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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

GARRET

Jade and I are flying back to California in a few hours and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I like our beach house and I like where we live, but I don’t feel safe there. What if my grandfather is having us watched? What if he changed his mind and decides to do something to Jade now and not wait until later? If he wants me to transfer to Yale, he can’t wait years to hurt her. He’d have to do it soon.

I feel like I can’t let Jade out of my sight, so how is this going to work? I can’t be with her every second of the day. But when I’m not with her, all I can think about is if she’s okay.

My dad still hasn’t called me. I’ve been sending him texts just to see if he’d respond, but he hasn’t. And now I really need to talk to him. If he won’t talk to me about my grandfather, I at least need to ask him about Sean. I need to know what’s going on with Kiefer.

The organization sent their people to threaten Sean, which means they want to hurry this along. They want to make Kiefer a member, but they can’t until he’s met all the requirements, and breaking up Sean and Harper was one of those requirements. I’m guessing the organization found out Sean wasn’t giving up on Harper so they took matters into their own hands.

What I can’t figure out is why Kiefer took so long to force Harper to break up with Sean. I’m sure Kiefer’s membership offer came with a deadline. Just like my grandfather, the organization likes deadlines. They probably gave Kiefer several months to do whatever they asked him to do in order to become a member. And yet he waited until last week to give Harper that ultimatum. So was Kiefer purposely stalling because he’s not sure he wants to be a member?

I need to know the answer to that. If he’s wavering, maybe my dad could talk to him and convince him not to do this. It would be risky for my dad to do that, but someone needs to talk Kiefer out of this and it can’t be me.

If Kiefer joins the organization, his life, and the lives of his wife and daughters, will be destroyed. And if he joins, Jade can no longer be friends with Harper. I haven’t told Jade this because I thought she’d figure it out herself, but she hasn’t so I’ll have to tell her soon. It’s going to be a huge loss for her to lose Harper, but we can’t be friends with someone who has ties to the organization. Obviously, Jade and I are already tied to the organization by way of William and my dad, but they’re family so we can trust them. But I don’t trust the other members, and Harper will eventually be married to one of them, which will make being around her too much of a risk.

“Garret, are you done in there?” I hear Jade in the bedroom. I’m in the bathroom, shaving.

I open the door, wiping the towel over my face. “Yeah, I’m done.”

She comes up to me like she’s going to kiss me but instead starts sniffing my face. “I love the smell of shaving cream. I have to sniff you before the smell is gone.”

“You’re funny.” I kiss her, mid-sniff, then walk past her into the bedroom. “Did you pack everything?”

“Almost. I just need to grab my makeup bag.” She comes out of the bathroom with it and tucks it in the suitcase. “Ryan has breakfast ready so we should get out there.”

As I walk to the door, she stops me, her arms around my waist. “It’s Sunday and I can’t go to Garret’s Pancake House.”

I brush the wispy strands of hair off her face and kiss her. “You can go next Sunday.”

“Can I pay for them ahead of time? Like when we get back?”

“There’s no pre-payments allowed but we can still do stuff, Jade. You don’t have to wait until next Sunday.”

“Good, because it’s been almost a week and that’s just way too long.” She leans in and whispers. “And we never got to celebrate our sexiversary.”

“We’ll celebrate it.” I kiss her, then open the door. “Let’s go eat.”

Jade wouldn’t have sex in Frank’s house so we haven’t done it since before we left. Truthfully, I haven’t been in the mood because of everything that’s been going on. I’m distracted and stressed and exhausted from my lack of sleep, so right now, sex isn’t even on my mind. That’s totally messed up and I don’t like feeling this way and I’m pissed that I do. I have a beautiful wife who wants to be with me and we’re newlyweds so I should be as eager as Jade is to get back home so we can do it. But I’m not.

I don’t know how long I can go on like this. Hiding this from her is nearly impossible. She knows I’m not sleeping, she notices when I don’t eat, and if I give her any indication I’m not in the mood for sex, she’ll definitely know something’s wrong.

“It’s all ready,” Ryan says as Jade and I walk in the kitchen. “Help yourself. We’re just eating at the counter today.”

“Works for me.” Jade hands me a plate and takes one for herself.

Ryan has platters of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and bacon set out on the kitchen island.

