Page 19 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part Two
Sampson snorted. “Keep watch for what? Geriatrics and fighting neighbors? Stop being a chickenshit and let's go.” With that, he slid from the car like he didn’t have a care in the world. Which I guess he didn’t. His father wouldn’t give a shit if he had orgies every day of the week, or joined a commune where no one wore anything but merkins.
I slid from the car, holding the door open for Aviva. She tugged at her dress and her hair, until I captured her wrist and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “You look amazing, Viva. They’ll love you.”
Hendrick bounded up to the door and knocked, even though we both had a key and knew where the spare key was hidden. I could hear my dad calling to my mom from inside the house that he’d get it, and I smiled. My parents loved each other so much, and it gave me hope that true love that lasted a lifetime actually existed.
The door flew open, and my dad was there, his smile wide and his beard scruffy. “Hendrick! Why are you ringing the bell like you’re a vacuum salesman? Come in.”
He stepped aside, giving Drix a hearty pat on the back and shaking hands with Sampson and Evan, until it was just me and Aviva standing in the doorway. I rested my hand on her lower back gently, giving her support.
“Hello, son! Introduce me to the girl who wooed you around the world.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, don’t embarrass her. Besides, we both know that was Hendrick’s crazy idea.” Dad tilted his head in agreement; he’d known Drix a long time. “This is Aviva. Viva, this is my dad, John.”
She put out a hand, and my dad shook it gently, like she might break. My dad was a huge guy, who’d started out in construction and later became an architect after he put himself through college. Anytime we went out to dinner with Hendrick and Sampson, everyone assumed Hendrick was his son since I’d inherited my mother’s finer bone structure. I wasn’t a waif by any standard, but I wasn’t built like a barn the way my dad was either.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Aviva. Come in, Otto’s mom is all but salivating to meet you.”
I shot him another frown that he just ignored with a grin. We made it into the formal living room, where my mom was already handing out beers to the guys.
She was looking at Evan like he’d grown a second head, and I got it. Normally when he came to dinner—well, it was really Sampson coming to dinner—Evan would either sit in the car or stay in the front foyer where he could watch the entrances. He was always wearing what I’d call his work uniform: black t-shirt, black jeans, shit-kicker boots. He never, ever took the drinks or food offered while he was working. Today, he looked so obviously different, all dressed up and accepting a beer—it was no wonder Mom was surprised.
As soon as Mom spotted us, she came over, wrapping me in a hug. “How are you, my sweet boy?” she murmured as she squeezed, before pulling back. Unlike my father, my mother didn’t wait for introductions. “I’m Letitia. It’s lovely to meet you. Aviva, is it?”
“Yes. Aviva Robinson.”
I opened my mouth to stop it, but I knew it was going to be too late. “Wai—”
“Aviva Kenley. We got married,” Hendrick declared loudly, walking over to wrap an arm around Aviva, whose face was now flushed bright red and looking thoroughly mortified.
My mother’s mouth dropped open, and my dad was blinking rapidly, looking between the three of us. “Excuse me?”
“Aviva and I are married. As of yesterday. She’s my wife.”
I heard someone groan behind me, and Sampson muttered, “For fuck’s sake, Hendrick.”
Looking at my parents, I held up my hands. “We can explain.”
My mother’s face went from surprised to concerned in a heartbeat. “I don’t understand. I thought…”
Yeah, I could imagine what they thought. I was pretty sure they’d already married Hendrick and I off years ago, and when Aviva came along, they’d probably made assumptions then too.
“Boys, I think what she’s trying to say is that when Otto called home, he sounded almost in love with Aviva. We thought you were coming over to introduce us to your girlfriend.”
Hendrick cleared his throat. “Actually—”
Aviva slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was probably too late again.
Well. This was going terribly.
Sampson came to the rescue, of course. “We should all sit down. This might be, uh, quite a wild story.”
Letitia was nodding, and slapped a hand to my father’s chest. “John, can you make me a G and T? I feel like this is going to require something a little stronger than wine.”
She had no idea.
My father was cupping his chin in what I’d always considered his thinker pose. “So, let me just see if I got this right. Senator Kenley—”
“That rotten piece of shit,” my mother added. She’d downed two gin and tonics in the time we’d unpacked the whole situation, and it was beginning to loosen her tongue.
