Chapter 20: Cash Landing
Chapter 20: Cash Landing
They find everyone else in the kitchen, bothering Ivana and Logan ― the Mitchells’ chef of twenty-nine
years ― while they prepare dinner.
Ivana sees Arden and rushes over to her, and traps her in a hug so tight that she can barely take a
deep breath.
"Ivana, you just saw me this morning," Arden says with a smirk. Her feigned irritation does nothing to
disguise the comfort she feels underneath the crush of the woman's embrace.
"Makes no difference. You're home." Ivana kisses Ardi's cheek. "I'm going to hug you as much as I
want."
Knowing that ending their embrace right now is not likely, Arden settles her head on Ivana's shoulder.
Besides, there's a part of her that doesn't want the woman to let go. No one and nothing could ever
replace her mother. But Ivana lessens the pull of Lillian's absence.
Ardi smiles as an endless stream of Russian is whispered near her ear. She doesn't understand much.
But a warmth passes over her when she recognizes the phrase, I love you, followed by Ivana's pet
name for her.
When she came to work for the Mitchells, Ivana gave both Arden and Adam nicknames. Ardi has
always been “kroshka,” or “little one,” and Adam has been “krolik,” or “bunny.” Though most times
Adam's nickname was just shortened to “no, stop or put that down.”
Adam has always been a moving target. He's the reason Arden knows that firecrackers and Barbie
dolls don't mix very well.
Seconds after she and Ivana release each other, the front door flies open. Her brother storms into the
house. He searches every room, bellowing her name in the process.
Arden leaves the kitchen and makes her way toward his voice. Adam continues to tear through the
halls in the opposite direction of her. His wife, Esperanza, catches sight of Arden and tugs on his arm.
He sprints over to her and pulls her into a hug. The force of it almost knocks her off balance. They hang
onto each other for a solid minute without saying a word. But she knows what's on his mind.
Since they were little, she and Adam could communicate volumes in silence. Lillian used to say their
souls were connected. That this life was just one in a series of many before it. No matter what shape
their reincarnations might take, Adam and Arden would always find each other in some form. This time
around they were meant to learn something as brother and sister.
Their mother reasoned that Adam must have been the responsible one in their last reincarnation. Now
it was Arden's turn to be mature and sensible. Arden always thought it was a convenient excuse for her
brother’s more childish ways.
"Jesus, Elmer," Adam mutters before releasing her. "Being a Black woman in America isn't hard
enough, you have to go and get yourself arrested?"
"Had to do something to earn a little street cred." She shrugs, a sarcastic grin forming at the corners of
her mouth. "Marrying a white boy put me in the negative."
"That's interracial love for you." He spends a minute staring at her face with his eyes focused just
above her cheekbone. Then he surveys the bandage on her hand. "That a prison tat gone wrong?"
"Can we save that conversation for another day?" She isn't ready for his reaction to the real or
fabricated story behind her injuries.
Adam nods and moves aside so that she can greet his wife, who has been waiting in silence behind
them.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says, giving Arden a quick hug.
“Melinda will have to try harder than that to keep me down.”
“True.” She cocks an eyebrow and lowers her voice. “I still got some cousins who would gladly pay her
a visit, though.”
“As tempting as that is, I’ll pass … for now.”
“Just saying,” she shrugs, lightly nudging Arden’s arm. “I got you.”
Esperanza, better known as Perry, is a woman of Native American, African and Dominican descent.
Her features are bold, with a sharp nose, high cheekbones and a proud jawline. At 5'11, she can easily
tower over Adam in a pair of heels. Paired with her quiet authority, she commands attention.
Arden is grateful Adam found someone who balances him out so well. Perry knows how to earn
respect without stepping on anyone else. Their relationship is a mutually supportive and playful union.
Whenever the two of them get together with Arden and Elliott they all tend to lapse back into the easy
spontaneity of their high school days.
Esperanza and Ardi spend a little while laughing about Adam's latest obsession with Lego models
before they gather everyone else and head out to the back veranda.
