Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (14 page)

She flopped down next to me, snatching the joint from my fingers. “I miss you, Kenna. And I miss Alys. We’re supposed to all be in this together.”

“We are,” I said, taking back the joint. “It’s just…there’s so much I need to do. If I slow down right now, I might actually feel how exhausted I must be. If I keep going, then I won’t lose momentum.”

“It’s because of what happened at Twisted Festivus,” she said softly, making my heart freeze for a few seconds. “I saw hope in you for the first time in a long time, and it scared the shit out of you. So, now, you’re doing everything you can not to think about it.”

Heaving a pungent sigh, I handed back the joint. “So?”

“So, I want my best friend back.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere, Lili. I just need to stay focused and make it through the next four years of my life, okay? You know I’m always here if you need me.”

“I know, but I get the feeling that you’re the one who needs someone, not me. And I don’t think you’ll ask.”

“I’m fine, honestly,” I told her, knowing deep down that I really wasn’t. But I would be—one day.

So, Lili backed off and let me do what I had to do.

Monday through Friday, I would go to school. Saturdays, I’d work at the center, and Sundays, I’d recharge my batteries. At the pace that I was moving, I hardly noticed that time even existed.

Before we even realized it, two and a half years had passed.

“I think we should go through your mother’s things.”

Surprised, I looked up at Grandma. “Really?”

The day was bright with sunlight and a pleasant breeze. We were having lunch on the back porch. I’d made her a fat turkey sandwich with kale chips, and she was pile-driving through it like she hadn’t eaten in days. She was in heaven with the crunchy chips and toasted bread. Grandma loved noisy food.

She nodded. “It’s time, honey. I see now what a waste it’s been, holding on to everything for so long. It should’ve been done a long while ago.”

“All right.”
I wonder what’s gotten into her.

It was June, and I’d just completed my education and passed my medical boards in the ninety-ninth percentile. With all the extra hours I had put into my schooling, I had six months left of my internship to go, but I was already Dr. Kenna MacGregor.

“When do you think you’ll have some free time?”

“I’m on break until July, remember? I start the rest of my internship in two weeks.”

“That’s right. Alys should be coming home soon, too. Is she planning on moving back in with her parents?”

“I believe so. At least at first.”

“You should ask her if she wants to live here.”

“Where would she sleep? She’d kind of need a bedroom.”

“She can have your old room.”

“Are you kicking me out for Alys then?”

She threw a glare my way. “You’ll take the master bedroom, Kenna.”

Stunned, I asked her, “Seriously? You want me to take Mom’s room?”

“It’s not hers anymore, honey. It’s yours. You’re a doctor now. You should have a nice place to retreat to. You certainly deserve it.”

Wow. Didn’t really see that one coming.
“Well, thanks.”

She reached over and patted my hand. “I’m so proud of you, honey. You’ve worked your ass off and have accomplished so damn much. I’m just sorry I haven’t been a better support for you. I’ve been locked in my grief over your mother’s passing, but I want you to know that I’m so grateful to you and to little Liliana, too. You two have helped me so much, and I think you two deserve something special. Do you think you’d be up to redecorating the bedrooms?”

“That sounds pretty cool.”

“And you should ask Alys if there’s anything special she would want done for her new room.”

I could only stare at her in amazement.

These last few years had indeed been hard on her. Physically and mentally, she had sort of collapsed in on herself. She tried to hide her pain from us, but I always sensed it just below the surface. Her mental anguish had manifested itself physically. Over time, she had developed an odd curve to her spine, the discs slipping out of alignment, and there was really nothing that could be done to correct it.

I would give her treatments when it got bad, but she didn’t want to bother me since I already had so much to do. She’d flat-out refused to have acupuncture though, claiming she was no human pincushion.

“It’ll be nice, having you girls living together. I know you’ve missed Alys so much, with her being in Lafayette.”

That much was true. I did miss my Muffin.

“I’ll call Alys later tonight and see what she says,” I told her.

She’ll say yes. She’s missed me just as much as I’ve missed her.

“Good. Now, would you please stop hiding your marijuana in different places? My memory isn’t as good as it once was, and I can’t nick a pinch if I can’t find it.”

My jaw totally dropped with that bombshell.

Saturday morning found us freshly caffeinated and ready to tackle the master bedroom. I’d always loved this room.

As we headed inside, Grandma took my hand and squeezed gently. “Yes, this is yours now. It really should have been yours much sooner, but I suppose it’s not too late.”

Starting with the walk-in closet, we went through Mom’s clothes and shoes, taking what we liked and donating the rest to charity. It was really a stroke of luck that these things hadn’t dry-rotted.

My new prized possession was Mom’s old
ZoSo
T-shirt from the seventies. Originally black, it was faded from having been lovingly worn over the decades. I had always wanted this shirt, and now, it was mine.

Lili joined us after she’d woken up and had her morning coffee.

I inherited Mom’s jewelry. None of that was being donated.

