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Kenna shook her head, grumbling under her breath. I came down the stairs of the porch and took the same path Kenna had just a few minutes ago. In front of Kenna’s mom, I held out my hand.
“Dec.”
She slid her hand into mine and didn’t let go. “Mona. So very pleased to meet you, handsome.”
“It’s Dec, Mom,” Kenna corrected.
Mona slid her arm through mine, clinging tightly to my side, even though I hadn’t offered her my arm. She smiled up at me, a glint in her eyes. “Can you get my bag, Kenna?”
I could see where Kenna got her pretty eyes, the height, and the body shape, but everything else was different. Her mother had dark brown hair without a hint of red. Her skin was lightly tanned and devoid of freckles. Kenna’s coloring must have come from her father, a man she’d never mentioned.
I looked over my shoulder at Kenna to see her glaring at the back of her mother’s head, but she grabbed the suitcase handle and wheeled it behind us as I escorted Mona into Maeve’s house. The second we cleared the threshold, I disentangled from her and stepped back. I couldn’t be arm in arm with the enemy when entering my late friend’s house. Not that Mona was my enemy, but she surely wasn’t a friend. Anyone who would ignore their sister’s repeated attempts to reconcile while facing down death was not someone I wished to be close with.
Mona gasped as the air-conditioning hit her, then had her head on a swivel taking it all in. “Flamingo chairs? Really?”
“Mother!” Kenna snapped, shutting the door and folding her arms across her chest. “You are welcome to stay with me, but criticizing anything is off-limits.”
Mona’s eyes rounded into an innocence that didn’t work on Kenna or myself. “I wasn’t criticizing, honey. It’s just an interesting choice.”
I moved closer to Kenna’s side, feeling highly underdressed in the arctic tunnel of Maeve’s house. “How long are you planning to stay?”
Mona shrugged her thin shoulders. “I’m not sure, but I can’t be a whole country away from my only daughter.”
Kenna sighed. “How about we talk about this later? Can I get you something to drink?”
Mona smiled, as if she knew she’d get her way. “I’d love some water. Those airplanes just suck you dry.” She patted my bare chest as she passed by on her way to the kitchen, following Kenna. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and begged Maeve for patience.
“Oh my goddess!”
I followed, wanting to help Kenna, but wishing I was anywhere but here. Mona gaped at the kitchen, her hands on her cheeks.
“I know, Mom. I’ll update it eventually, but everything has been maintained meticulously.” Kenna poured water into a glass from the pitcher in the fridge.
Her mom ignored her outstretched hand. Her gaze stayed fixated on the green Formica countertops. “It’s exactly like our house growing up,” Mona said with a small voice. Then she gasped and ran out of the room, her wide, brightly colored pants swishing behind her. Her footsteps sounded through the living room and then up the stairs. A door slammed and all went silent.
I stared at Kenna who stared back at me.
“Was she crying?” I asked quietly. I’d only known her a few minutes, but the woman seemed certifiably insane.
Kenna clanked the water glass on the countertop and sagged against it. “I think so. I don’t know. One never really knows with Mona. She’s prone to emotional outbursts of a wide variety.”
I put my hand on Kenna’s back and rubbed in a circle until she lifted her head. Her eyes were troubled, the little lines between her eyebrows showing. I hadn’t realized that she’d stopped frowning so much at some point during her stay here in Florida, but one visit from her mother and the frowns were back.
“I’m so sorry,” Kenna started. “She caught me coming back home and…” She trailed off. “I didn’t mean for anyone to know about last night.”
“Hey.” I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I’m not mad, sunshine. I’m just…” I shook my head, wondering how to put words to how I was feeling. “Maeve was my friend.”
Kenna searched my face. “And she had bad things to say about my mother.”
“No. Actually, she didn’t. She just told me about trying to reach out to her with no response. My friend was dying and her own sister wouldn’t pick up the phone. I’m just defensive.”
Kenna nodded, her soft cheeks rubbing against my hands. “I understand. Mona’s not my favorite either, but to be fair, Aunt Maeve never said anything about being sick.”
I sighed, thinking of my old friend. She was always looking out for others and probably thought keeping her diagnosis from Mona was the right thing to do for her little sister. Everything was happening too fast. Kenna and I slept together, sharing our bodies intimately, yet there was still so much we didn’t know about each other. Things I wanted to know.
“Tell me about her?” I asked, releasing her face and gesturing to the dining room where the flamingo chairs waited for us.
We both sat, our knees touching. Kenna swiped her fingers under her eyes. “I must look a mess.”
