by Holly Jacobs
Well, he’d made a difference for Jenny. He had decided to go over to the restaurant and give her the good news when a movement outside caught his attention.
It was Kennedy. She was walking on the path down toward the woods.
Mal had grown up walking that path down to the creek and the falls. In the summer they’d gone swimming at the hole at the base of the falls. In the winter they rode sleds down the steep hill.
It was a steep enough hill no pregnant woman should try to go it down alone.
He got up and sprinted out the back door.
He realized he hadn’t locked the building but didn’t stop to go back and do so. This was Cupid Falls. Pap never locked the door. It wouldn’t have occurred to him to do so.
Mal thought about shouting for Kennedy to wait, but he was afraid she’d simply walk faster, so he kept jogging along after her.
The path snaked its way down, first to the right, then to the left, never straight down. It wove in between the ash, maple, and hickory trees that made up the woods.
He reached the bottom and slowed. Kennedy was standing at the edge of the swimming hole, staring at the falls. They weren’t much when compared to Niagara Falls, but the five-foot drop had seemed huge when he was a kid. The sound of the water was enough to cover the sound of his movements. He didn’t want to startle Kennedy, so he quietly said her name.
“Kennedy.” She turned and he saw that she was crying. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just being pregnant,” she said, as if to make light of her tears.
He wasn’t buying it. “Really, what’s wrong?”
“I did some funeral arrangements the other day for Steve Stevenson. He’s a local farmer. I’m sure I saw him in passing around town, but I don’t know him. I talked to his son, Jonah. He stopped in today to tell me how beautiful the arrangements were, and then he talked about the farm and his dad. His father was born Amish. Did you know that?”
“No. I don’t think I knew the family, although his name sounds familiar.”
“He was a few years behind us in school. I don’t know. After he left, well, I needed a break. This is my favorite place in Cupid Falls, but it’s been snowy, and given my barge-like form, I don’t come down often. But today was so warm, I wanted one more visit before the baby comes.”
They stood next to each other, watching the falls. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kennedy occasionally brush away a tear.
“I’m sorry for the family’s loss,” he finally said.
“According to Jonah, his father had time to say good-bye and put his affairs in order. He died at home, surrounded by family. He knew Jonah was going to take over the farm. They’d worked side by side for years. It was a good way to go. It’s good he got to say good-bye.”
In hindsight, he knew how important that was. “Did you get to say good-bye to your parents?”
She shook her head. “In a way, but not really.”
Mal realized that he knew she’d lost both her parents, but he’d never asked how. He’d never asked anything.
She’d been there for him when he’d lost his mother, and knowing her aunt, he suspected no one had really been there for her when she’d lost her parents. If there were do-overs, that’s one he’d want—being able to be there for her back then.
“What happened?” he asked, not sure if she’d answer.
“Mom and Dad had plans to go away for a weekend—an anniversary celebration. So I was spending the weekend at a friend’s—Lori Ann’s. I’d felt sick the night before, but I got up to go to school with my bag packed for the weekend. Mom said if I didn’t feel better to call and they’d cancel their weekend. I told her I’d be fine . . .”
She stared at the creek and Mal thought she was done, but then she whispered, “I said good-bye to them both when I left for school. I said I’d see them on Sunday. Dad kissed my head and Mom hugged me, then asked if I had my homework . . .”
Mal could see she was lost in the past, and he could see that even after all these years, she felt the pain. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her. “I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “It was a long time ago. And I guess I did say good-bye, I just didn’t know I was saying good-bye forever. For years I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t spent the night at Lori Ann’s. What if I’d called and said I still felt sick? What if I’d come home?”
“What happened?”
“I found them in bed on Sunday. It was carbon monoxide. They went to sleep in their room and never woke up. The doctor said I’d probably been sick because I’d been exposed to the carbon monoxide, too. He said I was lucky I left. I didn’t feel lucky.”
He couldn’t imagine what that would be like. A sixteen-year-old girl finding her parents like that. More than anything he wished he’d known her then. He’d wished he’d been with her.
He wanted to say something to ease the pain of the woman in his arms, something that would ease the horror that sixteen-year-old had found. She’d walked in and not only found her parents dead, she’d found her entire world upended.
But because he couldn’t find the magic words, he held her close and whispered the only words he could find. “Oh, Kennedy, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Kennedy sat, wrapped in Malcolm’s arms.
She couldn’t believe she’d just told him all that.
She hadn’t expected to feel like this over a stranger’s death. When Jonah Stevenson talked about his father leaving his family and the Amish way of life behind, she’d felt this huge hole she hadn’t known existed open up and threaten to swallow her. Jonah talked about how out of place his father had felt as he’d tried to build a new life for himself in a new community. The Amish called non-Amish people English. And Jonah talked about his father’s difficulties in the English community.
She wished she’d met his father, because she knew exactly how he’d felt. She remembered when her parents died. Lost. Alone. Adrift. She’d lost her family, her home in Cleveland, and her friends.
