The Adventures of James Dean.

15.

'I don't understand, you know her? From where?'

'I was a friend of her sisters. A good friend. We used to work together. She was called....her name is Fiona. Their mother died of heart problems when Fiona was just eighteen and Kennedy was eleven. Fiona was left with the responsibility of raising her sister, they didn't have any other family. Their dad was some cheating, low life, a real player....' She trailed off, after her long speech, barely pausing for air and she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. There was something I'd never seen before. Carmella getting visibly emotional.

But I didn't see where this was going.

'A few years after Kennedy came into her care, Fiona started progressively becoming more clumsy and forgetful. Her doctor said it was grief, and feeling like everything was on her shoulders. But it got worse, and then....' Carmella stopped again, dabbing her eyes and biting her lip, 'She was diagnosed with a rare degenerative disease. One by one her organs slowed down and stopped working. Kennedy worked tirelessly, leaving school before she'd had the chance to do anything with her life, and working jobs to pay for Fi's treatment. They wouldnt accept help from anyone else. They were such a strong family unit.....But the meds didn't help, Fiona just got more and more sick. There was nothing anybody could do.'

I didn't know why I'd never heard of Fiona before. Probably because Carmella and I had never been close. And Kennedy didn't feel like she could talk to me. And I'd never listened before. That's probably the reason.

'So you see why you can't fuck around with her? Shit James, you got her pregnant?'

'Yes.' I felt like the stupidest asshole in the universe. A grade A douche. She'd fallen behind on her rent because she was still trying to pay back the money she owed her landlord. The money she needed for treatment.

I hung my head, and I was surprised to feel Carmella's hand on my shoulder moments later. 'Please, please don't destroy that girl, James. She deserves better. Please I am begging you. She deserves so much better.'

'I know.' I lifted my head and turned it so we were face to face, 'I know she does. I don't want to destroy her.' I ran my hands over my face. 'Shit Carm I didn't know any of this.'

'Of course you didn't, she was just a girl in a club.'

That sentence was so empty. It didn't describe anything of the feisty, beautiful enigma I'd discovered. She wasn't just some body in a red dress, The object of my temporary affection. She challenged me. She made me think.

'Tell me what to do Carm?'

'Look after her. That's all you can do, and when that baby is born, let her go.'

..................

Dinner was incredible, and even under these really strange circumstances, Carmella and I seemed to have bonded more today than we had in years. We wound up watching the thanksgiving parade together, parked around the tv like a family, and I felt a pang of something that felt a lot like jealousy. I was looking at Rusty like the father on the train, had looked at me. Instead of making me uncomfortable, it made me want to know what it felt like to be him. Libby was falling asleep in his lap as she stroked her hair, Gavin was close to giving in too, resting his back against my best friends side.

I gave up trying to analyse why I felt this way, and I enjoyed the tiramisu Carmella had created with her fair hand. I clutched my phone in a vice like grip the whole time, and on some level, I willed Kennedy to text me. I don't know whether it was the wishful thinking or because we hadn't spoken in a couple of days and she felt kinda obligated to check in, but moments later my handset vibrated.

But it was from Dad.

Wishing me a happy thanksgiving.

Stuffing my phone in my back pocket I tried to relax and get back into the mind frame I'd been in moments before, but now I was antsy. So I sent her a text instead.

'Happy Thanksgiving To Kennedy and Baby.' Before I started over thinking, I sent the message. Barely a minute later, my phone throbbed in my back pocket, and retrieving it, I saw;

'Happy thanksgiving to you, James. Have a great time. K x'

So why was I now picking apart her really brief message. There was nothing hidden between the very short lines. And that kiss? Well it was just a generic signature she probably used when messaging anyone. From family and friends to mere acquaintances at Christmas and other holidays.

All excuses would be pushed aside tonight. I was heading out with a few guys from work and we'd be painting the town a bright shade of red.

Red like the colour she wore so well.

...................