by Rebeca Seitz
Kendra opened her Bible and turned to the Scripture reference printed on her church bulletin. It looked like Daddy had picked loyalty as the preaching topic for this morning. Good. Kendra was loyal to a fault. Shouldn’t be any more whammos like Sunday school.
“Have you ever had a friend betray you?” Daddy asked the congregation, leaning over the pulpit and studying the faces of his audience. “Ever been so close to somebody— thought you knew ’em like the back of your hand—and then find out they weren’t what you thought?”
Several heads nodded.
“Ever turned to a friend in time of need, so sure he’d help you out, and been told no?”
More heads nodded.
“Ever been the one doing the telling?”
The heads stopped.
“It’s easy to remember when we’ve been slighted or hurt. It’s harder to remember and admit when we’re the ones doing the slighting. But we’ve got to admit it, my friends. Got to go to our brothers and sisters who bear battle scars from wounds we inflicted and say we’re sorry. We’ve got to get real with ourselves and admit when we hurt each other.”
Should I call Harrison’s wife?
The thought slammed into Kendra’s brain like a freight train flying off its tracks. Where did that come from?
“You know when you’re doing something hurtful, don’t you?”
Kendra looked to make sure Daddy wasn’t asking her directly. No. His eyes were on the Segers in the row behind her.
“You know when you’ve picked that perfect word to put somebody in their place or you said something about somebody in town, only not to their face. We’ve all done it, on one level or another. Don’t go thinking you’re better or worse than any of the rest of us sitting in this room.
“But when we wrong somebody, we have a responsibility as representatives of Christ’s love to go and say we’re sorry. Not for our own sake, but for the sake of the person you’ve wronged. You’ve got to let them know you value them, you were wrong, and you know it. You’ve got to humble yourself and ask forgiveness.”
Kendra pictured going to Harrison’s house and knocking on the door. She had no idea what his house or his wife looked like, but she pictured a pseudo-Southern McMansion and a heavy oak door. The woman answering it would be haggard, mousy brown hair hanging in dry clumps, angry eyes staring out from a gaunt face. What would that woman say if Kendra appeared out of nowhere? What would Kendra say?
What could she say? It wasn’t as if she and Harrison had an affair. They shared one kiss months ago.
But it was more than that.
So much more. Harrison’s words of praise rose up in her mind, and her responses, telling him what a good man he was—how smart, how professional, how undeserving of an uninvolved woman. Their relationship had become something it shouldn’t, but that was as far as her definition could reach.
So really, what could she say to his wife? Your husband has been talking to me. Um, no.
Kendra tuned Daddy out, certain he wasn’t preaching about a topic as convoluted as hers.
Eighteen
Kendra spent the week at the Sisters, Ink offices during the day and sharing phone conversations with Darin at night. He was hip-deep in development plans for the Leiper’s Fork property and getting miffed that the paperwork wasn’t complete on the sale of the land. Kendra listened to his struggles, loving that he shared this side of his life with her. She painted after their conversations.
She was amassing quite a collection of small, happy paintings.
Her lips lifted as she adjusted the green and yellow ribbon on Savannah’s birthday present Saturday morning. Spending her nights on the phone with Darin had done wonders for her troubled sleeping habits, and she loved how the whites of her eyes held no more red from lack of sleep.
Darin. A truly great guy. His first wife had to be an idiot for cheating on him. Kendra hoped she never met the woman. Then again, it’d be good to know what that much stupidity looked like when packaged in human form.
The blade of the scissors curled the ribbons. Savannah would have a ball with the ribbon.
Kendra considered inviting Darin to the party, but as close as they’d drawn over the past few weeks, she didn’t want to pull him that far into the family just yet. It was nice, having something to herself for a little while, not because it had to be hidden but because she chose not to share it all the way.
She curled the last ribbon and put the scissors back in their drawer. Better get on the road, or she’d be late to the party.