“I went out this morning and got you these.” Ryan holds a tray of donuts in front of Jade.

“Donuts! Thanks, Ryan.” She takes two. “Frank, are you eating?”

“Yes.” He’s sitting in the living room, watching one of those Sunday morning political shows. “I was just listening to our new president to see what promises we can look forward to him breaking when he takes office in a few months.”

Frank walks to the kitchen and I hand him a plate. “Not a fan of Kent Gleason, huh?”

“It’s not just him. They’re all liars. Doesn’t matter what party.” Frank scoops some eggs on his plate. “And Gleason never should’ve been elected. Part of me thinks they rigged the voting machines to make him win.”

Jade looks at me, her hand frozen in place over the piece of bacon she was about to pick up. Luckily, I’m the only one who notices. She needs to get better at hiding what we know. She can’t react every time someone says something like that. People will get suspicious.

“Look, Jade. Name brand.” Ryan’s holding up a carton of orange juice. “Remember when we used to have to buy the generic brand and water it down?”

Jade relaxes and picks up her bacon. “Yeah, it was gross. That’s why I drank soda for breakfast.”

“Real orange juice.” He takes a sip of it and smiles. “Having money is awesome.”

Just like Jade, it doesn’t take much to make Ryan happy. He’s used to having nothing, so undiluted, brand name orange juice is a big deal to him. Even though he has money now, he’s still careful with it. He doesn’t spend much. But at least he got some new clothes. He used to have on the same clothes every time I saw him. It’s like he only had one pair of jeans and a few t-shirts and they all looked really old. Other than clothes, Jade said he’s only used his money to pay for school and to buy his car.

“We never took the car out,” I say to Ryan.

“Yeah, I was just thinking that. Let’s go after breakfast.”

Jade reaches across me for the salt. “Garret and I need to be at the airport at ten, Ryan.”

“We won’t go very far. And your flight leaves at noon. You don’t need to be at the airport at ten.”

“He’s right, Jade.” I grab a piece of bacon. “That’s way too early.”

“Okay, but if we miss our plane, I’m blaming both of you.”

We finish breakfast, then Jade offers to clean up the dishes so Ryan and I can go for a drive. It’s only nine-thirty, but Jade’s already getting anxious, convinced we’ll miss our plane if we don’t leave for the airport soon.

“We’ll be back around eleven,” I say as I follow Ryan to the garage.

“You better not be gone that long!” Jade yells from the kitchen. “Garret, did you hear me? Turn your phone on.”

I just laugh. “We should probably get back by ten or she’ll have a panic attack.”

Ryan hits the garage door opener. “Jade’s always been one of those people who likes to be early. Like way too early.” He gets in the car and waits until I’m in the passenger’s side, then says, “In high school, Jade went to a party at seven forty-five because her friend said it started at eight.”

“Which means it really starts around nine or nine-thirty.”

“Yeah, exactly. So she got there and nobody was there. Nobody showed up at eight either so she just left. I had explain to her that you always add at least an hour to whatever time they tell you.”

He backs the car out, then stops. “Did you want to drive? Sorry, I didn’t even think to ask. Here, let’s switch places.” He undoes his seat belt.

“No, that’s okay. You can drive.“

Ryan nods. “I guess you’ve already driven one of these before. You have a six series so this is a step down. Or several steps.” He fakes a smile. “We can just skip the drive. We don’t have to do this.”

“What are you talking about? I want to take it out.” I motion him to go. “Hurry up. Show me what it can do.”

“Okay.” He smiles for real this time as he backs out onto the street.

This is one of the downsides of being rich. You can’t share stuff with people. I don’t mean material stuff, but experiences. Like the orange juice thing. I grew up drinking fresh squeezed orange juice, so I can’t really share in Ryan’s excitement over a carton of brand name orange juice. And even if you do show excitement, the person doesn’t believe you. I’m sure Ryan thinks I’m just playing along, pretending to be excited about his car. The truth is, I am excited. The car is brand new and I haven’t been in this year’s model and I love cars, especially BMWs. So I want to take it for a drive. But even if I tell Ryan that, he won’t believe me. He’ll think I’m just being nice.

“I’ll take it on the interstate,” he says, “but I can’t speed because there’s always cops sitting there.”

I glance around the inside of the car. “I like the interior. Newly designed this year, right?”

