by Siera London
"Seriously,” she gave him the side eye. “You can strength train a ten-year-old?”
"You're thinking about with weights. Namely they use their own body weight with exercise routines that include burpees, squats, mountain climbers, and a whole bunch of donkey kicks.”
“Wow, it all sounds fascinating. I can't believe how much there is to this.”
Large hands covered hers, squeezing.
“What sports did you participate in as a kid?”
She stiffened. There had never been enough money for extracurricular activities. Her father worked as a janitor at the junior high school. Giving birth to Kelby had been hard on her mother’s body. According to her dad, June Springfield had wanted a large family, a house bustling with little feet. But six years later when Tiffany arrived, he realized the deliveries had been worse on his wife’s mental state. June’s history of depression resurfaced in the postpartum period and she never fully recovered.
“I didn’t. My mom was sick off and on, so I helped my dad with my little sister.”
Hank twisted, so he could regard her face. Kelby wanted to shy away, but remained still. Much of the childhood had been consumed with chores, studying, and babysitting Tiffany.
“That had to be challenging.”
“You have no idea,” she moved to sit up, but he stopped her. “Relax darling. Finish telling me about your family.”
She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. “Nothing much to tell. I was in graduate school when I lost my dad. He was my hero.”
Kelby went with it when Hank closed his arms around her front, holding her tight.
“How long ago?”
“Five years ago.” Longer for her mom. Not that she was dead, but the frequent mental health hospitalizations had left both sisters little more than strangers to their mother.
“And your momma?” he prompted.
“She lives Florida,” was all she said. Kelby recalled the day her mother told them life would be better for them if she disappeared from their lives. She wanted them to finish their education like their father would’ve wanted, get married, and have families of their own. You’ll waste your life caring for me, her mother had said. Kelby had been too stunned to respond. June had taken her silence as agreement. It wasn’t. “It’s just me and Tiffany now. We take care of each other.”
“Sounds like a big job without any down time.”
“Tiffany’s twenty-one now. She graduates next spring with her Doctor of Pharmacy degree.” Kelby wondered sometimes if her sister chose medicine in hopes of helping her mother with her ongoing battle. Their father had always valued education, though he’d dropped out of high school to help his single mother support his younger brothers and sisters.
“Well, sounds like me and Elliott came along at the right time.”
She smiled. “You two have perfect timing.”
His eyes sparkled with joy, and Kelby laughed. This was what she’d wanted when she’d agreed to marry Bradford. A man who liked her company, laughed at her jokes, loved her mind and…body. A man who had no desire to pound a woman’s self-esteem into a stepping stool in order to elevate himself. Looking back, she had no idea why she’d held on to the marriage for three years.
“Boy howdy. You’re never going to get rid of me if you keep hooking my male ego with the one-liners.”
She laughed. “Good to know.”
“Yeah you should come back to a meet. Elliott’s been working really hard with passing the baton, starting fast right out of the blocks, and working on some of the other field events like the long jump and hurdling.”
“Hank,” she sighed. “I really am glad you invited me out today… and last night.”
“Thank my son. He was the one smart enough to get you to say yes.”
She gave him a coy grin. “I would've said yes if you asked me, silly.”
“Glad to hear it,” he chuckled, “wish you would’ve said something before I became a Girl Scouts troop leader.” They both giggled.
“I wondered at that,” she said, stroking his cheek.
“How about some adult time, just you and me after I put Elliott down to bed?”
Kelby wasn't sure she was ready for that. Yes, she was having a good time but spending two consecutive nights with Hank would not only get the tongues to wagging back in Endurance, but it might lead her somewhere she wasn't ready to go. Commitment to a man with a child had to be considered carefully. Tiffany’s education was her priority, not helping Hank with his son. Not that Hank gave off a needy vibe, but she’d been wrong before.
“You seem hesitant. Why? It's all out fun, Kelby. Or, all out of love. Your choice. I’ll take you however I can you, but I’m not above a little manipulation,” he warned.
