I choke on the pain, on the remembered sight of Gaz’s blood splattered across the wall of our father’s office. The lie lodges in my throat like a knife, and I feel suddenly like I’m the one that’s bleeding to death, soaking the floor in crimson. My knees get weak, but through sheer force of will, I keep myself standing.
“What am I going to do now?” Nellie asks me. No, more like pleads with me. She’s still beautiful; she’ll always be beautiful. But neither of us are fools. Well, I might be a fool in love, but I’m experienced enough to know what the world thinks when it looks at my mother.
An aging beauty. A mother of four with only one living child left. A husband who’s fifteen years her senior and lives a hard life. Eventually, Nellie will be all alone, and I’ll be the only one left to comfort her.
“I …” I start, but I don’t feel equipped to handle this situation. What do I do? How do I soothe her, knowing that I’m holding onto a lie? Gaz is dead, Mom. He’s gone, too. He’s gone, and if you knew that, you’d fall apart. “I’m pregnant,” I manage to choke out, watching as her blue eyes widen slightly, and a surprised smile takes over her mouth. Some mothers might be upset to hear that their eighteen-year-old daughter was pregnant. Normal mothers. Healthy mothers.
“Already?” she asks, and then pauses, pairing that information with what she already knows. “Oh. Beast is …”
“Don’t worry about that part,” I tell her, grabbing items off the surface of the desk, including that wooden husky carving that Reba got for me, the one that I once chucked at Grainger.
“Are you happy?” Nellie asks, and I can hear in her voice that she is, but that she’s trying not to get too excited.
I consider that question as I pile items into the box, determined not to let the sadness of this moment overwhelm me.
My whole family is dead, I think, feeling this emptiness inside of me that I so desperately want to fill. That’s why I’m doing this, I realize, why I so suddenly and surely know that I can do this. I can have a kid, and I can do everything right that was done wrong to me.
I don’t want to be the only one left in this godforsaken family, the only Kesselring, the only club daughter. People have children for all sorts of reasons. Most of them are, if you really think about it, selfish as hell. Nobody brings a child into the world out of kindness because we all know how cruel and dark it really is.
So if I want a baby for myself, what does it matter?
“I’m happy,” I say, but when the words come out, they’re dripping with myriad emotions. I look over at Nellie, overwhelmed with empathy for a woman that I told myself I hated. For years. God, I really was young and stupid, wasn’t I? For once in my life, I admit to myself that I actually don’t know the answer to everything. I actually don’t understand everyone and everything. My cynicism is a defense mechanism, and my hatred is a shield. “Or I will be. I know that I will be. Because I won’t allow myself to be otherwise. If you’re not happy, you have to search yourself and ask why. And then you have to fight to change the things you don’t like.”
Nellie stares at me like I’ve had a brain transplant, even more so when I step forward and put my arms around her. She stiffens up at first, but then she lets out this happy sigh and curls her arms around me right back.
“It’s okay, baby,” she soothes, stroking my hair back. “I’ll help you through this.”
I almost laugh at that, but it wouldn’t be right. Mom, it’s not you that’s holding me right now. I’m the one holding you. I’ve got you, Nellie. Even if you did me wrong in the past, I have your back. I will always have your back.
We separate after a moment, and I excuse myself, slipping past Sin and down the stairs. Grainger is waiting on the sofa; Crown is out front; Beast is prowling the perimeter. I decide that I’m most likely to get some space in the backyard, heading out the door only to find Cat sitting on a chair beside the pool.
My heart stops.
He turns back to look at me and our eyes meet with a clash of struggle and pain. I feel myself falter, my palms sweat, my head swim.
Cat returns his attention to the pool, and I wonder if he’s thinking about Posey. I know I always do, when I come out here.
“Sit down,” he commands me, his voice a dark song that I dare not defy. I’ll dance to the tune of it, or bad things will happen to me. At least, I’ve always thought that. It’s been true in so many ways. He’s hit me on more occasions that I can count. He’s done horrible things to me in the name of love and protection, but yet, here I find myself walking forward to take a seat on the chair beside him.
