Prologue
Kara
“How far along are you again, dear?”
I let out a sigh of relief at my mother’s banal reaction over my overwhelming news. I’ve known since just before I left Alaska to come back to Florida, but this is the first time my parents and I have had a moment to reconnect.
“Just over twelve weeks,” I reply, modulating my voice carefully. I smooth my hand over my navy blue shirtwaist dress, my grandmother’s bracelet glittering at my wrist. I dressed the perfect part of the daughter my parents always wanted today—demure, not the woman I grew into being.
Most of the way to a doctoral degree in physics at the age of twenty-three, there was nothing I wanted more than to experience science tactically. That was until I met him.
Then all I wanted was more of his words.
My soul needed more of his kisses.
And I lost myself in his touch.
“Kara, are you listening?” my mother snaps.
“I apologize, Mother. You were saying?”
“I asked what your plans were?”
“Well, based on my calculations, the baby should be due around mid-March.”
“You haven’t seen a doctor yet?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to resolve matters at school as I don’t feel it would be appropriate for me to attend next semester.”
“No, that wouldn’t do at all. Would it?” My mother sniffs before taking a delicate sip of her tea. “Chip? What are your thoughts? You’re too quiet over there.” She tips her head imperceptibly in my father’s direction.
My father’s so detached, he might as well be in another room. He was on the phone for some time, scribbling hastily in his journal. When my mother’s voice calls him to attention, he replies, “Hmm?”
“I said, it wouldn’t do for Kara to attend school next semester. Do you agree?”
“Certainly not. After all, how will she pay for it?”
“Well, I understand babies are expensive, however, once grandfather’s trust comes in…” I carefully outline my—our—plans.
My parents stare at me blankly, as if I’m speaking a foreign language. Then my father chuckles warmly.
I relax my posture slightly. It will be all right. All that fear for nothing.
Then he opens his mouth and shows me why I was terrified to come here—back to where they ruined so many memories, why I escaped into the land of fact over emotion. I wish I could whisk myself back to the land that matched his eyes for just a moment. Because even though I was less prepared for the consequences of lying in his arms than I am for this conversation, I felt safe there.
Even if it was only for a short while. Here? I don’t know if I ever felt truly at rest.
Addressing my mother, he says, “Pat, excuse me for my terribly rude behavior earlier, love. That was what the call was about. Kara’s trust can be blocked, just as it was for Dean.”
“Excuse me?” I whisper. My older brother came out a few years before. And while we’ve maintained a close relationship, he was disowned by my parents. Or as disowned as a man of twenty-five could be. Thumbing his nose at the Malone heritage, he continued living exactly as he was as a fireman just outside the city limits.
I’ve loved my brother my whole life, and who he chooses to spend the rest of his life with means exactly one thing to me—Dean’s happiness. But to my parents, it posed an image issue.
So, they dealt with the image. Much like I suspect, to my queasy stomach, my father’s doing right now.
Ignoring my presence, my mother beams at him. “Oh, that’s delightful, darling. I knew you could do it.”
He smiles shyly at her praise for his abominable behavior. “They said it was trickier this time since Kara is over eighteen, however, I was able to convince the board she showed poor judgment by not only delaying her studies but by becoming sexually compromised. They agreed that if she was unable or unwilling to terminate the pregnancy, they would vote to revert her portion of the trust to the main fund.” Barely sparing me a glance, he bites down on his lower lip. “I don’t suppose you would consider—”
“How dare you!” I leap out of the settee I’m perched on, outraged. “This is your grandchild.”
“That—” My mother cringes. “—is an abomination. One we could still see about resolving if you’d use that logic you’re notorious for flaunting at inopportune times. Dear, Chip, did we apologize to the Fitzgeralds for the snub Kara gave their son the other night at the club?”
“I don’t believe we did. Let me make a note to—”
“You want me to murder my child!” I shout.
“And you’re asking me to give up mine,” Mother interjects smoothly.
Even as I press my hand firmly against my lower stomach, I hiss, “No one is forcing you to do anything except abide by your own worthless credo.” Storming to the door, I’m halted by my father’s voice. “Yes?” I spin to face them.
“Before you leave, we expect you to return everything on your person that belongs to us.”
Confused, I hitch my shoulders. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“Your credit cards, your cell phone. I’d ask for your car, but frankly, it’s too annoying to deal with selling for the value. Oh, and that.” He nods at the bracelet I’m rubbing back and forth across my wrist.
“No, Grandmother left this to me.” I clasp my hand over it tightly. It’s memories of laughter between me and Dean as children running up and down the beach at her home on Amelia Island, free from rules and etiquette. Free from the worry of disappointing my parents again.
“Your grandmother left it to the estate. We gave it to you,” my mother counters. Turning to my father, she wonders aloud, “I know I asked before with the other one, but is it possible to disown your grown children?”
“I looked into it before, darling. I can see if anything different has arisen since then if you like?”
“Do, please,” Mother encourages. “In the meanwhile, Kara—if you please?”
Almost like a robot, I pull out the few items they can lay claim to on my person, knowing with it I lose one of two ways I have to contact Jennings about the baby.
God, I hope he checks the email I sent him.
Dropping everything with a clatter onto their Chippendale pedestal table by the door, I reach for the clasp on my grandmother’s bracelet. Without breaking eye contact, I stride right to my mother and whisper, “Grandmother wanted me to wear this. She wanted it for me.”
“She didn’t want this for you,” my mother sneers, making a circle with her fingers.
“Maybe not. But she still would have loved me.” Dropping the bracelet in her lap, I announce, “I’ll wear it again one day.”
Without a word, without a sound, I turn and walk away from my family’s compound.
Groaning, I flush the toilet of Dean’s bathroom. “I’m so glad I stayed with you when I got home.”
Sitting on the edge of his tub, he rubs a hand up and down my back. “And this is where you’re going to stay, Kara.”
“I don’t think your social life is ready for your sister to be curled up on your sofa bed—”