Under His Care (3 page)

Unfortunately, when she looked at the caller ID, her heart sank.

It was her parents’ phone number that displayed there, like doom and gloom—everything from her old life flooding back, hitting her in the gut.

She’d been avoiding them for so long now, and Kennedy had the realization that it had been cruel and wrong of her to do that.

No more running away
, she told herself, and picked up the phone, answering it with a heavy heart.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Did I wake you?” her mother asked nervously.

“Not really,” she said, and then, not wanting to lie, laughed. “Actually, you did, but it’s okay. I’m glad you called. We should talk.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you too,” her mother said. “It’s been a long time coming, and I knew that, but I was frightened.”

“Frightened of what?” Kennedy asked. She was surprised, actually. Her mother had always been so certain, so sure of herself and her rules and the meaning behind all of her actions. She’d never seemed frightened of anything that Kennedy could recall.

“I was frightened of how you’d feel about me—about us,” she continued.

“You mean you and Dad?”

“Yes,” her mother said, her voice sounding choked with emotion.

“So you know that I know about my being adopted,” Kennedy replied.

“Uncle Jake sent your father a link to an article online about you and Nicole Jameson being sisters, and we realized then that you knew everything.”

“I’ve known for a long time,” Kennedy said. Her heart was beating fast and she had a lump in her throat, but in a way, she was surprised at how calm she was overall.

“I suspected you knew about the adoption when you stopped speaking with me, but I couldn’t be sure. I almost hoped you were angry with me for some other reason.”

Kennedy shook her head at the senselessness of it all. Why were human emotions so messy, so complicated, so irrational?

“I don’t understand why you and Dad never told me I was adopted.”

“We didn’t want you to feel different than any other children. You were ours and we were yours.”

“But there was nothing wrong with my being adopted. It was just the truth, Mom.”

Her mother sniffled on the other line. “You don’t know what it was like to be scared for you, to worry. You were…and you always have been so precious to us, Kennedy.”

“You treated me like I was made of glass. You made me frightened of the world, and you pushed me in a direction that I might not have gone in had I had any choice in the matter.”

Her mother’s voice suddenly grew strident. “Well I won’t apologize for raising you with morals and values if that’s what you’re referring to,” she said.

“Morals?” Kennedy laughed. “That’s one way of rationalizing it.”

“Maybe we made choices you didn’t like, young lady. But if you don’t agree with it, you can raise your kids differently and see how it works out for you and them.”

“Ah, there it is,” Kennedy said.

“There what is?”

“That tone of voice,” Kennedy said, sitting up straighter, feeling more awake and also more furious. “That tone of voice you always used on me, the one that said you had the direct line to God, to right and wrong—you and Daddy…”

She shook her head.
Mommy and Daddy
. It was so childish, but she still referred to them that way at times. “You and Dad acted so holier than thou, but meanwhile you were total hypocrites.”

“Because we didn’t tell you that you were some other woman’s biological child?” her mother asked, incredulous.

“Exactly.”

“We raised you, we loved you—“

“And you lied to me. All you and Dad every preached was being honest, telling the truth, being good and trustworthy. Well how can I trust anything you say if you keep that big of a secret for so many years?”

Her mother fell silent for some time.

Kennedy started to feel badly for arguing with her mother after so much silence between them over the last few months.

“Kennedy,” her mother said, her voice sorrowful. “Your father and I aren’t perfect. We tried out best to love and care for you and protect you. We encouraged your education, believed in the brilliance of your mind, and we were so proud when you went to MIT and then became a teacher.”

“I know that,” Kennedy said. “I do.” She hung her head.

“I’m not sure what to say anymore,” her mother continued. “Did you move to New York to pursue a relationship with your sister and her family?”

“Yes,” Kennedy answered.

She could almost hear her mother’s heart breaking over the phone.

“I’m…I’m glad for you, if that’s made you happy.”

Kennedy considered for a moment. Had it made her happy? She was so lost, so alone in this city. But then she thought of Nicole, the way her sister had stood by her in the latest crisis—had been there for her when it counted.

In a way, that did make her happy.

“You’re not going to ever lose me,” Kennedy said, and at that moment, she heard her mother burst into tears on the other end.

“Thank you for saying that,” she cried.

“Mom, nobody could ever take away what you and Dad have given me. You raised me. You loved me. I know that.”

“But we…we…we made mistakes. We were dishonest and I’m ashamed of that.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you. Honestly.”

Her mother sniffled. “We miss you so much. You used to come and visit, and call, and now the house feels very lonely and empty without the sound of your voice or even the phone ringing.”

“I’ll call more. I promise.” Kennedy smiled. “I love you, Mom. I know I ignored you and I moved away without really ever saying why. The truth is, I needed to go off and make my own way in the world. I had to find out who I really am. And I didn’t come to New York just because my sister was here.” She laughed. “Well, at first that’s why I came. But as time’s gone on, I realize that I came here because I needed to experience the intensity, the scariness of this world—and New York is so intense and so scary at times…But I can take it, Mom. I’m strong enough and I’m surviving here.”

As she said the words, she suddenly understood how true they really were.

“I know you’re strong, Kennedy. I always knew you were strong.” Her mother took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, sounding like a wind was blowing into the receiver. “The thing is, I’m not that strong. I’m weak.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s true. I’ve been afraid my whole life, and then when we got you, it was like everything shined down on us. Everything shined down on me. And I wanted to protect you from all of the things that had hurt me, all the bad things…” she trailed off, crying again.

