Page 90 of Cruel Dreams

“They seem like nice people,” he says, resting his forearms on the rail and staring out over the ocean view.

“Yeah, I guess they are.” Nothing is wrong, but I feel like I know Banks better than the woman who gave birth to me.

“I won’t fly out tomorrow, but probably the day after,” he says, studying me out of the corners of his eyes.

“I know you’re busy, and I don’t want to keep you.” I resist the urge to ask him to bring me back to King’s Crossing. He’s not going to the city, anyway, and my parents would be disappointed if I bailed on them without giving them a chance. I would be disappointed in myself. Since when have I ever backed out of anything because I was scared?

“You’re not. Whatever you need, Stella. I mean that. We owe you a great deal.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m just a little unsteady.”

“That’s normal. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to slow down, relax, and enjoy yourself. Can’t think of a better place to do it,” he says, tilting his head toward the beach. “Your parents live where people pay to vacation. Take advantage.”

I can tell he wants me to smile, so I do.

He pats my shoulder, and after another round of teary thank-yous and goodbyes, my dad and Banks leave.

My mom and I stand in the kitchen, and she’s so much like me but a stranger, too. She feels it and bites her lip.

“I don’t know anything about you.” She starts to cry.

“Oh, Mom,” I say.

Hearing me call her that, she cries harder, and any apprehension I had left melts away.

Banks leaves a couple of days later. He contacted a family services center, and a therapist agreed to come to my mom and dad’s condo three times a week to help us adjust and get to know each other. We talk about the past and how to navigate that loss,expectations and how to let them go, and the future. I always fall silent—I can’t plan a future without Zane in it.

My sister, who looks more like our dad than our mom, embraces me and sobs. I feel the same connection I did when I met Mom for the first time, the familiarity of a stranger, and I’m awed when she shoves my niece into my arms without a second thought. She trusts me to hold her baby and I’m barely an acquaintance.

On the beach, as the water laps at our feet and seagulls fly above us in a gunmetal grey sky, Addie stops me and brushes the hair out of my eyes. “But you’re not. You’re family.”

I start to cry, and I push my face into Ariel’s soft, fluffy blonde curls.

Because of her job, she can’t stay long, but I don’t mind. I’m still getting used to being Mom and Dad’s daughter and meeting my sister and listening to her stories of growing up with my ghost threatens to overwhelm me. I’m glad she didn’t bring her husband, my brother-in-law. I think that would have been too much in too short amount of time.

Four weeks into my visit on a quiet afternoon when Dad has an errand and my mom’s reluctantly meeting a friend for coffee, I settle onto my bed and call Zane. I miss him like crazy, and I want to hear his voice. We FaceTime, and I can see his office in the background.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice warm and rough.

“Hey,” I return softly, wanting to touch the screen, wanting to feel his whiskers under my fingertips. His hair is mussed, and his tie is loose around his neck. My Zane’s been working hard. “How are you doing?”

He sighs, opens his mouth to answer, then stops, and he smiles. “Great! Things are going good. Crazy as shit around here. All of Clayton’s and Ash’s businesses are still shut down and we’re scrambling to fill some holes. I had to reopen theCrowne...I wanted to keep it empty so Zarah could visit, but the demand was just too high. The sleeping rooms are booked solid for the next three years, and we’ve had actual fist fights in Banquets for the ballroom.”

“Thatiscrazy.” In a way, I’m glad I’m not there to watch the fallout of Clayton’s and Ash’s criminal activity, on the other hand, it would be nice to be Zane’s secretary again, help him in any way I can. Being locked up as Ash’s personal accountant was a horrible experience, but if it did anything, it kept my mind sharp. Where I fell behind in some things, pop culture, world news, I advanced in others. Ash always made sure I had the top software at my disposal and gave me the resources to learn how to use it. But Zane hired a more competent secretary, and he doesn’t need me now.

“We went to Max’s funeral,” he says. “Well, the memorial service. His brother and the rest of Max’s family weren’t kind. They blame us for his death, and we weren’t allowed to attend the church service. It hurt Zarah pretty badly.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” I liked Max, and I wish I could have been there to tell him how sorry I am that he died for a cause that meant so little. He wouldn’t see it that way, but I can understand why the Cooks don’t want anything to do with Zane.

He smiles, and his eyes soften. “Don’t be. Tell me about your mom and dad.”

I talk to him about staying up late with Mom, watching movies that happen to be both our favorites, our long walks on the beach. My sister welcoming me into the family, no questions asked. My dad, hesitant at first, then talking to me more and more. They retired early, and they don’t work. My sister couldn’t stay long and had to go back to Miami, and the three of us have settled into a routine of enjoying spending time together. I help my mom cook—an experience that means a lot to me as I often helped Maryanne in the kitchen—but we go out sometimes, too.

“Have you told them about Ash?”

I know he means the time I spent at Black Enterprises, and I shake my head. “No. I could barely explain how I hurt my wrist. They already feel horrible I grew up in foster care when they were alive and well and were able to love and take care of me. I told them about Maryanne, and how she helped me. I don’t want to burden them with too much at once.”

“I’m happy for you, Stella.” He says it quietly, and through our screens, I can feel him withdraw. He’s not going to ask me to come home. “I have a meeting in ten minutes, so I better go. Your birthday and the holidays are coming up. Enjoy them with your family.”

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