Masks and Lies

by McKechnie, A C J

  “Why don’t you go find him?” Betsy said suddenly, and Kendra looked up at the woman in surprise. “Kenny, I’ve been talking for the past few minutes and you ain’t heard a word I said,” the older woman said in exasperation, and Kendra blushed. She hadn’t realized that her thoughts had distracted her so much.

  “I’m sorry, Bets,” Kendra apologized but the woman waved her words away.

  “Kenny. Go see him. Go talk to him,” she urged. “What’s stopping you?”

  “I thought he’d come find me,” she mumbled.

  “Well now, how would he know that’s what you want when you go out of your way to avoid him?” Betsy asked in disapproval, and Kendra shrugged. “The boy’s not an idiot, Kenny. This town is too small for him to have not crossed paths with you since your folks left and you moved in with me unless you’d been doing so on purpose,” Betsy explained, and Kendra shrugged again.

  “He could still have found me,” she mumbled but knew that Betsy had a point.

  “When you’ve made it clear that you don’t want him to? Last time you two had a relationship he’d been sent to persuade you, to corner you and get you to do what he wanted, did you ever think that’s he’s proving to you that this time he’s letting you come to your decisions on your own?”

  “Uh …,” Kendra said with wide eyes. No, she hadn’t thought of that.

  “No. I didn’t think so,” Betsy said before sighing. “Kenny, that boy wants you. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. But you’re going to have to give him some sort of indication that you’re ready to give him a chance,” she said softly, and Kendra frowned over that. “He’s made it mighty obvious by moving himself to your hometown that he wants you, now it’s your turn to send him a smoke signal.”

  Kendra thought over that for a few minutes before Betsy’s voice broke through again.

  “You still haven’t forgiven him? You still won’t hear him out?” she asked in curiosity, and Kendra shook her head. Unbeknownst to anybody Kendra had already heard Mitchell’s apology, had already heard his explanation about it all.

  When she’d left the waiting room after their last encounter she’d gotten to the elevators before turning back around and heading back to the man, wanting to see what would happen if they had a chance to speak to each other. As she’d been approaching, however, she’d heard her dad’s voice and had stopped in her tracks, leaned against the wall, and eavesdropped on the whole conversation between the pair.

  Which is why she was especially confused over why Mitchell hadn’t gone on to do anything more with regards to pursuing her. He’d told her dad that he would, that there’d be no getting rid of him, that he was determined to have her in his life. But he hadn’t done anything. Nothing. And she didn’t know why.

  Something more could have passed between them, but she didn’t think so. Her dad had made to leave, and Kendra had ducked into the closest doorway to avoid being caught spying on the pair, so there was a chance that something else had passed between them, but it hadn’t been more than a few seconds before Howard had passed. Plus, Betsy was right, Mitchell was still hanging around town. Surely if he’d given up, he’d have gotten out.

  “I don’t want to be the one to search him out, Bets,” Kendra finally said. “I don’t want him to think I’m the one giving in first,” she declared and watched as Betsy smirked at that.

  “I ain’t saying you go find the man on bended knee, Kenny, but at least give him a chance to make the first move himself. Hiding from him ain’t the way to get the man broaching the subject with you.”

  “Surely if he wanted me though, he would have sought me out anyway. Surely he would have come straight to me,” she mumbled again while wrapping her arms around herself as the vulnerability she’d been feeling recently with regards to it all reared its head again. After deciding that she wanted to hear the man out she’d been waiting for him to appear, but it wasn’t happening and it almost felt like a rejection to her.

  “Why the rush?” Betsy asked as she sat back.

  “Shouldn’t he been keen, eager, to search me out, to sort things out between us?”

  “Perhaps he thought you needed time?” Betsy suggested, and Kendra frowned again as she studied the woman across from her. “Face it, Kenny, the man’s not going anywhere, he’s willing to wait around for you. Do you really think he feels the need to rush you both?” she asked, and Kendra’s eyes narrowed in on her friend.

