Chapter Text
Children’s birthday parties were typically not at the top of Jess’ list of priorities. None of her friends had children, and while her sister gave birth to the most adorable baby girl last spring, Jess hadn’t found the time to slip away to California for the weekend to meet the kiddo in the flesh.
Then again, this wasn’t any child’s birthday party; this was Iverson Roy’s ninth birthday party.
When the birthday boy handed her the invitation to his party personally, dragging his nanny to the office to deliver the Spider-Man sticker-covered envelope, how could Jess say ‘no’?
So she packed up her day bag and made the trip north, past The Hudson Valley, to Rava’s family home where the party would be taking place. Not that anyone would complain; the city was unbearably humid during the summer, an escape necessary. However, Jess had an inkling the Roy family would have something to complain about through their fake smiles; in her two hours of travel, Kendall texted her several times, asking for an estimated ETA.
The day must have already taken a sour turn, the party not until later in the afternoon. She humored his texts, giving the best updates she could, even if the messages were mere acknowledgments of his text. He needed some reassurance, especially with his and Rava’s families present.
Following his stint in rehab, Kendall and Rava were, in plain terms, not good. Not good at all. Rava did not want an addict as a husband and told Kendall plainly. Kendall did what Kendall did best—he wallowed, became more aggressive in his meetings and deals at work, and threw money at the problem.
Such as a new ring for Rava. Proposing the idea of renewing vows. The exact opposite of the direction the couple were undeniably spiraling towards.
His wife declined, followed by a phone call to Jess—“Please stop him from purchasing me anymore rings and double-check if he contacted any wedding planners or venues—Kendall and I are not renewing our vows.”
This instance, unfortunately, led to a brutal crossfire between Kendall and Rava, Jess caught in the middle.
“Tell Rava that she does not get to call all the shots in this marriage,” he’d snap at Jess, she fumbling to send the text message while also forwarding work emails to the correct correspondence. “ It is a partnership. She needs to get the fucking memo.”
Jess used kinder phrasing when messaging Rava but kept the essence of his urgency and tone.
“ Tell Kendall he needs to stop ignoring the elephant in the room and contact his lawyers,” Rava calmly told Jess over the phone right before an executive meeting.
But naturally, Kendall heard, hovering over Jess’ shoulder when he saw Rava’s name light up on her phone screen. “I am not calling a lawyer!”
This was their form of communication for weeks. As far as Jess knew, they were living together again (for the kids’ sake), but they could easily be on opposite sides of the building without ever interacting.
Typically, for any event, Jess would lend a helping hand, but the two decided to use planning Iverson’s birthday party as an opportunity to patch up their deteriorating marriage. Jess did her best to not pry…though that did not mean she did not receive complaints on Kendall’s side of planning.
“Jess!” Rava cried out when she opened the door, quick to lead Jess into the foyer. “Thank god, someone I can actually talk to,” Rava muttered in Jess’ ear when she pulled her into a hug. “I’m just going to get Jess settled,” she called out over her shoulder to the rest of the guests. Jess spotted Connor Roy and his girlfriend Willa in passing, sitting with a few of the early arrivals.
And Willa waved, almost… excited to see her?
Now that was odd. Odder than usual. And that was a lot considering Connor was in the room.
Jess could name on one hand the number of times Willa acknowledged her at any Roy affiliated function since she became Connor’s plus one. She often offered kind, if not overwhelmed, smiles, unsure of what to do when surrounded by wealth and not be expected anything in return.
But never had she waved at Jess, in front of Roy’s, from a distance.
As Rava let her tuck away her belongings into one of the guestrooms, she shut the door behind her and faced Jess, dread in her eyes. “So…Kendall’s missing.”
The hand that dropped her phone into her purse hovered in the air before diving right back in. “Missing as in…?”
“He left at nine this morning for a run and has not come back.” Hands clasped and pressed to her forehead, Rava began to pace the sliver of space between the bed and closet. Her perfectly tamed hair looked less put together the longer Jess stared, dumbfounded. The mask the poor woman wore crumbled into a million pieces, replaced by a thin-skinned woman looking for refuge. A panicked huff escaped Rava. Her words jumbled as she attempted to catch Jess up to speed. “He won’t respond to any of my text messages or phone calls. The party starts in three hours, and the fucking father of my children decided to throw his version of a temper tantrum and disappear. On his son’s birthday.” She scrubbed her face once, then turned to Jess, mouth set in a firm line. “You need to find him before my in-laws and children start asking questions.”
“They haven’t already?” Jess scrolled through her messages; Kendall had been texting her all morning, them back and forth for hours. If he was missing, he could not have dropped off the face of the planet or taken the private jet to another country, like Rava probably believed. He was close, just not…present.
“Everyone knows Kendall to fuck off from time to time, especially with party planning,” Rava waved off, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “He hates doing the mundane planning stuff.” Her eyes screwed shut, mouth twisted in an ugly frown. “That’s why he has you, Jess. You take care of that. You not being here, helping us, really fucked him up.” An implied ‘this is your fault’ sat in the air. “You know him better than me. Do you know how fucked up it is he’d rather listen to you, his assistant, than me, his wife?”
