Chapter 35
Chapter 35
“I can’t tell you how grateful I was to see you pull up to Romano’s that night,” Jenna said, fingernails digging into Calvin’s arm.
He tried to shake her off, but the woman had a grip of steel. He grimaced at her. “Just doin’ my job, Ms. Deacon.”
“Jenna,” she corrected.
Inclining his head, Calvin glanced over the room, looking for—there. Daphne stood next to Harry, the two of them staring at their phones. Daphne’s shoulders were tight. She looked miserable.
Guilt gurgled in Calvin’s stomach. He’d gotten caught up in self-pity as he’d watched the ceremony, thinking of all the commitments his mother had failed to keep with him. But as he’d watched, he’d seen true happiness light his mother’s face. He wanted to be the type of man who could forgive her, who could be happy for her.
Ceecee loved her mother, and from what Calvin had witnessed, Eileen doted on her like any loving mom would. There was none of the neglect or pain that he’d experienced.
She was young when she had him. She’d failed him, yes, but she was human. Just like him. He’d failed plenty of times, and now he was here, trying to be better.
As he’d watched his mother sway in her husband’s arms, Calvin remembered the way his father would sweep her around the kitchen when he got home from work. The memory slammed into him and rocked him onto his heels. His mother would laugh and laugh; then she’d turn to Calvin and pick him up. His father would wrap his arms around the two of them, and the house was a place of joy and comfort and family.
He remembered the way she’d held him after the funeral, the way he’d heard her cry through her bedroom door for weeks afterward.
And, as Archie Sr. twirled her in his arms and beamed at his wife, Calvin remembered the way he’d hated her for it. She’d always emerged from her room with dry eyes and a too-bright smile on her face, and Calvin had resented it all—her secret grief and her attempts to pretend it didn’t exist. He’d resented the way she held him, because she wasn’t Dad, and she wasn’t being honest with him. He’d pushed her away. He remembered tense car rides. Slammed doors and shouted words.
Their family had fallen apart, and his mother had sought solace elsewhere. She’d flitted from man to man, married and divorced, and Calvin’s bitterness had crowded out every other emotion. But when she’d stopped trying to reach him entirely, he’d hated that most of all.
Maybe her many olive branches were just that. Offers of peace. A fresh start.
If only he could let go of the last of his resentments and accept it.
It would feel good to forgive his mother. A weight would lift off his shoulders, that heavy burden he’d carried with him for close to thirty years. They’d never have a normal mother-son relationship, but maybe they could have something else. They could care for Ceecee and get to know each other. There could be mutual respect.
If he could just trust that Eileen was being honest. That she really had changed as much as he had.
Consumed by thoughts of the past, he’d missed what was going on with Daphne. And now she was across the room, and he was being held in place by a woman who had a bionic claw for a hand.
“You know, even though we didn’t speak much in high school, I always thought there was something special about you,” Jenna said.
Her perfume was cloying, and Calvin breathed through his mouth as he nodded. His gaze was still on Daphne, who was speaking to Harry. There was a wrinkle between Daphne’s brows, and she had that look on her face like she was overthinking. “Hmm?” Calvin said to Jenna, his entire attention focused on the other side of the room.
“I knew you’d do big things,” she crooned.
Daphne took a deep breath, deep enough that even from a distance, Calvin could see her chest rise and fall. Beside her, Harry straightened, thumping her cane on the ground once as she faced Daphne.
Calvin’s instincts screamed. It was like a million ants crawling over his skin. A claw raking down his spine.
Something was happening, and he didn’t know what it was.
Daphne had hidden something from him, just like his mother had hidden herself away in her room. There was a fracture between them he hadn’t noticed before. A thread of panic wound its way through his chest, circling his lungs in tighter and tighter bands.
“And I was just so sad to hear that you’d left the island,” Jenna continued, shuffling so close that her breast pressed against Calvin’s arm.
Frowning down at her, he tried to shake her off. “It was a long time ago,” he said.
“Still. I’m happy you’re back.” Her free hand came up to rest on his chest, and Calvin tried to move out of the way. His back hit the wall, and Jenna shifted in front of him. She smiled. “I know you’re here with Daphne, but maybe—”
A crash shattered through the air, and all heads turned toward the sound. Calvin’s head snapped up to where Daphne had stood a moment before, but both she and Harry had disappeared.
That’s when the screaming started.