  “He’s spoken to you about me, hasn’t he?” Kendra asked, and Betsy shrugged.

  “Of course.”

  “You know what he’s thinking and planning then?”

  “No, Kenny, I don’t. He refuses to get me involved. Told me I needed to rest up and that he don’t want me worrying about it all. I’m just speculating, giving you reasons to think about. Hypotheses to consider. But I’ve gotten to know that boy, and I’m giving you my opinions based on what I know about him,” she explained, and Kendra thought on that.

  Ever since she’d moved back home she’d been surprised at Betsy’s defense of the man. She’d also been surprised at how much respect the older woman gave him. After his behavior, Kendra had thought that Betsy wouldn’t have let the man anywhere near her or the town in general. But she had. As had everyone else.

  If Kendra hadn’t already admitted that she wanted to hear the man out, the town’s response and acceptance of Mitchell would have been enough to have her open to listening to what he had to say. As welcoming as the townsfolk generally were, they weren’t ones to allow someone who’d lied, deceived, and hurt one of their own to remain hereabouts if they didn’t have a good reason, namely that that person wasn’t quite as bad as their actions would imply.

  And of course there was Notaku. A proud man who valued integrity and honesty above almost all else. The fact that the man had welcomed Mitchell with outstretched arms was telling. Growling Bear wouldn’t be taken in by someone who he didn’t trust. Though how Mitchell had managed to win everyone around so easily was confusing. That was until Kendra thought of ‘Nick’. When she thought of the man she’d gotten to know for those months she could easily see how he’d be able to endear himself to the rest of the town.

  Which had another implication of course: that ‘Nick’ hadn’t been a complete act. There was a chance that the man who Kendra had fallen in love with hadn’t been a complete act, that he really had existed, and, in fact, still did. There was a chance that if she heard Mitchell out, that she’d find that everything she’d been secretly hoping of having in her life before it had all gone wrong could still be hers.

  Of course there was a whole boatload of issues with regards to dishonesty that needed clearing up, but if they could get through it all, then perhaps they had a future. If she told him about her alcoholism, if he explained himself about his motivations, perhaps they’d be able to get back on track.

  Which was the precise thought that had been bothering her so much since moving back to town. The fact that she couldn’t see what would happen because he wasn’t coming to her was infuriating in a way. But if Betsy was right, then it was as much her fault as his. If he was giving her space and time like she was silently demanding of him with her actions, then she couldn’t be mad solely at him. And she couldn’t wait around for him to take the first step.

  “So what do I do now?” she suddenly asked Betsy as she slowly looked up at the woman with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

  Noticing the woman’s eyes flick down to the death grip she had on herself, Kendra just waited for her friend’s response. Waited in dread and nervousness.

  “I think you send him a sign, Kenny,” the woman said softly with a gentle smile.

  * * *

  Glancing around himself, Mitchell held in his sigh of frustration again. It had been over two weeks since Kendra had moved back to Granville, three weeks since he’d last seen her, and those two facts hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.

  The fact that the woman had managed to avoid any contact with him in a
ll that time didn’t bode well to him being able to get back into her good books. It was blatantly obvious that she was avoiding him, and he wasn’t sure what else to do except to just wait and be patient.

  Eventually he’d run into the woman. Either because so much time had passed that she gave up arranging her life around not seeing him, or because chance would have their paths crossing in spite of her reluctance for that to be the case.

  It would eventually happen though. He could wait for however long it took, after all, he’d already spent over two years of his life waiting for the woman, though obviously in a complete different capacity. Shaking his head to remove the reminder of why he was stuck in this predicament with regards to Kendra, Mitchell instead headed further into the diner and made his way to the back.

  He came to a stop, however, when he saw Betsy standing behind the counter, and frowned at the older woman. The frown was replaced by a look of sheer horror, however, when he noticed her place a plate on the countertop with a triumphant smirk on her face.

