Damage Done (31 page)

He finally looked at her
then, his face full of surprise, sadness and then anger.

"I guess that’s it
then."

He stood and walked away, pushing his chair back angrily as
he made his way to his room. She thought the conversation was over, but then he
came marching back in, paperwork in his hand. He threw it on the table for her
to see.

      
Motion to Establish Paternity

      
The State of Texas vs. Kenneth Blake Daniels

      
You are hereby ordered to report to any facility listed below.

Rachel couldn’t finish
reading it, she looked at him and set the paperwork back on the table gently.
That’s what Henry had served him. That’s why he wouldn’t tell her about it.

“It wasn’t even my baby,” he
said angrily, “You want a divorce and you’re fucking somebody else, and it
wasn’t even my baby.”

She sat quietly, the shock
of what he was telling her sent scrambling to put the pieces together. He
thought she knew, he thought that’s why she wanted to leave him. But instead of
feeling anger, she felt pity.

She couldn
’t be angry. He'd been a good provider, a loving
father, an attentive lover. She’d pushed him away. Kenneth was a good man when
she'd first met him. Too good for her, she’d thought. She warned him in the
beginning that she was broken, that his infatuation would fade, that he would
begin to see her the way she saw herself.

"Stop putting yourself
down," he'd said, "One day you'll look at yourself in the mirror and
see what I see, you'll see your beautiful face and the strength behind it, the
unconditional love you have for the important people in your life. One day
you'll stop looking for the bad, and you'll be wowed by the good."

She'd laughed at him, and
hurt his feelings. She never took compliments well, and after all she'd been
through, it felt unnatural to hear him sing her praises. He was sweet, but it
had been easier to laugh, easier to get back to the superficial.

So she'd laughed and leaned in to kiss him, kissed away his
attempts to build her up. She'd known that Kenneth wouldn't let her push him
away, and she began to let him love her. It kept her distracted.

For awhile, Kenneth had been good at loving her. She
wondered when he'd stopped, or when she'd stopped letting him.

“I didn’t know, Kenneth,” she
said gently, pushing the paperwork back to him, “I didn’t do it to hurt you.
It’s not your fault. I never loved you the way you deserved. And I’m sorry.”

***

"Momma!" Lauren
screamed at her from the top of the stairs. "Can I put my dress on yet?"

"No, Lauren,
honey," Rachel called up, "We have hours before we need to be ready.
Come down and eat your breakfast, sweet pea!"

"Goddammit,"
Rachel heard her mutter loudly.

"Lauren Ashley!"
she screamed, "Don't you ever let me hear you say that again, do you
understand?"

"Yes, ma'am,"
Lauren huffed.

Not exactly how she'd wanted
the day to start. The pot of oatmeal on the stove needed attention, but she was
glued to Hunter cramming a banana down his throat.

"Seriously?"

He just smiled and shrugged.

"So can I go outside
yet?" he asked, his mouth still full of food.

"Sure."

The thought of reprimanding
him for talking with his mouth full felt like overkill after the dirty look
she'd just given him. Besides, she'd just screamed at Lauren, and she needed
them on their best behavior tonight.

Even if that meant indulging them all day to keep them in
decent moods. They'd be the only two children at the gala and too many adults
hate having kids running around a venue like that, especially if they were
acting act.

Kenneth strolled into the
kitchen whistling, a smile on his face. He winked at her. She nearly choked on
her coffee. He hadn't been that happy to see her in a year.

"What are you so
chipper about this morning?" she asked.

"What? A man can't
whistle or wink at his first ex-wife?" he laughed.

He hadn’t laughed like that in months. They’d talked more
in the last week than they’d talked throughout their marriage. He was hurt she
was leaving, but he agreed it would only hurt Hunter and Lauren to let the
wounds fester.

Rachel had underestimated him, she should have known he’d
put the kids first.

"I'm sorry. Let me
start over. Good morning, Kenneth. How did you sleep?"

"Fine, I thought I'd
take the kids to a movie later before they have to get ready for tonight,"
he said, pausing to pour his coffee, "Do you want to come?"

"I can't, I've got to
practice my speech and I promised Jake I'd meet him early this afternoon to do
a few things."

"Alright, well, you'll
be here to get Lauren ready, right?"

"Of course."

***

"Neil!" Jake
screamed, his patience long gone, "Listen, motherfucker, get your skinny
ass up from that table and go pour a cup of coffee. You have eight hours to get
this shit done, and if you don't get it done, and if you can't perform your
fucking job the rest of the night, I swear on my life I will cut your dick off
and shove it down your throat!"

"Dude," Neil
blubbered, "Chill. I got this. No need for the dramatics."

"I got your dude,
asshole, get up and install my equipment before I drag you across the street
and beat your ass!" Jake flinched at him, his fists up, veins popping from
his freshly shaved skull.

"Whoa, man, I'm fucking
doing it, chill out."

Neil pushed away from the
table and Jake turned to Rachel, hands on hips as his face morphed back into
the pacifist she loved, "Hey Honey!"

"Violent this morning,
are we?" she teased.

"Never. Are you ready
to do this? The rentals guy is gonna be here in about thirty minutes, so once
the linens are on the tables we can start putting together the centerpieces.
The restaurants will start piling in around 3:30, but the florist won't be here
until 5," pointing his head towards Neil and yelling, he finished,
"And Dopehead Lighting and Sound is still fucking off after a long night
of Bong Olympics!"

"Dude," Neil said,
disappearing behind the stage, "I got this."

"So, Jake, what can I
do? Have I told you how much I love you for taking this on?"

"Yes, but tell me
again, I need a hug," he said reaching for her, "Mark and I had a big
fight, I'm not sure he's going to come tonight."

"That sucks, a fight
about what?"

