“Oh, dear,” the older lady from before gasped. “Son, you better get away and wait for help to come. That pole is beginning to spark.”
It didn’t take an explanation to know what would happen if a single spark reached the ground and gas that traveled closer to the pole by the second.
I refused to lose my father and her in the same night.
“Son, get away from there. You’re going to get yourself killed,” a faceless voice yelled from the crowd. There was no way I was leaving her or standing by for help. If it came to it, I would die with her.
Without her, I was dead anyway.
I crawled inside just as she began to come to, and I said a quick, silent prayer that she was still alive and reached out for her.
Screams ripped through the air, and when I looked back, I saw a single spark falling. I watched it fall for all of two seconds and then moved with renewed determination. I reached out again, but just as I did, hands grabbed onto me, pulling me away.
“No!” I screamed and clawed at the hands grabbing me, but there were too many pulling me further away. The spark had now reached the ground and raced toward the car. I threw an elbow and my head back, not caring who was on the receiving end and managed to break free.
Adrenaline surged through my veins.
On my hands and knees, I scrambled for the car once again and dove in without hesitation. I ripped the seatbelt away and caught her just as the car caught the first fire. Instantly, I could feel the flames heating my skin. Smoke filled the car making it hard to see, and the way I came in was already engulfed leaving my only way out through the driver’s door.
With little room, I kicked at the door, aware at any moment the car would explode. Even now, I could feel myself tiring from the smoke that filled my lungs. It was becoming impossible to breathe and even the force of my kicks decreased.
I began to see my life as it had been and then my life as it could be.
“Keenan,” Sheldon groaned before she went still.
Just the sound of my name from her gave me the strength I needed, and with one last kick, the door finally gave way.
* * * * *
ONE MONTH LATER
“I still can’t believe you closed the shop. However will you service all the women of Los Angeles?”
“Would you stop with the slut jokes? I haven’t slept with a single woman in California.”
“Oh, I know, but it’s so much fun to see your panties in a twist.”
“Get lost, Di.” I pretended not to care but quickly gave up the fight. “How did you know?”
“Because you were so much more happy go lucky when you were getting laid on a regular basis. Since you left, you’ve become a grumpy asshole. I would say even worse than brother dearest.”
“Are you here to help me unpack or reflect on my character?”
“I can’t believe you really left.”
“You can always stay. Keenan and Di—on the road again.”
“Umm… live in Six Forks? I don’t think so. I need the glam life in the city.”
“Or maybe you’re scared,” I teased.
“There is nothing in Six Forks that scares me.” The frown she wore was troubled. I cocked an eyebrow at her but didn’t respond. Unlike her, I didn’t push.
I looked around my father’s house that he left to Keiran and me along with every single thing he owned. Keiran had immediately rejected everything while I chose to donate everything minus the house and his business. We had our differences as fucked up as they were, but I couldn’t bring myself to give away everything he built.
I had the attorneys divide everything that belonged to John, and everything that was inherited, and had them donate the inherited funds to various organizations with the larger portions going to foundations dedicated to battered women and children.
“So what’s next?”
“What do you mean?” I asked absently as I cut through the tape on another box. Michelangelo stared back at me in the form of a backpack. The little green monster was smirking while he stood ready in a pose for combat.
“Are you going to fight for her this time?”
“Who?”
“Does it matter? They’re a pair now, you know. Two for the price of one,” she joked.
“What’s that?”
“Oy… pay attention, will you? The woman you’ve been in love with, the mother of your child, and the woman you pulled out of a burning car is out there falling in love with someone else and you’re here decorating.”
“She wants nothing to do with me, Di. She made that clear.”
“Well, you had just almost gotten her killed because she was worried about you when you couldn’t be bothered to care for yourself.”
I took a deep breath and closed the box full of my daughter’s things that were left behind that morning a month ago. “Who have you been talking to?”
“Lake. She and Keiran are doing great in Hawaii, by the way.”
Keiran and Lake had temporarily relocated for the summer until Lake starts graduate school at Stanford in the fall. Keiran's brush with his past after four years was hard on Lake who hadn’t been able to relax since.
Keiran had taken his inheritance and funneled a large portion of it into Jesse’s company, becoming a partner. It was hard to believe Keiran fought past his jealousy and now actually worked with the man. No one knows what he did with the rest of his inheritance. He only claimed it was no longer his.
Apparently, he made this decision long before the NBA offers poured in. All of which he’d turned down.
Even though our relationship was still rocky, I couldn’t help but respect his decision. Something told me Lake had something to do with it. Indirectly, of course. Anyone with eyes could see that Keiran sought her approval. He wanted to be worthy of her.
It also explained the degree in computer science.
I didn’t think I would ever get over that one.
“That’s great. When are they coming back?”
“In about two months, but don’t try to change the subject. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to be a decent human being for once.”
“By denying your feelings and a child her father?”
“Kennedy doesn’t know I’m her father. It’s better this way. I won’t have to spend the next fifteen years afraid that I will become my father and her suffering for it.”
“So fulfill the promise you made a dying man during his final moments and do the right thing.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SHELDON
I READ THE words of the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time.
I did it.
After four years of wanting to pull my eyeballs through my skull by my hair, I’d accomplished what I set out to do. Medical school was calling my name.
Worry tried to worm its way through, but I wouldn’t let the stress of the past few weeks or my future obstacles as a med student and single mother ruin this moment.
I needed to call someone.
Eric surprisingly popped in my head, but after Keenan had beaten him to a pulp in front of a restaurant full of people, including his parents, he made it clear I wasn’t to contact him, especially after I told him about Kennedy.
Apparently, his parents had a certain image preset for him that my baggage and I would tarnish. And so ended a one-year relationship that would have never developed past the limit I had set of my own.
I was even more grateful that I never slept with him.
I never even had the urge.
It was time to for me to make Kennedy’s lunch so I checked on her first. It was a full-time job keeping her out of mischief. For the first time, she took the initiative to actually draw on paper instead of the walls or furniture. Her head was bent and her face serious with concentration as she doodled. I was beginning to believe that drawing was something she loved to do like her father.
Don’t think about him, Sheldon.
Don’t think about how he hadn’t called nor had he stayed.