Page 83 of The Kings of Kearny

Those questions unraveled when we walked in the door, and Jakob said to his father, “We need to talk about why Redding is really here.”

Liam’s shoulders had stiffened, regret and steely resolve apparent in his expression. If that wasn’t a look of guilt, I’d eat my shoe.

“Krista,” Gran said.

I turned to her. “Hmm?”

“That was your favorite line, and you didn’t even laugh. What’s going on?” she asked.

I sighed. “Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

She cocked a brow at me. “Honey, it ain’t even suppertime yet.”

“I know, but it’s still been a long day.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Raised voices sounded from down the hall, and I shook my head. If we paused the movie, she might hear everything the Larsons said, and she didn’t need to be dragged back into this shit show.

“You sure?” she asked. “You look like a woman who needs to get something off her chest.”

“I’m sure. Just tired. I promise.” The lie rankled, and something in my face must have betrayed my true feelings because worry creased Gran’s brow.

She patted the couch cushion beside her. “Why don’t you lie down next to me, like you used to,” she said, “and I’ll pet your hair.”

I must have looked as bad as I felt. When I was little, Gran used to read to me every night before bed, running her fingers through my hair or lightly scratching my back until I fell asleep. It was a nighttime ritual that always made me feel safe and loved at a time when there was so much instability in my life. She’d stopped when I got to middle school and proclaimed I was too grown-up to be read to like a baby. Only in times of extreme hardship did she offer to pet my hair now, her way of comforting me when there wasn’t much else she could do to help me out of whatever trouble I got myself into. The last time she offered, I’d been waking up from surgery. If I accepted her now, she’d know things were really bad, but after the past few days, I desperately needed something familiar, needed to feel safe and loved, if only for a few stolen moments.

I nodded and lay down, resting my head on a throw pillow next to her thigh. Her fingers slipped into my hair, combing through the long strands, and I closed my eyes and let my mind drift back to simpler times when the only things I got worked up about were when she made me go to bed on time or limited my TV intake. She had a great one-liner about cartoons and brain rot that I used to roll my eyes at, but I was totally stealing it if I ever got around to having kids of my own.

I must have drifted off, the sleep deprivation of the past couple of nights finally catching up with me, because the next time I opened my eyes, darkness had fallen. Gran was gone. The sound of plates clinking over marble and the smell of sizzling meat drifted from the kitchen. Somewhere close, Molly let out a lowwoof.

Jakob strode into view and crouched down in front of me. The lights were still off in the living room, no doubt because Gran wanted to let me sleep, and what little illumination graced Jakob’s body shone from the kitchen, bathing him half in light, half in darkness. Fitting.

His eyes gleamed like quicksilver when they met mine, and he lifted a hand and pushed the hair back from my face, his fingers lingering, tracing the back of my ear, before falling away.

“How’d it go?” I whispered.

In answer, he frowned and shook his head. I knew from the yelling that it hadn’t started great, but I’d hoped things improved while I napped. Guess not.

“I’m sorry,” I told him.

“Me too,” he said.

Both of our words were heavy with meaning. I didn’t know what weighted Jakob’s, but mine were dragged down by what was coming. By what I felt I had to do even if it meant he’d never speak to me again.

After dinner, Liam and Jakob disappeared into Liam’s office, Jennifer watching them go with wary eyes. Gran had already gone to bed, and it was just the two of us in the kitchen now.

“Where are they off to?” I asked.

“Off to plan how best to get themselves killed, no doubt,” Jennifer answered, her tone bitter.

I glanced down the hall and then out into the darkness beyond the windows. “Can I talk to you for a minute, outside?” I asked. I didn’t know how paranoid Liam was, if he bugged his own house, and I needed to say a few things to Jennifer without him overhearing.

She watched me for a moment before answering, her eyes roving over my face as if searching for something. When you looked at Liam, you knew right away that Jakob was his son. It was there for all to see in the color of their eyes, their tall statures, their full mouths. With Jennifer, the resemblance was more subtle. It was how she took in an entire room at a glance, the quiet way she observed those around her, and the scarcity with which she spoke, choosing to say something only when there was something that really needed to be said.

After a small eternity, she nodded.

I exhaled, feeling like I’d just passed some kind of test, and then went to snag us a couple of beers from the fridge. I had a feeling the conversation to come would call for a drink.

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