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4
EDEN
KENNEDY TOOK ME BACK to the shopping center where I had left Allen’s Oldsmobile only to discover the café it was parked in front of had it towed.
Great.
It ended up in an impound lot owned by the tow truck company, and at first, I thought maybe that was for the best. It would be one less thing I needed to worry about. Even though having my own car to drive around town and get to and from work would have been nice, I didn’t need to hold on to anything from my past.
It was Allen’s car, and it needed to stay in the past—right where my mom and Allen himself needed to stay.
Not to mention, there was always the chance he could trace the car back to me somehow or report it stolen. Then again, Allen wasn’t the kind to bring the police into his affairs. If he wanted to get to me, he would do it without the help of the law since he was sure to do something illegal.
No.
It was probably for the best that I didn’t keep it with me.
Then reality kicked in, and I knew I needed that damn car. I highly doubted Allen would kick up a fuss over the stupid rust bucket, which was probably stolen anyway. And I knew I couldn’t expect Aunt Kennedy to drive me around town all the time.
Sure, I could walk most places in Las Vegas. It looked as though most people did walk, but when I needed to go farther than The Strip, I would need a car.
The tow truck driver seemed shady enough to let me get it out even though the car wasn’t in my name, but I knew he would not let that happen for free. So until I had a few crisp hundred-dollar bills in hand, the car would have to remain in impound. Aunt Kennedy offered to get it out for me, thinking the car was mine, but I refused.
The car wasn’t a necessity right now, but it would be, and by then, I would be able to get it out on my own.
Once we left the tow company, we went to Aunt Kennedy’s place, which was a luxury condo a mile or so down The Strip from Empire Sevens.
Her place was beautiful and clean, which was unlike any place I had ever stayed at before. I had no idea my aunt was living so richly, and I had a feeling it had to do with where she worked.
It was a lavish complex with all the amenities. And unlike Empire Sevens, which was swathed in all things green and gold, Aunt Kennedy’s place was without color. Everything was white and clean, streamlined with simple furnishings and no personal pictures to speak of.
Secretly, I had hoped I would see a picture of my mother and me somewhere in her home, but every place my eyes touched was flawless and impersonal. It was as if she was trying to forget, and honestly, after the past two years I had, I couldn’t say I blamed her.
Somehow, though, her cold condo still managed to feel more like a home than the rust bucket of a trailer I had left behind.
Of course, she lived in the penthouse, which was two stories and large. A bank of windows looking out over the desert city covered an entire wall, filling the open floor plan of the living room and kitchen space with the glistening lights of the Vegas Strip.
“Wow, this is …” I let my sentence hang, unable to find the words to describe the neat and tidy place.
Aunt Kennedy chuckled. “I know. It’s not very homey, but I plan on buying a house soon. There’s no need to personalize this place since it will be going on the market soon.”
That made sense, I supposed.
“Come on,” she said, waving me toward her. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”
The tour consisted of the open living room and kitchen, followed by two bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a balcony off her master bedroom that I deemed my favorite spot in her place.
After giving me a tour, I followed behind her to a small hallway where she opened a door and began pulling out fresh linens for me.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked, pulling a blanket from the linen closet.
She didn’t look at me, but I could see her lips tight with worry. The least I could do was relieve her worry a bit since she was kind enough to help me and give me a place to stay for a bit.
“I couldn’t stay there anymore, Aunt Kennedy. Mom’s different now, and …” I stopped, not wanting to relive the past two years. “Things are just different.”
She finally looked up at me, watching me for a second as if she was waiting for me to crack and spill the influx of drama flowing through my exhausted brain. Once she realized I wasn’t going to say any more, she handed over the blanket and didn’t push any further.
I appreciated that about her.
