Just Her Type (29 page)

Chapter 36

Dominic stood in the
expansive kitchen at the glass door leading to the canopied deck. The sleet had
turned to rain.

A few minutes later brother Gage entered so
quietly Dominic didn’t realize he wasn’t alone until he felt a hand on his
shoulder.

“You seem down tonight, bro. Feeling your
mortality, that ticking clock now that you’ve turned the big 4-0? Believe me, I
know that feeling. It crept up on me five years ago.”

Dominic refused to subject his family and friends
to lovelorn whining. “No, everything’s great. It’s been a long day, that’s all.
Thank you for the Baldwin book and Salinger collection,” Dominic said, still
amazed Gage had been the one who’d remembered Dominic’s admiration for the
authors’ work. And what you said out there means a lot.”

“It wasn’t much.”

“Oh, but it was for a man of so few words.”

“I wanted you to know how much I admire you, the
path you chose.”

“I thought you wanted to learn the business and be
first in line to take over after Dad retired.”

“Because it had been drummed into us at such an
early age. I didn’t think I had a choice. Same for Manny and Coop. I think
they’re comfortable with their decisions, but I had my own dreams at one time.
You know how it goes as the eldest son. There was this pressure. It was my duty
to do things a certain way. I’ve always been envious of the way you always went
for it.
 
I wished for your sense of
fun and freedom. You’re not always obsessing about what other people think. You
go after what you want. You live your life.”

“Envious of me? But you’re
the
man
,” Dominic said.
“You’ve always been
the
man
. Even in grade school you had
gravitas. And now you’re still
the
man
with it all. A beautiful devoted
wife and a houseful of great kids. The business is doing exceptionally well
with your leadership, even better than when Dad was running things.”

“Yes, I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m not
complaining about the way things turned out.
 
I just wanted to give you your due for a
change. And because it’s your birthday,
a
very special birthday
, I’m going to reveal a deep dark secret. Something
I’ve never told a soul, I mean,
no one
.
Not Manny, Coop, or my darling Whitney.”

“Okay.”

“You remember how I always razzed you about
singing eighties tunes? Well, back in high school, I, um, er, wanted to be a
performer, a star.”
 
Gage averted
his eyes. “And when no one was around, when I had the house all to myself,” he
looked around the kitchen to make sure they were still alone, “I dragged out a
coatrack and used it for a mic stand to let her rip before a full-length mirror
in the master bathroom. The acoustics were better in there. And though we
looked nothing alike, I’m talking night and day, in my mind I
was
…”

“Who?”

Gage leaned in and whispered something.

“What?”

More of the unintelligible as Gage’s voice dropped
even lower.

“Man, either you’re going to tell me or you’re
not.”

Gage looked around again and whispered the name of
the flamboyant superstar.

“He’s one of my favorites.” Dominic said,
laughing. “No Way!”

“
Way
.
With the high pompadour, black eyeliner, the flashy, purple outfits, the
splits, the platform shoes.”

That was the last entertainer Dominic expected
buttoned-down Gage to reveal in that carefully modulated broadcaster’s voice of
his. “So does this mean you’ll join me in a karaoke duet of one of his songs
when we go back out there?”

Long thoughtful pause.

“Come on, time to work on that sense of freedom
and fun.”

“You’re right and because it’s your birthday, you
choose which song.”

 
“You’re on!”

They lifted their hands and shot each other with
double “pistols” as the Tobias brothers had often done as boys when in complete
agreement.

 
“We’d
better get back out there,” Gage said. “C’mon.”

“I’ll join you guys in a minute.” Dominic clapped
him on the back.

When Gage left, Dominic moved back to the door
leading to the covered deck and stared out into the wet night. The music segued
from an old disco hit to the kids’ karaoke favorite, “What Does the Fox Say?”
by Ylvis
.
The youngest Tobiases and Marins made increasingly inane animal
noises as they sang, romped, and stomped to the electronic pop dance beat,
shaking the house while the adults laughed.

Dominic headed back to the family room when the
somber instrumental intro for the oft-covered “Love T.K.O.” replaced the
up-tempo number.
 
This musical arrangement had background
vocals similar to the version recorded by the late R&B star Teddy
Pendergrass, Reginald’s favorite.

Like quicksand, an acute sense of loss slowed
Dominic’s stride. He stopped outside the door to the family room.

In a husky baritone, Reginald crooned the refrain
about a man whose spirits and faith in love were down for the count after yet
another failed affair.
 
Dominic
squeezed his eyes shut and locked his jaw as the despair he’d tried to deny all
evening cut through his chest like a scythe. He gave himself over to his own
truth in those lyrics and an all-consuming physical ache as the adults in the
next room hooted and whistled, urging Reginald on.

