When I return to the living room, Garvey says, “There you are. You were gone so long I thought you were avoiding me.”
I wish. “No, Neely was making your drink. Is April not down?”
“Please don’t speak of me as if I’m not right here, Sara Jane.”
Both of us turn in unison to see her descending the stairs, the colorful green and gold caftan flowing behind her. She’s almost unrecognizable. Tanned. Hair styled and colored. Makeup thick, bright lipstick, and dramatic eyeliner has covered her dark circles and brought color to her face. Bold-statement earrings and an even larger turquoise necklace. Her gold sandals catch the light coming in through windows. What the hell is happening? She looks every bit the part of a wealthy socialite. I’m wondering where she got the money.
Alexander was working from home this morning. What’s that office like these days? Must be time to find out. In other words, hide. I glance to Neely. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.”
She nods again, quiet in her duties. I leave without another word, and neither April nor Garvey protest. Thank goodness. My gut twists every time I come down this hallway, the paneling seeming to trap me in the dark secrets they hold. Memories of overheard conversations, that still hurt to think about, haunt me with each step, but I’m determined to overcome them.
An errant thought about brightening the wood up by painting it white one day crosses my mind and I smile. I won’t let the negative back in. I won’t let it win. I won’t let Alexander Kingwood III or his ghost control my thoughts.
I open the door to the office and peek inside before walking all the way in. Being in here gives me the heebie-jeebies, but I take a moment to look around, really look at the space. A picture framed in silver of Alexander’s mom is the only touch that says someone with a heart once used this office, maybe even a soul that could love. I don’t want to give his father too much credit, but the love he had for Madeline is undeniable. Why did he cheat on her though?
Male ego?
Drunken night?
Weak demeanor?
I’m thinking all three.
Dragging my finger across the spines of the books that appear to be there for show, I end up in front of the window. The garden makes me smile. The pretty rose bushes and manicured lawn showcase the grandeur of the impressive home. The sunshine dots the rippling water of the lake in the distance. I pull back the heavy drapes the rest of the way open and then sit in the leather chair behind the desk. Spinning to face the window, there are clouds but the sky is the perfect blue. Just like Alexander’s eyes.
When I roll back, the wheel of the chair hits a snag. I look down to find a piece of wood leveraged awkwardly, like a puzzle piece not quite fitting its spot. I lift the wood and see a safe with the door ajar. Sitting up, I stare down, but debate. I shouldn’t be snooping.
The promises Alexander and I have made were from love and even protection. He trusts me like I trust him, so I need to stop feeling like a visitor in what is obviously my home now. I bend down on my knees and open the safe. Inside the shallow box, I find an envelope and money—thousands in large bills.
Why is the safe open?
Why was it not closed?
“Who opened this?” Why am I talking to myself? I laugh while pulling the envelope out and taking the papers with my hand. I flip through a few—marriage license between his parents and a death certificate of his grandfather, but what makes me smile is when I see Alexander’s birth certificate.
Alexander Roman Kingwood IV.
My heart.
My love.
My soul.
My smile falls away just from seeing her name on this document.
Mother: April Louise Dorset
Father: Alexander Roman Kingwood II
Date of Birth: July 9th
Place of Birth: Regional Care Hospit—my gaze slides two lines back.
Father: Alexander. Roman. Kingwood. II.
The second.
My eyebrows cinch together as my mind fights the confusion.
Alexander Kingwood IV—my Alexander. I smile.
Alexander Kingwood III—that twist is felt deep inside—my thoughts caught between hate and contempt.
Alexander Kingwood II—my Alexander’s grandfather. Died when Alexander was little. I’ve only heard a few stories, none exactly flattering, but not as bad as the stories about his dad.
They forgot the little extra I that follows the other two roman numerals. How weird.
“Sara Jane?”
I jump, startled by my name being called, and hit my head on a knob. April and Garvey stand on the other side of the desk staring at me. Shoot.
Rubbing my head, I mumble, “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
She asks, “What are you doing down there?”
“None of your business.” I stand up.
Holding the paper so the printed side is facing me, she eyes it, as does he. Garvey finally says, “My aunt has told me so much about you that we thought it would be nice for you to join us on the terrace for a drink.”
My eyes shift from him to her, perplexed why they’re even talking about me, much less wanting to spend time with me. But I need to get them out of the office and hide the certificate until I can ask Alexander about it. “Um, okay. I’ll be right there.”
April says, “Splendid,” but her eyes read otherwise.
I don’t take long after they’ve left. I grab a large coffee table book on the Grand Canyon and tuck the certificate inside. After pushing the lid to the safe down and punching buttons until it locks, I stay there and replace the wood so it’s back in place before closing the office door and joining them on the terrace.
A glass of champagne awaits me. April leans in when I sit, and says, “I feel like we’ve gotten off course. We started out as friends. In the middle of something awful, you were so kind to me. Now I worry you hate me, but I’m not sure why.”
I’m not sure I want to tell her either, but with both of them waiting for me to reply, I have to say something. “Everything’s fine.” Never show your cards.
“Aunt April tells me you eloped recently.” Why is it that even his voice annoys me?
Hold the cards tight to my chest. “We did.”
“I met Alexander this morning. It wasn’t exactly the time and place for a toast, but maybe he’ll join us for one while I’m here. Marriage is worth celebrating.”
Keep my poker face. “Yes, it is. Are you married, Mr. Penner?”
“Garvey, please. We’re family now.”
“Right.”
“No. I’m twenty-eight. I still have some time to meet the future Mrs. Penner.”
Set down the first card. “I’m curious. Has Alexander met the rest of your family?” Watch their eyes.
“Unfortunately, no. My sister visited me a few times in the rehab center, but we’ve yet to get together since.”
Garvey adds, “My mother and Aunt April were never really close. Old family squabble.”