Chapter Thirteen – Kendall
“Can I have three knives, Aunt Kendall?”
Axel’s question sounded innocent enough, but it still gave Kendall pause and she lifted a brow, momentarily abandoning her salad prep. “What for?”
“‘Cause I’m bored and I want to show those two bitch ass babies how to stab a motherfucker.” Axel folded his arms and huffed. “I was happy making my flour cake and rolls until they tipped the bowl over.”
And created a mess that took an hour to clean.
The hustle and bustle of the day, the chaos of the kids, kept Kendall’s heartache at bay. Though it had been her idea for Meggie to take a break for a few days, Kendall’s role began as one to support her friend. She never expected it to turn into a question mark on her own return to the club.
“The knives, Aunt Kendall.”
“Sorry, love,” she said. “Knives are dangerous, so you may not have them.” She slid from the stool and went to the wine cooler, pulling out a very good chardonnay. “Why don’t you wash up for dinner?”
“You’re not asking me where Blade and Gunner are?”
“With Harley, Roxy, and Zoann.” Hiding a smile, Kendall opened her bottle of wine and swigged. “Do you want to help me with the salad?” she asked once she swallowed.
“Dinner is already late,” Axel grumbled. “Do we got to have salad?”
“I’m afraid so.” She swigged again. “You don’t like tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, radishes, carrots, and avocados?”
Cocking his head to the side, Axel glanced from her to the wine. “Diesel never drinks from a big bottle like that ‘cause it’s wine. You’re supposed to have a glass.”
“According to Johnnie too.”
He stiffened and snapped his brows together. “I’m not that motherfucker,” he spat, infusing his little voice with a surprising amount of hostility.
“Please don’t disrespect your uncle.”
“It’s not my fucking fault he’s my uncle and I’m a man who only gives respect to a motherfucker who gives it back to me. And your man gives it to nobody. Not even himself.”
“You have a few years to go before you’re a man, honey.”
“By numbers. Uncle Johnnie reached that a loooonnnnnggggg time ago but his brain never caught up.”
Laughing, Kendall drank again.
“Why are you drinking from the bottle? Do I need to call Mom for an intercession?”
“An intervention?”
Folding his arms, he glared at her. “Would every motherfucker stop correcting me and listen to what I got to say?”
“Are you calling me a motherfucker?”
“Do I need to write the definition of context clues?”
Unable to help herself, she laughed again. “Are you calling your mother a motherfucker?”
“That woman’s a saint, so she’s exempt. She can correct me for the rest of my days.”
Kendall nodded. “Agreed.”
“Sustained?”
She’d almost forgotten how obsessed with the law Axel was. “Sustained,” she amended, then returned to her stool, still gripping the neck of the bottle.
“When I get my law degree, can I join the firm with you and Diesel?”
“I don’t see why not.” Although, if she left, it wouldn’t be her decision. “The firm will benefit from a young man so intelligent and passionate about the legal profession.”
“Oh boy!” Hooping and hollering, he jumped up and down. A small plume of flour wafted from him and she squinted. “Thanks, Aunt Kendall!”
“You’re welcome,” she said, distracted by the dusting of flour landing on his clothes. He must not have showered as Meggie instructed. “Uh, dinner was delayed because Georgie and Brynn left earlier than planned.”
“Mom has her boot thing on. She shouldn’t drive.”
“She rode in the car they hired to see them off. Allowing us use of their plane was a big deal. Anyway, honey, you can always find another outfit.”
“I already changed,” he said dismissively, then climbed onto one of the stools on the other side of the island. “But as the man of the house for now, I got to talk to you.”
Draining the bottle, Kendall returned to slicing the tomato. “As long as you don’t mind my slight distraction,” she said, humoring him.
“Do you know what a context clue is?”
“A hint about an unfamiliar word.”
“Close enough. In my particular case, context clues are telling me you’re drinking out of the bottle for a reason.”
“I didn’t feel like getting a glass.”
“See, Mom doesn’t feel like doing a lot when she’s mad at Dad because he’s a stupid motherfucker or sad because he’s a mean motherfucker. And since Uncle Johnnie is both mean and stupid every day, context clues tell me you’re upset over him.”
Kendall pasted a smile on her lips. “Thank you so much for your concern, love. I’m fine. Truly. But I don’t talk to my children about adult things, so–”
“Am I your child, Aunt Kendall? Besides, if you had somebody to talk to, you wouldn’t be drinking from a bottle all by yourself.”
“Thank you for–”
“And if you were really here for Mom, you would’ve been with her when she was crying in the middle of the night.
And-and I came to get you but you were crying too.
” Drumming his fingers on the countertop, he narrowed his green eyes.
“Dad and your man are related, so it stands to reason neither of them have a lot of sense and then they’re both so old.
