22. Kalen
22
Kalen
A fter our early afternoon practice, Elias and I head to my car and once again I notice he’s quiet. I’ve been quiet myself lately too. It’s strange. Ever since I ran into Sahara and her brother at that café, she’s been going out of her way to avoid me. Not entirely. We still hang out when we can, but I can’t help but feel something is off. That she’s pulling away.
We need to talk. I’d damn well drive to her house today and do just that if she hadn’t gone to her brother’s place for Thanksgiving a few days early. But maybe I’m imagining it, because I also get the sense that Gina has been avoiding me, and that’s just weird. Maybe everyone is just really busy.
“You okay, man?” Elias asks me.
“Yeah, just thinking about my drive to my father’s place. It’s been a while. I’m not sure how it’s going to go over, you know?”
He nods and scrubs his face, like he’s dealing with his own demons. “It’s not easy going home.”
“Nope.” I start the car and back out of my spot. Traffic is heavy with everyone preparing for the holiday. “You need a lift to the airport?”
“No, I’ll just Uber.”
We drive in silence, both lost in our own thoughts and when we get home, we grab our bags and head inside. I plan to drop my bag and grab the one I’d already packed for our road trip to New York. A part of me can’t believe I’m actually going, yet another part knows it’s time.
Inside, Elias drops his bag and heads to the kitchen. I lift my head to find Taylor coming down the stairs in her yoga clothes, no luggage in her hand, and none at the doorway. She doesn’t look like she’s ready to hit the road anytime soon. “What’s going on?”
She frowns, and my gut tightens. “Miles is sick. Dad doesn’t think it’s a good idea for us to come. He asked if we could reschedule for Christmas.”
“Shit,” I murmur, and while I’m not sure about that, the hope on Taylor’s face has me nodding. “Yeah, sure. Is Miles okay?”
“Dad said he has the flu, and he doesn’t want us to get sick.”
“Okay.”
Elias comes back into the hallway. “You’re not going?” he asks.
“Doesn’t look that way.”
“Why don’t you go to Sahara’s for Thanksgiving?” Taylor suggests, taking a seat on the stairs. I’m about to protest, and she holds her hand up. “She told me her brother invited us both, but I think you should go alone. I don’t want to be a third wheel.” With her hands still up, she continues with, “I’m a big girl, brother. I can take care of myself.”
“Actually…” We both turn to Elias. He steps closer to my sister and grips the handrail. “Now that you’re not going to New York, maybe you could come with me to California. Be my pretend date so I can shut down my parents’ attempts at marrying me off. It’ll be a quick turnaround since we have a weekend game.”
“Ah,” Taylor begins, a twinkle in her eye. “Get the game going early.” She grins, clearly liking the idea.
“That, and I don’t want you alone during the holidays, T,” he explains quietly and my heart pinches. I love how much he cares about Taylor and if she doesn’t want to go with me, then I’m glad she’ll be with my best friend.
Taylor turns to me. “What do you say, big brother? You go see Sahara, and I’ll go practice my acting skills with Elias.”
Would Sahara even want me there? She was quick to point out that I was having Thanksgiving with my family—she wants to see me mend things with my dad—but she did say she would have loved it if I went with her.
“I say yes,” I finally tell her, and she jumps up.
“Okay, let me get packed.” A worried look comes over her face. “Wait. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Is it too late to get a flight?”
“Go get ready,” Elias says. “I’ll make all the arrangements.”
She hurries up the stairs, leaving Elias and I alone. “Thanks for this,” I tell him.
He nods, and averts his gaze and I get it. He’s worried about the charade. But knowing my sister, she’ll pull this off.
“I guess I’m going to…shit, where am I going?” I laugh. I didn’t even look at the card Charlie had given me. I have no idea where he lives. I assume it’s near Yale, since that’s where he works.
Elias laughs. “Safe travels, wherever it is you’re going, buddy.”
I hurry upstairs and open my nightstand. I threw the card in there a while ago. I pull it out and for a brief moment, I consider calling Sahara, but then decide against it, partly because I want to surprise her and partly because there’s a chance she might balk at the idea, and I really fucking want to see her and meet her family.
I read the name: Charlie Lewis, and find his address. Maybe I’ll drive by grandma’s old house. But grandma’s old house and the fact that Charlie’s last name is Lewis has me thinking of Darien Lewis again. Why does she always pop into my mind? I guess maybe it’s because I feel like we have some unfinished business.
