He lifts his face from my shoulder.
“Is Aarsi still here?” he whispers fiercely.

My eyes go wide. “Her car is gone. I
don’t think so. Why?”

“I don’t want her to catch me. Don’t
want to go to Grandma’s with Krystal and Eric. Want to stay with Mom.”

I kiss him on the cheek and set him
on his feet. “I think you’re safe. You don’t have to hide anymore, Ethan.
Where’s Mom?”

He stares up at me. “In the studio.”

I frown. “Still?”

He takes off without answering me and
disappears down the hall.

“God, he’s so cute,” Zoe says.

“He looks just like my grandpa Jack.”

Zoe looks around the house with her
nose slightly lifted in the air. “Something smells good.”

“Lourdes must be cooking. Are you
hungry?”

Zoe nods enthusiastically. “That
popcorn didn’t do it. I could definitely eat.”

We go into the kitchen to find
Lourdes hard at work.

“Hi, Lourdes. How long until dinner
is ready?”

She arches a brow. “Ethan has already
eaten. I did not know you would be here for dinner. You will have to wait. I’m
busy now.”

I peek into the oven. “Wait? Why?
There’s braciole.”

“That is not for you, mi niña. You
want braciole you tell me you will be here. I am not a restaurant. That is for
Mrs. Harris and Señor Alan. A special dinner for them. You wait until I’m done.
Then you can cook yourself a grilled cheese.”

I give her the wide puppy-dog eyes.
“But it smells so good. And braciole is my favorite.”

Well, that worked brilliantly.

She doesn’t even look at me. She
stares intently at the tablet beside her, chopping vegetables somehow without
chopping herself.

Her eyes shift to me briefly. “It is Señor
Alan’s favorite, too. That is why I make it. For him. Not you.”

Zoe chokes back a laugh, but my
cheeks burn. Fuck. I’ve only been gone five hours. Everything feels totally out
of whack again.

I sink down heavily on a barstool.
“Where is Alan, anyway?”

She points with her chin. “He is in
there.”

Zoe’s eyes glow impishly as she leans
in to me. “He’s in the cabinet? Way to go, Chrissie. She’s got him hog-tied now.”

We both laugh.

Lourdes rebukes us with her eyes. “Señor
Alan is in the nursery. He has been there all evening with Khloe. I have been
watching. It is why I am cooking him braciole tonight. A man who does not love
his children is not a real man. Even if they are as cute as Señor Bobby, you
should not sleep with them unless you are positive he will love his children.
Remember that, chica. Much happens in a woman’s life beyond her control. But a
real man always loves his children.”

My entire body is on fire.

Oh fuck.

Does everyone know my personal stuff
that I’m sleeping with Bobby?

Did they have a group meeting without
me?

“Let’s bail, Zoe. We can eat out.”

I turn and her attention is glued to
the tablet. She’s all mushy and emotional. She looks at Lourdes. “I’d make him
braciole, too. That’s got to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen a guy do.”

Lourdes smiles. “Is he still sitting
with her, crying?”

Zoe nods.

Crying?

I rip the iPad away from her.

Oh God.

Alan is sitting there on the bench
with Khloe, cuddling her against his chest and crying.

I can’t breathe.

It feels like there is a knife stuck
in my stomach.

My insides are roiling again.

I can forgive Zoe—she’s not
thoughtless, only a ditz—but Lourdes? How could she say those things with me in
the room?

“A man who doesn’t shed tears over
his children will never be a good father,” Lourdes tells Zoe. “Señor Alan will
be a very good father. I am not worried any longer.”

It’s like there is a pillow on my
face, darkening the world and suffocating me. Without a word to either of them,
I run from the kitchen. I’m in the foyer when the tears let go.

“Kaley,” I hear Zoe call from behind
me.

I stop my forward motion, but I can’t
stop everything rumbling through me.

Why do they lie about me and not her?
Why does Alan love Khloe and not me? I’m ashamed of what I’m feeling because in
this moment I truly hate her, and it’s not her fault. She’s just a baby. But why
her and not me?

