by Liz Isaacson
Now he found he couldn’t look away. His heart felt like that. A jiggly, jumbly mess of jello.
“Where’s Spotlight? Weren’t you workin’ him this month?”
“I like Payday best.” Dwayne leaned forward and patted the horse. “He’s my new favorite.”
Kurt kept Minnie moving, slowly putting more distance between him and the other men. Between him and town. Between him and May.
“So you’re not goin’ in to see May today.”
Kurt grunted, the only vocalization he was capable of. He tugged down the brim of his white cowboy hat, wishing Dwayne could take a hint. The man knew Kurt didn’t want to talk. He just didn’t care, as evidenced by him asking, “Why not?”
Kurt didn’t want to beat around the bush. Didn’t play games. “I broke up with her.”
Dwayne made a sound halfway between a gasp and a leaky tire. “You did? Why?”
“Because I was wrong,” he said. “I do care that I’m second to Sotheby’s.” And even further down the line when he thought about who she’d chosen to hug at the party. By his count, he wasn’t even as high as fifth on May’s list.
The horses made the only sound except for the breeze that threatened to steal Kurt’s hat.
“I don’t need my job back,” he finally said. “If that’s what you’re worried about. I know you took some of my salary and increased Shane’s, and that’s fine.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
Kurt pressed his lips together and nodded. The way Dwayne wouldn’t say anything made him anxious and jittery when he just wanted to ride his horse. “I’m not going to use TexasFaithful anymore either,” he said. “That website has brought me nothing but trouble since I joined it last summer.”
First Alicia and now May. Kurt wondered how he’d ever go into town again. Simple, he told himself. Don’t get hurt and don’t eat out. If he could stick to that rule, he wouldn’t have to run into Alicia or May again.
“Whatever you want to do,” Dwayne said.
Several more minutes passed, and Kurt finally released all his tension into the sky. He’d ridden with Dwayne lots of times, and they didn’t always talk. This was just another one of those times.
“Well, I’m gonna head back.” Dwayne pranced Payday in front of Kurt’s horse and faced him. “Don’t stay out here too long,” he said. “I don’t want to have to come searching for you in the dark.”
“I won’t,” Kurt promised. He couldn’t believe Dwayne wasn’t going to give him a single shred of advice.
“I’m here if you want to talk,” Dwayne said. “I know what you’re feeling. Felicity broke up with me too, remember?”
Kurt did remember, and he was tired of being alone, and dealing with everything on his own. “I hate that I got so wrapped up in her that I forgot about all my friends out here,” he said, his voice dropping a little with the emotion he carried in it.
“You didn’t forget about us.” Dwayne turned his horse and started back toward the homestead. “Come to dinner at the homestead tonight. Felicity would like it.”
Kurt swung Minnie around too, suddenly not wanting to be by himself out on the range. “All right. I can bring something.”
“Just yourself.” Dwayne gave him a smile. “So things just got too intense with May?”
“Intense, yeah. That’s one way to put it.”
“What’s another way?”
“She….” Kurt sighed. “She loves that restaurant, and I don’t want to be the one standing in the way of that. And I was. She worked so much, and I thought I was okay with it. I thought I could sit in the corner booth, or the office, or wait for her at her house until she had time for me. And that worked, for a while.” Kurt swiped off his hat and wiped his forehead.
“But at the retirement party, I realized how isolated I’d become. And how marginalized I felt by May. She only wants me on her terms, when she has time, and honestly? I think I deserve better than that.”
Dwayne nodded. “Sounds like it.”
Kurt sighed, his brief flash of anger fading into darkness. “I sure do miss her.” And that was saying something, as he hadn’t seen her for a day and a half, and he’d gone weeks without seeing her before. But she’d always been a text or a chat away. He’d known that the next time he saw her, he’d get to kiss her, breathe in the floral scent of her hair, and hear her voice as she told him about something that had happened at the restaurant.
“And you will for a long time,” Dwayne said.
“I’m in love with her,” Kurt admitted. “She’s wearing my grandmother’s diamond ring around her neck. We were going to be married in December. I was going to move over to her place.”
Dwayne swung his head toward Kurt. “Really?”
“I hadn’t talked to you about it yet, but yeah.”
“Seems like there was definitely something strong there then,” Dwayne said.
“There was.”
“Then what changed?”
Kurt opened his mouth to answer and found he didn’t know what had changed. Then he did. “I changed,” he said. He stared at the horizon as understanding washed through him. “I changed.”
And he hadn’t liked who he’d become, just like he hadn’t when he’d been married to Kara. She’d changed him without him knowing about it too, and sometimes he still felt a bit lost about that. May had done the same thing, but in a different way. She wanted him to be places he couldn’t be, do things he didn’t normally do. She’d taken him from his ranch, his job, his friends, and he’d let her.
He shook his head, his fury for himself now. Thankfully, Dwayne didn’t say anything else, and they took care of their horses and went over to the homestead to find Feliciy shouldering her purse. “Who wants pizza?” she asked, and Dwayne smiled.
“I love pizza.” He swept one arm around his wife and kissed her while she giggled. Kurt watched them, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. No, they hadn’t had an easy road, but they’d persevered through their troubles, their heartaches. Maybe he could do the same with May.
