Torrid Exposure - Book 3

Chapter One THE WIND cuts through me like a knife. Even though it has been a hot summer, today is oddly chilly. As I walk out toward my car, I wish I had brought a sweater. The thought is an idle one. I would rather think about the cold than why I am out here. “April!” a voice calls out to me. I hesitate. For a brief moment, I want to ignore it. But I don’t want to look rude. I stop and look behind me. It is an older man coming up to me now. In his suit and tie, I cannot place him. I am sure I have seen him before. He looks at me fondly as though he remembers me from when I was a little girl. “April, I just wanted to tell you personally how sorry I am for the loss of your father,” the man says to me. “It is a huge loss to everyone who knew him.” “Thank you very much,” I say to him, the words tired of being repeated. He smiles kindly at me. “I’m going to your mother’s house for the wake. I’ll see you there, dear.” The man walks past me. I watch him go. I have heard so many condolences today at my father’s funeral that they are starting to blend together. They are sorry for my loss. My father was a great man. Everyone will miss him. I blink rapidly, suddenly realizing my eyes are tearing up. I don’t want to cry in front of all these strangers again. I cried when Dad’s casket was lowered but how could I not? How could it be that Dad was here just a few days ago and now he is gone? The last few days have felt like a blur. Spencer made the arrangements for the funeral because Mom went on a drinking binge right after he died. In spite of our bickering, I still reached out to Emily to tell her what was going on. She came back from where she had been with Adam as soon as she heard to be by my side, our fight forgotten. I hadn’t seen Bennett since the night he had come over saying he wanted to get away from his father. Spencer is waiting in the parking lot of the cemetery for Mom and me. I can see her now as I cut across the field, heading toward the parking lot. She is talking to Kevin. I don’t see Bennett. Their heads are bowed close together and they both have dark looks on their faces. Something strikes me... it looks exactly how they looked that day I saw them bickering outside the hospital. I find myself slowing down. Something is nagging me at the edge of my brain. It is as if something is trying to click into place. But between my grief and my stress, my brain is sluggish and slow to process anything. It is as if a fog has fallen across my brain. “Hey!” I look over to see Emily heading over to me. Whatever thoughts my brain was trying to assemble quickly vanish at the sight of her. “Hey,” I say back to her. “How’re you holding up?” “Okay, I guess,” I reply, although I don’t even know if I feel okay. Emily looks over her shoulder. “Your mom is talking to someone over there.” She juts her chin over in the direction of where my mom is. “She said I could ride with you guys back home for the wake.” “Great,” I reply, feeling relief at not being stuck in the limo with just Spencer and my mother. Emily looks at me and concern is clear on her face. “April... I’m really sorry again, about what happened to your father. I really thought he was going to get better.” “No one was expecting the seizure,” I tell her. “It happened quickly, at least. The seizure, plus the two strokes... it was all too much... he just...” My throat closes and I shrug, unable to say anything else. Emily wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I close my eyes and return it, trying to take comfort in the arms of my best friend. But I still feel empty and detached from everything going on around me. “He loved you,” she says in my ear. “He really did. I know when you backed out of the family business, Spencer and your mother didn’t understand. But he did.” “I know,” I reply, not wanting to cry. Our conversation is interrupted when I see Spencer walking up to us. She is wearing all black. Her hair is down and flowing over her shoulders. She isn’t wearing any make-up. Her skin is so pale that she looks sickly. There are bags underneath her eyes. I cannot remember the last time I saw Spencer with bags under her eyes. “Hey, sorry. We have to get going now,” she says to the two of us, her voice hollow. I nod and together we get into the limo. Mom is already seated inside. She looks worse than Spencer and me put together. She sits in the back, wearing a bulky sweater that clings to her small frame. Even though it is dark inside the limo, she leaves her sunglasses on, which seem to swallow up her face. Her hair is piled messily on top of her head. Her skin is sallow and her face is tilted toward the window, looking out of it. It is somewhat alarming to see Mom this way. Mom, who has always tended to drink a bit too much, always was able to