Xeni Read online

  She blinked, then reached for her phone. More alerts were lighting up her LetsChat app. A few missed calls. She opened her contacts and called her Aunt Alice. The oldest of the Everly sisters, she’d had her own issues with Sable, but Xeni had at least witnessed her efforts to play peace maker. That always turned to the role of referee when she sent Xeni’s mom and her other sisters back to their respective corners to cool off. The phone rang and rang, but the voicemail kicked in. Xeni ended the call and dialed her step-dad.

  She knew she should put the phone away and calm down. Take another deep breath, maybe a few dozen more. Gather her thoughts before she talked to anyone about any of this, but no. She wanted fucking answers.

  “Hey Peanut,” Dante’s cheery voice came through after the fourth ring.

  “I have to ask you something and you have to tell me the truth.”

  “Okay. What’s going on?”

  “Did you know that Sable was my real mother?”

  Dante was silent for a moment too long before he spoke. “Peanut, I told your mother I was going to stay out of this—”

  “So you knew. Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know.”

  “Your mom is with me right now. Why don’t you talk to her.”

  “I can’t. I have to go.” Xeni hit the bright red button at the bottom of the screen.

  It was nearly ten p.m. when Xeni took a moment to count the different rooms she’d disassociated in over the last several hours. Four. She’d spent some time in the kitchen, just staring out the window, coming in and out of awareness, considering how much lying to someone for their whole life was worth. Millions and a house on Martha’s Vineyard maybe? She’d managed to draft one text to her mother.

  Just really upset right now.

  Can’t talk.

  She was a fool to think that would work. After ignoring a dozen or so calls from her mother, she forced herself to eat something with the bottle of Chardonnay she’d cracked open. She’d come back to herself sitting at her aunt’s piano, cheese and cracker crumbs on her shirt.

  She moved to the T.V. room and envisioned the conversation her mom had had with Dante all those years ago, while Jeopardy played in the background. She thought of what she had told him when she explained she was raising her little sister’s baby. She wondered how easy it was for him to keep that a secret. She wondered just how many of the fights her family had had over the years were about her. Mostly she wondered why.

  When a commercial broke into some terrible family sitcom, she realized she wasn’t even watching the T.V. so she went upstairs to the newly renovated master bathroom. It was hers now right? Or it would be after a quick trip to the town clerk’s office and an emotionless walk down the aisle. Might as well take the massive soaker tub for a test drive. She filled it with piping hot water, remembering where she was just as the water came dangerously close to spilling over the edge.

  She undressed and slid into the water, that why beating at the backs of her eyes, begging her to cry so she could release some of the tension. But the tears weren’t coming. They might, eventually, but for now she chose numb over weepy.

  She sat in the water, her body warm and wet, and still as tense as before. What was she going to tell her family about the money? Not a damn fucking thing. The angry part of her had a point. Why should she tell them shit? If they could lie to her about her whole existence, she could lie to them about millions of dollars.

  She ran her finger over the rim of the tub and asked herself who the fuck she thought she was kidding. She was smart and knew how to keep her cards to her chest, but she wasn’t a liar and, unlike every other Everly woman she knew, she wasn’t selfish.

  Her phone rang again and she ignored it. If she weren’t waiting to hear from Mason, she’d let it die and never charge it again. God, Mason. She’d meant to hit him with the important questions. Was he a murderer? Did he have a criminal record? Where did he stand on Brexit and The Great British Baking Show? But what did it matter? This would be the sham marriage to end all sham marriages. She didn’t need to get to know him. She just needed him to say I do.

  Xeni finally pulled herself out of the tub, lotioned up and got ready for bed in the guest room. She risked a look at her phone. More missed calls from her parents, texts from the girls checking in, a voicemail from her cousin Rosia. She glanced at the transcript, saw the words “your mom wanted me to call” and immediately switched to LetsChat.

  All her girls were home from work, texting up a storm. She was three hundred messages behind. Her brain couldn’t do the catch up.

  Heeeeeey!

  Meegan: Xeni!

  Shae: Hey boo, I was just thinking about you.

  Joanna: How did the service go? Are you okay?

  Sarah: Yeah, how’d it go?

  Sloan: Xeni-boo! Twins about to murder each other. Brb, but I wanna hear it all. Love you!

  Keira: Do you need anything?

  * * *

  Xeni thought about how surreal her day had been, the madness that she knew had just begun to unfold. The lies and the secrets. My god, the lies. The sounds of those damn bagpipes popped in her head as her thumb hovered over the screen. Xeni didn’t have the energy to get into it, not with all of them at once. And the superstitious part of her knew not speak on certain things until they were concrete and sure, especially when it came to money.

  When she was ready, she could tell Sarah. She’d mastered the art of the tempered response. Then she could tell Keira and Shae and Joanna. And Sloan when she had time. When she was ready to laugh about it, she would tell Meegan. At the moment, she couldn’t feel the slightest bit of humor in the situation. So in her aunt’s dying words, she did the only thing she could do and stuck to the facts.

  * * *

  The service was lovely.

