Homecoming - Chapter 6 #2
The tea kettle started whistling. Kennedy wiped her eyes and ran to the stove before the noise could wake Jacob. Her hand shook as she poured us each a cup of tea.
But she didn’t turn back around. She pressed her hands onto the counter, like she was trying to hold herself upright.
I stood up and put my arm around her back.
“No one deserves as much pain as you’ve been through.
No one. Especially someone as kindhearted as you.
You don’t deserve this.” She grabbed a paper towel and blew her nose.
She choked out a laugh. “And you’re not supposed to be comforting me.
I should be the one comforting you.” She grabbed the two teacups.
“Come on. Sit down. You need to fill in some blanks for me.”
I sat back down and took a sip of tea.
“Do you want to tell me about Miller and your life with him? Or…is it…”
I shook my head. “I can’t talk about him right now.”
“Okay.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “How much does Jacob know? I mean…does he know about what happened to his father?”
“He saw the car explode.” I wished he hadn’t. I desperately wished he hadn’t witnessed all of it.
“Puta mierda,” Kennedy said and looked up at the ceiling, blinking fast. “I feel like my heart is breaking.”
“Jacob was so brave.” I puffed up my cheeks and exhaled slowly, trying to make myself not cry. “I’m so proud of him. If it wasn’t for him, I’m sure I’d be sitting in jail right now.”
“Are…are you sure Miller’s dead?”
I nodded. I was positive. But I knew why she asked. Because I was sitting here very much alive and she’d thought I was dead too.
“He’s not going to come back in 16 years with a crazy story like this?”
I laughed, even though it was forced. “No. He…he’s gone.” The words made the knife in my chest twist again.
She lifted up the letter again and scanned the last few lines a second time. “So…did you do it? Did you kill your father like the letter said you were going to?”
I felt like a coward. A failure. “I couldn’t.”
“Because you’re not a killer, Brooklyn. Do you really think the cops are after you? You really think they would believe you did this to your own husband?”
“My dad said he paid off local law enforcement. That I’m in the clear. But I don’t believe anything he says. He also swore he didn’t do it. And I don’t know what to believe.”
“Well, where was he when it happened?”
“He didn’t say. He just said he’d never hurt me because he loved me.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t hurt you.” She waved the letter in the air. “He killed your husband.”
“The bomb was in my car though.”
“What?” She scanned the letter again.
“I didn’t put that in there. I know how confusing it all is. I’d parked behind Miller the night before. He was moving my car so he could drive his. I was supposed to die. Not him.” My voice cracked.
“Oh my God.”
“My father said it was some rival family or something. The Locatellis. That their signature was on the bomb.”
“Their signature?” She exhaled slowly. “And suddenly we’re in a crime show.”
“Yeah I know.”
“I know I’m missing a lot of details, but you don’t believe your father, do you? He locked you up for almost a year before you escaped. He’s a psychopath.”
“I don’t…I don’t know. He swore he’d never hurt me…”
“He stole your fucking kidney!” Her eyes grew round and she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Shoot,” she whispered and looked over at Jacob who had started to stir. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. He’ll be a little more alert this morning and I can’t wait for you to really meet him.
” I turned back to her. “I have to step out in a couple hours though. I’m meeting up with my dad for lunch to try to get more answers.
I don’t think I’ll be long.” I just wanted to get this over with.
Hear whatever lame alibi Poppy had. And then I’d figure out my next move.
“No. No way are you going to meet up with him again alone. I’m coming with you.”
“But Jacob…”
“My mom will watch Jacob.”
“Kennedy, I don’t want to pull you into this mess. I shouldn’t have even come here. I don’t want to put you in danger too…”
“Brooklyn,” she said, very sternly. “You are not doing this alone. Because you don’t have to. You have me.”
Tears pulled in my eyes. My uncle had said something similar to me all those years ago. A few doors down the hall from this very spot. You have me. “Thanks, Kennedy. But I’m not going to put anyone else at risk.” I was so tired of losing everyone I loved. I was just so damned tired.
