by Rebeca Seitz
“Bye, Kitty!” Kendra called as they left the apartment.
“How long have you had that cat?”
“Since the summer Momma died. Daddy got her for me so I’d have something to hold onto, something to love.”
“Which makes her, what, about ten years old?”
“Almost eleven, yeah.”
“How long do cats live?”
“They can stick around for almost twenty years. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
They walked out into the morning sunshine, and Kendra caught the sound of birds singing while she walked to the car. A good day lay before her—a long drive with Darin, catch-up conversation with Lorena, and a long drive back with Darin.
“What are you grinning about?” Darin asked.
“Oh, nothing. Looking forward to the day.”
The lines at Darin’s eyes deepened as he smiled back. “Me, too.”
He started the car and backed out of the driveway. “Let’s see, we haven’t talked in, what, ten hours? Tell me everything I’ve missed.”
“Well, I went to bed. Had more dreams of Joy searching for a baby, then you woke me up. Your turn.”
“Checked e-mail. Went to bed. Woke up. Fixed eggs. Called you. Day got better.”
“Gosh, we’re boring people.”
“Only when you take us in ten-hour chunks. Talk to us every three days, and we have great stories to share.”
“I’ll bet you have stories from way back that you haven’t shared yet. Tell me a story. Tell me how you met Clay.”
“It was a dark and stormy night …”
Kendra cuffed his arm. “Seriously. How did you two meet? You act like you’ve known each other forever, but you didn’t go to high school with us, so I know that’s not it.”
“Nope. I met him two years ago when the band was looking for a new lead man. He auditioned, he had the skills, so we voted him in. The rest is history.”
“Guys are so bad at sharing.”
“Hey, I’m trying here.”
“I know, but you left out the details! What did he play? Was there anybody else that you almost took instead? How did he go from bandmate to friend?”
“Oh, you want the Lifetime movie version.”
“Yes, please.” Kendra crossed her hands in her lap.
Darin shrugged. “Don’t really have a whole lot of drama for you. My marriage fell apart a couple of months after Clay started playing with us, and I was working on some songs to get the emotion of the moment onto paper. I needed a bass line, called him up, he came and hung out one night.” He shrugged again. “We clicked. He knew what it was like to get rejected, and we wrote some great stuff.”
“Who was he rejected by?”
“Uh, your sister?”
“You mean right after high school? She didn’t reject him. He rejected her.”
“Whatever. He saw it different, and it doesn’t matter now because they’re getting married.”
“But—”
“No buts. We are so not arguing about who left whom in that relationship.”
“Of course not, because we both know he left her.”
“Whatever.”
“So why haven’t I heard this great stuff you two wrote?”
“We haven’t ever played it in public.”
“Why?”
“Haven’t really had the right gig for it. It’s some dark stuff, not good material for a community bandstand type thing.”
Kendra waited until the silence brought Darin’s eyes to hers. “I’d like to hear it sometime.”
His reply was swift. “I’ll play it for you when we get home.”
She loved the sound of that. When we get home. Like they belonged in the same place at the end of the day. What would that be like? Going home to Darin after a long day.
Talking about life, about what happened while they were apart. Making healthy meals together, her painting after dinner and him working on his music.
She could see it all, laid out there for her, and it looked mighty inviting.
Reaching across the console, she took his hand. He looked over at her, a question in his eyes.
“What? I have to have a reason to hold my man’s hand? We hold hands all the time.”
“Yeah, but I’ve always been the one taking your hand.” He raised their joined hands to his lips and planted a soft kiss on hers.
“Really?” She thought about it and realized he was right. Every time they’d held hands, he had been the one to take hers first.
She squeezed his. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I love that you reached for me now.”
Settling into her seat, Kendra reflected on her dating history. The sisters had accused her of having a pattern, and while she doubted it was the one they’d accused her of, she had to admit she had a routine down.
Meet guy. Wait for guy to make move. Decide guy isn’t right. Act out until guy gets the hint and leaves.
My word. I’ve been doing that for over a decade. I need a new plan. She shook her head slightly. No, planning is what Tandy does. I need a new act.
The vision of her and Darin in his kitchen came to her again. That scene would be easy to play. She’d love every second of it for as long as he’d let her play the role. Because it wouldn’t really be a role. That could be her life. Her everyday, go-to-bed-with-it, get-up-with-it-in-the-morning, do-it-all-day life role.
He’d forgiven her for Harrison. He’d been there throughout the accident and her recovery. He listened to her stories, was patient with her tantrums. And he fit in with her family, at least the part of it she’d let him know so far.
Shoot, even Miss Kitty likes him.
It took five months, but for the first time Kendra looked at Darin and saw the complete picture that Joy, Meg, and Tandy saw. No wonder they were all over her to do this right.
Darin Spenser.
Kendra Spenser.
Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I just thought that. What am I, sixteen?
No, not a teenager. But definitely in love.
“You got quiet on me.” Darin glanced at her. “And when you get quiet, I worry.”
“Now why is that?”
“Because you’re not a person who thinks things through.”
