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“Believe me, if I’d let my upbringing affect me, I’d be locked up in a penitentiary somewhere.”
“Was it really that bad?”
“Unfortunately, yes. You know those old teen movies where there’s always this nasty rich kid who tortures the poor but valiant hero?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I was that nasty rich kid.”
“I don’t believe it. You’re immature and annoying, but you’re not cruel.”
He raised one eyebrow at her.
“Please tell me.” She unwrapped a package of cheese and crackers she’d hurriedly purchased when he’d stopped for petrol and it became apparent that he had no interest in lunch.
He shrugged. “Everybody in Wynette knows how I was raised, so I guess you’ll hear about it as soon as you hit town.” He slipped into the left lane, passing a pickup. “My mother was beautiful, born rich, and not exactly known for her brains.”
Emma immediately thought of Torie, then decided that wasn’t fair. She suspected that Torie Traveler was extremely intelligent, but hid it just as her brother did.
“My father grew up poor,” Kenny said, “but he was smart and hardworking. I guess it was a case of opposites attracting. They married quick, then found out they basically hated each other’s guts. Neither of them would consider a divorce. My father won’t ever admit he’s failed at anything, and Mother said she couldn’t live through the disgrace.”
“Rather old-fashioned.”
“My mother spent her life on that thin edge between neurosis and psychosis, with psychosis winning out as she got older. She was a classic narcissist married to a man who ignored her, so, as soon as I was born, she made me the center of her life. Whatever I wanted, she gave me, even if I shouldn’t have had it. She never said no, not about anything. And because of that, I was supposed to worship her.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not. I paid her back with bad behavior, and the more she indulged me, the more I pushed her. Then, whenever something did go wrong in my life, I blamed her for it. I was just about the most unpleasant child you can imagine.”
No wonder, she thought, feeling a stab of pity for the boy he’d been, as well as reluctant admiration for his honesty. “Where was your father while all this was going on?”
“Building his company. I guess he did his best when he was around. He made sure he pointed out all my faults and practiced some harsh discipline, but he wasn’t at home enough to be effective. I was such a repulsive little cuss I can’t blame him for not hanging around more.”
But he did blame him. Emma heard it in his voice. What a confusing upbringing it must have been to have one overly indulgent parent while the other only criticized. “From what I heard earlier,” she said carefully, “I gather your mother didn’t feel the same way about Torie that she felt about you.”
“That’s what I really blame her for. I was four when Torie was born, and, like any four-year-old, I didn’t cater to having a stranger in the house. But instead of protecting Torie, Mother abandoned her to baby-sitters. Nothing was going to upset her perfect little Kenny, you understand. Certainly not another female in the household.”
“Your poor sister.”
He nodded. “Luckily, my father fell in love with Torie the m
oment he set eyes on her. When he was home, he kept her right by him, gave her all his attention, and made sure the baby-sitters reported directly to him. But he wasn’t home enough, and she’s still got a lot of scars.”
Torie wasn’t the only one with scars. His father’s favoritism of his daughter must have been just as damaging as his mother’s overindulgence. “Where’s your mother now?”
“She died from a brain aneurysm just before I turned seventeen.”
“And you were left with your father.”
“One other person had shown up in my life by then, and, for some reason I can’t imagine, he took an interest in me. He taught me everything I know about golf, and, at the same time, he made sure I learned the hard rules of life. Man, was he tough. But he gave me a chance.”
Interesting that it was someone other than his father who’d seen his potential. “Who was he?”
Kenny didn’t seem to have heard. “One lesson he taught me early on was how to treat my sister.” He laughed. “He’d call her up right before we headed out for the golf course, and he wouldn’t let me tee off unless she told him I’d been behaving with her. Can you imagine? A seventeen-year-old boy held hostage by his twelve-year-old sister.” He laughed again. “Fortunately, Torie doesn’t have much bloodlust, and after the first few months she lost her appetite for revenge. Not too long after that we discovered we liked each other. We’ve been just about each other’s best friend ever since.”
“What about you and your father?”
“Oh, we got ourselves straightened out a long time ago.” He spoke too casually. “Once I started to win some golf tournaments, he realized I wasn’t completely worthless. Now he sets up his whole schedule so he can watch me play.”
