GRIND

Chapter 3

KATE

* * *

The manor was eerily quiet with the flickering lights and heater that flirted with going on vacation, a winter break from the storm. The grand mansion felt like an icy museum. Heck, it was a museum. It held remnants of a past. Especially the long wall of fame that led to my childhood sleeping quarters.

Dozens of magazine articles dressed the walls from many of Phillip Rainshaw’s accomplishments, as well as Bradley, his sister Claire, and of my mother who now had her own wall from her successes due to her stardom in the “Housewives” franchise. A real housewife of the Hamptons. She loved being on the show and lived for it. Another reason why living across oceans and seas suited me just fine. I didn’t want anything to do with the show. They called her jokingly the gold digger from Texas. After all, she was.

A house with many rooms, many adventures, and now it belonged to my mother. Just like that, in a day. Oh, how a day changes everything. Speaking of a day, that’s how long it took for Mr. Phillip Rainshaw to confess his lust, I mean love, for my mother, who was an already married woman.

I’m quite certain he saw her tight ass and big breasts with gentle eyes that would calm a lion, and it outshined the small diamond ring that rested on her left hand, and I’m rather certain she saw his black Amex card given at the upscale spa where she worked as a receptionist in the ritziest area of Dallas, a small commute from the naval base in Fort Worth, Texas.

I stared at the oversized portrait of my mother, the cover for Entertainment Weekly so handsomely framed, paired next to the provocative article written of her that was designed to ruffle feathers, yet it was an article that did just the opposite; it made her a household name. And it was an article that hailed her the modern, golden gold digger. And she loved it, darling. “You can talk about me behind my back, but at least you’re talking about me,” was her famously quoted motto.

Her pearls glistened across her neck like a rich treasure found in a special case under the sea. Nothing could hide her thousand-watt, Colgate-white smile framed handsomely with veneers she landed once she officially became a Rainshaw. The strings of nearly a million dollars cascaded down her new breasts, another upgrade she happily wore. That and a nose job, cheek implants. She was already a beauty in my eyes, but this money made her the best version that she saw of herself and she proudly displayed her achievements.

Her pearly white veneers smiled a demure “fuck you, I don't care what you call me. I'm still rich, bitch.” That's what the producers loved about her on the show. She was who she was and no one could crumble her spirit or dim down her bright light. She was living her dream flying high in life, a life that no longer involved my biological father.

My father? Well, he wasn’t dead or anything. Just busy. And overseas.

But it wasn't always this way. They once were madly in love and the new life he had to make for himself filled with navy bases, traveling, and war. It was what he had to do because, well, I popped into the picture. Imagine that for a lifetime of guilt!

Dad was just a southern boy from a good family she fell in love with when they were both sophomores in high school and sixteen. With raging hormones and long dusty country back roads, it's easy to see how I happened. She had a nice family she married into, maybe not rich in monetary things, but rich in values, love, and traditions I adored and greatly missed once the big changeover took place. A family that revolved around football and Sunday dinners, who had roots in the first Methodist church downtown three generations back. A family who were honest and good working people who had no plans of ever leaving the good town of Tyler, Texas.

But mom had bigger dreams that expanded beyond the old oil town. As beauty pageant winner Miss Teen Tyler herself, she had the whole world ahead of her and the desire to be a famous model and actress was within reach by a thin few years once she received her diploma. Instead of being handed a rolled document ensuring her freedom and official stamp of approval to move west, she held another document that changed her life forever and sealed her momentary fate.

Me. Surprise! You’re fucking pregnant!

I don't blame her, I mean I see it all the time for a thirty-one-year-old woman to become bored and want to change her life, but cheating on my father was something I could never forgive her for. This change not only changed her life, but it drastically changed mine forever.

Marrying my dad never fit into that plan. Neither did getting pregnant. With me.

I was born six months after she graduated high school. My father joined the service to provide a living f

or us. For fifteen years of my life, we moved along the south to navy bases until we finally based in Forth Worth, Texas. Dad quickly grew in ranks and in frequent flyer miles to never-ending stupid wars I grew to hate.

From serving in the war and being in Iraq half of my life, it left my mother lonely and bored.

It took one day, one invitation to dinner after meeting Phillip, only one day, and the rest was history.

And that's when they began their affair. The next thing I knew we were upgrading our lives and moving to live with the family that was one of the wealthiest names in the country. As in billions. And as in the guy whose son I had like a diehard crush on. As in a guy I never, ever even thought in a bazillion years I’d ever meet, much less become family!

As uncomfortable it was for me, this role fit my mother like a glove. It only took her five years and she became famous in her own right from the hit show.

“You're going to love your new life. Trust me. We will go shopping and you can buy all the clothes you’ve ever wanted. You can decorate your room anyway you like. I’m going to throw you the most wonderful sweet sixteen. Just wait and see.”

My mom's entire being lit up like a Christmas tree that could be seen miles away

She’d found her golden ticket and was completely oblivious to my shrine I had of Bradley. The very shrine my friends copied and made their own version of, of the American boy toy who covered Teen Beat and Seventeen magazine.

My friends were insanely jealous when they discovered my new life plans and begged to come live with me in the summer in, squeal, the Hamptons. The squeal belonging to them, not me.

The Hampton manor was the biggest house I’d ever seen and I didn't even have to clean my room anymore. This new life was a different world with me arriving to it from a middle class military family; it was like living on planet Jupiter!

Being furious with my mother for cheating on my father and unable to live with him because he was stationed overseas, I had to move into a home with a family I knew nothing of, except that they were one of the wealthiest families in America. And oh, they had a son who just happened to be the very boy I had practically worshiped my entire eighth grade and ninth grade year.

My only hope and diversion was to throw my head in the books.