The talk between them is about everything imaginable as they set the dinner table, though the topic of
Ardi and Eli's brief stint in the slammer is wisely avoided by all.
No one wants to ruin the vibe of the sunset over Mitchell Lake. The marvelous rays of orange and pink
filter through the thick spread of oak and pine trees, creating the best source of ambient light mother
nature has to offer.
Arden arranges the last place setting and wanders over to the railing of the wide porch. She rests
against a column and loses herself in the beauty of the garden and the lake beyond it.
Most of her life was spent with this serene picture as her backyard, and she can count on one hand the
days she managed to make time to enjoy it. Sometimes Ardi longs for the days when all she had to
worry about was having enough milk for her Captain Crunch and watching Saturday morning cartoons.
Simple things start to make sense with age, like the unsolicited and oftentimes vague advice of elders.
But one would be hard-pressed to find a young person who heeded the warning not to rush into the
responsibilities of adulthood.
She plunged head-first into the demands of marriage and family. Elliott was like a store-bought box of NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.
cake mix, just add water, and boom, instant family. Overnight, Arden became a wife and mother.
At twenty-three, she was still getting a handle on adulting. But she had dated this wonderful man and
helped raise his kids for four years, so marriage just felt right.
After so many years of running from herself and the depression that threatened to consume her, she
felt settled with Eli. The dark didn't seem so close when he was near, and she could take a breath at
last.
So why does it still feel like she's gasping for air?
Maybe all these years have just been an illusion, something her mind created out of necessity. She's
been jogging in place for the last sixteen years, chasing something that will forever remain just outside
of her reach.
"Arden?" Eli's hand on her waist startles her. "You all right?"
She turns to see that everyone has taken their seats and dinner has been served. They all stare at her
with uneasy smiles. Before anyone can catch on that she's a little off at the moment, she apologizes
and walks over to the table with Elliott.
Soon the warm evening air is filled with the clatter of utensils against china and the roar of a good-
humored debate between the men. The more noise everyone makes, the less she can hear herself
think. And that just might prove to be her saving grace tonight.
Dinner settles into coffee and dessert with the last wisps of sunlight fading at their backs. Not long after
that, the twins decide that whatever is on reality television tonight is more interesting than the adults
and head inside the house.
Warren and Adam begin to discuss complicated legal maneuvers that could keep Melinda tied up in so
much litigation, she'll be in court more than a public defense attorney. The angry calculations of her
father and brother are no surprise to her.
However, Eli's contribution to the conversation does seem contrary to his usual position where that
woman is concerned. It's nice to see a glimpse of his elusive backbone. But the sudden formation of it
unnerves her all the same.
"How soon could we have that suit filed against her?" Eli asks. Her father just suggested that they
finally level a lawsuit for defamation of character against Melinda. And Eli is the first to jump on board
with the idea.
"Tomorrow." Warren shrugs and takes a measured sip of his coffee. "I could have it before a judge next
week."
"Wouldn't be a minute too soon." Elliott frowns at the ladybug that just lit on his hand and then crushes
it between his thumb and index finger.
Arden studies her husband, not at all pleased with the hate that has peppered his movements. She
watches him devolve into a lesser form of himself with each word. It's like she's staring at someone
foreign to her.
"Elliott, may I speak with you?" She interrupts the latest round of strategy and halts Adam mid-
sentence.
"We're kinda in the middle of a conversation, darling." He gives her a look like she's a Stepford wife
who just spoke out of turn. “Whatever it is can wait.”
The condescending expression causes a rage so raw to erupt in her, that she almost reaches across
the table to smack him. "Elliott Finley Stone. If you ever―."
"Mom." Teagan runs onto the veranda with Arden's phone in her hand. "Your phone's ringing."
Arden thanks Tea and takes the phone without removing her gaze from Elliott.
Teagan catches the glare between her parents and begins to back away from this charged standoff
with slow steps. Unbeknownst to her, she just saved her father from the verbal flogging of his life.