Enormous puffy clouds studded the sky when Kendra drove down the road toward Meg’s house. Meg’s behavior was very odd lately, Kendra thought as she tooled down Lindell. At times distant, then childlike, it seemed like Meg couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to revisit childhood or rush headlong into being an adult.
Kendra shook her head. Achieving full understanding of her sisters would happen about the same time Jesus came stepping down from one of those clouds.
Minutes later she pulled into Meg’s driveway, noting the various vans parked along the street and steeling herself for an onslaught of high-pitched kid laughter and yelling.
Joy, dressed in long white shorts, a chambray shirt, and light brown sandals, opened the door before Kendra got there. “You’re here!”
“I am. How’s the party?”
“Loud. Very, very loud. Are kids always this loud? Savannah and James aren’t this loud when they’re alone.”
Kendra chuckled. “The volume of kids increases in direct proportion to the number of children in the room.”
“You’re wrong. This isn’t a one-to-one ratio.”
“No, it’s ten to one. For every one kid you add, ratchet up the volume by ten decibels.”
“Now you might be on to something.”
Kendra followed Joy through to the kitchen where Tandy sat at the bar cutting slices from a roll of cookie dough. Bits of dough dotted her sleeveless sweater in haphazard fashion, and a smear of chocolate slashed down the side of her khaki shorts. Meg stood at the sink, her arms covered in bubbles from the elbow down. Dark wet spots dotted the front of her navy sleeveless shirt, and tiny fingerprints marked the edges of its long hemline.
“Can I help?” Kendra set down her present.
“Yes.” Meg’s frazzled voice sounded exhausted, but happy. Wisps of blonde hair, escaped from the makeshift ponytail at her nape, curled around her face. “Go check the den and make sure nobody’s bleeding or dismembered.”
“Got it. Be right back.”
Kendra turned on her heel and headed for the den. Ten toddlers were lined up on the sofa, enraptured by a green ogre on the television screen. Two others sat on the floor in front of the couch, each with a hand on a giant doll in the shape of said ogre.
Silently, so as not to disrupt their attention on the television, Kendra turned and went back to the kitchen.
“Twelve kiddos, present and whole,” she announced. “Next task?”
Meg looked up from the sink, blowing hair out her eyes. “Twelve?”
Kendra nodded. “Ten on the couch, two on the floor.”
“There are supposed to be fourteen.”
“Uh-oh.” At the frantic look on Meg’s face, Kendra went on. “Don’t panic. Just wash the dishes. I’ll go find the others.” She hurried back to the den. Ten kids still sat glued to the television. Two others on the floor. Kendra came into the room, and twelve little pairs of eyes turned to her. “Don’t mind me. Just on a kid hunt.” She walked around the couch and found two tow-headed little boys eating dirt from a potted fern.
“Guys, seriously, that’s disgusting.” They looked at her and giggled, revealing mud-spotted teeth. “Ugh. Gross.” That evoked more giggles. “To the bathroom with both of you before I find my Dirt-Eating Boy Time-Out Chair.”
That got them moving.
Five minutes and three dirty towels later, fourteen kids sat watching the movie, and Kendra returned in triumph to the kitchen. “Your fern’s
going to need a little replacement dirt, but all kids are present and accounted for.”
“Thank you,” Meg breathed, then collapsed onto a bar stool. “What was I thinking having fourteen three- and four-year-olds at my house at the same time?”
“That you love your daughter and wanted her to have a happy birthday?” Joy guessed.
“Yeah, that’s it. Keep reminding me of that.” Meg wiped her forehead.
“Where are their parents? Your front lawn looks like a Dodge Caravan convention.”
“They all piled into two vans and went bowling.”
“How rude!” Joy’s eyebrows formed an angry V.
“Not really. I told them to go, enjoy their Saturday kid-free.”
Joy’s face smoothed. “Oh, then I suppose we can’t blame them.”
“I suppose not.”
