When You Got A Good Thing

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

BY THE TIME THE Uber dropped her off at the house—and she was deliberately not thinking about how much that ride from the airport actually cost her—Kennedy was so far past exhausted, she felt practically out of body. She hadn’t felt right bothering her sisters for a ride, and she was used to finding her own way from one point to another. When one of her flights was canceled and another delayed for weather, it had taken a series of planes, trains, and automobiles to get her from the west coast of Ireland back Stateside. Her luggage was—somewhere else, and she was a day later than planned, cutting it so close that she’d ended up finding funeral attire in a shop in the Amsterdam airport. The long-sleeved, jersey dress was simple and unadorned. Perhaps not as nice as she’d have chosen had she had any time to prepare, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least it was the appropriate color.

Kennedy didn’t recognize any of the vehicles in the drive. And why should she? She’d left this place at eighteen and hadn’t come back. In that time, they could have made a thousand and one changes and she wouldn’t have been any the wiser. Would it still feel like home without Mom here to fill it with her big, boisterous personality? Heart in her throat, Kennedy climbed the steps. The third one still squeaked. That tiny, familiar detail made her ache. At the door, she hesitated, wondering if she should knock or ring the bell of this place that had once been hers. Deciding that smacked too much of cowardice, she tried the knob. It turned beneath her hand, and she stepped inside.

Her irrational fear that everything had changed abated as she took in the living room. Same overstuffed sofas. Same gallery of pictures. Kennedy even recognized some of the tchotchkes she’d sent her mom over the years, set around for decoration. The omnipresent scent of her mother’s coffee and the low murmur of voices pulled her toward the kitchen and the center of the home she’d left so long ago. Kennedy didn’t realize how much she’d expected Joan to be seated at the big farmhouse table, hands wrapped around one of her favorite mugs, until the sight of the empty chair sucker punched her in the gut, ripping right through the emotional numbness of exhaustion.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

At the acerbic tone, Kennedy looked over at her sister Athena. She stood by the counter, her long brown hair caught up in the same utilitarian bun Kennedy knew she wore daily to keep it out of the way in her restaurant kitchen. Kennedy didn’t brook offense at the hard set of Athena’s jaw and the glint in her dry eyes. She well knew Athena didn’t do upset. She didn’t cry. She got pissed and bit at whoever the most convenient target happened to be. Her kitchen staff had probably been on the receiving end of a fit worthy of Gordon Ramsey when she got the news about Joan.

“Enough. We’ll have none of that today.” Maggie, the middle Reynolds daughter and a year younger than Kennedy, looked calm and in control in her neat black suit, her pale blonde hair pulled back in a tidy chignon, with a strand of pearls at her throat. The very picture of the consummate professional woman she’d become.

“You made it.” Pru hurried over, immediately enfolding Kennedy in a hug that had the tears threatening again. “I was beginning to worry.”

She fought for control, hanging on to Pru for all she was worth. “So was I. My luggage may end up in Sri Lanka, but I’m here.”

“Have you eaten?” Pru asked.

The very thought of food made Kennedy’s stomach turn. “Can’t.”

“Coffee, then.” Without waiting for an answer, Pru went to pour her a mug.

Not knowing what else to do, Kennedy set her carry-on down and dropped her purse.

Maggie hesitated, something rippling over her face before she crossed the room and folded Kennedy into a hug. It wasn’t so long or warm as Pru’s, but it was so much more than Kennedy had expected. Of all of her sisters, Maggie had the most reason to hate her.

“The car will be here in a couple of hours to pick us up.”

Another car, this one to the very last place Kennedy wanted to go. But there was no running or hiding from this. Accepting the coffee, she asked, “So what’s the plan?”

“Visitation at Kavanaugh’s from one to two, then a graveside service,” Maggie explained.

“After that, it’s back here for food. We’re expecting a big crowd. A lot of Mom’s fosters are coming in, thanks to Xander,” Pru said. “He made all the calls.”

Kennedy considered it a minor miracle she didn’t choke on her coffee. Something akin to panic crawled up her spine and shot her heart rate through the roof. Of course Xander Kincaid was still in Eden’s Ridge. Exactly where his father thought he was supposed to be. Why should that have changed?