keep it together. Now, however, one glance is all it takes to show that this is a woman who is letting control quickly slip through her fingers. She looks like a fragile broken doll at the back of the limo instead of a grieving widow. Once we are all settled in, the limo heads toward the house for the wake. Part of me wishes I didn’t have to stick around for it. It feels odd to stand around the house I no longer live in and discuss my father with business partners and people I do not know. My grief feels private and wholly my own. No one speaks during the drive there. Mom is staring outside the window. Spencer is silently looking at her hands. I do not feel like speaking either. Emily opens a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and drinks it quietly. The silence feels suffocating. It is grief mingled with broken relationships amongst all of us. I can’t stand it. I suddenly miss Dad more than ever. As if sensing my thoughts, Spencer’s eyes flick up to me. Our eyes meet. I wonder if she is thinking about a few days ago, when I came to her at the house, trying to patch things up. Dad’s words echo in my mind. Two sides of the same coin. I had promised him that Spencer and I would make up. Now that Dad is no longer here, I wonder if I will be able to keep that promise. It seemed impossible when I had sworn it. Now it feels as if it is my ultimate goal. Dad wants Spencer and me to be close sisters again. What do I have to do to make that happen? Do I have to simply let go of whatever happened that night of the accident and move on? Part of me wishes that I could. I just didn’t know how to start letting that go. Spencer finally looks away from me. I wonder what she is thinking about. As children, we were always on the same wavelength. Everything we did, it was on the same page. Now, I can’t make a bet on what my sister is thinking. “Spencer,” my mom suddenly stirs, speaking up, “did you talk to Brian at the funeral?” Brian, one of the investors who had alerted me that Dad’s business was in trouble, hadn’t bothered to glance at me at the funeral. Now that Dad is gone, Spencer is the one who has a firm reign on the company. I don’t envy her. When I first heard that the company was in trouble, I had gone crazy, wanting to figure out how to resolve it. It took Bennett to make me realize I was just projecting my own concerns onto the company when it was no longer my business. At the thought of Bennett, my thoughts grow more scattered. The boy I thought I had known has been replaced by a man I feel an intense pull toward. The billionaire playboy has hobbies that I never would have dreamt he would have had. It feels like a million years ago that Bennett had knocked on my door and had been upset about Kevin forcing him to basically fake-date Stephanie. “Yes,” Spencer replies, jarring me back to the present. “I did. Everything is under control. Don’t worry about it, Mom.” This seems to placate her. She leans back in the seat and looks out the window again. The limo makes a turn and before I know it, we are pulling up to the house. Last time I had been here; Dad was still alive. I can’t imagine going in the house now without him. The limo parks and we get out of it, heading toward the house. People are already here and inside. Spencer is quickly swept up in a business conversation with someone I’m dimly aware of who works for the company. Emily holds onto my arm as we step inside the foyer of the house. It is crowded. People who weren’t invited to the funeral due to space have been invited to the wake. The house is quiet. Classical music is playing. We trail into the living room. The memories of times with my dad threaten to overwhelm me. I wish the house were empty and that I could walk through it by myself. My throat feels closed. “Do you want anything to drink?” Emily whispers. “Water, please,” I manage to choke out. She nods, promises me she will be back soon, and heads off toward the kitchen. I position myself near one of the windows, focusing on where the trees meet the bright blue sky. I trace the outline of the trees, hoping it will calm me down. I feel nervous and jittery, as if I am on the verge of a panic attack. Emily returns with a glass of water and says, “This place is crowded. Your mom is talking to someone in the kitchen and is already hitting the wine.” Her voice is casual but I know what she is saying. It is only a matter of time until mom is too drunk to function. People will excuse it today. She is grieving, after all. But Emily knows what I know. Mom was already drinking increasingly when Dad was alive. Now that he is gone, what will stop her from going over the edge? “April,” Emily says to me and runs her fingers through her hair, “I’m sorry about... us fighting... about Adam and everything.” The fact she is