Kendra took a second look at Meg, noticing how pale her skin was and the lines of exhaustion around her eyes. “You okay, sis?”
“Fine as frog hair split three ways. Why?”
“You look tired.”
“There are fourteen toddlers in my living room. I think you should worry if I didn’t look tired.”
“This is more than tired. You look like a truck hit you. This morning. Twice.”
“Wow, don’t hold back on my account.”
Tandy stood and took the tray of cookies to the oven. “She’s right, Meg. You getting enough sleep?”
“Not really,” Meg admitted. “But show me a parent of three pre-K children who is getting enough sleep, and I’ll show you three neglected kids.”
“How about I take them off your hands for a day?” Tandy offered.
“Careful what you offer. Trust me, you don’t have time to watch three kids while planning a wedding.”
“The wedding plans are done. Dresses ordered. Flowers chosen. Music recorded. Decorations on the way. How about I come get them for church in the morning, and you and Jamison take the day for yourselves? I’ll bring ’em back Monday morning before I go to the SI office.”
“You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
Meg looked at Tandy for a second. “All right, but you bring them home when you realize you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. What are sisters for if not to meddle in each other’s lives and offer help when it’s needed?”
“Amen to that,” Joy said. “Speaking of meddling, Kendra, how are things with you and Darin?”
Kendra smiled. “They’re great.”
“Look at that smile!” Tandy shaded her eyes. “Looks like more than great to me.”
“Okay, it’s fabulous. Wonderful. We talk every night, and he tells me all about his day, and I tell him all about mine, and then we talk about things that matter, and he’s so intelligent and wise and … wonderful.”
“I think I’m getting a cavity,” Joy complained. “That was too sweet.”
“Hey, weren’t you the one reminding me of what a great guy Darin is just a few weeks ago?”
“That’s when I knew you were seeing someone else behind his back.”
Kendra shifted on her stool. “Yeah, well, that’s over and done with.” Because no way am I stirring up trouble by telling Harrison’s wife or telling Darin that Harrison is married.
“Good. I like Darin. And I like that smile he puts on your face.”
The corners of her mouth lifted, and Kendra gave in. “Me, too.”
“Who was the other guy?” Tandy cut more dough and arranged it onto another cookie tray.
“What?”
“You never told us. Was it the guy Joy saw outside the office?”
Kendra cast about. Would it matter if they knew? They’d never run into Harrison anyway. “Yes. He came down to Stars Hill to see me.”
“I knew it! I knew it!” Joy said.
“Came ‘down’ here? Where’s he from?” Tandy nudged a cookie to make room for another.
“Nashville.” Time to get out of this conversation. “Listen, let’s not talk about it. Like I said, it’s over and done with. Joy, how’s the baby-making coming?”
“Ugh,” Joy groaned. “I think I’m even getting sick of the trying now.”
Meg turned to her sister. “Joy!”
“Well, it’s the truth. I look at Scott, and all I want to do is scream, ‘We need to see a doctor!’ Not rip my clothes off and try to make a baby.”
“Please, I can’t see you ripping your clothes off ever,” Tandy said, and they burst out laughing.
“Still, it’s hard to want to do that when you’re constantly considering what day of the month it is, what time of day, whether you’re ovulating, whether this is the best position to cause fertilization.”
Tandy wrinkled her nose. “Sounds very clinical.”
“It is.”
“Why won’t he see a doctor?” Kendra said.
“I can’t figure it out. My best guess is that he’s never come against a problem he couldn’t reason out, and he’s still trying to reason this one.”
“But he’s not a doctor,” Kendra protested.
“That’s what I keep saying. But you try telling a man who has always figured out his own problems that he needs to ask for help, and see how far you get.”
“Why are relationships so hard?” Kendra asked.
Meg’s reply came instantly. “Because they involve people.”
“Amen, sister,” Joy said.