“Yeah, and part of the outside, too. They narrowed the front and changed the hubcaps.”

He turns onto the on-ramp and hits the gas. We take off, merging onto the interstate.

“Nice acceleration, huh?” Ryan’s beaming. He loves this car. I love mine, too. So that’s an experience we can share. Doesn’t matter what car you have. If you love it, you get that same feeling. That same excitement from driving it.

“You better slow down,” I tell him. “I see a cop up ahead.”

“Shit.” He taps the brakes. “Thanks.”

“How’s school going?” I figure I should talk about more than just the car since Ryan and I don’t get to talk much.

“It sucks. I’ve got really hard classes this year. Seems like I never stop studying. But at least the semester’s almost over.”

“So what do you think of Karen?”

“She’s great. She takes really good care of my dad. I can’t remember anything about my mom, but my dad said Karen’s like her in a lot of ways.” He merges into the left lane. “So how’s Jade doing?”

“She’s fine. Why? What do you mean?”

“I mean, does she ever like, hear stuff anymore?”

He means the voices. Ryan and I are the only ones who know about Jade hearing her mom’s voice in her head.

“No. She doesn’t.”

“Do you think she’d tell you if she did?” He turns the vent so the heat isn’t blowing on him.

“Yeah, she’d tell me. She’s going to counseling now. You knew that, right?”

“Dad told me she was. But she’s been to counseling before and it didn’t help.”

“It’s different now. She wants to go. Nobody is forcing her.”

“Good. She needs to deal with that stuff.” He pauses. “When I first met Jade, she was so skinny I thought she was anorexic. Her face was all sunk in, her bones were sticking out everywhere. Then I found out she was skinny because she didn’t have any food at her house. She was 12 when I met her. She saw me moving into the house with my dad and came over and said hi, a big smile on her face. She was desperate to make a friend. I invited her for dinner that night, and before she came over, my dad told me about her and her mom.”

Part of me wants to hear more about Jade’s past, but the other part of me doesn’t. I don’t want to think about her not having food or friends or anyone to take care of her. It’s the past, but it still breaks my heart.

“Anyway,” Ryan says. “I love her and I just want her to get past all that.”

“We both do, Ryan. It’s just going to take some time, but I’m doing everything I can to help her.”

He shrugs. “I’ve decided you’re not so bad. Jade could’ve done worse.”

I laugh. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Speaking of Jade, I better turn around or she’ll yell at us for being gone too long.” He gets off at the next exit. There’s nothing out here but farm fields and an old gas station. “You want to drive back?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll pull over at the gas station.” Ryan turns right, heading toward it just as my phone rings. It’s Jade.

“Garret. You need to get home.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re turning around.”

“Did your dad call you?”

“No. Why would my dad call?”

“You need to hurry.” Jade’s voice is rushed, urgent.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Ryan turns into the gas station. I nudge his arm. “Don’t pull over, just go.”

“You don’t want to drive?”

“No. Just get back on the interstate and head home.” I speak into the phone again. “Jade? Are you still there?”

“Yes, but—” Her voice gets cut off. I check my phone and only see one bar lit up.

“You don’t have cell reception out here?” I ask Ryan.

“It gets spotty when you’re out in these rural areas.”

I hear Jade again. “Garret?”

“Yeah, we got cut off. What’s going on there?”

“You need to get home. Your grandfather—” The phone cuts out again.

“My grandfather what? Jade? Are you there?”

I check my phone. It’s dead. Shit! I forgot to plug it in last night. “Ryan, can I borrow your phone?”

“I left it on the kitchen counter.” Ryan’s on the interstate now, going the speed limit.

“You need to drive faster,” I tell him.

“I can’t. I’ll get a ticket. That cop we passed earlier might still be there.”

“I don’t give a shit. I’ll pay the ticket.”

He mumbles something about his insurance rates going up. I’m not really listening as I try to figure out why Jade sounded so frantic. Did someone show up at the house? Is my grandfather there? Or did he send someone there? Shit, what if he did? Is that why Jade asked if my dad called? Does she know what’s going on? Does she think my dad’s involved?

In my mind I see images of Jade and Frank being held hostage in the house, guns pointed at their heads.

“Ryan, drive faster. I’m serious.”

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

I keep my eyes on the road. “Do you have a gun?”