Kennedy found her own eyes were moist now. “It’s okay, Mom,” she soothed.

“I’m so proud of you, my baby girl.”

“I love you, Mom. Don’t cry, please.”

Eventually, her mother settled down and they were able to make some small talk before getting off the line with each other. They discussed some silliness with the neighbors and a dog that was barking at early morning hours. And then Kennedy talked a little bit about the job she’d been doing, of course leaving out that she’d begun an affair with her boss.

When they finally ended the call, Kennedy was shocked at the feeling of relief that flooded through her body.

It was like fifty pounds of dead weight had slowed off her shoulders and she was light as a feather.

But then she remembered how her and Easton were finished, which meant she couldn’t ever go back to work, which meant she was in trouble in more ways than one.

Maybe she’d also told a little white lie to her mother in the latest conversation.

She’d said that she could take New York, she was strong enough. But the verdict was still out on that case, and Kennedy knew it.

***

The rest of the day, Kennedy slept and moped around the apartment. She was genuinely tired, hung over, and more than a little depressed. There were a lot of other emotions mixed in with those. It was a cocktail of sadness, grief, pride, stubbornness and confusion.

She tried not to think about Easton but it grew more and more difficult as the day wore on and she didn’t hear from him.

And what did she want to hear, exactly?

Kennedy didn’t know. She wanted him to call, but told herself that she wouldn’t answer if he did call. But then, when he didn’t call, she grew increasingly agitated, restless. She checked her phone incessantly, began imagining Easton having hot, sweaty sex with a tall, voluptuous blond, and the blond was fucking him so much better than Kennedy ever could have done.

By the time night fell, she’d given up hope in more ways than one, and broke open a bottle of wine, drinking three glasses, and then falling into a drunken stupor before sleep overtook her.

She woke up feeling sick. The sun was beating into her eyes from where she’d fallen asleep watching television, and now it was daylight and it felt like shards of glass were poking into her forehead.

Kennedy sat up, and her stomach lurched in a very unsettled, very precarious way that let her know this wasn’t just a false alarm.

It was all hands on deck.

She got up, stumbled across the floor and rushed as quickly as she could, just barely making it to the bathroom as the contents of her stomach emptied. Most of it went into the toilet bowl, but a small amount spattered the rim and even the floor as she heaved up her guts.

It was awful, and her entire torso contracted and tensed as she heaved again and again.

What was it? Food poisoning?

Was she really that hung-over?

Kennedy flushed the toilet and then began wiping the mess up with toilet paper, and the sight of the partially digested food made her gorge rise yet again. She heaved, but nothing came up, although her insides twisted enough, as if wringing out her stomach the way she might wring out an old dishtowel.

She spit into the toilet, dropped the toilet paper inside and flushed again.

“Gosh,” was all she could say.

Then she rose unsteadily to her feet, hobbled out to the kitchen counter and made sure to pour the rest of the wine from the previous day into the sink.

It smelled.

It must’ve gone bad or something.

Kennedy went to bed, shivering, curled up and slept some more. This time, when the cell phone woke her, she didn’t immediately think of Easton. She picked it up and saw Nicole’s name and smiled.

“Hi,” she said.

“Did I wake you?” Nicole asked uncertainly.

“Well, I’m sick or something.”

“Or something? What’s wrong?”

“I threw up.”

“Oh no,” Nicole said. “Are you all right? Do you have a fever?”

Kennedy shook her head as she put her hand up to her forehead and tested. “I don’t think so. Maybe I got some food poisoning or something.”

“I hope you weren’t eating at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant or one of those nasty hot dog stands.”

“Are those hot dog stands bad?” Kennedy asked.

“Some of them don’t look very clean. Anyway, as long as you’re okay, I just wanted to check in. I wanted to see how you were doing…” the words hung in the air.

Kennedy realized that it was rather an awkward situation now that Nicole had become aware of Kennedy’s relationship with Easton. After all, both Easton and Kennedy worked for Red.

It was not a very normal scenario, and it had only gotten more complicated.

“I’m doing okay. I don’t really know.”

“Where are you right now? Is Easton there?”

“No,” she said, not sure how much she wanted to reveal. After all, it was strange to tell too much when Easton and Red had a business relationship.

“Kennedy,” Nicole said, as if sensing the problem, “I’m your sister. I won’t tell Red anything about this if you don’t want me to. I’ll keep it between us.”

Kennedy breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay,” she said. “I think we might be over.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Nicole said softly.

And then Kennedy began detailing what had gone on once Red and Nicole had parted ways with them after their encounter with the mobsters.

She told of meeting Easton’s father, and all of the unpleasantness that had culminated in Blake yelling outside the house and Easton getting angry and kicking her out into the street in the middle of the night.

When she was done telling her story, Nicole was quiet.

“That was wrong, what Easton did to you,” Nicole said.

“I know. I thought so too. But then I started questioning myself,” Kennedy told her. “I remember all the nice things he did, the way he stood up for me, the way he looked at me when we…you know…when we were together.”

“It’s a difficult situation,” Nicole said. “Do you love him?”

Kennedy didn’t need to think about her answer. “Yes, I love him.”

“And do you think he loves you too?”

This one wasn’t so clear. “I don’t know anymore. I thought that he did. I thought he was falling in love with me, but then he turned on me out of the clear blue. He attacked me, treated me like I was just an enemy, a stranger, someone he didn’t care about at all. I can’t understand how someone could treat a person that way if they truly loved them.”