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Kennedy and I spent the next hour mingling, drinking wine, and eating from the buffet. I introduced Kennedy to my many cousins and their children, to my aunts and uncles on my mother’s side of the family, to my relatives on my father’s side.
Aunt Angelica appeared suddenly and took my arm. “Connor, your mother wishes to speak with you.”
I nodded and reached for Kennedy’s hand.
“Alone, dear,” my aunt said. “It’s a private family matter.”
I leaned into Kennedy and kissed her temple. “I won’t be long, love. Will you be all right?”
“Sure,” she said, giving me a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be here enjoying the garden.”
When I returned to Kennedy some half hour later, I found her standing alone by the drinks fountain, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She looked unusually pale, like she’d seen a ghost.
I didn’t waste any time removing my jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She shrugged. “Do you mind if we go now? I’m feeling a little faint.”
I glanced around at my family who were all deep in conversation. “Of course we can go. It doesn’t look as though anyone is going to miss us.”
On our way out, we passed by the paintings of my grandparents, only this time in reverse. My grandparents appeared more youthful with each canvas, until we reached their very first one. Like Kennedy and me, their journey was just about to begin.
I couldn’t wait to see images of our life together depicted on the walls of our home one day.
Now I’m kicking myself. I should have realized something had happened when I was away from Kennedy.
This evening, years later, I can’t sleep for remembering. As the night progresses, I plump my pillow and turn restlessly, trying in vain to get comfortable. My grandfather must have cornered Kennedy and said those awful things to her while I was called away. I should never have left her side. I should have pressed her harder about what was bothering her at the time.
We were both at fault. And I’m determined to make this right, no matter what it takes.
Chapter 11
Kennedy Takahashi
After a restless night punctuated with bad dreams, I rise early so I can join Skye for breakfast. Connor’s bedroom door is still closed when I come out of the bathroom, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him all morning. He must be sleeping in. It’s not surprising given his jet lag. Besides, he always did need his beauty sleep, the big baby.
When we lived together in London, he’d sleep in on the weekends to make up for having to get up early for work during the week. I’d be up and dressed and on my second cup of coffee before he’d even begin to stir. Half the time, he’d sweet talk me into crawling back in bed with him. I didn’t mind, though, because he’s especially cuddly when he first wakes up. And morning sex was amazing.
I force myself to shake off those bittersweet memories and focus on the here and now.
As soon as I’m dressed, I leave the cottage, quietly closing the door behind me so I don’t wake Prince Charming. The early morning air is crisp and cool, thanks to a nice breeze, and soft white clouds drift across a clear blue sky. The ducks on the lake are squawking their heads off as they gripe at each other. I spot a trio of horses off in the distance grazing on a grassy hill. It’s so different here from Brooklyn. I can appreciate the quiet serenity of the countryside and the slower pace, but I must confess I prefer the hustle and bustle of the city. I especially love my neighborhood in Brooklyn, so quaint and charming. It has all the amenities of Manhattan, but it moves at a more reasonable pace.
I glance up the hill toward the house just in time to see Penny racing down the back porch steps.
She waves at me. “Hi, Aunt Kennedy!”
Skye follows her daughter at a more leisurely pace, Nicky cradled in her arms. Penny jogs down the path to join me, at the last moment throwing herself at me.
I catch her before she knocks us both over. “Good morning, cupcake.”
Penny grins. “I’m not a cupcake.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m Penelope Brenda Williams Carmichael.”
I laugh. “That’s quite a mouthful for such a little girl. If it’s okay with you, I’ll keep calling you Penny.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” she says, tugging me forward. “Come inside so we can eat breakfast. I’m starving.”