But she hadn’t prepared herself for the possibility of seeing him. Not really. Her entire focus had been on getting home for the funeral. Consciously deepening her breath, she worked to slow her heart and tamp down the anxiety, keeping her tone even. “That was kind of him. I’m sure everyone wants to pay their respects.”

Why, exactly, was Xander helping her sister out with funeral arrangements? Wasn’t that the kind of thing you did for a significant other?

And why should you care? You walked away and gave up any right to feel jealousy over who Xander’s with. But the chiding did nothing to stem the quick prick of resentment at the idea that he’d moved on to her sister, of all people. Pru was exactly the kind of woman Xander needed. Rooted here and focused on home and hearth. Not a screwup with itchy feet and no plan for the future. Any guy would be lucky to have her.

“Kennedy?”

How long had Pru been speaking? “What?”

“Bless your heart, I know you’re exhausted. I said there’s time for you to grab a shower, if you want. I know you’ve been on the go for a few days now.”

That probably meant she looked as bad as she felt. There was only so much she could do to make herself presentable in an airport bathroom or service station. “A shower would be great.”

“I’ve put you in your old room. There are fresh towels in the cabinet in the bathroom. I’m sure we can…” She trailed off as the slow, mournful notes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” began to sound. “Ari.”

They all listened in silence as the girl poured out her grief at the piano, wringing every last drop of emotion from the instrument. Joan had said the child was gifted, but Kennedy had never imagined this. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the music shattered the last vestiges of her control, unleashing the devastation she’d pushed to the side just to get here. By the time the last note faded, they were all crying, save Athena, who looked ready to punch something.

Pru wiped at her eyes. “It’s the first time she’s left her room in three days. I think she’s afraid that if she leaves the house, social services will take her away.”

Maggie went ramrod straight. “Have they threatened to?”

“No. Mae knows this is devastating. She’s not going to rock the boat right now. So I’m her guardian until something more permanent can be decided on.”

“Permanent like what?” Athena asked.

Pru shrugged. “I don’t know. I think Mae’s been putting out feelers to see if she can track down Ari’s birth parents. She didn’t have any luck when Sofia—Ari’s grandmother—passed away, but with this… She doesn’t want to leave any stone unturned.”

“Poor kid,” Athena muttered. “No wonder she’s terrified.”

As Beethoven rolled into Debussy, Kennedy tried to imagine what she’d have done in Ari’s shoes. Her mother had taken off when Kennedy was only seven. Her dad had done his best for a while, taking her on the road in his eighteen wheeler as he trucked across country. But even he’d given up on the parenting gig after a while, announcing that it’d been a good run, but it just wasn’t working anymore. She’d been twelve when he dumped her into the system, nearly thirteen by the time she’d come to Joan, saddled with the kiss-of-death moniker of “troubled.” If there’d been even a whiff of a possibility that they’d send her back to her father, she wouldn’t have hesitated before bolting.

“We have to do something.” Kennedy wiped at her own eyes. “We have to make her feel safe and protected, like Mom did. We all know what it feels like to have the rug pulled out from under us. She has enough to deal with without adding worry that she’s going to get thrown back into the system. We have to look after her. It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.”

Athena turned from the window. “You’re hardly in a position to know what Mom wanted.”

Kennedy absorbed the blow, biting back the protest that rose in her throat. She was too tired to fight with Athena. Too tired to fight with any of them. And what could she really say? She hadn’t been here. That none of them knew the true reason why hardly mattered. She still couldn’t explain. The fact was, it had been a risk coming back here, even now.

“Kennedy’s not wrong,” Maggie said. “Mom considered Ari another daughter. The fact that the legal paperwork didn’t get finished before she died was just a formality. That makes her our sister. And that means we fight for her.”

A little of the tension leeched away. They’d fight. So sayeth Maggie. Nothing short of God himself would dare go against her.

“There will be time to figure it out after today,” Pru said. “The music’s stopped. Maybe she’ll finally eat something. I’ll go see.”

Feeling raw and wanting some space, Kennedy scooped up her carry-on and purse. “I’m gonna get that shower now.”