“I’m making the choice myself. I’m coming with you to this evil luncheon with daddy dearest,” she said and put her pinky in the air as she took a sip of tea.
I couldn’t help but laugh. That was the Kennedy I knew and loved. I wiped the remaining tears out of my eyes. “You look really happy by the way,” I said. “I’m so glad you’re good.”
The smile fell from her face, but only for a second. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I have a lot to catch you up on.”
“Sixteen years’ worth of stuff.”
“Mhm.”
“And I want to hear all of it. What college was like, what you’re up to now. All of it.”
But it would have to wait because Jacob was up. He shoved the worn blanket off of him. He looked a little bewildered as he looked around. But then his eyes spotted mine and a smile spread across his face. He jumped off the couch and ran over to me.
I lifted him onto my lap. “Good morning, sweet boy.” I kissed his cheek. “Do you remember Mommy’s friend from last night? Kennedy.”
He shook his head and tried to tuck his head under my arm.
“He’s a little shy,” I said. “Jacob, look at me.”
He stopped squirming and looked up. I peppered his face in kisses until he was laughing. “This is my best friend. You’re going to love her too, I promise.”
“Noooo.”
“Jacob,” I said with a laugh.
He ducked under my arm again.
“It’s okay,” Kennedy said. “I have stranger danger too.” She scooted her chair back. “Don’t you dare get close to me, Stranger Jacob.”
He giggled when she pushed her chair back again.
“Does the little stranger want some breakfast?” she asked.
He smiled from his hiding spot. “Cuppycakes.”
I bit my lip. I’d been giving him whatever he wanted to eat. I’d really dropped the ball on the healthy eating because we both needed comfort food. “Is that okay if I whip up some cupcakes real quick?” I asked. “He loves them.”
“For breakfast?” Kennedy asked.
“Just…for now.”
She nodded. “Well, we probably have everything you need for normal cupcakes. But not granola flax seed cupcakes or whatever weird healthy thing you do to them.”
“I actually just make normal cupcakes.”
“No way,” Kennedy said with a smile. “With sugar and white flour and everything? That’s so unlike you.”
I laughed. “I know. Jacob gives me and his father plenty of exercise.” I pressed my lips together at the mention of Miller.
“I bet.” Kennedy smiled down at Jacob. “So…cuppycakes for breakfast?”
“Cuppycakes!” Jacob yelled and ducked out from under my arm. He seemed significantly less scared now that cuppycakes were going to be made.
“Jacob is my little helper in the kitchen,” I said.
I stood up and plopped him back down in my seat.
I started humming as I pulled ingredients out of the fridge and pantry.
It only took me a few minutes to whip up some vanilla cupcakes with homemade cream cheese icing.
I felt more like myself than I had in weeks as I poured the batter into the cupcake tin.
I was even humming. I touched my throat after I closed the oven door.
For just a second, after everything that happened, I felt a slice of normalcy.
I turned around to see Kennedy’s chair pulled up to Jacob’s. He was drawing something for her, pointing at it and describing what it was.
I was humming and baking. And my son was smiling and laughing.
Guilt wrapped around my chest. I remembered feeling this way before. All those years ago whenever I’d been happy after my mom’s death. And my uncle’s. And when Matt broke my heart. I felt guilty for being happy all those times.
I exhaled slowly. I’d never be as happy as when Miller was here. But I’d never feel guilty for my son’s smiles or laughter. Never. And I never wanted him to feel that same pain I did. I never wanted him to feel guilty for living. I wanted him to keep smiling just like this forever.
He gave me hope that we could get through this. Together. It still felt like my heart was shattered. But I was wrong when I thought I’d never have a home again. Because Kennedy’s place had always felt like home to me.
I had planned on running after speaking to my dad. But now I was rethinking all of it.