Small-Town Girl

by Jessica Keller

  Kendall’s gaze shifted back to the window when he said the word mother. Hers was still out there and it looked as though she was talking to someone, but the angle of the door blocked who. Kendall needed to wrap up the interview as quickly as she could while still being polite. She had to see whom her mother was speaking with.

  She turned her attention back to Jason. “Take comfort in the fact that your mother cares so much about you that she wants to see you happily settled.”

  A grin crept across his face. “In the newspaper world that’s what we call putting a spin on a story. Nicely done, Miss Mayes.” He crossed his legs and flipped to a new page in his notebook. “What drives you in this line of business?”

  She filtered through the canned responses she and Claire had worked through over dinner on Sunday and then took a deep breath. “It’s a joy to help people make memories, and I think that’s what this comes down to. Just this past week we had a man contact us to help plan a date so he could propose to his girlfriend. You should have seen her face! That’s why I do what I do. I want to hand someone one moment in time where everything is perfect, a moment that they can treasure forever. I believe everyone deserves that.” In reality, though, she’d never experienced a moment like that—a span of time when everything was perfect. During every relationship, her father’s abandonment had followed her on dates like a third wheel, whispering the whole time that the new guy would leave her too.

  Not good enough. Not...enough.

  “So you help people get to happily-ever-after?” Jason grinned and jotted something into his notebook.

  “You could say that.”

  “Well, that’s great.” Jason pinned her with a questioning stare. “But what about you, Miss Mayes? What about your happy ending?”

  “I don’t follow your question.”

  “Does the inspiration of Love on a Dime spring from a happily-ever-after in your own life?”

  “This isn’t about me... This is about the business.”

  “I know, but is this a situation where those who can’t play baseball coach instead?”

  Who was her mother speaking with outside? “That’s not how that phrase goes.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  Kendall took a large breath and tried to remember how Claire had told her to answer questions. “My happily-ever-after is this business. It comes from helping others. That’s what I care about.”

  “But the dates aren’t inspired by your own romantic life?”

  “I’m afraid that some of us don’t get the happy ending we dreamed of, which, of course, is why the special moments in life are even more important.” She forced a smile.

  “Describe for me a few examples of dates you might plan.”

  Kendall launched into the details of the hot air balloon date and a scavenger hunt date and then made sure to mention about the weekly sunset cruises. Just as they were wrapping up the interview, the bell above her door jingled and Claire Atwood stepped inside.

  She jogged over to the desk and squeezed Jason’s arm. “I’ve been calling and texting you like crazy.”

  Jason pulled his phone out of his bag. “I always turn it to Silent during an interview. You know that.”

  “I wish I’d recalled that sooner. I looked all over town for you before I remembered you’d be here. I have the best news. It’s the very best news I’ve ever received.”

  Even with the threat of her mother hovering outside the door, it was impossible not to start smiling at Claire’s obvious excitement.

  “Tell us, then.” Jason laughed.

  “The adoption went through.” Her voice rose an octave. “I finally get to bring Alexei home.” She bounced on the balls of her feet.

  Jason launched out of his seat. “You’re right. That is the best news I’ve heard all day.” He leaned in for a hug. “You have a son! You’re a mom!”

  “Congratulations.” Kendall stood up. “That’s so exciting. When will Alexei be here?”

  Claire pulled a photo out of her purse. “It’s an international adoption. He lives in Russia, so I’ll have to fly there and then stay through court proceedings.” She handed over the picture. A little boy with large, soulful brown eyes stared out through the image. “He’s six.”

  “He’s adorable.” Kendall handed the picture to Jason.

  Jason studied the little boy. “I’m so proud of you, coz.”

  “Coz?” Kendall tilted her head, considering Claire and Jason. “As in cousin?”

  “Yeah.” Jason slung his arm around Claire’s shoulders. Now that Kendall compared them, they did have the same-shaped nose and shared height. “Our moms are sisters.”

  Which would make Jason Sesser Atwood’s nephew. Local reporter must be a great person for the wealthy tycoon to be related to. No wonder Jason had promised to do a front-page spread about her business. Her success was Sesser’s success. Not that the man didn’t have the right to use every avenue to help promote his businesses, and she appreciated it too, but she wished Claire and Sesser would have been up front about the connection. Kendall would have been more relaxed for the interview if she had known Jason would write a positive article no matter what she said.

  The bell over the door rang again, drawing Kendall’s gaze. Brice stood on the threshold with a bouquet of pink gerbera daises in hand.

  Claire glanced over her shoulder, and her expression fell. “Looks like it’s time to leave, Jay.” She looped her arm through her cousin’s. Jason gave Kendall a salute and told her the article would run in the next paper, end of the week. He also mentioned to her that he planned on submitting his article to bigger publications and that sometimes they were picked up for wider circulation. After Claire and Jason exchanged awkward hellos with Brice, they headed out into the downtown portion of Goose Harbor.