I’m walking in circles, shaking my
hands, trying to calm the sudden rush of too much inside me. It’s a shock like
seeing a horrific traffic accident. Only it’s not an ugly thing. It was
beautiful, it was loving, it was right, and I hate everyone for it.

Zoe clutches my shoulders and whirls
me around. “Oh, Kaley, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper,
gasping with every breath. “But I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. This shit
stops tonight. It feels like it’s killing me.”

Zoe’s eyes are enormous on her face.
“What are you going to do?”

I reach for my keys on the console
table, see Alan’s, and take those instead. It’s time to get him someplace away
from Chrissie and have it out finally. He won’t chase after me. Not
this
daughter.
But I’m pretty fucking sure he’ll chase after his car.

CHAPTER 19

Bang.
Bang. Thud.

“Zoe Kennedy, what is the matter with you?” a
voice bellows, shattering the airwaves as something hits the wall.

I jerk awake to find Mr. Kennedy standing in the
open doorway, messy as if he’s just climbed from bed, wearing boxers, a t-shirt
and an open robe.

Oh crap, he’s frantic.

Alan must be here.

Zoe pulls slowly from sleep, rolls over and grabs
her phone from the bedside table. “Jeez, Dad, it’s 7:30 a.m.”

Ian looks like his eyes are about to pop out of
his head.

He crosses to the room and sinks down on Zoe’s
bed. “Really, that’s what you’re worried about? How early it is? You weren’t
joking last night. You stole a Bugatti Veyron Super Sport. It’s parked in my
driveway. A $2.4 million car. Have you lost your mind, girl?”

Zoe flips over toward me, eyes enormous and fixed
on my face. “Kaley! We stole a $2.4 million car! I knew it was a bad idea.”

Oh fuck.

Don’t fold on me now, Zoe.

I struggle to remain calm because there is
entirely too much anxiety in the room, I don’t want to get swept away in their
panic and lose my nerve, and Alan’s here and it’s time to get this over with
finally.

I push the hair back from my face. “Well, how was
I supposed to know it was worth that much? It’s foreign.”

Ian shakes his head. “I’m not even going to ask
why you girls stole Alan’s Manzone’s car last night. Get up. Get dressed. Get
moving. He is in my kitchen, pissed off and demanding to speak with you,
Kaley.”

An internal prick of distress; I ignore it.

My lips pucker anyway. “See, I told you he’d
follow his car.”

Zoe’s eyes somehow grow larger. “You’re not going
to do it, are you? I thought you were just letting off steam. I didn’t think
you’d really go through with it.”

I arch a brow. “Well, you thought wrong. Of
course I’m doing it. It would be stupid to come this far and not finish.”

“Do what?” Ian’s face snaps up anxiously.

“Jeez, Dad, do you have to know everything?” Zoe
makes an aggravated growl and stares at her father. “Can you get out of here so
we can get dressed?”

Ian springs to his feet. “I’ll wait in the
hallway, but you girls better not take long. I want you in that kitchen
apologizing to him in five minutes. And before you argue with me, Zoe, he can
call the cops for what you did. So unless jail is what you two girls are into,
you better start moving fast.”

The door closes behind him and Zoe’s panic kicks
up ten notches. “Jail. I don’t want to go jail,” she wails as she pulls on a
pair of sweats.

I roll my eyes. “We’re not going to jail. Alan
won’t even get mad at me. Denial may be a terminal addiction for my dad, but
instinct won’t ever let him do something that would hurt me. He never has and
he never will. And he can’t send you to jail without me. I stole the car.”

“My dad made it sound to me like Alan was pretty
mad.”

Once I’ve put on my clothes, I run my fingers
through my hair, and then do a fast check in the mirror. “He won’t even yell. I
promise. Try not to freak out, Zoe, and don’t say anything. Let me do all the
talking. It’s all good.”

“Good? It’s a freaking nightmare.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and we race for the
door.

I follow Ian into the kitchen, and Zoe hangs
behind me ten steps like she’s going to cut out or something.