  “What have I done?” he asked with dread as he eyed the offering in front of the woman.

  “Excuse me?” she asked with a furrowed brow.

  “I’m sorry. Really, really sorry, Bets,” he said sincerely. He might not have any idea what the heck he was sorry for, but he was. Whatever he’d done he was so sorry he’d done it.

  “What are you talking about, Mitchell?” she demanded with hands on her hips, and he moved ever so slightly closer to her, reluctant to approach the monstrosity on the counter.

  Warily eyeing the chocolate pie that she’d presented to him, Mitchell swallowed nervously and said, “Whatever I’ve done, Bets, I promise not to do it again. I swear. Just tell me what it was and I won’t ever repeat the mistake,” he vowed.

  “Mitchell Astley, you sit down right this minute,” she ordered, and he shook his head. No way. He’d endured enough of this woman’s chocolate pies to make even her verbal threats tame in comparison. “Mitchell!”

  “No,” he said with wide eyes and watched as hers narrowed on him. He probably shouldn’t be arguing with the woman, especially considering the fact that she was still recuperating, but the thought of the bitter and overly sweet monstrosities he’d been forced to eat before was enough to get him thinking about himself this once.

  “I want this plate cleaned, boy,” she demanded, and Mitchell spun around abruptly.

  “Anyone, anyone at all,” he said to the rest of the diner at large. “Is anyone willing to do me a favor?” he pleaded and watched as everyone present shook their heads vigorously. “Please,” he tried, not above begging at this stage.

  “Not a chance,” Bobby muttered and focused back on his coffee cup instead.

  “Walter?” Mitchell tried with wide eyes, and the man just snorted in response.

  “Looks like you’ll have to do the deed yourself, Mitchell,” another man said with a smile, and Mitchell scrabbled about in his brain to think of another solution.

  “I’ll pay you!” he suddenly declared and watched the raised brows at his offer. “I’ll pay one of you,” he affirmed.

  “I can guarantee that you ain’t got nowhere near enough money to tempt anyone to eat one of Betsy’s chocolate pies, city boy,” Walter declared, and Mitchell looked on at the rest of them to see them all nodding in agreement.

  “Sorry, Mitchell,” Bobby finally said and stood up to leave, “but this is one bullet nobody’s willing to take for ya.”

  With that the man placed his money on the table, tipped his hat to Betsy, and sauntered out of the diner, prompting the rest of the patrons to focus on their food once again, and leaving Mitchell to deal with his predicament on his own.

  “I bet Growling Bear would help me out,” he muttered under his breath before he turned back to Betsy slowly and with dread.

  The woman was just standing there smiling triumphantly at him while she nudged the plate closer to him.

  “Looks like you’re on your own for this one, Mitchell,” she said with a wide smile.

  “I thought you loved me, Bets,” he lamented as he neared the offending pastry item. “What happened to our being friends?”

  “Maybe,” she said as she leaned forward with a twinkle in her eye, “I’m being a better friend than you ever imagined,” she said, and he just looked dubiously at her at that.

  “Did the hospital manage to fix your chocolate dessert skills while they were fixing your heart, Bets?” he teased but noticed her push the plate towards him once more without saying anything. So much for distracting her with humor.

  “It ain’t going nowhere, Mitchell,” she said after a few minutes had passed with him staring at the food in dread.

  Swallowing hard, he pushed back his shoulders and bravely picked up his fork with a trembling hand.

  “I’m not that bad of a cook,” she mumbled under her breath but Mitchell just concentrated on his current nemesis.

  Using his fork to break off the very tip of the wedge in front of him, he felt a surge of optimism as he noticed the texture of the filling was actually creamy instead of Betsy’s usual grainy offering. Lifting the fork tentatively to his lips, Mitchell closed his eyes and took his first bite, cringing as he did so.

  The cringe almost immediately made way to surprise and his eyes popped open with a question in them as he stared at the woman opposite him.