Senility is probably eating away their brain. ”
“Do you know I’ll be forty-seven in September?”
“They’ve lived a rough life then. Btw, in Medieval times, you probably would’ve been long dead. Forty-seven was elderly.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Uh huh. That’s what a man of the house does for his women. Is it working?”
Not in the least. “I’m feeling much better,” she said brightly, finished with the tomato and starting on the cucumber.
“Don’t be sad over Uncle Johnnie. He’s a fuckface traitor that torments Mom and doesn’t deserve you and Mattie, but Mom still loves Dad. And anytime Aunt Ophelia can love Uncle Cash, you shouldn’t feel bad about Uncle Johnnie.”
“Sweetheart, Cash is…” Kendall didn’t know what to say. She’d heard all about the protest and the graffiti, although she wasn’t sure of the exact origins of Axel’s beef with Cash McCall. “I think you’ve misunderstood–”
“I got eyes, ears, and a brain,” Axel inserted. “But we’re not talking about him. My least favorite subject other than art. We’re talking about you, my fourth favorite girl relative after Mom, Reb, and Lolly.” He pursed his lips. “I guess you and Lolly will have to move down a spot ‘cause of Jo.”
“I guess so,” Kendall agreed gravely.
“Mom told Dad if she didn’t love him so much, she’d divorce him.”
The words shocked Kendall into speechlessness. Even though Axel looked at her with expectation, she couldn’t think of a response.
“She don’t want to leave him, though. I heard her talking to Lolly a little while ago.”
“Meggie loves your father,” Kendall managed, although the words felt hollow.
“Yeah, ‘cause she puts up with a lot from that motherfucker.” Axel looked at her with meaning. “And you don’t got to tell me about any of the stuffs Uncle Johnnie does. He’s him, so I know you put up with a lot too.”
The Caldwell boys despised her husband. He’d brought it on himself, but it still saddened Kendall.
“Now, I got some questions for you, Aunt Kendall.”
Setting her knife aside and abandoning the salad, Kendall nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Does Uncle Johnnie beat you?”
Not physically, but mentally he was punishing her. “Of course not.”
“Yeah, well, he don’t raise his hands to Mom, but that motherfucker uses his mouth to beat her,” Axel grumbled, “so I say he does it to you, too.”
Kendall sighed, surprised at Axel’s astuteness.
“Does he call you names?”
“What do you mean by names?” she hedged.
“That’s a yes. Dad calls Mom names when he’s really angry. Does Uncle Johnnie ever apologize?”
Rarely. “Of course, love. You have nothing to worry–”
“Objection. You’re speaking out of turn. Does Uncle Johnnie do nice things for you?”
It had been a long time. “At least once a month.”
“You can be imprisoned for life for fraud if you don’t tell the truth.”
“Perjury is a serious crime, which is what false statements under oath are called. Not fraud.”
“Oh. You still did it.”
“Can you prove it?” she challenged. Her children appreciated her profession but none of them were as enamored as Axel. “You have no exhibits to back up your theory.”
His green eyes sparkling, he grinned. “Strong circumstances evidence is enough.”
“Circumstantial,” she corrected, ignoring his scowl. “Based on?”
“Knowledge of the criminal.”
“Johnnie, I assume.”
“Like Uncle Cash,” Axel confirmed. “Strike one for Uncle Johnnie, Aunt Kendall. Perjuring to hide his motherfuckery isn’t allowed. You have to be honest.”
“Axel–”
“If someone was being mean to Mattie, you’d expect her to be honest, wouldn’t you?” he asked impatiently.
“Yes, but that’s different, so–”
“I will impose a fine if you continue to try to say anything other than what I ask you.”
Kendall wasn’t sure why she continued humoring the boy, especially when she wouldn’t allow her own kids to talk to her with such disrespect. Her nephew was a charmer, though, and quite entertaining.
“Would you like a recess to help your thoughts, counsellor?” Axel asked with the seriousness of a little judge.
“Diesel has been educating you?” she guessed.
“Yeah,” Axel said proudly. “On law stuffs and Medieval stuffs.”
“I applaud him for choosing such an apt student.”
Axel grinned. “Thank you, Aunt Kendall. When I was a little kid, Mom took me to watch Diesel on his first case helping you. He didn’t do much, but Mom and me talked all the way home about how much brilliance you had. I started liking the law ‘cause of you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Kendall murmured, touched. For some stupid reason, tears pooled in her eyes. “That means so much to me.”
Sliding down from his stool, Axel rushed around the island and ran to her side, throwing his arms around her. “Don’t cry, Aunt Kendall. If I got to, I’ll blow up Uncle Johnnie first and make a new bomb for Uncle Cash.”
Kendall blinked and pulled away to look at her nephew. “Excuse me?” she said weakly.
“Dad says to prior…priori…uh–”
“Prioritize?”