“Oh, yeah!”

“Well, all right!”

“Sing it!”

“‘
Love
T.K.O!’
”
they bellowed between
choruses as if at an old tent revival.

When the song ended, Dominic blinked, as if
snapping out of a trance, sickened by this pathetic display of weakness, and
the way he’d let a maudlin melody bushwhack him.
 
He’d been holding on fairly well since
his arrival. Now he wanted nothing more than to tramp outside into the cold,
numbing darkness. Escape from all this revelry and party perfection. But he’d
isolated himself long enough. The people who loved him most had gathered to
celebrate him.
 
Get it together, man.

Dominic rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck
as if preparing to climb back into a ring.
 
Before pushing through the swinging door, he locked a wide smile into
place and thunder clapped over his head.

“The headliner returns!” Dominic boomed to raucous
applause and cheers.

“Woot! Woot! Woot!” The men chanted, pumping their
fists.

Dominic joined in.

“Where have you been, son?” Reginald asked
Dominic. “You missed my performance. I do a damn good Teddy P. if I do say so
myself.”

“Dominic and I are up next!” Gage announced to
everyone.

“What? Gage Tobias? Actually doing karaoke?” Manny
asked as several family members murmured in kind. “
This
I got to see. No, wait, I want in, too!” He leapt from his
seat next to his wife.

Dominic and Gage agreed on a tune.

“Cue the music,” said Dominic, as his two brothers
took the floor before their enthusiastic audience. Gage tossed him a mic.

Chapter 37

Arms loaded with gifts to
place under the Christmas tree, Kendra stepped inside Aunt Jackie’s home,
redolent with the scents of warm gingerbread hot from the oven and fresh Douglas
fir tree. In a corner the TV played a recorded episode of her aunt’s favorite
daytime talk show.

Though Kendra greeted her with the expected
holiday ebullience, Aunt Jackie noted that something was amiss.

“So what’s wrong?” Jackie asked without preamble,
worriedly searching Kendra’s face.

“Nothing! It’s freezing out there is all!
Brrrrrr
!”
 
Kendra placed the presents on the dining
room table, removed her gloves, and rubbed her hands together. “What ornaments
have you whipped up this year?”
 
Aunt Jackie knitted most of her ornaments. Before Uncle Alex died, each
year she’d had a special theme such as knitted miniature booties, sweaters, and
snowmen. The last two Christmases Kendra had decorated the tree using old
ornaments without her aunt’s input. This year marked a return to tradition.

“Tah-dah!” Aunt Jackie lifted a large box of the
most beautiful knitted snowflakes Kendra had ever seen.

“Wow!”

“I started a little late this year, but I’m sure
we have enough for the tree.” Aunt Jackie placed the box on a wing chair.

Kendra removed her coat and hung it in the
noticeably uncluttered foyer closet. “What happened to all the coats that were
in here?”

“I’ve started packing up a lot of things. Those
coats weren’t keeping anyone warm in that closet. Alex would’ve wanted me to
put them to good use by giving them to people who can use them in this cold.”

“Yes, he would,” Kendra said. “I’m so proud of
you.”

“I’m going to need your help going through his
other things.”

“Of course. Just let me know when.”

Aunt Jackie scanned Kendra’s dark jeans and
matching turtleneck. “You’ve lost some weight, girl.”

“Just a little, I think. You know I don’t do
scales.”

“You’ve been in such a hurry, either all bundled
up in coats or wearing baggy clothes, to scurry through the shop on your way to
the office. I haven’t gotten a good look at you in a while. What’s going on?”

“I’m more fit, that’s all. I’ve been running. A
lot of running.” In truth, the only running Kendra had done was to the bathroom
after scarfing down a large tin of Christmas cookies and then chasing them with
a bad pilsner she’d picked up at a questionable bodega.
 
Death
by snickerdoodles and skunky beer.
 
The most pitiful way to go.

As Kendra flopped on the sofa, she watched two of
the three co-hosts on the talk show gather at a set kitchen. Their guest was a
twenty-something actress, who starred on one of those interchangeable CW
channel soaps starring a cast of millennials mail ordered from an
Abercrombie & Fitch
catalog.

Everyone with Internet access, WordPress, camera,
and a Sephora/Pottery Barn/Nordstrom/Costco credit card was a
beauty/decorating/fashion/foodie guru these days. If you had all four you could
brand yourself as a type of Martha Stewart for the social media age. This
actress, a client of Piper Hodges if Kendra recalled correctly, had a new book,
website, and a line of kitchen accessories to pimp. Diversification was a smart
move, but Kendra wished the young woman’s publicist had advised her not to fuss
with her hair and nose so much while demonstrating how to prepare a “snappy,
low-fat” recipe from her book.
Blech.