“And people,” Meg stood up and went to the oven, where she pulled out the finished tray of cookies and set it on a hot pad, “are uncontrollable forces that react in ways we can’t predict. So we’re left reacting all the time and trying to figure each other out.”
“Hmm.” Kendra leaned her elbows on the counter. “If it’s so hard, then why try at all?”
“That’s easy.” Tandy carried the other tray of dough to the oven and slid it in. “Because you love the person. You don’t walk away from what you love. You keep trying until the easy times come again.”
Kendra considered that. Already she and Darin had been through a hard time and were back on the easy side of things. They’d weathered a small storm and come out the other side intact. That felt good, knowing they could stick through the tough stuff.
Would he stick, though, if he knew she didn’t just date another man but another married man?
Good thing he didn’t ever have to know.
Nineteen
A bell rang in Kendra’s head, and she ran down the hall to find it. Joy came out of a room, yelling, “Where’s my baby?” and Kendra vaguely knew she was stuck in a dream.
She struggled to consciousness.
And heard the phone ring again.
“Hello?”
“Kendra? Did I wake you?” Darin’s deep voice brought her fully awake.
“Yeah. What time is it?”
“A little after nine.”
Kendra pushed herself into a sitting position, knocking Miss Kitty from her sleeping position. “Seriously?”
“Look at the clock.”
“I can’t believe I slept this late.”
“And here I hoped you’d be up and ready for the day so you could join me on my drive to Leiper’s Fork.”
“You’re going up to Leiper’s Fork?”
“Mm-hmm. Lorena has the final paperwork ready, and I’m going up there to sign it. Since you two hit it off so well, I thought you might want to come along.”
“I can be ready in twenty minutes.”
“See you in nineteen.”
She scrambled out of bed. Dashing to the bathroom, she sent a hopeful glance to the mirror. Reality dashed any hope of a quick makeup session. “Ugh. Girl, you’ve got to get some cover-up on this mug.”
Securing her shower cap, she turned the knob to get a warm water spray and stepped into the shower. Thank goodness she’d deep-conditioned her hair last night. Her spirals were under control. All sh
e needed to do was fluff them up a little, dab some concealer under her eyes, and swipe on some mascara.
Shoot, the laundry hadn’t been done. Anything decent and clean to wear? She turned off the water and quickly toweled off on the way to the closet.
“Please, please be clean …” She searched among the hangers for her long turquoise skirt. Her eye landed on the bright fabric. “Yes!” And she pulled the skirt and a pale yellow top with turquoise beads sewn around the collar from the closet.
“Perfect. Now where are my sandals that go with this?”
Her eyes scanned the floor as she knocked over piles of dirty clothes and pushed aside books and handbags. I’ve got to find time to clean this place up.
“Aha!” The tip of a pale yellow strap stitched in the same turquoise as her skirt peeked out from beneath her Bible. Yep, she’d worn these shoes to church last Sunday and then dumped them, and her Bible, here afterwards.
Pulling off her shower cap, she hurried back to the bathroom and applied her makeup faster than a Mario Andretti qualifying run.
“There.” She took a final appraisal in the mirror. “Good as it’s getting for now.”
She scurried back to the bedroom, threw on the skirt and shirt, and was buckling the final sandal on when Darin’s knock sounded at her door.
“Coming!”
She hopped down the hallway, buckling as she went and thanking heavens that her leg was almost completely healed now.
“Hi!” she said as she pulled open the door.
“Okay, that’s impressive.” Darin’s eye raked her up and down. “You were in bed,” he held his watch up, “seventeen minutes ago.”
“Call me Wonder Woman.”
“You are Wonder Woman. Ready to go?”
“I need to put some food out for Miss Kitty.”
Darin followed her into the kitchen and watched as she poured food and water into the cat’s dishes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this domestic.”
“Enjoy it.” Kendra straightened. “This is about as domestic as I get.” The bag of organic cat food crinkled as she rolled its top up. “Now I’m ready.”
“Let’s hit it.”