by Rebeca Seitz
Hot, jagged tears poured down her face, and Kendra sobbed. “Darin’s here.”
Tandy caught her arms and held her up. “I know. Clay talked him into coming. What’s wrong?”
“He’s here,” she gasped, her heart breaking on the words, “with someone else.”
“What?” Tandy looked over her shoulder at Clay. “Who is he with, Clay? You didn’t tell me anything about him bringing someone.”
“And you didn’t tell me Kendra would be here.”
“Clay Kelner! You knew about this?” Outrage flooded Tandy’s voice.
Kendra swiped at her nose, sniffing and trying to make sense of things.
“Yeah, I knew. I told him it’d be a good idea.”
Kendra rounded on Clay. “You what? What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Cheating on my best friend with a married man?”
Kendra advanced on him and, before she could stop herself, slapped him across the face.
“Kendra!” Tandy rushed to Clay’s side.
“What? You’re going to tell me you’re on his side in this? Darin’s in there with another woman right now.” She shook her head. “Because your idiot fiancé doesn’t approve of me.”
“Kendra, that’s not what—”
“And why would I approve of you?” Clay butted in. “You cheated on him with a married man!”
Kendra goaded him. “But that’s not all, is it? Go ahead, admit the rest. You don’t think I’m good enough for him.”
Clay’s angry look turned to one of confusion. “What?”
Kendra ignored him. “You think he can do better than a girl who grew up with men coming into her room every night, right? You want him with a good girl. One with no past and no regrets and no ability to hurt him, right?”
Clay had lost all anger now and was looking to Tandy for help. “No, I don’t think that. What are you talking about?”
But Kendra was on a roll. “You hope that redhead is a perfect little virgin raised by the perfect little parents in the perfect white house with the perfect white fence. You want him with her.” Kendra’s voice broke on the word, and she moaned, a terrible, animal sound that scared her into silence.
She turned and stumbled toward her car, desperate to get out of there as fast as she could. Back to her clean apartment that reminded her how she’d escaped all that. How she didn’t have to be that now.
She fumbled with her seat belt, missing the hole the first two times and biting back a swear. Don’t resort to Sylvia’s language. You are not Sylvia. You are Kendra Sinclair, and you’ve been cleaned and redeemed.
The passenger door opened, and Tandy hopped into the passenger seat.
“Don’t you need to go be with your sweetie?”
“I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I’m with you.” Tandy buckled her seat belt in one smooth action. “Drive or hand me the keys.”
Kendra blinked, then rammed her own buckle home. “Fine.”
She revved the engine, then spun gravel out of the parking lot.
Twenty-Four
Look, I know you’re mad, but would you please find somewhere and park? I’d rather not end up dead on the side of a dark country road.”
Kendra swerved the RAV4 into a small ditch, throwing herself and Tandy against their seat belts, and killed the motor. “Better?”
Tandy unbuckled herself and turned in her seat. “Much. Now tell me what that was back there?”
“That was your fiancé being a complete moron.”
“Yeah, yeah, skip to the part where you think you’re not good enough for Darin.”
“I don’t think that. Clay does.” Kendra hit the steering wheel. “The moron.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Tandy held up her hand. “No, he doesn’t. He’s mad that you hurt his best friend, and he’s not ready to let you off the hook yet. But he does not hold your childhood against you.”
“Why does he get a say in when I get off the hook? Who is he? Master of the universe?”
“No, he’s Darin’s best friend, and you’d do the same for me, so quit dodging the question.”
Kendra rested her head on the steering wheel, the fight draining out of her as fast as it had come. “I don’t think that. I used to think it, but I know it’s dumb and not true. But knowing that and feeling like somebody else is thinking it are two different things.”
“Why are you so mad at Clay?”
“Tandy,” Kendra twisted her head to look at her sister, “he told Darin to date other women. You think I’m going to thank him for that?”
“Okay, you’re right. That was stupid on his part, and don’t think he’s going to escape my wrath over it.”
“Good. Nice to know you’ve still got my back.”
“I do in this instance. But, Ken, it’s going to get hard from here on in when you two disagree. When I’m his wife, I’m going to have to go home with him even when he does dumb things that hurt you.”
“Sounds messed up to me.”
“I didn’t say I’d go home and be all sunshine and roses about it.” Tandy grinned, and Kendra sat back in her seat. “It’s just … hard. You and I, we’ve always had each other’s backs, no matter who it was. Daddy, Meg, Joy, anybody. And I’m scared about how that’s going to change once I’m Clay’s wife.”
“Tandy, I don’t care if you’re married with a dozen kids. I will always be your sister.”
“And I’ll always be yours, but when you and Clay go at it like this, I don’t want you to hate me when I go home with him.”
Kendra sighed and stared out the windshield at the dark sky. Stars scattered across it, tiny pinpricks of light. “This adult stuff stinks sometimes.”
“Yeah, it does.” Tandy leaned toward Kendra, resting her elbows on the console. “But being in love beats jump rope and curfews any day.”
Kendra laughed. “I guess you’re right about that.”
“So we’re okay?”
“Yeah, we’re okay.”