The phone goes silent before Arden can answer it. When she sees who the missed call is, she's
relieved that she didn't get to it in time.
On fire from Elliott's sudden bout of amnesia that he married a Black woman with a mind, she excuses
herself from the table and heads back into the house. Just as her heels hit the hardwood floor of the
family room, the phone rings in her hand again.
She stares at it a moment, then decides to ignore the call. Her heart begins to beat double time. When
it rings once more, she taps the ignore button like she's disarming a grenade. Another minute or so
passes of her not breathing. But it doesn't ring again.
Instead, the screen of her phone begins to pulse at intermittent intervals with the notification of a new
voicemail. Curiosity gets the better of her.
Though she knows she should just delete it, she keys in her password and puts the phone to her ear.
The pleas of a desperate man flow through to her. Now she can't continue to ignore him.
She makes her way to another wing of the house where her family isn't likely to find her and slips into
an upstairs guest bedroom.
Everything in her is telling her to rethink hitting that call button. But she does it anyway. He answers on
the first ring.
"Arden?"
Just the way he says her name makes her melt like butter on hot toast. Her mouth gets dry and the
beating of her heart steals the ability of her ears to hear anything else.
This was a mistake. Everything about him was a mistake. She never should have opened the door for
any of this to begin.
"Yeah ... I'm here," her voice shakes with every word.
"Are you okay?" The almost frantic concern that he has for her grips her heart right through the phone.
Somehow she feels even more guilt than when his lips were on hers. "What happened?"
"It was just a misunderstanding. I'm fine."
"You were arrested. That's a lot more than a misunderstanding."
“Trust me. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”
“It was on the news, Arden.” He scoffs. “They dragged you into the police station in handcuffs.”
“Must have been a slow news day. I’m nowhere near interesting enough for anyone to care.”
“Any other time, I would find your refusal to answer direct questions charming. But seriously, are you
okay?”
She sighs and makes her way to the window seat. “I’m fine. A little … beat up. But fine.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at home.”
She can hear him pick up his keys. “I’ll stop by.”
“My childhood home.” She shakes her head. “You can’t come running every time I have an issue.”
“Can and will. Anytime.”
Starved for devotion and attention, his lack of hesitation makes her want him more. Her mind wanders
for a moment to the feel of his lips, wanting his hands on her. She bites her lip to keep herself from
agreeing to meet him.
"Look, please, just listen. What happened today― the kiss." She takes a quick breath to calm her
nerves. "Don't call. Don't come around. Just forget you ever met me."
"You know as well as I do, that's not possible."
“Casper, I―.”
"Before you give me a million and one reasons for us not to see each other, hear me out."
She closes her eyes and rests her head against the window pane. “Fine. I’m listening.”
"I care about you, Arden. I know we just met. But … I want to know you." He pauses and sighs like he's
searching for the perfect words. "If it means things between us have to be strictly platonic, so be it."
“Platonic,” she says, considering the word. “Sure you can handle that?”
“Hell no.”
They share a laugh. As it fades into a loaded silence, she watches the last stubborn rays of sunlight on
the horizon. A languid moon fights for focus. The sky is awash with an iridescent glow. Despite the
chaos of the day, she’s at ease knowing Casper is on the other end of the phone.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, breaking her reverie.
“Nothing,” she lies, then quickly corrects. “You.”
“My favorite subject.”
She smiles wide, the strain of it stinging her bruised face. “And you? What’s on your mind?”
There’s a second or two of silence. She can almost hear the smirk in his tone.
“Brushing your hair off your shoulder. Kissing your neck …”
As he speaks, her hand drifts up to her neck. She sighs to herself, wishing it were his touch lighting
fires on her skin.
“Still curious?” he asks, rather smug.
Very. But she manages to contain the remark and regain her composure.
“I should get back,” she whispers like the shadows can hear her.
“All right. Good night, love.”
Arden drinks in the rich lilt of his voice and ends the call. Whispering to the darkened room once again,
she wishes him the same.
“Good night, Cash.”