Jess did not reply, keeping her focus on trying to contact Kendall through the ‘Find My Friends’ app rather than the pinching pressure behind her eyes. Rava was emotional. Upset. She didn’t mean what she was saying—no one ever meant what they said in the heat of anger and panic.
But that did not mean it did not hurt.
Her phone buzzed. Kendall accepted her request for his location.
Jess exhaled, unaware she was holding her breath. “I know where he is at.” She glanced back down at her phone, the pin drop about an hour away by foot, far less by car. “I can pick him up.”
Rava hummed, hands pressed down on thighs, her deep breaths quaking. “You can take my car.” She waved vaguely downstairs. “My keys are in the bowl.”
Taking this as her dismissal, Jess slung her purse back on her shoulder and made her leave. Not until she was sitting in the driver’s seat did she allow herself to blink free the tears.
Jess found him at a rest stop overlooking the lake. Arms braced against the railing, he tipped slightly forward, looking down at the rocks leading into the water.
His feet lifted…
Then planted right back down three seconds later.
“Your wife has been looking for you,” Jess said, forgoing a kinder greeting. “She’s worried.”
“Let her be worried.” Kendall kicked at the dirt under his foot. The baseball cap shadowed his face. Sunglass hid his perpetually sad eyes. The pinch of his mouth and brow only spoke of annoyance. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
Once again, he leaned further on the railing, feet lifting, then plopping down again. He kept his back turned to her, a slight hunch to his shoulders.
She swallowed down her gasp as he tilted forward, again, farther than before. Kendall landed on his feet more firmly and had a white-knuckle grip on the railing.
This man was going to be the death of her. She was sure of it.
“It’s Iverson’s birthday. You kind of need to, for your son, at least.”
Kendall frowned, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. Not when she already ruined this weekend.”
He was baiting her; Jess knew better than to leave him hanging without playing along. “And how exactly did Rava ruin this weekend?” she asked, making her way to stand beside him.
“I was served divorce paper’s this morning,” Kendall dug his heel into the dirt, sunglasses pointed down to the depths of murky water below. “And here is the fucking icing on the shit cake—Connor was the one to serve them to me. Over coffee.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “My own fucking brother. She used my family to do her dirty work; they probably fucking planned the whole thing, him coming on a flight last night just to hand me the papers this morning. The fucking dipshit.”
Jess wasn’t sure if he was referring to Connor or Rava as a dipshit, but she felt he might have meant the insult for both.
“I see…” she drawled out, unsure of how to move forward.
She could help pick him up from his own puddle of puke. Push him under the spray of the showerhead when he was too drunk, had a bad trip, or was too depressed to bring himself to turn the water on. Jess could sign him up for rehab and counseling, keep tabs on all matters of his life, so he could rejoin the land of the living smoothly despite his three-month absence. Make sure did not miss a father-daughter dance, spelling bee, or piano recital.
But how did one mend a broken heart?
Jess’ wrapped an arm around Kendall’s shoulder, her cheek resting against his bicep. Kendall stilled at the touch. But he did not shrug her away.
Instead, his shoulders sank, and a hiccupping sniffle slipped out of him. His head fell forward, his forearms padding the landing.
“I love her, Jess,” a sob laced his words. “I do. And I ruined it. I fucking ruined it. She’s done. Done with me.” His breathing stuttered, chest heaving as his pain came out in earnest.
She held him tighter, only this made Kendall cry harder. He turned into her, turning their embrace into a proper hug, Jess’ hold the only force keeping Kendall upright.
His tears and snot smeared into her sky blue blouse, and her collar rumpled by the desperate press of his face into her shoulder to hide his tears.
Once his eyes ran dry and his throat raw, Jess led him to the car. He climbed into the passenger seat and allowed her to buckle him up like he was a child. His sunglasses remained in place, his red nose the only sign of his crying.
As Jess reached to shut his door, Kendall’s hand caught her wrist. He swallowed, lips moving without sound until he finally found the words. “This…this stays between us.”
“Sealed like a vault.”
Giving her wrist a thankful squeeze, Kendall released her.
Walking around the front of the car, Jess steadied her breath. A count down from ten, just like her therapist taught her. Ten, nine, eight, seven …
Hand on the handle, Jess pushed back the current of overwhelm rising in her chest. She did not sign up to be the middle man for all of the facets of Kendall’s life, yet here she stood, bringing him back to his son’s birthday party when no one else could nor wanted to.
It’s an unhealthy co-dependence , her therapist remarked during one of their first sessions. Have you ever considered other employment?
And she did, for a moment. She considered as she watched Kendall somewhat adjust to the life of sobriety. Perhaps he did not need her. Maybe he could manage his life without her holding his hand. He was a grown man who functioned well-enough (that’s fucking lie) before her.
With each passing day, the notion of leaving her job became more and more difficult to justify. Especially when he looked so…lost. With his marriage falling apart. With Logan’s eightieth birthday looming just less than a year away, Kendall the heir apparent.
Jess opened the driver’s side door, offered Kendall a kind smile—the only one he’d receive that day—and buckled up.