  4

  Xeni hoped sleep and a shower would help her find some clarity and peace with her current situation. Instead of a refreshed calm and the joy that came with the potential of a new day, she felt like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her REM cycles had been filed with dreams that could only be described as stressful as fuck. She woke up dehydrated and, worst of all, angry. Her sour mood hung around as she got dressed and made sense of the hair she hadn’t wrapped before falling into bed. It followed her as she struggled to get the coffee maker working and seemed to triple when she finally checked her phone.

  She could only fake it with the girls for so long. She read about Sloan’s kids and Meegan and Sarah caught her up on the most recent drama at school, but it didn’t take much for her thoughts to battle their way back to the surface and push the comfort she could only get from her closest friends to the side. She didn’t tell the girls she had to meet Mason first thing in the morning. She didn’t mention his name at all. She didn’t mention that she was saving as much energy as possible for the conversation she was going to eventually have with her mother. Instead she carefully directed the conversation back to their lives, claiming she needed the distraction. Soon. She’d tell them the truth soon.

  After a while though, even their distractions weren’t enough. She wanted to know more about the new flavors Shae was introducing at her bakery, Sweet Creams, but Xeni knew if she stayed in the chat she’d say something. No, she’d blurt it all out. And then one of them would try to soften the blow and she’d snap at them because none of them had ever been in this situation. They would never understand. So she bowed out, claiming the jet lag and the emotion of laying a loved one to rest after such a long struggle. All that factored in, but those were things she’d expected and prepared herself to handle. Xeni didn’t expect to be the likely cause of a family drama that spanned three decades. Yeah, the sour taste of that was thick enough to survive the night.

  She glanced at her phone and like magic it started vibrating in her hand. MOMMY. She hit decline, then switched over to the last text message she’d sent her mother. Her mother had jammed up the stream with texts that followed every phone call Xeni had ignored. She ignored those texts too. Sh
e’d keep calling and texting, and if Xeni didn’t answer or respond eventually, Joyce Everly-Wilkins would show up. That was the last thing Xeni wanted or needed.

  * * *

  I’m fine.

  Please just give me some space.

  XP

  Kisses, Peanut. The sign off Xeni used when everything was okay. Her mother responded immediately, even though it was barely five a.m. on the West Coast.

  * * *

  Call me back tonight or

  I’m coming out there.

  You need to talk to me. XM

  Kisses, mom.

  * * *

  “See?” she muttered to herself. Xeni slipped her phone into the pocket of her dress, then stopped in her tracks. She stood still for the few moments she needed to remember what she had been doing before her phone rang, then she walked into her aunt’s study. It only took her a couple of minutes to spot exactly what she was looking for on the bottom of a cluttered bookshelf. She plucked an empty manila folder off the top of a full box and wiped the dust on her thigh. She regretted that move for a moment, before looking down and realizing she could barely see the dust on her skirt.

  She sat on the arm of a large wooden chair and pulled out her phone. She had a text chain going with Mason now. He’d checked in twice already, confirming the time when they’d meet at the Kinderack Town Clerk office and then again, asking if she’d had anything to eat. She appreciated the consideration, but holy hell did she want to be left alone, just for a little while. She made a promise to the universe that she’d be nice to him the minute the exasperated thought crossed her mind. She knew she could get bitey when she was stressed and she didn’t want to bite Mason. He was the only other innocent victim in this absurd plot.

  Xeni just wanted a little more time before she had to turn off the rage and go back to being a polite, considerate person. She sighed and started typing, reminding herself that he was definitely was not at fault here. It was those damned Everly Sisters.

  * * *

  Hey just checking in.

  Do you have the proper documentation?

  * * *

  She added the wikiHow link with its cut-to-the-chase descriptions of what they needed to apply for a marriage license in New York, then hit send. She slipped her phone back in her pocket and went to look for the keys to her aunt’s car. Those were easy to find too, hanging on a hook right next to the kitchen door. She grabbed them and went to the garage. She was leaving nothing to chance. Knowing her luck, she’d find the keys to twenty different cars and the garage would be empty. She’d have to marry someone else just to get the location of her aunt’s real carport, then she’d have to have three children of her own to get the combination to another locked door.

  Xeni let out a sigh of relief when she found both cars were where they should be. She pressed the open padlock button on the Mercedes key. The single beep of the alarm, the click of the doors unlocking and flashing of the lights was the first bit of comfort she’d had all day. She just hoped it didn’t explode when she put the thing in drive.

  Another wave of sadness washed over her as she turned the key over in her hand. Why was her aunt doing this? Her mother? What the fuck was she even supposed to call her now? Knowing she didn’t have time for this, she pushed the feelings down again. Numb was definitely the way to be for the foreseeable future and thinking about every detail of her family’s odd betrayal would only make Xeni feel anything but. She walked back into the house to grab her purse and her phone vibrated in her pocket.

  A response from Mason.

  * * *

  Yes, I do.

  Just thought I’d ask again.

  Do ya need a lift to town?

  No thank you.

  I’ll meet you there.

  Grand. See ya soon.

  * * *

  There was no reason to wait. Xeni grabbed her things and drove into town.

