Misfit(91)
“Kendall, Dad’s calling you,” one of Slipper’s sons said.
She ignored him.
Slipper whistled to get Kendall’s attention. As stiff as she was, Fee knew she’d heard.
“You want us to wait here, Red?”
Kendall spun and drew herself up. “Who do you think you are? Calling me by that name.”
He lost his smile and shifted. “Didn’t mean nothing.”
Other than liking alcohol and women, and disliking cleanliness, Slipper was nice, undeserving of Kendall’s harshness.
“I just heard Mort call you that. I thought it would be okay if I did.”
“It isn’t. You’re not Mortician. Not anywhere close.”
He scratched his greasy hair. “I don’t know if you’re insulting me or not.”
“Because you’re a fucking idiot who needs a bath. Almost too offensive to be in my presence.”
A glimmer of anger crossed Slipper’s face, quickly replaced by hurt. He bowed his head. “John Boy asked me to look after you. Just like Outlaw put me with Meggie sometimes.”
“You’ve behaved, so it’s fine that you’re here,” Kendall decided, smoothing her skirt. “Just keep your distance from me and please don’t show yourself to my friend. Disgusting fucking pigs,” she mumbled after the motorcycles roared away, turning toward the door, which opened before she rang the doorbell.
A woman with ash blonde hair and expensive clothes greeted them with a smile. She grabbed Kendall’s hands and air-kissed each of her cheeks. “Kendall, darling.”
“Hi, Charlotte.” Kendall stepped aside and indicated Fee. “This is my good friend, Ophelia.”
Fee marched forward, unenthused about dining with a woman dripping with pretension and condescension. “Nice to meet you.”
Charlotte gave her the once over and then nodded. “You’re adorable. Kendall, she’s adorable.”
“I told her,” Kendall gushed. “She may not have Zoann’s looks, but she has such inner beauty.”
Fee scowled at Kendall’s profile. Both she and Charlotte were major snobs.
Charlotte stepped aside, forgetting Fee existed as she focused on Kendall. “Let’s catch up. Do come in.”
Inside, sunlight gleamed from the huge windows. Charlotte and Kendall’s heels clicked on the parquet floor, in complete contrast to the silence of Fee’s ballet flats. Her entire outfit showed their differences. Her laid-back, funky style included a lacy skater dress and jazzy accessories. In contrast, Kendall wore a pencil skirt, Valentino Garavani pumps, a silk blouse, and a lot of pearls.
Brands and labels were Kendall’s thing, another holdover from when she’d had a career, one she was trying to school Fee on.
Several ladders and drop cloths were scattered in the foyer and along the hallway. The further into the house they went, the stronger the scent of paint and turpentine grew. Despite obvious signs of remodeling, rich burgundy and forest green decorated the room they settled in. Everything smelled fresh and new, and the spectacular view of the mountain range stole Fee’s breath.
True to her word, Kendall allowed Fee a cosmo, but without the vodka and triple sec. If Kendall was elegant, Charlotte Redding was high society with perfect manners and impeccable taste.
“Last one,” Kendall announced, an hour later, accepting her second cosmo from a maid. “I can’t drink too much alcohol.”
“You’re a grown woman,” Charlotte chastised. “You can drink as much as you please.”
“Really, I’ve had enough.”
“I worry about you. So far, nothing we’ve come up with has worked.”
“I know, but I’m fine. I swear. I’m really happy with how my life is going.” Kendall’s face fell. “With the exception of not being at the law firm.”
Her mouth frozen in a smile, Charlotte glanced at Fee, then cleared her throat. She patted Kendall’s hand. “Yes, well, who knows what opportunity will come your way? I hate to see you so unhappy, dear,” she clucked. “You know I don’t agree with what they’ve done to you. Johnnie should be ashamed of himself for forcing you on those pills.”
Fee stiffened at Charlotte’s inaccuracies. Knowing the truth, she couldn’t hold her tongue. “Johnnie doesn’t force Kendall to do anything.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Kendall glanced between the two of them. “She doesn’t mean anything by it, Charlotte. She’s Johnnie’s cousin, so, of course she’ll defend him. Don’t take it personally.”
“Mr. Donovan isn’t my concern. You are.” Charlotte sipped from her glass. “You’re just a shell of the woman you once were. You need to stand up for yourself.”