“Kurt? Pizza?” Dwayne asked.
“As long as it’s not Sotheby’s,” Kurt said. “I’m in.” So maybe he wasn’t quite ready to jump on the get-through-hard-times bandwagon quite yet. He did notice Felicity and Dwayne’s exchanged glance, but he didn’t care. It felt good to be with people he liked, doing something normal that he would’ve done before he’d started rushing off to sit at May’s feet like a dog, and a little piece of Kurt that he hadn’t thought about for a while returned.
A good piece of him. A piece that, if May couldn’t accept who he was, well, that was her loss.
Too bad Kurt’s whole life felt like a shell of what it could be, if only he had May at his side. But he went along for the ride, and he ordered extra cheese on his sausage and black olive pizza, and he laughed with his friends.
That night, he knelt beside his bed and thanked the Lord of a good day, filled with good work and good friends. He paused, his thoughts scattering. “And please help May Sotheby,” he said. He wasn’t sure exactly what she’d need help with, but he’d suffered through the ending of a marriage, and he knew that breaking up was a difficult and painful process. May had to be in turmoil, and Kurt didn’t like even thinking about that.
“And if it be Thy will,” he added. “Help us find our way back to each other.” He didn’t want the same relationship he’d had with May, but he wanted her in his life. Somehow.
“Help me….” he trailed off, unsure how to finish. It seemed impossible that he’d be able to repair his relationship with May. She hadn’t been willing to compromise on her schedule all this time, and he couldn’t expect her to change for him. He didn’t want to be the one that took that all-important piece of her life from her.
He wouldn’t be the man that did that to her.
So as he climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to this chest, he let the agony wash over him for one, two, three heartbeats. Agony that he’d found a second ch
ance at love, and it was simply too hard to maintain. Agony that the woman he loved didn’t have time for him. Agony that God had given them both this chance, and they’d taken a wrong turn somewhere.
His phone blitzed out a sound, and Kurt’s heart jumped. That was the sound of a chat from TexasFaithful, and the only reason it would’ve gone off was if it was May. After all, he’d set his status to “in a relationship” and the only notifications he got through the app were from her.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to look at it,” he whispered into the darkness. His eyes stayed open, staring straight up at the ceiling.
Exhaustion overcame him, and he resolved to look at the message in the morning while he completed his coffee ritual on the front porch. With that decision firmly in his mind, he was able to drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A week later, May made it through the day without crying. It was the first time in seven days she’d been able to do that, and she gave all the credit to her insane schedule. So getting up at five AM and working until eleven o’clock that night did have some benefits. None her feet could understand as she rubbed the lines from the edge of her heels out of her skin.
But whatever. She’d been rolling her mother’s words around in her head every time she had more than two seconds to think, and she still hadn’t come to much of a conclusion. She’d tried to envision Kurt at the restaurant, wearing a pair of slacks and walking around the dining room, asking guests how their steak was cooked and if they needed anything.
She couldn’t do it. She’d never seen him wear anything but cowboy boots, and he only took off that giant white hat to kiss her. And Sotheby’s didn’t have the wrangler atmosphere. Most of the men who came into the restaurant wore ties and polished shoes, not plaid shirts and boots.
To be fair, she’d only seen Kurt wear plaid once. A blue and white plaid shirt that made his eyes deeper than they normally were.
May pushed the thoughts of him from her mind. She’d wanted to chat him, text him, jump in her car and bump down that dirt road to his cabin. But she hadn’t. Nothing she said would change anything. If she wanted to truly change the situation, drastic measures would have to be taken. And May wasn’t sure she had the inner strength to do what needed to be done.
She changed into her pajamas and stalled at her dresser, fingering the diamond ring she’d been wearing all week. She’d tried to leave it home on Thursday, but she hadn’t been able to so much as back out of the garage without the silver chain around her neck. She’d nearly broken an ankle in her haste to run back in—wearing heels—and put it on.
The weight of it soothed her, and she simply couldn’t be without the ring.
She wasn’t sure how she’d survived this past week without Kurt.
And she kept rolling around the idea of living without the restaurant. Because the fact remained that her parents wanted her to be married to take over the Sotheby empire. While her dad had already given her the keys to the restaurant, and he hadn’t stepped foot inside it since the retirement party, May knew on a gut-level that they expected her to find a husband by the end of the year.
After all, that was the agreement.
And now that she’d lost Kurt…. Her eyes wandered to her phone, and she couldn’t even entertain the thought of going back to “single and ready to mingle” on TexasFaithful.com. Tears pricked her eyes, and she pushed them away too.
She would not cry today. Not gonna happen.
Instead, she turned on the TV and climbed into bed. She’d never been one to sleep with sound and light blaring in her face, but since Kurt’s sudden departure from her life, she needed the noise to keep her thoughts quiet.
And she’d learned how to fall asleep while in emotional turmoil. Another benefit, she thought as she drifted to sleep.
Another week passed, and then two, and May still hadn’t done anything about her dating situation. Her parents had purchased an RV and a very large truck and they’d left Grape Seed Falls nine days ago with the promise that they’d be back for Thanksgiving dinner at the restaurant.