dating Adam again and hid it from me feels so small and pointless that I have barely thought about it since she came home. “Emily,” I say, my voice sounding distant, “I have to tell you something too.” “What?” “I’ve slept with Bennett. Twice.” Emily looks alarmed at this. I can’t tell if she is alarmed at the fact that I have slept with Bennett, or that I have neglected to tell her, or that I am telling her now, of all times. She steps toward me and takes hold of my arm. Her voice is barely above a whisper now. “April, what? Like... after your father died? Because I understand... you’re emotional and everything is upsetting...” I appreciate the fact she is trying to give me a way out but I shake my head. “No. The day after the summer party and one of the nights you were working late... or seeing Adam, I guess.” Her eyes are as wide as saucers. If I didn’t feel so empty, I would have found it funny. How could Emily not be surprised? Bennett and I had never gotten along. Now here I am telling her that we have slept together twice. “Oh,” she says, looking lost. “Are you... I mean, like, dating? Isn’t he seeing that Stephanie woman? I didn’t know...” “We aren’t seeing each other. I don’t know what we are doing,” I admit. Saying it out loud feels strangely liberating. It is true. I don’t know what Bennett and I are doing. Even though I have stepped away from the money and the company, I still find myself in Bennett’s circle. When I am around him, I cannot help but feel drawn to him. The revelations about him have changed how I thought about him before. Bennett is like quicksand... the more I struggle to get away from him, the more I feel myself fall deeper. Emily blinks. “You don’t know?” “No,” I confirm. “It’s confusing at the moment.” “I’m just surprised, that’s all,” she says. “I mean, obviously, who you sleep with is totally your own judgment but...” I know what she is thinking. Emily doesn’t want to cast any judgment on me because she knows we just fought about her dating Adam again. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m not really thinking about it right now.” Our conversation is interrupted by a long train of people giving me their condolences. Most of the people I have spoken to over the years in passing, that is, until I opted out of ever working in the family business. There is one person that I see on the opposite side of the room that I want to speak to, however. James is here. I had seen him briefly at the funeral but he seemed to be keeping a low profile. Even though he quit the company shortly before Dad’s death, I know that he is hurting as much as I am. He adored my father. Excusing myself from a conversation with two people I barely recall meeting a few years ago, I head across the room toward him. Emily watches me leave but doesn’t go after me. James is hovering by a plate of finger sandwiches, although he hasn’t taken one. “James, hi,” I say to him. He looks up at me. He appears to have aged forty years since I last saw him. His face is etched with lines and he is going gray. Even so, his smile lights up his face at seeing me. “April. A pleasure to see you.” “Same here. Been a while,” I tell him, taking one of the finger sandwiches and nibbling on it. He follows my lead, taking one as well, and together we trail away from the table and out of the main living room. We end up in one of the smaller sitting areas where Dad kept some of his books. There is only a small group of people here across from us. We sit down on a couch. “I’m crushed by the death of Richard,” James says softly. “I don’t think I need to explain why.” “No, you don’t. Dad always spoke very highly of you. He loved you like a brother.” My throat feels tight again and I look down at the small sandwich in my hand. James sighs. “I feel as if I abandoned him at the end. Quitting like that. I should have stuck around... maybe...” “Maybe, what? He wouldn’t have had that seizure? You can’t start thinking like that,” I say firmly. “There was nothing you could have done. Dad didn’t even know you quit. He wasn’t exactly all there at the end.” James looks at me. His eyes look grey, like stormy seas. “Thank you. I hope in time that lessens the guilt I feel.” A few days ago, if I had a chance to speak to James, I would have tried to grill him about the status of the company. Why did he quit? What was my mom meddling about? But today, I cannot find the energy. It is Spencer’s problem now. “Richard was a great man. I hated leaving. I hope you know that. I tried to tell your sister that I didn’t want to leave. They wanted me to take over, you know. Help Spencer learn the ropes in case your father passed away. But I couldn’t.” “Spencer should be okay,” I tell him. “Maybe...,” he hesitates. “I’d feel better if Kevin wasn’t her mentor though, to be honest.”