  “That there pie’s just for you, Mitchell,” Betsy said gently with a smile for him. One which he reciprocated widely before tucking back into the offering in front of him.

  He’d know the taste of that pie anywhere, and it sure as heck wasn’t Betsy’s handiwork that had created it. It was Kendra’s. It was Kendra’s chocolate pie in front of him. Kendra’s chocolate pie that she’d made just for him. Kendra’s sign that she was ready for him.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Looking about herself, Kendra rubbed her arms and continued to wait. After finally building up the courage to send a sign to Mitchell she’d sent Betsy to the diner with a pie for the man. His favorite chocolate pie that she figured he’d have figured out had been baked by her for all those weeks that they’d been together.

  Betsy had come back wearing a smile on her face and relating the whole incident to Kendra. Kendra had laughed at the man’s reluctance to eat it after Betsy had punished him with her offerings after Kendra had left, and had found herself surprised at the action. She could imagine Mitchell standing there, reluctant to go anywhere near the chocolate confection.

  In her mind’s eye she could see his wide blue eyes in his shocked yet handsome face and thick blonde hair framing it all. She could see it all and she’d felt a pang of longing at the absence of his presence.

  After Betsy had informed her that she’d passed on the message to the man that the pie had been baked solely for him, Kendra had almost expected him on the doorstep that night, but he hadn’t arrived. It had been a few days later, days which had had Kendra doubting her decision and regretting her overture, before she’d finally had some contact from the man. And it hadn’t been the contact she’d been expecting.

  She’d received an invitation. And invitation for a date. A date at the first place they’d gone to together. Which was why she was currently sitting near the small dock on Walter’s property, wondering when the man would finally arrive and put her out of her misery. She was cold and she was bored. And she was also feeling vulnerable. Not vulnerable to predators, but emotionally vulnerable.

  That vulnerability wasn’t helping her desires and temptations either. If there’d been a bottle to hand, she wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to resist the lure of it. Trying to ignore the itching, she instead grabbed herself more tightly and thought of other things. Like her mom and dad, who were well and truly embroiled in wedding plans.

  Her mom hadn’t actually returned home at all yet. When the pair had left Jacksonburg they’d headed straight back to Howard’s home together, and Kendra couldn’t see that changing in the future. They only had a
couple of weeks until they were married and then there’d be no reason for her mom to leave.

  Kendra was due to head back for the wedding and had been surprised that her mom and dad had both asked if she’d be coming back alone. Uncertain as to their implication at the time she’d wondered if they’d been referring to Betsy or to Mitchell, and hadn’t been able to answer the question.

  She couldn’t see Mitchell being welcome at her dad’s wedding, but then she’d remembered that the man had said that he wouldn’t stand in their way. He obviously recognized that there was a chance that she would end up with his former employee, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d do anything to fracture the tentative bond that had only been recently formed between her and him.

  Her mom had already tried to get Kendra to hear Mitchell out, accepting of the fact that people often made bad decisions for reasons they felt justifiable at the time. She’d always been an advocate of Kendra hearing him out and Marilyn knew that Kendra still loved the man that ‘Nick’ had been.

  Well, whether it had been Mitchell they’d been referring to didn’t matter. There’d be no reason to bring the man to her parents’ wedding if he never appeared and spoke to her.

  Glancing around again, Kendra sighed and tried to figure out how long she should wait before giving up and heading home. Though admittedly she had been earlier than the note had said. It had told her to meet him at seven and she’d arrived twenty minutes early. Looking at her watch, Kendra was surprised to find that it was still a couple of minutes to seven and she stifled a sigh. She’d expected the dial to read half past with the amount of time that she’d felt had passed.

  She shouldn’t have been so eager. This waiting was killing her.

  Rubbing her arms and holding herself more tightly again, she glanced about herself and got lost in the memories that the place evoked in her. As she was doing so a noise to the side caught her attention and she looked over in surprise to see the man she’d just been thinking about standing there, staring at her with a wary look on his face.