With the card now tucked in my back pocket, I give my sister a hug, and thank Elias again before heading outside. Back in my car, I punch in the directions, and go through the drive thru to get a coffee and banana bread for the road.
Traffic is crazy and what should have been a three-hour drive turns into four, and it’s already getting dark by the time I pull up outside Charlie’s house. It’s big and impressive and as I stare at it, taking in the expensive vehicles in the driveway, my heart hurts for Sahara. Why can’t her family see just how talented and special she is? If only they saw her in action. Maybe I can convince them over Thanksgiving dinner.
I park my car, and leaving my bag in the back seat, I walk up to the house, glancing around the elite neighborhood. It’s far different from where Sahara lives. At the door, I hear laughter and voices, and I ring the bell. A few minutes later, a pretty woman with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a very pregnant belly stands before me. She stares at me for a second, like she’s trying to figure out who I am, and I hold my hand out for a shake.
“Hi, I’m Kalen Coolidge. A friend of Sahara’s. Charlie invited me to dinner when I met him in Boston.”
Her eyes brighten. “Right, the hockey player.” Her cheeks turn a bit pink. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you. I don’t follow the game.”
“No worries.”
Her brow’s bunch. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”
“Change of plans.”
“Come in. You’re just in time for dinner, actually.” She steps back and I walk into the warm house.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Charlie invited me, but I don’t want to put more work on anyone’s shoulders.”
She waves her hand as she closes the door behind me. “No problem at all. Any friend of Sahara’s is a friend of ours.”
I smile, really liking this woman.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She puts her hand on her chest. “I’m Victoria. Charlie’s wife. Charlie is going to be thrilled that you came.” A smile spreads across her face. “Sahara too, I’m sure.” She angles her head, a look I don’t quite understand, moving across her face. “Actually, everyone will be thrilled.”
She guides me into the living room, and I take in the numerous heads lifting to see me. I scan the room until I find Sahara, who is looking at me like I might have a hockey stick growing out of my head. Shit, maybe I should have called, or maybe I shouldn’t have come at all.
“Kalen…” She jumps to her feet, her jaw agape as she almost stumbles toward me. “What are you doing here?”
“Your brother invited me, remember?”
“Kalen, my man.” Charlie steps up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m so glad you could make it.” He turns. “Everyone this is Kalen Coolidge, Sahara’s…friend.”
Oohs and awes come from the family as they check me out.
“Friend?” An elderly woman who looks very much like the matriarch of this family asks.
“Mom, Kalen and I are friends,” Sahara explains quickly. “I thought you were going to see your father.”
“Miles was sick, so we didn’t go. Taylor went with Elias and I came here.” I stare at her for a second, and my heart jumps into my throat. “Maybe I should go.”
“No, it’s just…” Her words fall off, as she grabs me and ushers me into the kitchen. “You surprised me is all.”
I cock my head. “I take it, it’s not a pleasant surprise.” Jesus, she looks like she’s going to be ill. “I thought…I guess I thought wrong.” My stomach cramps as I look over my shoulder. I need to get the fuck out of here. What the hell was I thinking? She doesn’t want more and me showing up here like this, has her acting like a skittish cat.
She bites her lip, worry radiating off her. “I’m sorry.” I take a step back.
“It’s not…” she begins and stops. “I…I need…we need to talk.”
With my heart in my stomach, because I’m sure this talk is going to be the big turkey dump, I say, “Okay, let’s talk.” I glance at the kitchen table, and walk toward it, to pull a chair out. “Is here okay?”
“Darling, why didn’t you tell me you were dating an NHL player?” her mother asks, stepping into the kitchen. Her gaze rakes the length of me, clearly sizing me up to see if I’m good enough for her daughter. Judging by the shine in her eyes, I’d say I was. “I’d invited Jeremiah to dinner.”
“Mom, I’ve asked you a million times not to set me up. I can find my own date.”
“Yes, I see that you can. Should I call Jeremiah?”
She nods. “Can we please have a minute.”
“Darien, whatever it is you need to say to Kalen, can it not wait? We’d all like an introduction.” She wags a finger. “And you have some explaining to do.”
Darien?
I turn back to Sahara, and her face is ghostly white. She grips the island, holding onto it like it’s her lifeline, like if she lets go, she’ll fall to the floor.
“Mom,” she whispers, her voice low and strained, as her eyes begin to water. “We need a minute.”