 
“You
haven’t seemed like yourself,” Aunt Jackie said. “I didn’t want to push at
first, but whatever it is obviously hasn’t passed. Is this about Vanessa and
her new husband?”

“Maybe fourth time is the charm.” Kendra removed
her boots and wriggled her toes inside toasty socks as she watched one co-host
cut peeled sweet potatoes into shoestring strips to help the actress.

“That’s what she said, ‘fourth time is the charm.’
Ashton seems to care for her deeply. And he’s patient.” Aunt Jackie got up and
went into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the actress continued squicking Kendra
out. The young woman raked her long tresses a few more times and plucked at her
nostrils while kneading a pile of ground turkey and shaping it into patties
with her bare hands. As the meat sizzled in a large skillet with other
ingredients, Aunt Jackie returned with two cups of hot chocolate and a platter
of Santa hat macaroons, toffee bars, and gingerbread cookies baked for the
carolers expected later. “Now eat!”

“I can’t.” Kendra winced, clutching her middle as
she watched more hair-and-nose flicks on the small screen.

“C’mon now. Grab a handful. Two handfuls. These
are your favorites.” She put the tray on the coffee table and sat next to
Kendra.

 
Kendra
took the smallest sip of the drink with a generous glob of whipped cream.
“Everything’s fine. I’m not hungry. What’s going on with you?”

“I have great news. The shop’s books are starting
to look good again. Just a sec.”
 
Aunt Jackie went to her bedroom, answered her ringing phone, and chatted
for a good fifteen minutes.

That salty taste rushed Kendra’s mouth, signaling
intensified queasiness. She shuddered as the co-hosts chowed down on those
booger-and-hairball burgers
.
The co-host
who had been cutting the sweet potatoes two minutes before removed a second pan
of fully-cooked sweet potato fries from the set’s oven for the
after
shot.
Voila!

Aunt Jackie returned. “Sorry it took so long, but
I had to take that call.” She extended a piece of paper to Kendra. “Here you
go!”

“What’s that?”

“The first repayment. We agreed when you started
helping The Sassy Sheep it was only a loan.” She shook the check at Kendra.
“Take it.”

“No,
you
said it was a loan.”

“That was the only way I could accept your sweet,
generous offer in good conscience. You’re not rich, honey.” Her aunt had
insisted on classifying Kendra’s help as a business transaction and even had
documents drawn up. “Please take it.”

“But there’s no rush,” Kendra said, though she did
need the money. “Take more time to make sure things have stabilized at the
shop.”

Aunt Jackie shook the check at her again. “Please
accept the check.”

“All right, all right. Calm down.” Kendra took it,
thinking she would not cash it until the shop had a few more months of
operating in the black.

“Business started booming again long before
Halloween, believe it or not. And there’s other news. I have a new business
partner. Donalisa! She just called.”

“Mrs. Findley?”

Aunt Jackie revealed that Mrs. Findley, who had
received a life insurance windfall from a policy on her late husband, was now
investing in The Sassy Sheep.

“Isn’t that great?” Aunt Jackie said. “No more
worries about money! And I can start paying you back!”

“But you’ve been the sole owner for so long. Sure
you can handle a partner?
 
It will
take some adjustment after years of unilaterally making decisions,” Kendra
said. How would her aunt adapt to sharing the reins of her business with
someone else? Even Uncle Alex had been hands-off, save for handling repairs,
heavy lifting, maintenance around the shop, and The Sassy Sheep website.

“Donalisa has some great ideas and a solid
business background. Before she retired she ran her own successful travel
agency. Well, it was successful before the Internet and those discount,
book-your-own trip sites took a serious bite out of business.”

 
“I
know all about that.” Kendra thought of the way the Internet and digitalization
had drastically changed the publishing industry.

 
“You
look so happy, Auntie.”

“I am! I have a good feeling about this new
partnership. And you’ll receive another payment, with interest, in exactly one
month. Now that I’ve shared my news. What’s yours? You’re holding back.
Something is wrong.”

 
“Dominic and I are over,” she said with a
sigh.

“What happened?” Aunt Jackie got up and turned
down the television’s volume.

 
“It
wasn’t quite right.”

“In what way?”

“He…” Kendra’s voice hitched. “No,
I
screwed it up like every other
relationship I’ve had. Something is obviously wrong with me. The apple doesn’t
fall from the tree and all.”

“Kendra, you’re not Van.”

“Oh, no? So Vanessa’s capriciousness and
whack-a-doodle tendencies are not imbedded in my DNA? Could’ve fooled me.”

“Genes aren’t always our destiny.”
 
Aunt Jackie moved closer and placed a
comforting arm around Kendra’s shoulders.