Thought he meant it as a joke, Kelby’s heart jumped in her chest. What if she chose wrong again? She decided to share her fear…well, one of them.
“Hank, I’ve been involved with a man who had a child before.”
He immediately stiffened and she was sorry for the way she'd said it. Elliott was a wonderful child, well-mannered nothing like her previous experience, but Kelby had a lot of scars from that relationship. And she wasn't ready for more.
“If you're worried about me taking advantage of you because I have a child, don't. I've been a single dad most of my adult life. I was twenty-two years old when Elliott was born. I've been taking care of him since the moment he came out of the womb. I'm not gonna lie. It would be great to have another adult help me on a full-time basis. But that doesn't have to be you. I've got sitters and friends. Luke and I help each other out a lot. I watch his daughter Shiloh and in return when I have something planned, like tonight with you, he'll watch Elliott.”
“Tonight? You make it sound like a foregone conclusion.”
“No, not at all. But since you've dated a single father before, you know planning is essential. I just can't take off to have a good time with a woman. I’ve got to make sure my son is taken care of first. Any woman who's gonna be with me has to understand that.”
Kelby did. She actually felt relief he had a plan for Elliott and they had a good relationship.
“So, what do you say to tonight? Nothing heavy has to happen” he paused, “unless you’re wanting to. We can do a movie, popcorn with all the butter you can stomach, sodas-or beer and wine. Whatever you want, Kelby.”
She wanted more time with him. Years had passed since she’d been intimate with a man, and boy was she ready for more of his kisses, his hands on her curves.
She was just about to say yes when she heard her name being called. Dear baby in a manger, she knew that voice. And she had hoped never to hear it again. She looked up and there stood Mayor Bradford Vance, her ex-husband.
“It is you,” he rasped, tone accusatory.
Kelby didn’t bother with the niceties. Bradford Vance didn’t deserve kindness. “What are you doing here, Brad?”
“I could ask you the same. You have a kid I don't know about?”
Hank interrupted. “I'm Hank Stewart and you are?”
Bradford immediately zeroed in on Hank, sizing him up. From his hair that was slightly long on the top, the bit of morning scruff, his T-shirt with the rolled-up sleeves, the worn jeans that hugged his butt, and the big cowboy boots covering his feet. Bradford couldn’t hold a match to Hank, but he would find him lacking.
“I’m Kelby's husband,” he smirked, not offering his hand in greeting, “Mayor Bradford Vance.”
A big smile spread across Hank's face, but it didn't reach his eyes. “So, you’re Brad.” Kelby recalled Gordie divulging what she’d shared on social media. Lesson learned. Hank turned those piercing dark eyes on her. “Somebody's been busy with dates and husbands.”
“Husband, singular. And, he's not my husband anymore,” she bit out.
“I was.”
“Legally, yes. We both know you’re a miserable failure as a husband, a certified liar and a cheat,” she spat.
“Don't sound so bitte
r,” he jeered. “Though, by the looks of things," he glanced at Hank, "you're a long way from the mayor's mansion."
And there it was. The verbal arrows he loved to pierce her with. Bradford used to her playing the diplomat raised a brow in challenge. Kelby welcomed the fight.
"Bitter," she scoffed. "Try grateful. Trust me, those divorce papers are framed and hanging on the wall like a freaking diploma.”
Kelby’s voice climbed and people had started to stare. Just then a lanky little boy barreled in between the adults glaring at one another and wrapped his thin arms around Kelby's legs.
“Mommy! You’re back.”
From behind her, Hank hissed as if scalded. Please, don’t walk away she thought. Give me a chance to explain. So many of her friends had drifted away after her marriage; she couldn’t bear losing Hank too. Why hadn’t she realized how corrupt and tainted her fiancé had been? She wondered how many of her classmates and mentors had pitied her? They’d distanced themselves before the bloodbath, shielding their lives from the scattered carnage of her decisions.
