Page 4 of Easy Reunion
Angel snorted. “About this—about him—you’re more fragile than NOLA fans seeing our beloved quarterback take a hit on the field. Honey.” Angel took both my hands in hers. “What was done to the girl in you is just wrong. You know this.”
Breathing hard, I nodded.
“But I’ve read your books, Kelsey. You are soangryat the others. But you’re stillhurtbyhim. Don’t you want the opportunity to look him in the eye and purge that out?”
“Even though I disagree that I’m ‘trapped’ in anything”—I use her own word—“I do feel like shoving everything I am down the throats of the people who made my life hell for years.”
“That’s my girl.” Giving me a swift hug, she moved away, and before I thought twice about it, I accepted. That was months ago, and until this week when I began to pack, I didn’t think twice about it.
Now that I’m standing here, I’m not so sure. I have no idea how to handle the swirl of emotions I’ve never settled in my soul for him. Because there was both the care that Rierson Perrault showed me for almost a year versus the viciousness he demonstrated at the end—that’s what I can’t seem to forget…
I’m snapped back when Nana declares, “Well, as much as we love Angel, your pop-pop and I don’t like it.”
A flood of warmth rushes over me. After everything I dealt with at Forsyth—so close on the heels of the death of my parents—my grandparents became everything to me. They’ve supported every personal and business decision I ever made wholeheartedly. When I was looking to cover my surgical scar, I did so with a chain of shockingly pink gerbera daisies, Nana’s favorite flower. Despite everything that’s happened to me, Nana never lost her belief that everything would turn out all right in my life. She never had any doubt in me, despite the ones I still have in myself.
Shaking my head, I shove to my feet and walk over to the window to study the muddy green waters of the Savannah River. “What are you and Pop-pop doing today?” I ask to distract her.
“Oh, we’ve got ping-pong tonight, darlin’. I tell you, that man is going to throw out a hip diving for a little white ball, I swear.” I grin, thinking of my eighty-one-year-old grandfather.
“It could be worse, Nana.”
“How’s that?”
“He could be trying to play golf again,” I remind her.
“Ain’t that the truth.” Her heartfelt statement makes me laugh. “Remember what Dr. Royster said the last time?”
“I’m not quite certain if it’s possible to recreate the torture chamber fromThe Princess Bride, Nana.” I’m wiping tears of laughter from my eyes.
“You know she’ll try, gosh darn it! If he messes up his back and hip like that again, she’ll figure out a way, honey,” she declares firmly.
“I’m sure she will,” I console her.
She hesitates before asking, “Are you going to be all right there?” I hear a note of concern for me being here in her voice. I know she and Pop-pop would have been on an airplane to support me in an instant, but I needed to confront my past on my own, armed with only the skills and strength that I learned over the last fifteen years.
Since the day I drove away with tears blinding me.
Nana’s saying something, but I’m only half listening as the tranquil view lures me into believing what’s outside the sanctity of my room can’t hurt me. But I know better.
Taking a deep breath, I turn away and concentrate on the first task at hand for the long weekend ahead.
Setting my grandmother at ease before I make my way downstairs to burn off some energy.
* * *
After throwingon some workout gear and some well-worn sneakers, I tie my hair back away from my face before slipping my key card, credit card, and iPhone in my lower back zipper pocket. Slipping a pair of wireless buds in, I push the down button on the elevator and wait.
When I get to the main level, I stop at the concierge desk to ask for directions to the gym. After I find out there’s not a fully equipped gym on site, but there’s a path around the hotel property for running and walking, I push off at a brisk trot to warm up my muscles with “Centuries” blasting. My mind empties of everything but the heat raining down on me from the sunlight above and the contradiction of feeling from the cold water bottle in my hand given to me by the concierge “…free of charge. It’s part of our partnership with New Balance.”
Not bad, I think as the song switches to something with a lull. Stepping to the side, I stretch my warmed-up muscles so I don’t pull anything. While I much prefer swimming, the resort’s pool isn’t designed for the kind of laps I usually put my resurrected body through. And although I’d rather run on a treadmill in this humidity, I’ll take what I can get. I start running again when the thoughts for my newest plot start creeping in.
Pilar is walking down the hall when suddenly she’s shoved up against the floor-to-ceiling windows, books scattering everywhere. Her head slams back against the glass with a hard thud. Two sets of strong arms pin her there while a group of people start to lift her shirt. What feels like a million fingers poke at her stomach. “Jesus, Martell, what did you eat for dinner last night?”
“Must have been that missing animal they were talking about over the loudspeaker. She’s even more of a dog than yesterday.” All of the nearby students watching collapse in laughter.
Pilar’s face is almost purple in humiliation. Tears scald hot tracks down them.
My legs pump harder as I burn out my fury of that memory that I relive through my character “Pilar.” Quickly, I pull up an ongoing text I have and send myself a quick voice message so I don’t forget this next section of my current book,Humility. My young adult series about a girl at a private boarding school living through much of the same hell I, myself, endured at Forsyth is making waves all over the world. As Kee Long, I’ve been able to purge myself of the pain, no, the fucking shame I endured.
