Harriet’s lips thinned into a hard line. “I’m not sure if her mother even knows who Kenna’s father is. Or, if she does, I doubt she ever informed him that he has a daughter. The kind word for her would be flighty. She doesn’t have a mothering bone in her body. She’d dump Kenna on her grandmother and then leave for weeks on end. I thought when Carrie passed away, Kenna’s mother would step up, but she didn’t. When I found out she’d left Kenna alone for three days, I filed for custody. Janet didn’t fight it.”
My fingers flexed around my glass. The control, the rigidity, it all made a little more sense now. The majority of her childhood had been full of uncertainty. That changed a person’s makeup. “How old was she when she came to live with you?”
“Eleven.”
Not young enough. The damage had already been done. I found myself wanting to give Janet Morgan a good shake. “I hate that she went through that.”
Harriet patted my hand. “Me, too, dear boy. Me, too.” She took me in with an assessing stare. “What’s your interest in her?”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. “It’s not like that, I swear.”
Harriet scoffed. “I’ve heard that one before, and from far better liars.”
It wasn’t a lie. I was attracted to Kenna, but I’d never go there. I respected her too much, knew that she was looking for something I’d never be able to give her. “I’m not going after Kenna. Trust me.”
“Nothing would make me happier than my two favorites finding partners in each other, but you haven’t exactly been on the hunt for anything permanent. And my Kenna…she deserves a forever kind of love.”
I rubbed at the back of my neck. “That’s why I’m not going there. Our bickering and maybe some friendship, that’s all I’m looking for.”
Harriet shook her head and took a sip of her tea. “That’s your loss. And it’s a great one.”
I had a feeling Harriet was right, but it didn’t change anything. I needed freedom and the ability to do what I wanted, whenever I wanted. I’d never surrender that piece of myself to another again, it was too great a cost. I pulled out my briefcase. “Let’s look over this paperwork.”
“I see you avoiding the topic, but go ahead. Just know you can’t run from the demons chasing you forever.”
Oh, yes, I could. I’d made it my life’s mission, and it was working. I pulled out the papers and set them on the table. Harriet had had me draft a new will for her a few years ago but had called yesterday to ask if we could go over it to make sure everything was in order. “How do you think your family’s going to handle this?”
“Oh, they can suck it.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Brutal in your old age. I like it.”
She gave a little shrug. “I’ve been more generous with them than I should’ve been. It’s my fault they raised a spoiled-rotten son. Maybe this will be a little wake-up call for them all. But, unfortunately, I think it’s too little, too late.”
Wills, trusts, and end-of-life arrangements carried with them a truth that had a boldness rarely seen at any other time. They showed you who a person loved and loathed. How forgiving they were. And what they valued above all else. The documents sitting on the worn kitchen table in the palatial but warm estate showed just who Harriet Abbot was and what she prized most.
My phone rang through the speakers of my truck. Glancing down, tension began to gather at my temples. I hit Accept anyway. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, Crosby. How are things on that island of yours?”
I bit back a chuckle. She’d called Anchor Island, “that island of yours,” since I’d first moved here years ago, as if I owned the whole thing. I think she hoped it was simply a toy I’d pick up and put down, but it wasn’t. The small isle had become my refuge. “Things are great. I’m just headed back to the office from an appointment.”
“Business is good?”
When I’d announced my plans to move to Anchor to set up shop on the island, my mother had begged and pleaded for me not to. She’d told me if I needed a vacation spot, to go to Martha’s Vineyard or the Hamptons. Only the best for Georgina McCoy’s son. She had not been pleased when I’d gone west anyway.
“Everything’s steady.” There was only one other law office on the island, but the guy who ran it was a bit of a snob. So, slowly but steadily, I’d eaten away at more and more of his business.
“That’s good.” Her tone sounded as if she thought it was a fate worse than death.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “How are things in Boston?”
“We’re on the Vineyard this week, actually. Your father got a couple of days off.”
“That’s great. Hope you guys get some good weather.” I didn’t know why I shared the sentiment, it wasn’t like my mother went for long walks on the beach. She might deign to play a game of tennis or join my father on the golf course, but sand was a no-go zone for her.
“I’m sure we will. Look, I’m actually calling for a purpose.”
That pressure at my temples intensified, building in a steady beat behind my skull. “All right.”
“I ran into Alicia in town.”
My hold on the wheel tightened. “I don’t need to hear about her.”
“She and Brent broke up. She asked after you, so I passed along your new number.”
I let out a slew of curses under my breath. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“She made a mistake, Crosby. None of us is perfect. Surely, you don’t claim to be.”
A mistake was a single lapse in judgement. It wasn’t a two-year affair while my ring had been on the woman’s finger. “Then you go ahead and spend lots of quality time with Alicia. I’ll be passing on that.” It also meant that I’d likely have to change my phone number. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’m at the office.”
I hung up without waiting for her goodbye. My parents had always loved Alicia and all she represented: that their son was settling down, getting serious about his law career. When we were together, my parents had seemed genuinely interested in me for the first time in my life. I talked business with Dad while Alicia and my mom would chatter on about the season’s galas. I became more like them when I was with her. It didn’t matter to my parents at all that I was slowly dying inside the whole time.
I didn’t make the turn into my office’s small gravel lot. Instead, I headed for the mountain. I needed a taste of the freedom I’d gained that I now so fiercely defended. Today, I needed some one-on-one time with a rockface to drown out all the memories threatening to suffocate me.
3
Kenna
“This blasted piece looks like it should fit, but it doesn’t. I think this puzzle is rigged.”
Harriet chuckled and set down her tea. “Should I have Caelyn come over for another yoga session? It seems you’ve lost your Zen.”
I scowled at Harriet. “You’re a traitor, you know that?”