Nicholas was Brad’s only child—that he acknowledged. Seems her husband had a long-term mistress he failed to mention until he wanted a child, the one she hadn’t produced on the campaign trail. Nicky had arrived at the rented Victorian with his mother, one of Bradford’s aides and a suitcase—he’d been four and Kelby had been speechless.
“You abandoned your child?" Hank snapped.
“No, she gave him a squelching look. Turning to Nicholas she said. “Hello wonderful boy,” and hugged him. It’s so good to see you again.” Bradford treated his son like one of his campaign constituents. He smiled and tousled his auburn curls for the camera but afterwards he paid little attention to his son or to his then wife.
“I miss you,” Nicholas said, “When are you coming home?”
Kelby could feel Hank at her back. He wasn't gone, but he was no longer at her side.
“I’ve missed you too, honey,” she glared up at Bradford when she spoke. It was his fault she no longer had a connection to this little boy. When he had thrown her out of the house, he’d basically thrown her out of his son's life.
“Then, why disappear? You’re welcome to come and get Nicholas at any time.”
With Hank watching, she hoped to avoid a scene. Bradford kept her as his target. For that, she was thankful. No doubt the mayor thought twice about tangling with a man Hank’s size and losing in front of his demographic. Her ex- could draw an audience with his crafted tales faster than Dickens. Leading up to the divorce, he’d torpedoed her professional reputation within the city. She was the wife he’d cheated on, but somehow, he became the victim-Sacramento’s lead public servant trapped in a loveless, childless marriage with a woman who didn’t share his vision.
“Dad.” That was Elliott. Kelby had officially crossed over into the drama zone. Something no single parent-wanted or needed around their child.
“Why is Miss Kelby hugging the competition?"
Hank took a hold of his son’s hand. “Seems this is Mrs. Kelby's friend and his little boy. She knew them before she moved to Endurance.”
Elliott looked straight at Kelby and asked. “You aren't kissing friends, are you?”
She recoiled at the thought. She’d considered packing the day she learned of Brad’s affair, but Nicky had looked so alone. She couldn’t abandon him. As for her marriage of thirteen months, Kelby had moved into one of the four guest rooms that same night. The physical part of her relationship ended, and she hadn’t missed a man’s touch…until Hank.
“No, Elliott. I only do that with your dad." She hoped that would take the scowl off Hank's face.
It didn't.
Chapter 7
The mayor’s wife.
Hank struggled to process that Kelby had an ex-husband, a stepson. Boy howdy, he rubbed his forehead. She’d been the first lady of an entire city. She’d lived in a mansion. How could he compete with the lifestyle she’d become accustomed to living? Hank was a simple man with uncomplicated tastes. He had no idea about fine wines, formal dinner parties, or diplomacy. He sure has hell didn’t wear a dress shirt and pressed trousers to a track field or plow his inky black hair into submission with a fancy one-word hair gel. Was this a repeat of his relationship with Jodi Ann?
Now he understood how Kelby could stay calm with Gordie tracking her like a Pterodactyl ready to swoop in and carry her off. Mrs. Mayor Bradford “Brad” Vance. No wonder she was good with children. She’d married a man-baby. Maybe, Hank should end things now before he got in too deep with a woman he could never satisfy.
The kids, Elliott and Nicholas had returned to the track and the man-baby had sauntered off. At Kelby’s obvious distress, Hank had pulled her into his arms, offering comfort. She’d pushed him away, excused herself, mumbling something about the ladies’ room. He’d just started beating himself up for falling for the wrong woman again, when she returned, collapsing next to him. A dark shadow had descended between them and Hank didn’t feel so sure about his chances with Kelby.
“You okay?” he asked.
She looked over at him, a weariness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before the ex popped in.
“No. Bradford is an arrogant, self-righteous SOB. I’m so sorry you had to witness that.”
Hank was glad he had. It raised some questions he hadn’t bothered to consider. A point Owen made last night. What did he know of Kelby Springfield? Obviously, she’d reverted back to her maiden name.
“We okay, Hank?”