  “Brice.” Kendall breathed his name. There were so many things she wanted to say. “Sorry” ranked high on the list. Yet somehow words failed at the moment. She’d rather stare at his broad shoulders and his strong jaw and enjoy the fact that he’d sought her out. That wasn’t normal practice for the men she’d met in her life. No one ever fought to keep her. Not to say that was what Brice was doing. But he was here—with flowers. That had to mean something.

  Brice worked his jaw back and forth. “I saw your mother down the sidewalk. Was she in here bothering you?”

  Kendall cupped her hand over her forehead. “Yes. Today, and yesterday, and the day before.”

  His boots ate up the distance between the door and her desk. “You’ve got to put a stop to it.”

  “How? What can I possibly do?”

  “File a police report.”

  “On my mother? I couldn’t. Isn’t that going against what God wants? There’s that whole ‘honor thy mother and father’ part of the Ten Commandments.”

  Brice shook his head. “Honoring doesn’t mean allowing yourself to be manipulated. You’re an adult now. You don’t live under her roof any longer. And she’s an adult who needs to accept responsibility for her problems.” He looked down at the flowers in his hands. “If it makes you feel better, I had to file a report against my father a few years back to get him to stop showing up at my house.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. And God hasn’t sent a lightning bolt to smite me just yet.” He winked.

  “But she’s threatened to say things about me... What will everyone think?”

  He stepped around the desk to stand right in front of her and then pressed the bouquet into her hands. “Those of us who know you and care about you will always believe the best about you.” He kept his hands on top of hers as they both cradled the flowers. “We also know that, no matter what she says, you’re not the person you might have been yesterday. We’re new every morning, complete with fresh starts.”

  The
warmth of his hands on top of hers and his softly spoken words made Kendall’s pulse zing through her veins. “These are beautiful.”

  His gaze shifted to something more intense. “You’re beautiful.”

  Kendall swallowed hard. “I’m going to put these in water.” She slipped her hands away from his, laid the bouquet on her desk and then opened her drawer to find her scissors. When she located them, her hands slipped, she fumbled the shears and the point cut across her palm. A flash of white-hot pain radiated from the cut. She fisted her hand. “Ow!”

  Brice grabbed her elbow. “What happened?”

  “I cut my hand.” Blood seeped out of the side of her fist. She shouldn’t have been moving so fast while she was flustered. But why was Brice here? The last time they’d spoken, really spoken, was days ago when she’d told him she only wanted a business relationship. After that they’d exchanged a tense Friday night sunset cruise and then hadn’t spoken all weekend. She’d assumed their friendship would end after that, especially after he had ignored her at church. “Grab me a paper towel?”

  “Is it deep? You might need to go to the hospital.”

  She flexed her hand, examining the cut. It was gross, but not deep enough to require stitches. “I’m fine. I’ll be good after the blood stops.”

  “Kend—”

  “I’ll even go to the police department and file a report.”

  “You will?” He sounded surprised.

  He was right. She needed to deal with her mother or else she’d never be free to start fresh here. And she badly wanted that, more now than ever before. Her eyes skirted to his. “I will.”

  He handed her a paper towel but still looked as though he was ready to launch into protector mode. “I’ll drive you there right now.”

  * * *

  Brice paced the interview room in the police department like a caged circus lion, growing angrier and angrier as Kendall detailed her story for Officer Wright. The radio attached to a loop on the officer’s uniform bellowed static intermittently.

  The officer nodded, encouraging Kendall to continue. “So your mother stole your identity?”

  “Yes. But you aren’t going to arrest her, are you? I don’t want her arrested.” Kendall shot a frightened look Brice’s way. “If you’re going to do that, then I want to stop the report.”

  Officer Wright laid down his pen. “The identity theft didn’t occur in our jurisdiction. Since it sounds like the illegal actions took place in Kentucky, a case would have to be filed against her there. What we’re doing here today is learning how to keep you safe in Goose Harbor. I need the background details in order to write a report.” He spoke in a calm and even voice, more than likely a product of his training. “Once you have the report, we can look at getting a court order that says she’s not allowed to contact you. That’s what we’re working toward right now.”

  Should Brice feel relieved that her mother wouldn’t get arrested? At the moment, he wasn’t. He wanted immediate and total justice for Kendall. Just like he wished his childhood self, crouching and trembling in the closet, could have been given justice. Dad had been arrested many times, but never for what he’d done to his family.

  Kendall took a deep breath. “Okay. Then yes. You know those credit card offers that come in the mail? The ones that say you’ve been selected for an amazing deal? Without my knowledge she filled out a bunch of those in my name and then maxed them all out. She destroyed my credit. I never filed a report on her, though, because she’s all the family I have and I didn’t want her to be arrested.”

  “So she compromised your Social Security number?”

  Kendall nodded.

  Brice turned and paced the room again, fisting and unfisting his hands. A gladiator of purpose took shape within his mind. Going forward, he’d protect Kendall any way that he could. With a deadbeat dad and a completely selfish mother, Kendall had been betrayed by the people who should have been there to comfort and take care of her during her formative years. No wonder she’d turned to serial dating. She was probably looking for someone—anyone—to tell her she was worth loving. And she’d mentioned before that she was always the one to break up first, which made sense with her background. Hurt before she got hurt. College students learned that in Psychology 101.