Aunt Betty had taken her in out of a sense of obligation. For the first few years Kennedy couldn’t find any footing. She was a stranger in Cupid Falls. An outsider. At school, the kids had all known each other from kindergarten on. They had circles of friends and cliques. She didn’t feel as if she fit in any of them.
And her aunt didn’t know what to do with a confused, angry teenage girl. She sheltered her and fed her, but Kennedy wasn’t sure Aunt Betty had ever loved her.
She’d worked hard to build a place for herself here in Cupid Falls, but despite the fact she had the store and was the town’s mayor, there were still times she felt like that sixteen-year-old girl—lost and alone. A girl whose whole world was taken away from her in the course of a weekend.
Listening to Jonah Stevenson speak, she knew she still felt every bit as much an outsider as his father had been.
Malcolm didn’t say anything. He simply held her and waited.
Well, she’d had enough baring of her soul for the day, so she sat up, pulling away from his embrace, and said, “Jonah mentioned that Gideon had been at the funeral. If you sell me the Center, I’d like to hire him to do some of the renovations.”
She felt a kinship with Gideon, as well as Jonah’s father. People who were displaced—who didn’t quite fit in.
She put her hand on the baby, who kicked as if to remind her that she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d never be truly alone again.
“Is the baby kicking?” Malcolm asked. “I saw your hand jump.”
She nodded.
“May I feel him again?”
There was no way to say no to such an earnest request, so she nodded. She reached out and took his hand and placed it on the spot where the baby had just kicked. She felt him kick again, as if he knew his father wanted to feel him.
>
“Wow. He’s strong.”
“Tell me about it. He likes to kick about three in the morning. I live in terror that his night owl tendencies will continue when he’s born. I’m not sure how I’ll manage being up all night and work.”
“If you married me, you could qui—”
“Quit?” she finished for him. She tried to tamp down her annoyance at his suggestion. “You think I’d give up everything I worked for because it was hard? You think I’d let down the town who elected me and resign being mayor? I know Cupid Falls is a small town—that it’s the kind of town you’d be hard-pressed to find on a map—but it’s my responsibility. I come here to the falls and remember that story about a man and woman meeting here and falling in love. And all the other couples after them. They all gave this town its name. And while it will never be a big city, it’s got a big heart. I like to think that its heart is a reflection of that first couple.”
“Maybe some of it, but I think any heart the community has is a reflection of its mayor.”
She shook her head. She didn’t know what to make of him. First he suggested she give up everything she’d worked for, then he offered her a sweet compliment. “I’ve got to get back to work. Thank you for the proposal, but no.”
“Before you go,” Malcolm said. “I got a hold of Wade Murray.”
“And?”
“It will be fine. He’ll not only sign the divorce papers, he’s going to start sending Jenny child support, so hopefully things will get a little easier for her.”
“I know Wade, and that doesn’t seem like something he’d just up and offer to do. And I know Jenny wasn’t worried about support, she simply wanted him to leave the kids with her.”
“I know. But it seemed unfair to me that he expected her to raise their kids on her own. And I might have implied I was ready to help Jenny sue him for five years of back child support. Even a nominal amount for each kid multiplied by five years with interest would be a lot.” He smiled a devilishly pleased smile. “And my ballpark figure seemed to put the fear of God in him. He’s going to sign the papers immediately and start making payments this month. In return, Jenny will generously agree not to pursue back payments.”
She laughed. “Does Jenny know about her generous offer?”
“I was about to go find her at the restaurant when I saw you.”
Kennedy gave a delighted squeal and hugged him. It was an awkward hug, but she couldn’t help but think that the baby liked being sandwiched between its parents. “Thank you, Malcolm. Thank you so much. You’ve made a huge difference in her life.”
She realized that she was still hugging Malcolm and pulled back. “Sorry.”
“No apologies required. Just think, if you agreed to marry me, you could hug me as often as you liked.” He said it as if they were joking, but he watched her with more intensity than was required.
Kennedy shook her head. “And while hugging you is very nice, it’s not enough of a reason to marry someone. But seriously, thank you. You’ve changed somebody’s life today.”
Malcolm’s talk with Jenny had been satisfying. He’d made a difference for her.
She’d started crying and hugged him. Tavi and the rest of the customers in the restaurant were still giving him the stink eye, but he noticed Tavi didn’t kick or step on him. That was progress.
And this morning with Kennedy at the falls . . . that was progress, too. She’d shared with him. Trusted him with her past. It might not be a marriage, but they were . . . closer.
He walked down the holiday-decorated street and felt lighter. His life was still a mess, but he felt a sense of optimism. Things would work out.
He’d see to it.
He stopped outside the Center and stared at the building. The building Kennedy wanted to buy. Maybe he . . .
His phone rang. He checked the caller ID and almost groaned when he saw his father’s number. When his father called before lunch, nothing good could come of it.
Mal wanted to send the call to voice mail, but instead, he hit Talk. “Sir?”