  * * *

  The Kinderack Town Hall was easy to find. It was less than two blocks from Mr. Barber’s law office and circus of lies. Xeni found a parking space easily and made her way up the stone steps into a brick building that looked like it might have been a church at one point. Inside, the wood floors were unevenly worn, giving the main entrance a sense of history, but the bright fluorescent lights sucked all the warmth out of the place. Xeni looked at the directory on the wall and found the number for the clerk’s office just as the door opened and Mason McInroy stepped inside.

  “Hello,” he said as he took off a Yankees baseball cap. A strange heat rose in Xeni’s chest at the sound of his voice. It was just an accent, but something about that accent made her want to do things. His general thickness didn’t help either. She looked him up and down, more closely this time. This was a man who did not skip leg day or a meal. The roundness of his belly and his broad chest seemed to bend the McInroy Farm t-shirt to his body’s will in a strangely appealing way.

  She had to ignore the sudden way her clit seemed to spark to life at the thought of his body. Xeni was focusing on staying numb. Numbness and crisp efficiency. She didn’t have the time or the emotional bandwidth to find her potential husband attractive. She glanced at the manila envelope tucked under his arm.

  “How’re you faring this morning?” he asked.

  “I’ve had better days, not gonna lie. Ready?”

  “After you. And I have to say, you look very beautiful today. I like your dress.”

  “Oh. Thank you. You look very handsome as well. I like what your beard is doing,” she said motioning in the general direction of his face.

  “I spend my days in a messy apron. Seems like a good idea to at least have my face in order.”

  “Well, you’re doing a bang up job,” Xeni said, reminding herself instantly why she’d sworn off men. She always sounded like a complete bonehead whenever she engaged with them. Mason took pity on her though and nodded down the hall.

  “Let’s get on with this.”

  “Right.” Xeni turned on her heels and led the way, suddenly very aware of the mass of energy following behind her. They entered the town clerk’s office and started a line behind an elderly White man in a red cap. Xeni almost turned around and walked right out, but when he turned and gave them both a friendly nod, she saw that his hat said MAKE ME YOUNG AGAIN.

  It was cute and all, but people really needed to rethink their novelty apparel. He grabbed what he needed and then it was their turn. A woman with greying blonde hair who wore her two-pack-a-day habit all over her skin waved them over.

  “Hi. We’d like to apply for a marriage license,” Xeni said. “And is there any way we can expedite it?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed for a moment as she considered Xeni, then Mason.

  “One moment.” She sat down at her desk, pressed a couple keys on her keyboard, then slid back in her chair and pulled open a filing cabinet. Her fingers shuffled with frightening speed. There was something terrifying about competent and confident government employees. Her eyes scanned the piece of paper in her hand before she slid her chair back to the counter.

  “Just fill in that information there. And I need to see some ID.” Xeni took the application form and saw her and Mason’s names and addresses already filled in under Spouse A and B.

  “Wait. Why—”

  “Sable Everly’s your aunt. She came by a couple of weeks ago and told me you two would be in for a license. It’s all paid for.”

  “What?!” Xeni shouted in something that could only be described as a hysterical laugh.

  “I just need to see your birth certificates and your IDs and we’ll get this taken care of for you.”

  “I’m—I’m sorry.” Xeni was positive she was having a stroke. “What was your name?”

  “Deborah. Deborah Billings.”

  “Nice to meet you, Deborah. Could you excuse us for a moment?”

  “Sure. Take your time.”

  “Thank you.” Xeni turned to Mason and pointed toward the hallway. “Follow me this way. Just for a s
econd.”

  “Excuse us.” He shot Deborah a polite smile and then motioned for Xeni to lead the way. They waited for a woman and a small child to squeeze by toward the exit. Then Xeni stepped into a doorway marked MAINTENANCE. She appreciated that Mason ducked his head so he could hear her whisper. She ignored the heat that came with their sudden closeness.

  “Is it just me or does this feel like we’re a part of some elaborate prank?” she said quietly.

  “No, that sounds about right.”

  “I’m kinda over it. So here’s what I’m thinking.”

  “Mmmhmm, tell me.”

  “We own this. We have to get married if we want this money. So let’s get fucking married. You’re a cook right? And I saw a whole bakery over at the farm. We pull together some good eats, some low-quality booze. Ask your cousin to donate some apples for some party games. You invite your friends, ’cause we need witnesses. I’ll invite Bess, the only person I know in this town. Maybe we invite Deborah, she seems fun. We have a fucking wedding.”

  “You might be onto something. I almost did this whole bride and groom thing once before, but it didn’t quite go off the way I’d planned,” he said, like he’d finally found someone to dump this hot goss on.

  Xeni felt her eyebrows go up. “Oh really?”

  “A tale for another time. Nothing sinister. All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t hate another crack at doing it properly, on my terms. I’ll get the refreshments and you—you get a dress.”

  “Yesss,” Xeni lightly slapped his shoulder with the back of her hand. She actually smiled when she heard his throaty laugh. “We’ll do this part of it our way. At least we’ll enjoy ourselves for a few hours and then we’ll go back to getting jerked around by my aunt from beyond the grave.”