I falter for a moment in the doorway. Yep,
there’s Alan, in the clothes he wore yesterday, standing at the kitchen island
sipping coffee. The only unexpected part of this scene is the hour. 7:30 a.m.
Didn’t see that one coming.

I lean back against the counter, cross my arms
and meet his black stare with my own black stare.

“I believe you have something that’s mine,” Alan
says, his voice clipped and controlled.

My gaze shifts to Zoe, hovering close to her dad
by the fridge. “What did I tell you? Nothing. Whatever I do he never gets angry
at me. I swear one of these days I’m going to explode. I can’t take it
anymore.”

Zoe’s eyes flash with sad comprehension, but she
says nothing.

Alan sets down his coffee. “Oh, believe me,
Kaley, I am very angry. I just prefer not to yell in Ian’s kitchen. Go grab
your things. Get in the car. We’ll go somewhere where we can both yell until
you can explain to me what stealing my car is about.”

Nope, last thing I want is to end this now. I
search for something to say that will piss him off.

“Did you have a nice night with my mother?”

That worked.

His face reddens.

“That’s what this is about? You stole my car
because you’re angry that I spent the night with your mother?”

I take a moment to look around the kitchen,
making sure Alan knows I’m in control of this and that he isn’t, and then I
shift my gaze back to him.

“Why should I be angry about that?” I jeer, but
maintain an air of indifference. “You’ve used my mom as an emotional crash pad
my entire life. I’ve watched this movie before. I know how it ends. So why
don’t you leave before you fuck up my family even more than it is already?”

He stares at me, saying nothing, like he doesn’t
know how to manage this or even what this is about.

Internally I start to twirl.

“I’m not doing anything of the sort, Kaley.”

Fuck. Calm. Patient. Tolerant, and Jesus Christ,
how can he stare at me and not know what’s happening here?

It can’t be true.

Linda can’t be right.

Alan would have to be blind not to see what’s
obvious.

I scrunch my mouth. I start to shake my head,
flipping my hair, and fight to hold my emotions in check.

“Go get your stuff. I’ll drive you home.”

I look away from him. “I don’t have to go
anywhere with you. You’re not my father.”

The second I say
father
my stomach
shudders.

He stares at me, shaking his head.

“I suggest you get moving. Now, Kaley.”

My fingers curl around the counter until my
knuckles turn white. “I should have wrecked the fucking car!”

Crap, I showed my anger first.

I look at him.

Black eyes rapidly search my face as if he’s
trying to figure out what’s going with me and can’t.

My stomach does another painful somersault.

“I don’t give a damn about the car, Kaley.” He
leans across the counter, removes a rolling pin from a kitchen countertop
utensil set, and holds it out to me. “Wreck away. Destroy the car if you think
it will help you. Then maybe you’ll be ready to talk to me and you can explain
to me why you’re angry.”

Really?

Why I’m angry?

Are you cruel?

Stupid?

Or just dense like everyone says?

You’re my fucking father; why shouldn’t I be
angry?

“I don’t want to talk to you,” I murmur in an
embarrassingly weak voice. “It’s pointless. It always has been. I’m not leaving
here with you. Call the cops if you want to. I don’t care.”

The second I say those words my insides go cold
because I realize they’re true; it is pointless. I won’t ever get the truth by
talking to him.

“I’m trying to cut you a break here, Kaley.”

Is that what you call this?

Cutting me a break?

“You’re not cutting me a break,” I snap with more
emotion than I want to show. “That’s not what you’re doing here. Denial may be
a terminal addiction for you, but even you should be able to figure out that
I’m not a child anymore and I’m not stupid.”

He rakes a hand through his hair again. “I know
you’re not a child. I’ve never thought you were stupid. I know you’ve been
through a lot lately. It’s why I’m willing to let this go and take you home.”

“Now you’re just being patronizing and stupid.”

I push away from the counter and run from the
room. I dropped to my knees beside the bed, grab my tote, and lift out the box
Zoe and I bought at the pharmacy last night. GeneSys Home Paternity Test. Try
being fucking clueless with this shoved in your face.

