Page 22 of Finding Kyler
I jerk my head up at him.
“She knew I wouldn’t turn you away, and she didn’t want you to be alone.”
I knot and unknot my hands in my lap. A messy ball of emotion sits like a heavy load in my stomach. Subconsciously, I twirl a lock of hair around my finger as I grapple with my feelings.
“You remind me of her so much. She used to do that, too.” He gestures at my finger, and I instantly cease twirling. He chugs his drink. The air is supercharged with heightened emotions, and I’m regretting ever asking.
I’ve more questions now than I started with.
Placing his empty glass on the table beside him, he opens one of the leather-bound albums, flipping through a few pages. “This is the last photo of us together,” he explains, pointing at a dog-eared creased photo. I gasp. It’s as he said—it’s like looking in the mirror. Her hair is bright red, and I instinctually touch my head. “She loved experimenting with her hair, and I was always handing over my hard-earned money so she could try out something new.” A wistful smile softens his features.
We flick through the rest of the album in relative silence. At first, he is explaining the circumstances and regaling me with the stories behind the images, but after a while, his voice gets more strangled until gradually he stops talking altogether.
A tidal wave of sorrow sweeps over me. Mum’s loss weighs heavy on James’ soul, and he’s been grieving for far longer than I have.
I always thought Mum was an open book. Yes, she was cagey whenever I asked her about my grandparents, but I thought that was because it was too painful for her to recall details of the house fire they both perished in. She led me to believe she was all alone after that, but she wasn’t. James cared for her. Looked after her. Made sure she didn’t go without.Why would she hide that from me? Was my father even aware?With all I’ve learned this past week, I’m now questioning everything.
On top of my grief is the sense that I didn’t know Mum at all. Because the mother who loved me with so much intensity and passion wouldn’t have lied to me about such important things.
But the awful truth is that she did.
And I want to know why.
Chapter Nine
A loud commotion from downstairs distracts us. James is up on his feet in a jiffy, dashing out of the study to investigate. I follow behind him at a more leisurely pace, gawping when I spot the scene at the entrance.
“We need to speak to your father,” a well-built policeman in a black uniform is telling Kyler at the front door. His meaty hand rests solidly on Kent’s shoulder, and Kent’s arms are securely restrained behind his back. Keaton is shaking his head at his brother. Kalvin is lounging against the wall, failing to contain his laughter.
James bounds down the stairs two at a time. “What have you done this time?” he fumes as he approaches his son.
Kent’s swagger doesn’t fade as he shoots his father a knowing look. “Ah, the usual. You know.”
“Mr. Kennedy, sir,” the officer interjects. “Your son has been caught shoplifting again. This time the store is insisting on pressing charges, so we need to take Kent down to the station for formal processing.”
“I appreciate you swinging by, Officer Hanks. I’ll follow you in my car.” James grabs his keys as he turns to Kyler. “Inform your mother, please.” He leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.
My three cousins turn and face me.
I prop myself up against the balustrade. “Shoplifting? Really?”
“Don’t sweat it, cuz,” Kalvin says, sauntering toward me. “This is a regular occurrence. Dad will write a check, and the situation will be brushed under the carpet. Mom will have a few choice words for Kent when she gets home, and then it’ll be forgotten about, until next month, when the cops arrive on our doorstep again.”
“Why on earth would he shoplift? You guys are totally loaded, and it’s not like he wants for anything. I don’t get it.”
“It’s never about the stuff he steals,” Keaton says. “He never even attempts to conceal what he’s taking—hewantsto get caught.”
Kyler folds his arms over his chest, observing but not contributing to the conversation.
“That’s a rather drastic way of ensuring attention.”
“Kent’s all about the drama,” Keaton confirms.
“And it’s a pointless exercise anyway,” Kalvin says, walking in front of me. “Mom’s engrossed in work, and Dad’s working on his handicap, so all he’s doing is pissing them off. Wait ‘til you see—they won’t pay him a blind bit of notice once this has blown over.”
Sure enough, when James returns from the police station with Kent, I hear him tearing a few strips off him before telling him to get out of his sight. Later that night, Kent strolls out the door to meet his friends as if he hasn’t a care in the world. Kyler tries to stop him, but James refuses to intervene, and Kent leaves looking like an earthquake is about to erupt inside him.
I actually feel sorry for him.