“Good, now let’s figure this Darin thing out.”
The laughter died in Kendra’s throat. “I don’t think there’s anything left to figure out, Tandy. He’s with somebody else. Let it go.”
“Let it go? Are you kidding me? Not on your life. He’s with that woman because my dumb fiancé told him it was a good idea. That’s easily fixed.”
“I don’t think so. I can’t imagine even looking at any man other than Darin. If he can go so far as to take another woman out …” Kendra hung her head. “I can’t take it. I can’t fight that.”
“Kendra Sinclair! What’s wrong with you? I’ve never known you to back down from a fight.”
“I don’t when the hill is worth dying on, Tandy.”
“And Darin’s not worth it? I thought you loved him. I thought you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.”
Kendra gazed back out at the stars. “When I was seeing Harrison, I knew Darin wouldn’t like it if he found out. But I also knew we hadn’t explicitly said we weren’t seeing other people. I know that’s a technicality, and I shouldn’t have been with Harrison anyway because he was married, but still. Me seeing Harrison is a completely different thing from me throwing a man in Darin’s face just to prove I could.”
“And you think that’s what he was doing tonight?”
“You told Clay I was going to Heartland?”
“No, I just assumed he knew.”
“He knew.” Kendra nodded, eyes still on the sky. “He knew, and even if he didn’t, Darin did. We’ve gone to Heartland every Friday night for, what, nearly six months? He knew I’d be there, and he wanted me to see him with her. That’s cruel, Tandy.” She turned and met Tandy’s eyes. “It’s purposefully mean. He brought that woman into my hometown and tossed her in my face like a shot glass of cheap whiskey. That’s not a man I’m going to spend my life with. I can’t.” Kendra gripped the steering wheel.
“Kendra, don’t give it all up because of one stupid
thing he did.”
“That wasn’t just stupid, though, T. That was cruel.”
“You’re right.” They sat in silence, listening to the cricket song outside.
Kendra sniffed and cranked the engine. “Guess I better get you back to your fiancé.”
“I’m sure he’s fine. You need some company tonight?”
Kendra thought about going home to her white walls and white couch. Right now it seemed like the perfect amount of quiet. “No, I’ll be okay.”
Tandy gazed at her a moment longer, and Kendra let her expression confirm her words. The peace of a stark room without color or complication beckoned her.
“All right.” Tandy sighed and gazed up at the stars. “But promise me if you need to talk, you’ll call.”
“I always do, sis.”
* * *
THE NEXT WEEK flew by in a flurry of wedding plans, and Kendra threw herself into her role as maid of honor.
Never had she talked with so many cake decorators, florists, and musicians in her life. But talking with people prevented her from thinking about whom she wouldn’t talk to anymore, so that was all right.
She scanned the wedding checklist and marked off “Confirm floral arrangements.” Only a few more boxes to check, and this wedding would be planned, confirmed, and reconfirmed.
Looking out the window over the breakfast table, she saw Corinne Stewart out for her morning stroll and waved at the sweet lady. Corinne’s hair nearly glowed in the early sunshine, her pink track suit looking like cotton candy.
Kendra sighed, turning away from the happy image of Corinne. Her own walk/jog that morning was riddled with indecision about Darin. She pushed up from the chair and hit Play on the answering machine like she’d done fifty times last night.
“Kendra, hi, it’s Darin.” The message hummed along as she sat there. “I need to talk to you about, um, everything. Call me back, please.”
The machine clicked and shut off.
“Everything? Including that redheaded vixen you were conniving with at Heartland?” She whirled away from the answering machine and went back to the breakfast table. “I don’t think so, mister.”
Her apartment had a little color in it now, at least. Two paintings from what she now called her “Dark Period” hung in the hallway, their pulsing reds reminding her of the night she’d painted them after dancing with Darin at Joe’s.
Joe’s. That’s what she needed! Joe would let her come sing. Kendra hurried back to the phone and snatched it up, then headed for her computer. Anywho.com gave her the number and she dialed, hoping someone would pick up the phone this early at the jazz club.
“Joe’s Jazz.”
“Hi, Cassandra. It’s Kendra Sinclair.”
“Oh, hey, Kendra! How are you?”
“I’m good. Listen, I was wondering if you might be in need of a singer tonight.”
“As a matter of fact, we are. That’s why I’m in here working the phones this early. We got a cancellation last night, and I’m trying to fill it. Why? Are you offering?”
“I am.”
“Then I’m going to buy a lottery ticket because this is definitely my lucky day.”
Kendra smiled. “Do you need a song list from me beforehand?”
“Oh, just bring one with you and be here about an hour before opening. I’ll make sure Joe’s down here to run through some stuff with you. You’re cool with off-the-cuff?”
“I’m best at off-the-cuff.”
“Great. Then we’ll see you tonight at five.”
“Thanks, Cassandra.”
“No, thank you.”
Kendra hung up. Scrapbooking with the sisters hadn’t helped; and when she’d tried to pour this onto a canvas, her brush had stayed frustratingly still. Maybe three hours at a microphone in a moody jazz club could help her let go of the sadness.