I go back into the kitchen, stare at him, and
slam it down on the counter in front of him.

Alan’s face pales. “Where did you get that?”

“You can buy more than condoms at the drug
store.”

He grimaces, and I can feel that internally he’s
as chaotic as I am now. Getting the picture at last, Dad? Even as frightened as
I am, something akin to crippling relief floods my veins, a sensation that this
part of my life will be over soon, and that my dad might finally just talk
straight to me and explain to me why—

“I’m not going to take that.” Alan’s furious
voice pulls me from my thought. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve embarrassed
me. Are you happy?”

I gape at him.

Embarrassed?

Happy?

I fight not to throw the box at him, and instead
calmly remove and then unwrap one long Q-tip looking instrument.

I hold it out to him. “Touch it inside your cheek
and give it back to me. I can do the rest myself.”

His eyes move so rapidly as he studies me I can’t
tell what he’s thinking or how this is hitting him or what direction this is
going to go.

“This is about Khloe,” he announces as if a
lightbulb just turned on in his head.

Infuriating and wrong.

“Your constant anger at me, everything you’ve
done this morning, it is about your sister,” he continues in disbelief. He
meets my gaze directly, unwaveringly. “Yes, she’s my daughter, you are going to
have to figure out a way to be OK with that, and I don’t need to take a DNA
test, Kaley. There is no doubt in my mind and I won’t do it. I would never hurt
your mother that way. Your mother’s word is enough for me. It should be enough
for you, too.”

Oh God, Alan, there’s only two of us talking
here. Why am I not even the focus of this discussion for you? Why is it always
my mother? Only now it’s Khloe also and not me.

The tears are pushing upward.

I have to get out of the room.

I won’t let him see me cry.

“God, you’re an idiot,” I scream, startling
everyone, before I grab the box off the counter.

I hurry down the hallway to Zoe’s room. My
thoughts and emotions are spinning. I shoved a DNA test in his face, and even
after that, for him, it wasn’t about me.

The tears erupt and I sink down on the bed.

I feel arms around me.

I turn into Zoe.

“I’m sorry, Kaley. I know that was awful for you.
But Alan is here. I know you missed it. But he was trying. He just didn’t get
it. You shouldn’t have run. Why didn’t you just ask him if he’s your dad? Why
didn’t you talk to him? Demand the truth.”

I lift my face, frantically brushing at the
streaming wetness on my cheeks. “Because I could see it in his eyes. He is
never going to tell me the truth. He would have lied to me. I didn’t want to
hear him say the words to my face. I don’t think I could take that.”

*  *  *

When
I pull into my garage, Mom’s car is gone. Perfect.

I unbuckle my seat belt and grab my bag.

“Kaley, you’re not really going to do it, are
you?”

My mouth drops as I look at Zoe, nervous crinkle
in her brow and ridiculously fretful. Can she really wonder that after the
scene in her kitchen this morning?

“Yep. I’m doing it,” I announce, opening the car
door. “I don’t know why you are still freaked out. Nothing bad happened. Jeez,
Alan didn’t even call my mom. My phone would have blown up hours ago if he had.
He never gets mad. He never tells on me. It’s all good. Can you stop worrying?
Are you coming?”

Zoe lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes. I’m
coming. I’m hoping you’ll change your mind. I don’t think this is the way to do
it. It feels kind of wrong to me.”

I slam shut my door and wait as she climbs from
the passenger seat.

I stare at her across the roof. “I won’t get the
truth any other way.”

Her pale brows crinkle more. “Just promise me you
won’t do anything crazy after you get it or I won’t help you.”

I roll my eyes. “Way to have my back, Zoe.”

She crosses her arms.

I widen my eyes. “I promise.”

I open the door into the house and the sound hits
me like a brick. Twins running wild. Someone has turned on the audio system all
through the rooms. Katy Perry. Gag me.

I go into the kitchen and find Aarsi and Krystal
sitting together like besties on the family room floor, with Khloe in a bouncer
between them.