“I wanted you to see him, Mom.” Kona stands, comes to his boy’s side. Her shock is evident, and Kona thinks there may be some remorse, a little hint of guilt that he recognizes in her tightly held expression. But he doesn’t have any sympathy for her. She had taken things too far. She had kept too many things hidden from him.
There would come a day, he knew, when he’d forgive her. Maybe he has already, but he would not see her after he left with his son through that door behind them. He had given his mother his life; let her take and take and insist until he was numb that it was what he really wanted, until her need had nearly destroyed everything Kona truly wanted for himself.
“I wanted you to look at my son’s face. It will be the only time you’ll be able to.” She jerks her attention back to Kona. “This is the boy whose life you tried to ruin today. This is the face of your hatred. My boy. My blood.”
The envelope in his pocket feels like a weight and when Kona reaches for it, offers it to his mother, that weight lifts, his fingers lighten when she grabs it. His mother’s eyes are sharp, suspicious as she opens the envelope and immediately, her shock deepens, the disbelief covering her face.
“What is this supposed to be?”
“A payoff, Mom. My parting gift.”
She looks back down, eyes running over the check, to the large number, then down to the memo and he knows when she spots it; the final insult he’s giving her. Karma, payback, her own words twisted, right back at her.
“I am your mother, Kona.” Her stare is cold and she’s trying, one last time to assert some sort of dominance, a control over him. “You cannot just walk away from me. I can’t be bought. We’re family.”
“No. We’re not. Family doesn’t manipulate. Family doesn’t lie. This boy. This brilliant, beautiful boy is my family. So is Keira. She always has been no matter how hard you tried to destroy it.”
His mother throws the check to the floor, managing to stand with a speed that surprises him. “Kona, that haole will destroy your career.”
He steps forward, but stops from standing in front of her when Ransom tugs on his sleeve. His boy gives him the same calm Keira had always managed to do, and Kona smiles, comforted that he isn’t alone in this small battle. “My career is over. I’m retiring and you, Mom, all you’re going to have left is that money. I hope it keeps you company.”
He expects Ransom to follow him and he is nearly to the door before he realizes the boy hasn’t moved. A quick glance over his shoulder and Kona frowns, worried what Ransom would do, but he doesn’t stop him, figures there is something his boy needs to say.
“Mikee Sibley tried to rape one of my friends. She was only thirteen. I threw him through a window.” Ransom tilts his head and Kona is reminded of his brother again, his strong, stubborn brother and all the arguments he’d had with their mother. Ransom stands with that same relaxed stance, the same side quirk of his head that is meant as a taunt, an easy riling posture that is meant to annoy. “I do shit like that when I’m trying to protect the people I care about.”
The sneer on his mother’s face twists and she straightens her shoulders as though ready for an attack. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m not. You aren’t worth it.” Ransom steps away, walks toward Kona, but turns to face her one last time, still calm, still relaxed. “If you’re what a grandmother is, then I’m happy I never had one.”
They are out the door and on the sidewalk before Kona looks at Ransom and he returns the smile his son gives him. He won’t tell him, not yet, what the memo on the check said. It isn’t important but Kona knows the words struck deep; that his mother felt their sting. Keira had, so had Kona when he discovered that biting insult his mother had given to her all those years ago. Somehow, though, Kona bet these were worse.
To fix Lalei’s lapse in judgment.
There is never enough liquor in this house.
Keira drains the bottle, frowning at the drip from the neck, how it barely fills her second glass of Crown. It is down her throat, stinging with a lovely burn before the ice even rattles against the glass.
She won’t cry. She refuses. But this helpless feeling, the worry, consumes her. Alana, again. That foul woman had ripped to shreds what Kona had tried to build with Ransom this summer. The clock next to the buffet reads midnight. Ransom hasn’t called, neither has Kona and Keira can’t help the crippling weight of what may have happened from consuming her.
Kona’s mother had her part to play in the heartache of the past. And now, sixteen years later, she was still dealing her hand; still eager to keep Keira from the happiness that was in her reach. Would the woman ever stop?