“At first, I was in denial, trying to put it all
on the guys. They were too controlling. Too this, too that. Not enough of this
or that.
 
I’d made the wrong
choices. I tried deluding myself. ‘Just choose a different sort of guy and
you’re golden, girl,’ I said. I had a knack for choosing men who always gave
more and loved more than I ever could. And then there was the nonsense about
avoiding the,” she made air quotes, “‘cute couple curse.’
 
All a smoke screen.
 
But the truth is, I have too many
jacked-up notions to make a suitable lifetime mate for any
sane
man.”

“Don’t you think you’re being overly dramatic?”

“No. I. Am. The. Problem.” It felt good to finally
admit aloud what was painfully obvious.

And Dominic’s success and smarts only aroused her
insecurities. She’d spend her days poised at the ready, always feeling as if
she had something to prove.
 
Never
good enough.
 
After all, her own
mother considered her an inconvenience.
 
Vanessa had always chosen lovers over Kendra. And then there was that
mystery in the back of Kendra’s mind. A long-buried memory that had resurfaced
two years ago, when Vanessa returned for Uncle Alex’s funeral. Kendra had never
told anyone about it, not even Aunt Jackie.

Kendra had remembered one sweltering summer night
when she was about eight years old. It had been difficult to sleep because of
the heat and a stomachache.
 
Afraid
of the dark, she often kept a small Cinderella nightstand lamp on. When she’d
dozed off, she’d awakened in the middle of the night to find Vanessa sitting on
the twin bed clutching a pillow. The glow of the lamp illuminated a face that
looked blank and scary, not one warm with a mother’s love.
 

How long had she been just sitting there, staring
at a sleeping Kendra?

“Mommy?”
Kendra asked, heart thundering as she sat upright.

“I didn’t
mean to wake you,” Vanessa said rotely, placing the pillow aside and smoothing
sweaty curls away from Kendra’s face. “Just changing and fluffing your pillow.
It’s so hot in here. That one is damp. I’ll get another one. Now, go back to
sleep.”

As if in a trance, Vanessa rose to her feet,
walked across the room, and did not return that night.

Kendra blinked, her eyes now focused on her aunt
sitting next to her. Bile rose in Kendra’s throat, and she raced to the
restroom to retch.
 
She closed the toilet lid and sat on
it. What if Kendra hadn’t awakened? Was it a false memory? Kendra had made such
a drastic leap regarding her mother’s intentions that night.
 
But had her mother contemplated the
unthinkable?

One evening when Vanessa had slipped inside her
own bedroom to have what she’d called “private time” with a honey bear, Kendra
had watched a cable movie depicting filicide. A mother had smothered her three
children to death.
 
She’d found that
part more alarming than the acts in the graphic sex scenes. Power of
suggestion? But she couldn’t quite remember if she’d seen that movie before or
after the pillow “incident.” Kendra had lots of realistic nightmares as a
child. She had also suffered from night terrors at one point, she’d been told.

Soon after that disturbing night Vanessa had sent
Kendra to live with the Millers.

Would Kendra ever know the truth?

“You okay in there?” Her aunt twisted the knob on
the locked door.

“Yes!” Kendra forced a bright note in her voice as
she sprang up and turned on the faucet. “I have an upset stomach, that’s all.”

When the images began haunting Kendra, she’d tried
to rationalize them away. As a child, she’d had a nightmare because of that
movie. But the doubt and hurt festered. Even if she had imagined it all, that
part of her that actually believed Vanessa was capable of such a thing had
fueled a sense of shame. She cleaned herself up and returned to the living
room, where Aunt Jackie looked worried. “Should I get the Pepto-Bismol?”

Kendra sat. “I feel as if Vanessa wished I’d never
been born.”

“We never discussed abortion. Yes, she brought you
to us—”

“But…” Kendra stopped. She would keep her secret
about what she suspected might have happened that night if she hadn’t awakened.

“Your mother had problems, long before you came
along,” Aunt Jackie said. “And to be honest, I’m surprised she’s done as well
as she has. Before she came to live with my family, she’d already seen a side
of human nature no child should be subjected to. At the hands of her own
parents. It was terrifying, honey.”

Kendra’s mouth fell open. “They were abusive?”

Aunt Jackie took the next half hour sharing
details of incidents so vile, Kendra’s stomach turned over again.

 
“I
thought they were incarcerated because of bad checks, credit card scams,
 
a shoplifting ring.”
 
Not violent crimes, but unsavory enough
she’d been too embarrassed to share this information with Dominic when he’d
asked about them.
 
Vanessa, Aunt
Jackie, and Uncle Alex had told her these tales to explain why she was never
allowed to meet them.