Page 84 of Playing Pretend

Okay, not really, but if given the chance, I would rather cut my leg off at the knee than talk to my sister and my dickhead ex. “Nice place,” my sister said, looking around.

I agreed with her, it was a nice place with its’ hardwood laminate floors, open-plan living room, spacious bedroom, and windows overlooking the street below – but right now their presence made it feel ‘dirty’. The harsh sentiment was a trigger, bringing the memory of the last time I saw Katrina and Baxter to the forefront of my mind – he had her on her knees in front of him while he fucked her hard enough to shake the bed. Our bed. I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but the memory was still vivid, and stirred up all the feelings of anger, and resentment I felt when I left London. I thought that was the last time I would ever see them. Luck clearly wasn’t on my side.

“You have ten minutes,” I told them. “You can start with how you found me.”

“Let’s not waste time with that,” said Baxter. “We have more important things to discuss.”

“Like how you cheated on me with my sister?” I snapped. Katrina’s eyes fell. She couldn’t even look at me.

“We made a mistake.” Baxter reached out to touch me, but I flicked his hand away. “And we’re sorry that we hurt you, Kadence.”

“Five years,” – my blood warmed with vexation – “That’s how long I have been taking care of myself, and you’re saying sorry now?”

Katrina looked ashamed but finally brought her gaze back up. “We were different people back then and we’ve never forgiven ourselves for what we did -”

I scowled at her. “Spare me the bullshit, Trina. Looks like you’ve forgiven yourself just fine to me.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” she whispered. “And I regret it every day.”

“Not nearly enough,” I snorted with derision. “You’re pregnant, and wearing the same ring Bax gave me. I might’ve been blind to what was going between the two of you back then, but I’m not that stupid, naïve girl anymore. She fucked off and I grew up.”

Baxter said nothing, and my patience was almost at zero.

“Was there something else?” I asked. “You have five minutes left before I have the doorman escort you out.”

“The real reason we came…” Katrina started. She burst into tears before she could get the rest out.

I didn’t even know she had tear ducts, let alone that she knew how they worked. She’d always been as cold, and as heartless as our father, something she’d often prided herself on. I was having a hard time believing that her obvious distress was real, and not just another ploy to get sympathy. She wouldn’t find it here. That train flew off the tracks, and blew up the day I packed my bags all those years ago.

“It’s okay, baby.” Baxter rubbed my sister’s back, and the way he looked at her rankled me. Not because I was jealous, but because I’d wasted so much time on him. He charmed me, with his British accent, and sophistication, and his sandy blond hair and earthy green eyes. Lucky for me that wasn’t enough to hide the ugly that he had lurking beneath.

“It’s Dad,” my sister sniffled. I stiffened, prepared to tell her I wasn’t interested. I just hoped she wasn’t about to tell me he was in New York. “H-he’s dead.”

My mouth opened, but anything I wanted to say was cut off when I realized what she’d just said.

“What do you mean?” I asked dumbly. She’d made perfect sense, but it seemed my mind was refuting the information. My Father couldn’t be dead. That would have been far too merciful for someone like him.

“He had a heart attack while visiting with friends at Ascot racecourse,” answered Baxter. He continued to sooth my sister – wow, she was really giving this crying thing a good go – and then he looked at me. “We didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

I stared at both him and my sister as if they were complete strangers – strangers from a life I’d tried to erase.

I sat down on the sofa, feeling nothing but incredulity as my sister wailed into Baxter’s sweater. Two thoughts crossed my mind then, the first being ‘since when did my sister act so well?’ and the second, ‘who the fuck wears sweaters in July in New York?’

“When?” I asked. I looked to Baxter since my sister was a blubbering mess.

“Sunday. We had to wait for the medical examiner to determine cause of death, and rule out homicide before they released his body. Trina didn’t want to have a service for him before we spoke to you.”

“I don’t know why you bothered.”

Katrina untucked herself from Baxter’s chest, and looked at me with disapproval.

“Our Father is dead, the least you could do is look upset.”

Now I was starting to recognize my sister.

“Oh I’m sorry,” I flew to my feet. “Forgive me for not caring that the man who ruined our lives is dead. I haven’t heard from dear ‘ol Dad in five fucking years Trina, and now I’m supposed to grieve?”

“He tried contacting you,” retorted my sister. “But Mom was hell bent on protecting her precious little Kadence, that he gave up.”