“Ouch.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I mean, you’re a spontaneous, live-in-the-moment kind of woman. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Really? It doesn’t bother you that I’m flighty?”
“You’re not flighty. Who said you were flighty?”
“About four dozen people along the way.”
“Four dozen people are dummies, then. You’re not flighty. You’re artistic.”
“I’m goofy.”
“Quirky.”
“Undependable.”
“Spur of the moment, and I’m not going to keep feeding your ego. You’re a fabulous woman, and you know it.”
Kendra grinned and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Yeah, but it’s nice to hear every now and then.”
“I’ll say it every day if you want.”
“That works with my schedule.”
“You know, some people would think only an insecure woman would need so much reassuring.”
“They’d think that?”
“They might.”
Kendra took a deep breath. “They might be right.”
Darin shook his head. “Kendra, I meant what I said. You’re a fabulous woman, and I’m honored that you’re spending time with me.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“I’m a fabulous woman?” Clay mocked, and she silently thanked him for lightening the moment with humor.
“The best.”
“Dang straight.” He pulled off the interstate, and Kendra looked out the window as they drove once more past the luscious green countryside. Dilapidated barns stood sentinel behind rambling farmhouses with odd additions on the sides and tops. Families probably did exactly what Momma and
Daddy had done—just build onto the house wherever and whenever you can as the family expands.
In no time they pulled into a blacktop parking lot in front of a white-brick building that squatted low to the ground. Its black shutters and shingles gave the impression it wanted to be colonial but couldn’t quite shake off function for form.
Deep yellow and orange marigolds dotted the flower beds lining the sidewalk, their round color looking like miniature spots of sunshine. Behind them, mounds of white vinca piled up before giving way to rounded evergreen bushes.
“This is Lorena’s office?” All that order didn’t jive with Lorena’s tottering, bumbling personality.
“I know. Weird, isn’t it?”
Darin led them to a shiny black door complete with brass knocker and “212” etched on it. Ignoring the knocker, he twisted the knob and went in.
Kendra found herself in a lobby area that was as orderly as the flowers outside. Bold black and gold stripes lined the walls, broken by oil paintings that Kendra recognized as works by Campanile.
“Oh my word, Darin. Those are Campaniles.”
Darin spared the paintings a look as he moved down the hallway. “I take it that’s a good thing.”
“ What she dropped on one of those paintings would exceed my car payments and rent. For a year.”
Darin stopped and stared at one of the paintings. A bowl of fruit and a piece of cheese, with a small bit missing, were captured in paint. It took him a second, but Kendra caught the moment he saw the mouse standing behind the bowl of fruit. “I can’t believe I never noticed that. I like this!”
“For a measly six figures, it can be yours.”
He looked at her, at the painting, then resumed the trek down the hallway. “I don’t like it that much.”
At the end of the corridor, he turned right, and Kendra walked into a miniature of the grand lobby in front. The same bold wallpaper lined these walls, and antique white furniture had been arranged into an intimate seating area. A young guy sat stiffly behind his mahogany desk, pencil in one hand and sudoku book lying in front. At the sight of visitors, he stuffed the sudoku in the top drawer and stood up.
“Hello. You must be Mr. Spenser. Lorena is expecting you. Come on back.” He led them down a short hallway and, with a light knock, opened a door.
Lorena stood from behind a larger version of the kid’s desk. “Darin, good to see you. And Kendra! I’m so glad you could come.”
Kendra crossed pale blue carpet—her feet sank at least two inches into the pile—to meet Lorena at the corner of her desk for a hug. “Hey, girl. How are you?”
“Oh, better than some, worse than others. Have a seat. Do either of you need anything to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” Kendra took one of the two chairs upholstered in stripes of blue and gold. Small throw pillows with horses embroidered in the center and matching blue fringe around the edge sat in each chair as well.
“I’m all right, thanks.” Darin sat in the chair beside Kendra, and Lorena resumed her place behind the desk.
“Well, tell me how you two have been. Kendra, it’s been too long since we talked. How’s your sister?”
“She’s good.”
“Wedding plans coming along?”
“She tells us it’s done, but we’ll see how many things she changes between now and the wedding.”
“It’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”
“A little over three weeks, yes.”
“How exciting!” Lorena clapped her doughy hands together. “I just love weddings.”
“Me, too.” Wait, what? She saw Darin’s look of surprise. “I mean, I love that Tandy’s having a wedding. It’s great that she’s marrying Clay, the man she loves, you know.” She stumbled to a halt. Good grief, get hold of your tongue, Kendra.
Lorena watched them both for a second, her eyes sparkling. “Yes, I know precisely what you mean. Well, then, I guess we should get to this paperwork so that the two of you can enjoy the rest of the day up here in our beautiful part of the world, hmm?”
She swiveled around and reached for a manila envelope lying on the credenza behind her, and that’s when Kendra’s world came crashing down on her shoulders.
No, it couldn’t be.
Even her luck wasn’t this bad.
But there, in a bright red frame on the second tier of the shelf behind the credenza, smiling at her like the whole universe kept right on humming, was Harrison Hawkings.