“A gun? Why would I have a gun?”

“So you don’t have one? Frank doesn’t have one?”

“No. Why?”

“Something’s wrong and Jade wouldn’t tell me anything. But she sounded really upset so we need to hurry up and get home.”

“Why did you ask about a gun? You think someone’s at the house? Like trying to rob us?”

I squeeze my hand into a fist, clutching my phone with the other. “I don’t know. We just need to get home.”

He steps on the gas and five minutes later we’re back at the house. Nothing looks out of place, at least not on the outside. I jump out of the car while it’s still running and we’re still in the driveway. The front door is locked so I bang on it and ring the bell a few times.

Jade opens the door and pulls me into the living room and points to the TV. “It’s your grandfather.”

An image of my grandfather is at the top right corner of the screen.

I walk closer to the TV and hear the newswoman talking, “…suffered a severe stroke that has left him in a coma. Kensington was found earlier this morning in his Manhattan apartment and immediately rushed to the emergency room. He’s currently in critical condition. In a statement just released, Holton’s son, Pearce Kensington, said his father appeared to be in good health just last night when the two of them met for dinner. Pearce has asked the press to give his family privacy during this difficult time. In other news…”

My gaze remains on the TV as Jade hugs me. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. But I thought for sure your dad would’ve called and told you.” I feel her pull away. “Garret?”

I glance down at her. “No, he didn’t call.”

“You should call your father,” Frank says.

I look over and see Ryan standing next to Frank. Everyone’s staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

“Could you change the channel?” I ask Frank. “Find another news channel.”

He comes over and hands me the remote. “It’s all yours.”

I flip through the channels until I see my grandfather’s photo again. I turn up the volume. It’s a financial news show with two older men talking to each other at a round table.

One of the men says, “If Holton doesn’t recover, how will that impact the future of Kensington Chemical?”

The other man answers, “I doubt that it will. Holton is chairman of the board but his son, Pearce, is the one driving the success of the company. Kensington Chemical has seen tremendous growth since Pearce took over as CEO. With him at the helm, I foresee many profitable years ahead.” He smiles. “Now if the company is ever turned over to Pearce’s son, Garret, I would predict it would go out of business.”

Both men laugh. Then one of them says, “Yes, he certainly made a spectacle of himself last year, didn’t he? He’s not the type of person you’d want running a company.”

I change the channel again and see my dad walking fast toward the entrance of Kensington Chemical.

“I’m not answering any questions,” he says to the reporters gathered around him. “I ask that you give my family privacy during this difficult time.” He goes inside the building and security guards block the door so the reporters can’t get in.

I hand Frank the remote. “I need to call my dad.” I walk down the hall with Jade following behind me.

“Garret, wait. What should I do? Should I get the next flight to Connecticut?”

“We’re not going to Connecticut. We’re going home.”

“Oh. Okay. So when are we leaving for Connecticut?”

“We’re not.” I walk into the bedroom and over to my phone charger on the dresser. I plug in my phone and turn it on.

“Don’t you want to see your grandfather?”

“He’s in a coma. He wouldn’t even know I’m there.”

I’m really pissed right now. Why didn’t my dad call me? Or my grandmother? Or Katherine? My grandfather’s in a coma and nobody tells me?

“You’re not going to see him?”

“No.” I stand there, my mind racing, my muscles tight. I’m still on edge from thinking Jade was here with a gun to her head.

“But he’s your grandfather. You need to go.”

“The news said he’s in critical condition. He’s probably not going to make it. He’ll probably be gone before I even got there.”

“Then we should be there for your dad.” She says it softly. “And the funeral.”

“I’m not going to the funeral.”

“You’re not?”

Jade’s staring at me like she can’t figure this out. Like she thinks I should be crying or something. But right now, I’m not able to put on a show and pretend that I’m sad. Because I’m not sad. Not even a little.

“Garret, if he doesn’t make it, you have to go to the funeral.”

“Why? You didn’t go to your grandfather’s funeral.”

Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. My mind’s all over the place right now and I’m not thinking straight.

Jade looks down at the floor.

I pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Jade. I never should’ve said that. I know you wanted to be at Arlin’s funeral. Dammit. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She wipes her eyes and looks up at me. “I know you’re upset. What can I do?”

“Just give me a minute to talk to my dad.”