May drifted through her life, eating when her stomach demanded she do so, and doing what her father had always taught her. Focus on what’s in front of you.
And Kurt never appeared in front of her. May forgot the sound of his voice, and the shape of his hand as it filled hers. When she realized that, she sobbed into her pillow and begged God to provide a release from the agony of her heart.
Baking usually helped, and one day early in September, three AM found May in her kitchen, flour dusting her pajamas and the scent of apple cobbler rising from the oven. She could barely stomach more than a bite or two of her creations, and Ally always knew when May had endured a particularly rough night.
When May got to work the next morning, she boxed up the leftover apple cobbler and presented it to her friend.
“I’m not taking that.” Ally stared at the box and then lifted her eyes to May.
“Why not? It’s apple cobbler. You love apple cobbler.”
Ally’s eyes broadcast her worry, and she shook her head. “I’ve gained ten pounds since you broke up with Kurt.”
“He broke up with me.”
Ally sighed and pushed the box back toward May. “May, this isn’t healthy. When are you going to go make up with him?”
May blinked. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He….” She paused, unwilling and completely unable to put the blame on him. “I don’t deserve him.” She gestured to the quiet, empty restaurant. She loved it most when they were closed, in the early morning hours before anyone else came in. She loved it when everything was cleaned up after another successful day. She loved it when she could bake in the air-conditioned kitchen without rules or recipes.
“This is what I deserve. This is what I’ve worked my whole life for.” May gazed around the restaurant, with it’s rich décor and high-end finishes.
“You aren’t going to have this for much longer,” Ally said. “If you don’t do something to get Kurt back.”
May blinked as shock traveled through her. Intellectually, she knew she couldn’t keep Sotheby’s when she didn’t have Kurt. But she’d never heard someone else say it so blatantly.
She desperately wanted the restaurant.
But she couldn’t have Kurt if she kept Sotheby’s.
And she couldn’t have Sotheby’s without Kurt.
She felt like she was on a game show, with two impossible choices. Hidden behind door number one, we have Kurt Pemberton! The sexiest man you’ve ever met, who’s sweet and kind and faithful too. He’s killer-good in the kitchen, and he makes you laugh whenever you’re sad. He makes a great cup of coffee, and when he holds your hand, you feel complete.
May drew in a sharp breath. How could she let him go?
Behind door number two, we have Sotheby’s Family Restaurant. The establishment’s been in the family for four generations—Hyrum Sotheby was one of the original settlers in Grape Seed Falls! They’re known for their excellent steaks, delicious chicken fried steak, and the new owner has her culinary genius developing a line of pot pies that will blow your mind. Oh, and it makes plenty of money, and you love working in the kitchen, with a staff that feels like family.
May exhaled, her chest about to cave in on itself. How could she walk out of this restaurant and never come back?
She became vaguely aware that Ally was saying her name. May couldn’t focus. All she could hear was What’ll it be, May? Door number one? Or door number two?
What’ll it be, May?
Choose, May, choose.
She couldn’t choose. That was why she’d done nothing for over a month now. Hadn’t started dating again. Hadn’t called Kurt. Hadn’t moved on a new menu at Sotheby’s. Hadn’t given any more responsibility to Juan Carlos. She had simply done nothing.
And that was no way to live.
“Ally, I—excuse me.” She spun away from her friend, the box of a
pple cobbler still clutched in her hand, and marched into the office. She needed to start living, start finding a way back to herself that didn’t include baking in the middle of the night and then working herself to the bone.
She escaped out the back door and got behind the wheel of her car. She drove around her beloved town, searching for an answer. Turning without thinking, she arrived at a gray-and-white-brick church.
Kurt’s church.
Sure enough, glancing right, she found the Elberta Street sign just down on the corner. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten here, as she’d only come to church with him once. But the power of the building called to her, and she got out of the car and headed toward the double oak doors.
She wasn’t expecting them to be unlocked this early in the morning, and they weren’t. She wandered the perimeter of the building and found a bench around the back that sat out of direct sunlight. Though it wasn’t early, the Texas sun in September could inflict some major damage any time it was up.
May settled onto the bench, a sigh leaking from her body like she was seventy-eight, not thirty-eight.
Thirty-nine, she corrected herself. She’d had another birthday—and she couldn't even remember what she’d done.
She searched for the memory and found it. Ally and Juan Carlos had been at the restaurant already when she’d arrived to start on the day’s crème brûlées and double-fudge brownies.
Juan Carlos had made a mini birthday cake and the two of them sang Happy Birthday to May. She’d cried. And not only at their kindness, but because Kurt hadn’t been there. She’d half-expected him to be waiting on her couch, Char curled into his side, when she got home from work. But she wasn’t. Even the little apricot poodle had let the day go by without much fanfare.
“You’ve got to do something,” she said the trees bordering the sidewalk. “You can’t keep living in this nothingness state. It’s not healthy.” And it would eventually end, whether she wanted it to or not. Her father, though May knew he loved her, would hold up his end of the bargain come the end of the year.