“Do you have those files on the Thompson case?” his father barked with no preamble or salutation.
“Yes. I was going to—”
“You’re off the case, so you don’t need to do anything other than bring them in to the office ASAP.”
Mal felt a stab of regret. The Thompson case was a big one. But on the heels of that regret came annoyance. “You know, you could start a conversation like a regular human being. Something like ‘Hi, Mal, how are things? I’ve missed you,’” he said sarcastically.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” his father harrumphed. “I need those files.”
“I could e-mail you the information.”
“I prefer the hard copies.”
“I’ll bring them tomorrow.”
“Fine.” His father disconnected.
“Good-bye, son. Can’t wait to see you,” Mal said to no one but himself.
He went inside, scribbled on a Post-it note, put it on the front door, then headed over to Kennedy’s.
He walked into her shop. It smelled sweet with an undercurrent of something spicy.
Kennedy came out of the back room, an apron over her stomach. It had an arrow pointing at her huge stomach that said “Mama’s Little Bud” with a picture of a rosebud.
She saw what he was looking at and smiled. “Jenny and Joan were talking at the restaurant. Joan found a site that would make you whatever kitchen item you wanted. So, Joan got me this one.” She pulled a second apron out from under the counter, and it had a frog on it and said, “Mama’s Little Tadpole.”
“Those are awful.” He grinned as he said the words because they were awful in a wonderful way.
“Yeah, they’re pretty bad,” she said, laughing.
Mal knew that bad or not, she’d wear them. “I brought you a present, too. It’s for the baby, so you can’t say no.” He handed her the small bag. Slowly, she took the bag and opened it. She looked at the wrapper.
“It’s a band you wear that’s supposed to help support your stomach,” he said.
When she didn’t say anything, he added, “It’s supposed to help with back pain.”
She looked up at him. “How did you know my back hurts?”
“I pay attention,” he said.
Kennedy looked from the bag to the man who’d given it to her. “Malcolm, I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, I’m hoping you’ll say you’ll keep an eye on things at the Center tomorrow. I’ve got to go to Pittsburgh and take some papers to my father. That was the second reason I came over. There’s nothing much going on other than a book club meeting. Saturday there’s the Comstock family’s annual pre-Christmas party.”
Kennedy laughed. “That isn’t simply a family . . . they’re a clan. Vivienne’s got four siblings and her dad was one of eight.”
Mal nodded. “Pap always said as long as the Comstocks kept having babies, the Center will have financial security. They can’t fit in any one person’s house. I can’t imagine they’ll need anything, they’ve done parties with us so often, but in case . . .”
She nodded. “I’m on it.”
“I was going to set up the tree at the Center tonight. It was something Pap, Mom, and I always did together. I wondered if you’d come over and help.”
Kennedy paused, and for a moment he thought she was going to say no, but she nodded. “Okay. I helped them the last few years.”
“Because I didn’t come home.” He regretted all the times he didn’t find time to come home. All the trees he didn’t decorate. All the moments he missed. He thought of Jenny. Of her warning that he’d regret the moments he missed with his child, and he knew with absolute certainty that she was right.
“Malcolm, that’s not what I meant. It wasn’t some slam.”
Kennedy l
ooked contrite, and he hurriedly assured her, “I know that’s not how you meant it. But I blame myself for not coming home. For not making my family a priority. I felt as if I had to put my career first. And you know my father. He’s not big on time off for holidays. I had cases . . .” He shrugged. “Those are only excuses, my way of trying to make myself feel better, because you and I both know I should have been home.”
“If you thought your mom was sick, that she needed you, you’d have been here. I know it. She knew it.” Kennedy rested her hands on the silly apron over the baby. “You had no reason to believe you wouldn’t have years of holidays to spend with her.”
“But I didn’t have those years of holidays.” And that was something he’d have to find a way to live with, but he’d always regret missing those moments with his mom.
“No you didn’t,” Kennedy said. “But you can’t live your life expecting the worst. You didn’t know.”
He didn’t want to rehash his guilt over not being here more for his mom, so he changed the subject. “I better get back to work on those papers for my father. I’ll let you get back to your work. When you’re done here, why don’t you come over? We need to go pick up a tree and then decorate. I’ll bring the boxes up this afternoon so we’ll be ready.”
“Sounds good,” Kennedy said.
After Malcolm left, Kennedy tried on the belly band, and it did ease the nagging ache in her back.
She wished she could do something to ease Malcolm’s ache over the times he’d missed with his mom. She knew that Val had always known he loved her.
She also knew that she could tell him that and she could reassure him, but he wasn’t going to believe her, even if he knew she was right.
Knowing and feeling were two very different things.
She suddenly realized she did have something that might help Malcolm.
She went on her computer, dug up the file, and burned it to disc.
She closed the shop early and ran home to take care of the second part of her reminder for Malcolm and was practically skipping by the time she walked into the Center. Practically skipping because she was the size of a small house, and houses don’t skip.