Instead of trying to answer a question he couldn’t truly know, he said. “The mayor’s wife.”
A furrow formed between her brows and her mouth thinned. “I was married, Hank, but…I was never a wife.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that.” He looked off in the distance, not wanting her to see all the turmoil thrashing around in his head. He might not know the way ahead, but he for sure wasn’t ready for things to end this way between them.
She sighed and shook her head. “I stayed too long… for the wrong reasons.”
“Nicholas had something to do with that?”
The crowd cheered, but both of them looked on, unseeing.
Hank sat unmoving when Kelby turned and took his hand in hers. She would either tell him they had a chance or she’d made a mistake. What did he want?
“Partly. Nicky is a wonderful child. He’s loving, respectful, and brilliant. He deserves a better father. And…I deserve a better man. A man like you.”
Hank nodded. “Where’s his mother?”
“Probably still in Brad’s bed when he rings for her,” she frowned. “Connie was another student, Hank. Younger, prettier, and way more malleable.”
Hank drew back, not believing his ears. Kelby was beautiful, especially today. She wore a green and white jersey with the words, Endurance Elementary screenprinted on the front, cut-off blue jean shorts, and Crocs on her feet.
Threading his fingers through hers, he held on. “Malleable and younger-yes. Prettier-no way.”
She sucked in a breath and smiled at him. “You always say the right thing Hank Stewart.”
Not really, but he’d take it. She’d mentioned Nicholas was one of the reasons she stayed in what had to be an awful marriage. Was it the money, the prestige, or the attention that kept her tied to a man who obviously loved himself more than he could a wife or a child? Kelby was sensible, compassionate, giving. Or was she? Had she loved Bradford Vance?
“You said your stepson was one reason. What was the other?”
Kelby released his hand, rubbing both palms over her face. A weary sigh escaped her lips. She dropped her hands, opened her eyes, and whispered. “My sister.”
Her sister? Kelby and her sister had a six- or seven-year age difference. Tiffany would have been a high school graduate. What possible impact could the marriage have had? Hank was just about to ask when the sound of rapidly approaching feet and the smell of melted cheese and Italian meats passed his nostrils.
&n
bsp; Elliott ran forward, taking his and Kelby’s hand. “Dad, the pizzas are here.”
With his son between them, they moved to join the rest of the team in the grass area beyond the track.
Hank gave Kelby a solemn expression. He wasn’t hungry for food. He wanted answers. Whatever Bradford Vance had done to Tiffany Springfield had been worse than cheating, producing a child outside of the marriage, and expecting Kelby to raise his son. It all sounded like a living nightmare to Hank, so why had she stayed?
* * *
Kelby gathered up the empty pizza boxes even though Hank had told her he would take care of the clean up. At first, she thought him angry with her, but now she knew—he was disappointed. She had no idea what the ride back to Endurance would be like, but her belly churned with anxiety. Would he even allow her in his truck? No Uber or Lyft drivers in this part of the country. Xenobia would give her an earful once she learned of Kelby's former marriage. Elliott grabbed the last bread stick from a plastic basket on the folding table and chomped into it.
"Dad and I are going to get you a team jersey, Miss Kelby. You can only wear it to the track though. Dad says not to sleep or fish in it or it'll get holes. And, he's not buying another one.”
"Sounds great, Elliott." Kelby doubted Hank would buy her a peppermint ball. She wondered if the fishing trip Elliott chattered about on the drive over was off the table. She'd hit the jackpot with a guy like Hank. And then Bradford happened. Bradford. That marriage had jeopardized everything she held dear, then and now. She and Hank connected, beyond the obvious attraction. Now, the budding relationship had hit a hurdle, and she was afraid Hank would call it quits.
"You alright, Miss Kelby? You look sad."
She gave a weak smile. "Too much sun," she replied. "Where's your dad?"
Hank had gone to help the other fathers store and inventory the equipment. The kids were quick to deposit expensive track shoes and uniforms on the bleachers once the pizza arrived.