“Always with the theatrics, Darien.” Her mother flips her hair over her shoulder. “Make it quick, please.” Pleasure glints in her eyes, and I fucking hate being worthy because I’m a professional hockey player. I’m a guy who comes from a dysfunctional, broken family. I bet if that’s all I was, she’d be showing me the door. “We have so much to learn about your new friend.”
She leaves the room and my pulse hammers in my throat as I watch Sahara bite her lip so hard, I’m sure it’s going to bleed.
“She called you Darien?” She nods, and in that instant understanding hits like a hockey puck to the face. I eye her, my gaze zeroing in on her face as the pieces all fall into place. My stomach lurches and I stumble backward.
“Darien Lewis?”
I can’t be right. This isn’t happening.
Oh, but it is happening, dude.
“I…Kalen…”
“What the fuck?” I croak out, sinking into the chair. “You’re fucking Darien Lewis. The girl I hooked up with in the library, years ago.”
She gulps so loud that I can hear it across the room. “Kalen…you…you knew it was me?”
“Yes. I ran after you.” She averts her gaze which makes me ask, “Did you know it was me?” I always assumed she did, but could never be sure.
“Yes,” she squeaks out, putting that question to rest.
I swallow. “When you met me at the theater, you knew it was me, Kalen Coolidge, from the closet?”
A tear falls down her face as she begins to sob. “Yes.”
“What the fuck, Sahara.” I snort out a humorless laugh. “Or rather, Darien.” I grip my hair and tug. “Jesus, that’s what was going on at the café. Your brother was about to call you Darien a couple of times, and he…he must have known I was from Darien.” More tears fall down her face as anger courses through my veins. “What was this all about?” I wave my hand back and forth between us. “Were you fucking with me? Was it revenge or something?” I rub my damp hands on my pants. “Jesus, your brother was in on it too, calling you Sahara.”
“Sahara is my middle name,” she murmurs. “I didn’t want to be Darien from Darien. You said it yourself how crazy that was, and then…then…when I moved to Boston. I didn’t want to be Darien the librarian.”
“Holy fuck. You’re a librarian? You’re a fucking librarian.” As more pieces fall into place, my mind races with questions. “That day…shit, that day I ran into you.”
She nods. “Yes, I was working. I’m sorry, Kalen. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
What the ever-loving fuck is going on here? “Why didn’t you?”
“I just thought it was going to be a quick hook-up, and…” She grabs a tissue and wipes her eyes. “I was trying to discover who I was. I’d just gotten out from beneath my parents’ thumb and I…you seemed to like the girl from the stage.”
“All this time you were pretending to be something you weren’t.” My father’s deceit flashes in my brain. Jesus, talk about history repeating itself.
“No…yes, I mean not really. I was trying to find myself.” She lifts her head and her gaze meets mine. “You never liked that girl from high school. So, I became someone I thought you’d like.”
“You never gave me a chance to get to know that girl from high school” My voice jumps an octave when I repeat, “You didn’t give me a fucking chance.” What the hell. How little does she think of me?
She stares at the floor. “Everyone has secrets, Kalen.”
“This is a big fucking secret don’t you think?”
Half lidded eyes lift and meet mine. “You said you had a big secret.”
I scoff, and shake my head. “My big secret was that I’d fallen in love with you, that I wanted more for us.”
She whimpers. “Kalen…”
“For the record, Sahara. After that night in the closet, I went to your house. I talked to one of your brothers and he told me you’d left for college.”
Her eyes grow big. “You came looking for me?”
“Yeah, I did. I liked what we did in that closet. I liked the way you reacted to my touch and I liked being touched by you. I wanted to explore that. I wanted to get to know that girl, and figure out why that night felt pretty fucking magical.” I take a step back. “All this time it was you. Keeping truths from me. Not trusting me enough, not having enough faith in me to believe I could like the quiet shy girl from high school. You think that little of me?”
“No…Kalen.” She sniffs. “I was going to tell you. I wanted to. I…after talking to Gina?—”
“Gina knows?” I burst out, my head spinning so fast I’m dizzy. “What the hell, Sahara.” I groan. “I guess now I know why she’s been avoiding me.” How horrible for Gina that she was put into this position, holding this in. I can’t imagine how awful this has been for her.
“She’s been avoiding you?”
“I can’t believe a friend has been dragged into your lies.” I shake my head. “You’re the one thing I hate in this life. A fraud. Pretending to be something you’re not.”
Her tears fall harder, and each drop rips my heart open a little bit more.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffles.
“Yeah, me too. Happy fucking Thanksgiving, Darien.” With that I walk out the door, get in my car, and get the fuck out of Dodge.