Page 33 of Queen of Ruin

I was never good at behaving though, so when Langley finishes his speech about working alongside my father, and how much my mother gave back to the community, I stride across the stone pathway towards him with a determined look.

He holds the plaque out to me with one hand and the other outstretched to shake mine. I stare at it, and knowing what I know about him, I think about spitting on it, but instead take it firmly – maybe a little too firmly. Perhaps it’s funny since Langley has a few good inches on me. Granted, I might be a little bit bigger than I was in college, but youth is on my side.

I shake his hand rather vigorously, while I lean and say, “Looks like your nose healed nicely.”

He looks towards the flashing cameras, a politician’s smile plastered on his face, and I wonder how in the world anyone couldn’t see past it. “You certainly made your parents proud marrying a prostitute.” He grabs hold of my forearm and pulls me in further as if to give me a hug.

I can feel the anger burn through me as I grip his hand even tighter, fighting to hold on even though my palms are sweating.

“What did you think you would accomplish by releasing those photos, ruining my father’s reputation by making the public think he cheated on my mother with Evangeline?” I accuse nastily, trying my best to keep a smile. “Were you just jealous that you had to hire her so she’d be in the same room with you?”

“Did she tell you my fingers were in her cunt? She was practically begging for it.” So help me God, it takes everything inside of me not to punch him right here in front of everyone.

He pulls me in closer, whispering in my ear. “I was never in competition with your father, especially when it came to that. Rausch knows that better than anyone. He and your father were very close, weren’t they?” He looks over my shoulder.

“He was a better friend than you,” I retort through gritted teeth even though I’m a bit confused by his accusations.

Langley rips his hand from mine. “Sure, if you want to call it that.”

I take the plaque as Langley stalks off, but not without taking the opportunity to give a wave and a smile to the cameras. I’m left in front of the podium bewildered and sweaty. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I manage to focus on the plaque.

This honor is bestowed upon Kerry Walker and Merrill Compton-Walker for their distinguished service in law and community.

Remembering why I’m here, I turn to look at the clinic, a red ribbon stretched across its door just waiting to be ceremoniously cut.

Clearing my throat, I manage to say, “My mother would politely accept this honor with grace and remind you that our lives are not measured by what we have, but by what we give.”

I look to my left where Rausch stands at the side of the makeshift stage. His proudful eyes bore into me.

“I was trying to think of what my father would say if he were here to accept this honor, but he would probably bore you with one of his speeches about Emerson and politics. He was always good at veering off topic, which I suppose I inherited from him – probably one of the only things I inherited.” The crowd laughs.

In order to ground myself, I look out at the crowd and lock eyes with Evangeline.

“You might ask what Emerson has to do with politics or even law for that matter, and my father would simply say – everything – leaving you to ponder and wanting more. He was always good about making you want more.”

I take a deep breath.

“I think I know what he meant.” I hear people shifting in their seats. “And perhaps I am more like my father than I thought, because I will leave you with this – It is not the length of life, but the depth,” I grip the podium tightly, “and both my parents lived deeply.”

13

I’M NO LADY

EVANGELINE

“I spy something blue.”

“I don’t want to play anymore,” Darren grumbles with a petulant tone.

“That’s because you’ve lost the last three rounds,” I tease, watching as he grips the steering wheel with obvious annoyance, which is actually quite cute.

“I think you’re cheating,” he accuses. “And you’re trying to distract me.”

I sit up and drop my feet from the dash. “I do not cheat!”

“There’s no other explanation,” Darren declares, shaking his head and taking a brief moment to peer over at me.

I press a palm to my chest. “I am deeply offended.” I flop back into my seat while Darren chuckles. “And is it working?” I lift an eyebrow.

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