  Kendall traced a finger on her good hand across the edge of the table in the room. “Since she showed up in Goose Harbor, she’s been asking for money. Each time she’s threatened to ruin me here if I don’t give her more.”

  The officer pursed his lips. “And have you been giving her more money?”

  She adjusted the paper towel in her cut hand. More blood had seeped through. She hadn’t even properly cleaned the injury before coming to the police station.

  “I have.” Kendall confirmed Brice’s suspicion.

  He hadn’t realized his growl was audible until both Kendall and the officer stopped talking and turned to stare at him.

  “Brice, maybe you should wait out in the hall. I can do this,” Kendall assured him.

  “No. I’ll behave. I want to stay with you.” He moved next to the officer and eased a first-aid kit down from a hook on the wall. “I just don’t like to hear about you being treated like that. You should have been taken care of.” He took the empty seat next to Kendall and reached for her injured hand, turning it palm up, her slender fingers resting along his wrist. “You deserve to be taken care of.” She winced as he cleaned out the cut with rubbing alcohol but allowed him to keep cradling her hand.

  Officer Wright cleared his throat. “Starting today, stop giving her money. I don’t care what she says or threatens, don’t do it. If she shows up and you feel uncomfortable, call us right away. That’s what we’re here for.”

  Brice lifted her palm close to his lips, blowing on it lightly to dry the area. Dabbing the cut with ointment, he finished the process by wrapping her hand in gauze. Once done, he draped his hands around hers and held it on his lap. She looked down at their hands for a moment, then met Brice’s gaze and smiled.

  They left the police station with a report number in hand and instructions to call the department in a few days for a copy of the write-up. It wouldn’t fix the problem with her mother, but it was a step in the right direction. A step he’d been able to help her take. His heart swelled.

  Brice held open the passenger door to his car. “Can I take you for ice cream?”

  Kendall moved to sit down but then spun around and grabbed his wrist. “I need to tell you. I’m sorry for how I treated you. On the boat. It was wrong. I was scared. And—”

  “It’s okay.” He rested his hand on the vehicle’s roof, above her head. “I’m sorry too.”

  Her brow scrunched. “But you were—”

  “Grumpy? Terse? Rude?”

  She tapped his chest. “I think terse and rude by definition are the same thing actually.”

  He couldn’t hold back his goofy grin. Kendall was a match for him. She lightened up his too-serious moments and forced him to remember that there were things worth celebrating every single day. “All right, Miss Thesaurus, you haven’t answered my question. Can I take you out for ice cream?”

  She squeezed his wrist before letting go. “I’d like that a lot.”

  He drove her past the downtown portion of Goose Harbor and finally parked near the beach. “There’s a small shop that sells hand-churned ice cream. It’s the best-kept secret in town.”

  At Klingman’s Creamery she ordered a waffle cone with chocolate marshmallow ice cream, and he went old school and got the sugar cone with vanilla dipped in sprinkles.

  “I’m not a big chocolate fan,” he explained as they strolled out toward the beach. Their shoulders bumped as they walked close together.

  “Pity.” She pouted. “But I guess it’s a good thing in the end. There’s more chocolate available in the world
now for me.” They took a few steps before she let out a long breath. “Did I do the right thing? Reporting my mother?”

  “You did.”

  “It feels wrong. I feel guilty. Aren’t we supposed to turn the other cheek?”

  Tough question, but thankfully it was something he’d struggled with for most of his adult life, so he could give her a gut-level answer. “Turning the other cheek doesn’t mean allowing yourself to get walked on. It’s not honoring God to let people use you or to accommodate any sinful behaviors they might have.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  He pointed to an empty bench along the boardwalk and they both sat down and stared out into the lake. The silence between them was comfortable. This was what Brice had envisioned all those years ago when he considered the idea of growing old with someone. Why had he ever thought Audra, who filled every lull with chatter and wanted to go out every evening and never took time to breathe, was a good match for him?

  Kendall finished her cone long before he did. “Brice? Can I ask you a serious question?”

  “Sure.”

  “A guy like you... There are a lot of available women in this town—really great women.”

  Knowing what she was getting at, he stalled for time. “I don’t think that’s a question.”

  “Why are you single?”

  Be honest. Open up. “No girl in her right mind ever wanted me.”

  “I don’t believe you’re that insecure.” Her fingers grazed his arm. “Wait. Are you? Brice,” she hissed. “That’s ridiculous. How could you think that? You can’t say they don’t want you unless you’ve asked. And I haven’t seen you going around asking girls to marry you, so—”

  “I did ask and she said no.”

  Kendall’s face fell. “Oh.”

  “You know my cabin? I bought that place with money I’d been saving all through college. I had a girlfriend at the time. Her name was Audra Byrd. I thought I was in love.” He shrugged. It felt strange even saying “love” and “Audra” in the same sentence. What they’d had was never love. Not even close.