She nods. “Okay.”

She leaves, closing the door behind her. I call my dad. After the third ring, he picks up.

“Garret, I have some news,” he says.

“Yeah, I heard. When did you find out?”

“Earlier this morning.”

“And you couldn’t fucking call me?”

He’s quiet, and I realize I need to calm down. I don’t know how my dad’s feeling about this and I need to at least consider he might be sad.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just didn’t like hearing about this on the news.”

“I know. And I should’ve called earlier. I was at the hospital and then things got out of control with the media and—well, I should’ve called. I’m sorry about that.”

“So someone found him?”

“Yes. The housekeeper went in to clean and she found him on the floor in the living room.”

“Where was Grandmother?”

“At home, in Connecticut. But now she’s here in New York, staying with me at the apartment.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s dealing with it. My mother isn’t one to show emotion. You know that.”

“How about you ? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” There’s this odd moment of silence and then, “He’s not expected to recover, Garret.”

More silence. Dead silence.

My family uses silence like other people use words. Silence is a form of communication to us. And I think my dad is telling me something with his silence.

A cold chill runs through me as I consider what the silence means.

“Dad, you didn’t—” I can’t say it. I shouldn’t even be thinking it. He would never do that. Not to his own father. But he answered my phone call. And he said he wouldn’t talk to me until this was over. Until he took care of it. He promised he’d take care of it.

And now it’s taken care of. Or it will be if my grandfather dies, and it sounds like that’ll be happening very soon.

“Garret, I need to go.”

“Wait. So you were with him last night for dinner?”

“Yes, I was here for a meeting so we met for dinner. He was tired so we didn’t stay out late.”

“What caused the stroke? Do they know?”

“They’re not sure. It could’ve been caused by a number of things.”

I’ve heard that story before. Someone has a sudden heart attack or stroke that can’t be explained. I don’t know much about strokes other than stuff I’ve heard on TV. I know they can kill you and I know there aren’t always warning signs, so maybe it just happened.

But I also know there are certain drugs that can induce a stroke or a heart attack or a brain aneurysm. That’s one way the organization takes out their enemies, especially people who are important. People whose deaths would be investigated. If they wanted to kill someone like Sean, a nobody, they’d just shoot him and then pay some cop to make a fake police report saying it was just a random crime. But if they need to kill a senator or a governor or some other well-known person, they plan a car accident or a plane crash. Or they make it look like the person died of a stroke or a sudden heart attack.

That’s what I think happened to Arlin. I think one of the members slipped Arlin a drug that caused his heart attack. I didn’t come to this conclusion until just last week, when my grandfather made that comment about Arlin. My grandfather acted like he knew Arlin was involved in the plan to destroy my image. And if he knew, then others might’ve as well. If so, Arlin would’ve been killed, maybe by my grandfather himself. Arlin and my grandfather were good friends for many years. And yet I know for a fact that my grandfather would have no problem killing his friend. Just like he had no problem killing his daughter-in-law. And no problem plotting to kill Jade.

I want him gone. I want that bastard dead and I don’t feel bad about it.

“How long?” I ask, without an ounce of emotion.

My dad knows what I’m asking. “The doctor said he won’t make it through the night. He’ll be gone by morning.”

There’s more silence. This time it’s conveying relief. Overwhelming relief. By tomorrow, this will all be over.

“We’ll talk soon. Goodbye, Garret.”

He hangs up and I sit on the bed, the relief I felt just seconds ago replaced by a heaviness in my chest as I think about how this happened. Was it really just a stroke? Or did my dad do this?

I never asked him the question. I couldn’t, because I didn’t want the answer. He said he didn’t know what caused the stroke. But he’s an expert at lying. All my life, I’ve never been able to read him to know if he’s telling the truth.

As much as I wanted my grandfather gone, I didn’t want it to be at the hands of my dad. Killing his own father? It seems too evil. Like something my grandfather would do, but not my dad. He’s different.

My dad didn’t do this. He couldn’t. I know he’s had people killed before, and even done it himself, but he couldn’t kill his own father. Could he?

I think back to last week, when I told my dad what happened to my mom. How his father had planned my mom’s death. Planned the timing of it. Made my dad think she was safe when she really wasn’t. Is knowing that enough to drive my dad to kill his own father?