“You deserve this and more.” He pulled a chair out for her, poured her a glass of white wine, and cut her a big piece of yellow and white cake, despite her protests that a tiny slice would do just fine. As she sat there drinking and chomping away, getting an instant sugar high from the delicious icing, he said, “Let me take Diesel outside for a second.”
“Please do. He’s been whimpering since we came back in the house.”
As she sat alone, reflecting, worry consumed her.
She picked up her phone and dialed her mother.
“Hi, Kimberly,” Mom said in the chipper tone she used when she was attempting to sound happier than she actually was. “You were amazing tonight, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
“And even though I was only able to speak with Jack for a few minutes this evening, he seems like a nice man. I wish I could have spoken to him longer.”
“Yeah, me too. Mom…” Kim placed her fork down on her plate and swallowed. “Why did you decide to stay in town? You didn’t even tell me you were coming tonight. I thought you were back in New York. If I would have known, I would’ve made arrangements for you and—”
“It was last minute. I was at the airport and came across a flyer that read, ‘Speaking for the Silenced.’ There were Native American designs and symbols, and then I saw Kimberly Milton and the Fairbanks Dance Troop printed on the bottom. And there your picture was. I called the number, and they said they had no tickets available. I said I’d pay triple, so they let me stand in the back. You were amazing! I can’t believe you pulled off such a stellar show all by yourself—and those children! My goodness. I cried! I laughed! I sang. I’ve never been prouder of you, Kimberly, and I was already pretty damn proud as it was.”
She could hear the smile in her mother’s words, and it filled her with joy.
“I didn’t do it by myself, Mom. I had a lot of help, and the children were wonderful. They did most of the work.”
“You’re far too modest. I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, Mom.” She heard Diesel prancing about, and Jack telling him to settle down as they headed to the backyard. “I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Yes. I’m flying out tomorrow morning. This time, for real.” Kim knew her mother’s arraignment was approaching, and her stomach knotted like a rope. A part of her didn’t want her mother to go… a part of her feared for her mother’s future. Her resentment and anger toward the woman was waning, and it left her in a delicate position.
“Call me when you get back to New York, okay?”
“I will, honey. Goodnight.”
Mom ended the call quickly, as if she couldn’t take another second of talking to a daughter she wouldn’t get to see for a while. Perhaps her emotions were getting the better of her. Kim picked up her fork once more and tasted a little more icing, then sipped on the wine, enjoying the peace and quiet.
When she was done, she cleared the table, placed the dishes in the kitchen sink, and put the cake away before retreating upstairs to take a long, hot shower. She emerged from the bathroom to find Jack sitting at his table with a knife in his hand, carving out something. Diesel was at his feet.
She crept behind him, kissed him on the head, gave Diesel a scratch behind the ears, then slipped into the bed.
“Are you going to join me?”
“…In a little bit.”
She wanted to discuss further what he’d learned from the girl at the recital. All he’d told her was the same abbreviated version he’d told Walt. He appeared so reserved now. His emotions had reached their peak after the show, but now, it was almost as if he’d processed everything, made peace with it, and had no more to share.
“You’re not going to listen to Walt, are you? You’re going to try and find out who Beau is.”
“I never said that.” He coughed, then slid the sharp knife across the rough surface, over and over again until it was smooth.
“You never denied it, either.”
She turned away and pulled the sheets farther up her body. She listened to the crackling sound of the fireplace, and how it mingled with that of the knife carving into wood. It was a comforting, familiar sound, in a strange sort of way. She tried to stay awake, regardless of the way he was shutting her out, but exhaustion gave way and before she knew it, she was swimming in shades of deep purple and gray. Sleep came and body-slammed her. And she was down for the count.
…Several days later
“No, I’ve had it.” Jack closed the back door, leaving Diesel outside. Once again, he’d come home from work to find trash strewn all over the place. It was rather odd, because Diesel had stopped such nonsense, and seemed to be over the urge. It didn’t make sense why he’d revert to his old ways like this. Not only that, but he’d also been pawing at the back door, leaving claw marks. His behavior was out of character, and destructive. The poor beast whimpered as he looked at him from the back door window. He knew the wolf would be fine—he’d left water and food out there with him on the back porch, as well as a blanket and heater, though it was in the high 50s outside, unseasonably warm. It had been a strange, unfulfilling week, one that filled him with angst.