* * *
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking? Singing in Nashville to a roomful of strangers was one thing. But Joe’s? Where she knew everybody? Where they knew her? As Darin’s girl? What had she been thinking?
She squared her shoulders before the mirror. “You were thinking that you’re going to go insane if you don’t work through this. You were thinking that it’s time to let it go and get out of this rut. You were thinking,” she turned and checked out her dress from the back, “that this dress doesn’t belong in the back of your closet.”
The purple dress from Sarah’s clung to her frame in all the right places. It hugged her hips, a bit less now since she hadn’t had an appetite the past couple of weeks, and draped gently over her legs. The surplice top did its job of pulling the eye past her waistline and up to her face.
Best of all, she felt like a pretty woman in this dress. And that had made the price tag easier to swallow.
She slid her feet into sling-backs and walked out the door to Joe’s, determined to rid herself of this emotion in the next five hours in the only way she knew possible—slow jazz.
The sun beat down on her as she left the RAV4 and walked to the door of Joe’s. Thank goodness it’d be down in an hour or so. Hard to feel bluesy with trickles of sweat snaking their way down your neck.
She opened the door and escaped into the air-conditioned ambience. Cassandra came from behind her maitre d’ stand.
“Kendra.” She held out her hands, and Kendra took them. “Thanks again for doing this. You’ve saved the evening.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You might want to wait until the end of the night to make that kind of judgment call.”
“Nonsense.” Cassandra walked with her through the lobby and to the piano on the club stage. “You’re always wonderful.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you bring your song sheet?”
Kendra handed it over, and Cassandra gestured to the microphone. “All right. I’ll get Joe.”
Kendra couldn’t help but remember the last time she’d been here. With Darin.
And Lorena.
She pushed the thought from her mind, then reconsidered and welcomed the rush of emotion into her being. She’d need that kind of melancholy for tonight. It’s what she’d come to exorcise anyway.
“Hi, doll,” Joe said, and Kendra startled at Harrison’s pet name for her. “You ready to knock ’em dead tonight?”
“I’ll do my best,” she returned and went to stand behind the microphone.
Joe played the opening notes of “Lovin’ Arms,” and Kendra took a breath.
“If you could see me now, the one who said that she’d rather roam.”
Kendra closed her eyes and let herself feel the words while she sang them from her soul.
“Just for a while, turn back the hands of time.”
Darin’s face, haggard and lost as he stood by his door, filled her mind.
“Looking back and longin’ for the freedom of my chains.”
Kendra poured herself into the song, knowing the desperation of the woman behind it. Hating the hurt even while she embraced it. Despising the pain between her and Darin. Abhorring her part in causing it.
She let the final “I can almost feel your loving arms again” fade into the silence and opened her eyes.
“Problems with Darin?”
Joe’s knowing look rested on her, and she didn’t try to deny it.
“Yeah.”
Joe nodded and hit the opener to Kendra’s next song.
Kendra closed her eyes again and gave into it, desperate to feel this fully so she could let it go.
Song after song, Joe played on and Kendra sang. She went through “Fool That I Am” and “All I Could Do Was Cry.” She sampled some Patsy Cline, wondering aloud how she could have been so “Crazy” and not caring who heard her. Oblivious, really, to the people who filled the room. Hour after hour, the tears coated her throat with an emotion only fit for the blues and slow jazz.
She swayed to the soft music, holding the microphone, letting it anchor her to the here and now while her mind traveled back over the past six months w
ith Darin. She remembered that first night on a blind date with Tandy and Clay when they had come to Joe’s.
Her voice broke on “Stormy weather, since my man and I ain’t together.”
And still she sang on.
She felt his lips during that first kiss. Heard him whisper her name while they stood at her door.
And still she sang.
Watched him again while he supported Clay the day Tandy left for Orlando. Saw him laugh. Followed the line of his arm to his hand carelessly thrown over the steering wheel.
And still she sang.
Recalled the way his colorful shirts stretched cross his broad chest and the line of his neck when he bent to hear her.
How he held her hand when they prayed.
How his fingers moved on his guitar.
And still she sang.
The way he helped her after the accident, patiently by her side, up and down her steps.
The slump of his shoulders against the wall at Heartland.
Joe changed songs, and Kendra breathed into the microphone, “I’ve got your picture that you gave to me.” She sang about a man who left her with letters and pictures but belonged to another woman, and it was all she could do to finish the song. To acknowledge aloud Darin’s other woman.
She turned to Joe when the notes had died away, her throat raw, her eyes burning from unshed tears, and nodded for him to start the last song.
She didn’t look at the crowd. Neither needed nor wanted to know who was there. These songs were her life. They were her. They were what she was left with after the wreckage of Darin.
And this one, well, it would always be with her.
“Sitting home alone, thinkin’ about my past. Wonderin’ how I made it, and how long it’s gonna last.”
She let herself hope with the old lyrics for a man who would care for her. Not because she needed a keeper or a parent, but because she chose to be cared for. Because she needed someone she could care for and who would care for her.
“Some folks think you’re happy when you wear your smile. What about your tribulations and all of your trials?”
She opened her eyes and looked out at the crowd. They watched her, the women’s faces naked with like emotion.