"It was stupid. He said
he's not ready to introduce me to his parents, I told him he was a coward, he
called me a bully, I called him a pussy," he shook his head, "I feel
bad, but you know, it's been six months. They know he's gay, it's not like it's
news. I think he's embarrassed I'm not some engineer or doctor, you know?"

"No way, Jake. Mark is
proud of what you do, whatever the problem is, that's on him. You're fabulous."

"My feelings are still
hurt."

"I know, mine would be,
too. I'm sorry."

"I'll live. What's up
with you, you feeling better after last week?"

"Kinda," she
smiled, "but I'll live."

"Come on," he
said, tugging her towards the loading dock, "We'll drown our sorrows
later, let's get this party started."

Lana brought Megan to help
and a handful of other volunteers showed up soon after. They spent five hours
organizing purple crystal cocktail glasses, fine china and dressing each of the
one hundred and seventy five round tables with eight place settings. Perfectly
starched black table linens accented with silver metallic table runners, satin
lavender placemats and deep eggplant napkins folded elegantly on top of white
china. Chairs were draped in satin lavender sashes, and they
’d ordered gorgeous glass candle holders, delicately
painted with purple filigree, to illuminate the floral centerpieces that would
arrive later.

The perimeter of the room
was lined in long tables covered with fitted black linens, twelve of Houston's
nicest restaurants would showcase their tastiest delicacies and fill plates
with hors d'oeuvre, happy to seduce wealthy patrons into visiting their
establishments. He'd made use of every penny.

Purple, the color of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. A purple
and black extravaganza, sure to impress Houston's finest, all eager to show one
another how much they care about victims of domestic violence.

"Excellent job,
Jake," Rachel said, clapping silently, "It looks like a giant bruise.
Quite appropriate for the occasion."

"You bitch," he
laughed, and then he stormed off yelling, "Neil! You fucking scumbag, are
the microphones hooked up yet or what? Where are you, you junkie bastard?"

***

"Mommy, do I have to
wear that crown?" Lauren asked, standing between Rachel's legs as she sat
and combed through her wet curls.

"Of course not, sweet
pea, you don't like it?"

"I just think I don't
want to wear it, what if I lose it?"

"I don't think you'll
lose it, we can make sure it stays super tight in your hair and won't fall out.
But you don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

"Will everyone think
I'm a princess if I wear it?"

"Everyone will think
you're a princess even if you don't wear it."

"But what if the magic
wears off?" she asked, deadly serious. Rachel had to stifle a laugh.

"Sweet pea, your magic
will never wear off, but to be on the safe side, Grandma and Grandpa promised
to have you home well before midnight."

They took their time getting
ready, dancing around her bedroom, eating tiny cookies and ginger ale out of
champagne glasses. Rachel took pictures and they played with make-up, she
wanted to give Lauren as many good memories as she could, to enjoy her as much
as she could, Dylan's missing Michael was always in the back of her mind.

Lauren was still so little, she'd never remember it, but
Rachel would spend the rest of Lauren's childhood making sure she knew she was
the most important thing in the world to her, and that she'd do anything to
show her how to live her life for herself, to empower her to be the strong and
independent woman Rachel had never been able to be for herself, that Savannah
had never allowed her to be.

When they floated down the
stairs to meet with Kenneth and Hunter, the boys played their adoring fans,
whistling and clapping. Lauren was thrilled, her little curls bouncing around
her shoulders, an enormous smile on her face. Kenneth and Hunter wore classic
tuxedos they'd managed to keep clean, they were ready to go.

Rachel had been worried Kenneth wouldn't manage to get the
job done, that he would rent the wrong kind of tux or that he'd let Hunter
fashion himself a mohawk. But his hair was the handsome little blonde crown she
knew it could be, and he looked exactly like his father at the moment, making
Rachel excessively sentimental.

Rachel watched Kenneth with
a touch of melancholy as he helped Lauren into the car, making sure her dress
didn't get dirty, and as he ruffled Hunter's hair when he got into the
backseat. She wondered how long it would take for Kenneth to forgive her, for
them to move on and learn to be friends, so they could enjoy their children
together in this same way as they grew and experienced championship games and
first dances, and weddings and children of their own.

She thought of Chrissy and Dylan, and the pain they were
feeling as they struggled over having finally let Michael go. The service would
be Monday, Dylan had been throwing himself into work, eager to put it and the
gala behind them.

They made the thirty minute
trip into Houston and laughed and listened to the radio and sang, Hunter told
jokes and Lauren yelled that he was touching her. Rachel hadn't had a Valium in
two weeks, and despite all of the stress over Michael, and her mother, and
knowing they were days away from telling Hunter and Lauren about the divorce,
she felt better than she'd felt in her entire adult life.

She was sad, but she wasn't afraid, and that was an amazing
feeling.

Walking into the Summit was like walking into a wonderland,
and after a brief glance around, Rachel looked to Lauren's face to take in her
reaction. Her little green eyes sparkled at the tiny lights shimmering overhead
and the candles lighting up the gorgeously set tables. She hadn't asked about
the flower arrangements, a detail she'd overlooked entirely after Jake had
taken over organizing the event. He'd taken a page out of Dylan's book, the
entire arena floor was covered in enormous arrangements of purple iris, dozens
of species, some tall and thin, others short and round. The hues varied from
almost white, to lavender, plum and eggplant, some looked blue.

They were everywhere, huge
arrangements on every table, enormous hanging arrangements on either side of
the stage, and lining the entrance and silent auction tables. Regina stood with
some other board members, huddling around the silent auction items, and Rachel
made her way over to say hello. Ordinarily she'd feel nervous, even though
she'd know most of them for years, but the recent peace she'd begun to feel
left her comfortable as she approached them.