Page 34 of All In
“It's all thanks to him.” Kacey looked at me. “I was in a bad way. Trying to stay numb.” She smiled at me, shaking her head. “Teddy dropped everything and came to the rescue.”
“He did, indeed.” Dad turned to me. “Did you speak with your professors about the exams you missed?”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, although the emails I’d received from my professors weren’t fine in the slightest. Kacey gaped at me, alarm and regret twisting her features. I hated my dad a little just then.
“And your job is still waiting for you?”
“Henry,” my mother said. “I'm sure he sorted everything out beforehand.”
“Everything's fine,” I said, the heat rising up in my face. I dumped my dad’s steak on his plate harder than I meant to.
“I'm merely stating my concern for your responsibilities here,” Dad said. “I'd hate to see you jeopardize your standing with the university. Tuition is expensive, and Jonah's contribution can only—”
“Nothingis in jeopardy, Dad,” I said. “So just drop it.”
“Drop it like it's hot?” asked a cheerful voice from the patio gate. “I see it’s business as usual Chez Fletcher.”
“Oscar,” Kacey said, rising to her feet. “Dena.”
She threw herself between them and they squashed her tight. The three friends embraced, the women holding on to each other the longest.
“Girl, you skipped town like the mob was after you,” Oscar said. Over the six months Kacey was gone, he hardly mentioned her, or asked about her, and then usually only if Dena did first. He smiled his broad smile at her and I didn’t doubt that he was happy she was back, but once the reunion it was over, it was business as usual.
My mother clapped her hands together. “Everyone sit. Eat before it gets cold.”
I took the only seat available, the one that had been Jonah’s and sat down, feeling like an imposter, despite Kacey’s warm smile for me.
She filled everyone in on where she was living and working, and my mother crowed about how she’d always wanted to go to New Orleans. Kacey asked about Oscar and Dena's respective jobs—Oscar doing computer programming for the MGM Grand; Dena working as an adjunct literature professor at UNLV. The women fawned over Dena's engagement ring. Oscar and I made small talk about the Runnin’ Rebels basketball chances this year. But underneath it all, was a sad truth: We were a bunch of people sitting around propping up the conversation with false smiles and high-pitched voices, trying to ignore the gaping black hole in our lives.
“I have a ticket to next week’s game,” Oscar said. “That is, if you don’t already have a date lined up.”
I felt Kacey’s sideways glance at the same time Mom asked, “Are you seeing someone special, dear?”
“No,” I said. “I’m too busy with work and school.”
“Yeah, right.” Oscar laughed while Dena regarded me with those dark brown eyes of hers—eyes that had a way of lookingthroughyou. I glanced away before she saw too much.
“So, listen,” Kacey said. She tapped her fork against her water glass and threw a look around the table. “I need to say something. I owe you all an explanation.”
“You don’t owe us anything, dear,” my mom said.
Kacey shook her head. “No, I do. For you and for myself.” She huffed a breath, and the entire table went still. I wanted to take her hand, let her know she had my support, but didn’t dare. Not while sitting in Jonah’s chair. I nudged her foot under the table instead.
She shot me a grateful smile.
“I told you I’ve been in New Orleans for the last six months. I headed east and kept driving until I landed there. Or maybe I just ran out of steam. I left Vegas because losing Jonah was harder than I could’ve imagined. I thought I was ready. Or at least a little bit prepared. I wasn't. Not even close.”
I glanced around the table, all of them unmoving, unblinking but all of them—all of us—connected by our own memories of those fucking horrible days after Jonah left us.
“I tried,” Kacey said. “I wrote a bunch of music really fast, as if I could outrun the grief and get it all out on paper. But it didn't work. The words weren’t enough, and I was too scared to face the enormity of the grief. I thought it would destroy me. So I fled to a different city, hoping to outrun the memories. And when that didn't work, I started drinking.”
The table shifted now, leaning forward or back, tucking hair and scratching at chins. I pressed my foot to hers harder. Kacey sucked in a breath, and I knew what she was going to say next. The hardest thing.
“I’ve been drunk for the last six months. Literally. Every day, all day.” She looked at me, her eyes brimming. “Theo saved my life. I was slowly killing myself, and if Teddy hadn't found me…”
“Kace,” I murmured. It wasn’t a big deal and yet it was. I wanted to brush it aside and I wanted to be proud I helped her. I wanted to earn my seat, and yet I already belonged here.
God, when will everything stop feeling so fucked up?
