The next day I try to work up the nerve to call Easton and fail miserably.
In my defense, he doesn’t call me either.
So maybe I decide to take the coward’s way out.
Lindy
We need to talk.
Easton
Do you remember marrying me yet?
Lindy
No. That’s what we need to talk about.
We shouldn’t have gotten married.
Easton
I disagree.
Lindy
Easton . . . How can you say that? I don’t even remember marrying you.
Easton
That’s exactly why I can say that. I know what happened Saturday night, princess. And it wasn’t a mistake. If you can tell me you remember it too and still want an annulment, I’ll give you an annulment.
Lindy
Why are you being difficult?
Easton
Because you’re worth it.
Gotta go, wife. I’ve got a game to play.
Because you’re worth it.
Damn him.
Lindy
What do you do when you can’t shake a funk?
Everly
I remember that I have a great ass and things could be worse.
Brynlee
This is why we’re friends.
Gracie
You do have a great ass.
Everly
You’re just saying that because we have the same ass.
Kenzie
You just made me snort Coke out of my nose.
Lindy
WHAT!
Kenzie
The soda. Come on. It’s not like Evie said it.
Everly
I’ve never snorted anything up my nose, thank you very much.
Lindy
I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe.
Everly
Good. Funk gone. Now on with your day.
For those of you following the newest super couple, Kroydon Hills’ favorite goalie was on fire last night during the Vegas Vipers game against the Colorado Crush. Still waiting to see if this couple is going to be bicoastal. I’d hate to see that jet fuel bill. I don’t know, peeps. Should we be on baby watch? Stay tuned and see.
#KroydonKronicles
EASTON
“I’ve been expecting your call, kid. Thought it would have come a little earlier than this though.”
“Listen, old man, I’m pushing thirty. I think it’s time you retired the whole kid thing,” I tell Becket as I wait for my Uber outside the Philadelphia airport. “And it’s only been a few days.”
“Rumor has it you’re old and married, at least according to Juliette and a few hundred gossip sights.” Yeah . . . Becks has always had a way with words. “And it’s been almost a week.”
“Looks that way.” Not that my wife has returned a single one of my calls since she texted me the day after she left Vegas. And I’ve been calling. “And you’re arguing semantics. A few days. Almost a week. I say tomato . . .”
My Uber pulls up, and I slide into the back seat and confirm the address with the driver.
“Why are you giving someone my address, Easton?” Becks questions.
“Because I’m coming home, Becket.”
“Home? Like home, home?” he asks, and okay, yeah, maybe now I do feel like a kid again because this is how Becks used to question me before I moved out.
“Home. Like Kroydon Hills home, Becks. Like Max offered me a trade this weekend, and I accepted it, home. We had to hammer out a few details, but it was official as of this morning.”
Becks sucks in an audible breath and blows it out in a long, low whistle. “Well damn, kid. It took you long enough. Max has been making that offer for a long time. Glad to know you finally took it. And a little pissed he didn’t tell me.”
“Yeah. I know. I can feel the I told you so vibes through the phone. And don’t be mad at Max. I asked him to let me break the news.” I look out the window at the dusky, snow-covered city and think about all the reasons I wasn’t ready to come home until now. Most of them starting and ending with Lindy.
“Maybe I wasn’t talking about the trade,” he taunts. “You’ve got the family pretty upset with Lindy and you. You ready to talk about that yet?”
“You ready to listen? Because the messages Jules has been leaving me don’t really sound like she’s ready to hear me out. She just sounds pissed.”
“Listen, Juliette may not be your mom, but she loves you and Kenzie the exact same way she loves Blaise. It doesn’t matter that she didn’t give birth to you. You’re hers. Ours. And she’s hurt. We didn’t exactly expect to find out from social media that Lindy and you got drunk and married in Vegas. It’s safe to say some of the family may be a little pissed off.”
Becket Kingston came into my life a week after my mother died. I was an angry teenager, mad at the world. He didn’t try to change me or fix me or force me into some fucked up box that would fit the Kingston mold. Instead, he spent time getting to know me. Setting boundaries and proverbially knocking me down whenever I stepped over them, which I did, a lot. He never raised a hand and rarely raised his voice. No. He used his words. He led by action and demanded I follow. That’s how Becks works. Probably why he’s spent the past decade as a US senator.
He earned every ounce of respect I will forever have for him. Even if I don’t tell him enough. So if he wants to be pissed I drunkenly married his baby sister in Vegas, he’s earned that right. But it’s not going to change anything. Madeline Kingston is my wife. And I don’t care what anyone else in this family thinks about that.
“You pissed, Becks?”
“Kid, I may be the only one who isn’t. My wife . . . ? Now, she’s pissed. And according to Jules, your wife is pretty pissed at everyone too. Not sure if that includes you.”
Lindy’s pretty pissed with me at the moment. At least judging by the lack of communication, it’s pretty safe to assume she is. Although it’s probably not a great idea to tell Becks that. “Am I better off asking why you’re not . . . or why Jules is?” I ask as the driver pulls onto Main Street in Kroydon Hills.
Becks sighs. “I’ve been married long enough to know better than to speak for Juliette. But for me, let’s just say I have faith in the man you are, and that man wouldn’t marry my sister without loving her. You wouldn’t do that to Madeline or to me. You’re a good man, Easton. Now, do I wish you hadn’t done it drunk in Vegas? Yeah, fuckhead. I’ve been trying to calm Jules down for twenty-four hours. Newsflash—it’s not working. And she’s not half as upset as Ashlyn. But—and this is a big one—if you tell me right now you want to be married to my baby sister—if you tell me she’s it, and you’re willing to take on the whole family—I’ll back you up 100 percent. I’ll fight the family with you. You’re not a dumb kid, E, and I’m not oblivious enough to ignore the fact that there’s always been something between the two of you.”
The driver pulls up to the closed gates in front of Kingston Manor, the ten-thousand square-foot mansion where I spent my last two years of high school living with Jules and Becks. “You think you can buzz me in?”