Twenty
Kendra, are you all right?” Worry creased Darin’s forehead.
“Um, I’m fine,” she lied.
“I don’t think so. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Darin eyes followed her stare to the picture on Lorena’s shelf. “What’s wrong?”
Lorena looked to the shelf and back to Kendra. “Kendra? What is it?”
She blinked, but the image of Harrison still smiled at her, oblivious. Made sense. Harrison and oblivious went together like winter and ice.
She would make sense of this later. For now she turned to Darin, smiling a false but reassuring smile. “I’m fine, really. Just remembered something I needed to do later.”
“Lorena, could you give us a minute?”
“Certainly.” Lorena bustled out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Darin leaned in to Kendra. “Okay, spill it. What’s going on?”
Uh-uh. No way in the world would she tell him she’d spent time with a married man. Kissed a married man.
Even Sylvia’s daughter shouldn’t inflict that much emotional damage in one sitting.
“Kendra.” He read her like a book, voice full of empathy. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
She shook her head. “Not this.”
“Yes, this. Anything.”
Tears pricked her eyelids. So close. She’d come so close to having her act together. Sisters, Ink was humming along; Tandy’s painting stood in near completion in the studio; her leg rarely even twinged these days.
And now, with one picture, she stood to lose the biggest part of what made her happy. What she had just been dreaming about having for the rest of her days.
“Seriously, Darin. Let it go.”
“I won’t. You’re in pain. It’s written all over your face. Tell me.”
He wouldn’t stop. She knew that, sure as she knew he’d walk out of her life the second she told him the breadth of her betrayal.
And he’d be right to leave.
Right—but oh, so wrong.
Her chest hurt, constricted with the reality of her own behavior. Of the consequences she now knew she couldn’t escape. How had she rationalized this just a few weeks ago? Sitting with a married man in a dark car, opening her heart and letting him open his. How had that been okay? Acceptable? Desired, even?
“The Bible says that satan plots against us.”
Jerry’s words echoed through her mind. Plotting. It had started with an innocent performance of a song.
But she’d let herself fall. A little bit more every day. She could see that now. Could see how, step-by-step, her worldview had shifted from a believer appalled at the lack of commitment in American marriages to contributor of a marriage’s demise.
What a cruel joke. She balled her fists, felt her fingernails digging into the flesh there. Of all the men in all the world, Harrison Hawkings was Lorena’s husband.
Sweet, bumbling, naïve Lorena who went to bed every night wondering if her husband was caught in an affair.
Kendra had the answer.
And she’d never wished more in her life for blissful ignorance.
“Kendra, you’ve got to tell me. I can help. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.” Darin reached out and touched her knee, and the kindness in that simple gesture crumbled her remaining composure.
Tears poured down her cheeks. She blinked, tried to brush them away, but they came faster than she could brush them off.
“Oh, honey.” Darin came out of his chair, knelt before her, took her hands
—cold, so cold—and warmed them with his own. “Talk to me.”
Her head hung, and she shook it. There would be, could be, no talking of this. Even for her, a child of an immoral woman who had been so desperate for love she’d allowed a parade of men through her own home, her own child’s bedroom—even for that child this sank too low. Kendra gasped, sobs wracking her body now as she pictured Daddy’s face when he found out.
Because somehow he’d find out. Everybody would. The whole town would talk about it. Daddy, Tandy, Meg, Joy, Jamison, Scott, her nieces and nephews—they’d all be shamed. Not for anything they’d done but solely because of their association with her.
And Darin. Sweet, Darin.
Oh, Darin.
She heard his murmurings now, let the sound penetrate through the haze of disappointed incredulity that twisted itself around her like coils of barbed wire.
“Jesus, I don’t know what’s happening, but I know Kendra’s hurting.”
He was praying for her.
Oh, God! Her soul cried out, having no words, no hope other than to cry what it knew. What every soul ever created knew to cry when nothing else could be done.
“Comfort her, God. Sustain her. Let her know Your love.”
God’s love? That couldn’t happen, not for girls like her.
For betrayers.
For liars.
For adulterers. Might as well admit it. Doesn’t the Bible say it’s as sinful to think it as to commit it? And you thought it. You know you did. So did he. He told you he did. And you did nothing to discourage him. You ate it up. Loved every second of his adoration. Didn’t care about his wife sitting at home. Didn’t care, really, about him. Because, if you’d cared, you would have sent him home. You would have done what was good for him. Not for you.
Selfishness battled with acceptance. What her mind rejected, her soul embraced.
Being with Harrison—talking, sharing, laughing, caring, investing, being—had always been more about her than him. About feeling smart. Chosen. Enjoyed.
All the things Sylvia never made her feel.
Was she that dumb? To have spent her entire adult life choosing men based on who could give her what Sylvia had not?
“Show her truth, God. Love her.” Darin’s intercession on her behalf continued.
Oh, Momma. Daddy and Momma, with their unconditional love. They’d tried to fill the hole carved by eight years of loneliness. But human beings can’t heal other human beings. They can only introduce each other to the Healer.