Her knickknacks, wrapped in newspaper and boxed up, were placed in the attic. We each took a few things, either items we had loved from afar or knew they were her favorites. I claimed some of her picture frames with old photos of us in them.

I decided that I wanted to keep her antique mahogany furniture, and Grandma was happy about that. The giant four-poster was badass, and I had to admit, it was going to be nice sleeping on something bigger than a double-sized bed.

By midday, we’d made serious progress.

We headed downstairs, so I could make us some lunch. Ever since I’d earned my degree in nutrition, I’d been a little obsessed with providing tasty healthy meals. There had been no complaints so far, but I knew Lili missed some greasy fried goodness. She would sneak off to get herself some fried chicken from time to time, eating it in her car like a starved criminal.

I whipped us up some omelets and dark leafy green salads and paired it with fresh brewed iced tea and lime from my fancy iced tea machine.

“This is wonderful!” Grandma chirped. She munched her way through the foliage. “I think I shit about three times a day since you took those healthy-cooking classes.”

Unfortunately, Grandma made that remark just as Lili had taken a huge gulp of iced tea, and it sprayed out of her nose and mouth all over my face. Coughing and wheezing, Lili mopped herself up as Grandma heartily whacked her between the shoulder blades.

I was laughing so hard that I was in danger of passing out.

“I love you, Grandma Betty,” Lili choked.

“Why, I love you, too, Liliana.”

There wasn’t much left for us to do but pull out the boxes from under the bed. Some of them contained hundreds, if not thousands, of old photos.

“These should be in albums!” admonished Grandma. “I guess this will be something I can do while you girls are at work.”

“They seem to be organized,” I remarked. “It probably won’t be too much of a task, getting them in albums. These are all of me when I was a baby.”

“Wow! These are of your parents when they were really young, definitely younger than we are now.”

Grandma took the one of my parents from Lili and smiled. “Yes, they were young when they met. Your mother was eighteen when Sigmund came in with his good looks and fancy accent, sweeping her off her feet. He was a very handsome man.”

“I think he still is,” I stated. “Although, he’s gotten a bit out of shape over the last few years.”

Thumbing through some photos that had been taken in the early eighties when I was a toddler, I discovered one when I was around a year or so. At least, I was standing on my own feet. In it, there was an adorable little boy, maybe three or four years old. He had golden brown hair and dimples in his smiling cheeks. I was pretty chubby and dimpled myself.

“Grandma, do you know who this is? The little boy?” I asked, handing her the picture.

Adjusting her glasses over the bridge of her nose, she took a good, long look before replying, “Why, I believe that’s the little Deveraux boy, Louis and Margot’s son.”

My mouth dropped open, and Lili’s head snapped up so fast that I swore, I’d heard a tiny sonic boom as it broke the sound barrier.

“Did you say
Deveraux
?” I was stunned.

“Mmhmm…they used to live next door.” She nodded and turned the photo over, reading something on the back. “Yes, little Philip Deveraux.” She took another glance at the front. “My, this wasn’t long before Margot died, maybe a year or so.”

Handing it to me, I quickly read my mother’s handwriting on the back.

Little Philip, age 4 years, and his Baby Girl, age 1.3 years.

Christmas 1981.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I was floored.

Lili’s jaw hung open, and I couldn’t tell if her eyes wanted to bug out of her head or go crossed.

“Wh-what does it mean—Baby Girl?” I asked my Grandma.

“Eh…oh! From his first glance, he was just so smitten with you. Louis told him that he had to be careful with you, that you were just a little baby girl, and I think he thought that was your name because he called you that the whole time you were here. You were
his
baby girl. I believe his heart fair broke when your mother took you back to Pensacola.”

Lili started twitching, so I handed her the picture before she went into a full-blown seizure.

“
He’s called you that before, you know
.”
I heard the echo of my mother’s words from all those years ago.

Weird, I hadn’t really thought about it for a while. I still fantasized about being with him, but I thought I had just accepted the fact that it wasn’t going to happen. It had been nearly five years—
five fucking years
—since the night we kissed. Four years had passed since we last saw each other, and he had made no attempt to find me.

NOLA’s Junk had recorded another album,
Moniker Mayhem
, which had been released a little over a year ago. They were scheduled to release another one in just a few weeks. They had done a world tour, coming back to the States. They hadn’t come to Louisiana or anywhere within a twelve-hour drive or else we would have gone to see them. That had been a bit heartbreaking for me, but I had been so busy that I hadn’t needed the distraction.

Under my own bed sat a massive scrapbook of all the magazine clippings and interviews they’d done and any pictures I could get my hands on. There were also the photos Lili had taken at their concerts plus ticket stubs and other memorabilia. I’d be well embarrassed if anyone ever found out that Dr. Kenna MacGregor had a severe obsession with Phil fucking Deveraux and the band he fronted. Still, I would keep collecting their crap every chance I got. I guessed everyone had vices, and mine happened to be weed and a fantasy life with a famous giant named Phil.