The other news outlets in Denver had picked up the exposé, and this morning a short piece had run on CNN. Lawsuits were already being filed in courthouses in several Colorado counties to stop construction on other GoldStar developments.
The elation she’d expected to feel never materialized. She was proud of the work she’d done on the story, and she was relieved that Silver Creek was safe from GoldStar.
Mainly, though, she wanted to cry.
“Honey, are you sure you don’t want one of us to drive you to your parents’ house?” Chloe had joined Sam inside the kitchen doorway. “I can take a couple days off work.”
Kendall took a long sip from the mug on the counter. “Of course not. I’ll be fine.”
Her friends didn’t look convinced. “You need to eat something on the road,” Sam ordered. “You can’t live on coffee and diet soda.”
“I’m eating. You were here when the pizza came for lunch. You saw me eat.”
Sam didn’t back down. “I saw you take two half-hearted bites before tossing your plate in the trash. How much weight have you lost in the past three weeks?”
Kendall didn’t have the energy to argue. “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, slumping against the counter. “My jeans are loose but I haven’t stepped on the scale.”
Sam’s voice was soft when she said, “Call him before you go.”
The tenderness in her friend’s tone was Kendall’s undoing. She blinked back tears. “I can’t. I made my choice. I can’t turn back now.”
Ty had left her a message the night the first segment aired. He’d apologized for doubting her, then wished her good luck in New York. But he hadn’t asked her to call him or given any indication that he wanted to speak with her again.
As much as it hurt, Kendall told herself that a clean break would be the easiest for both of them.
Chloe squeezed Kendall’s arm. “But can you move forward like this?”
“I have to.” Kendall’s voice trembled. “I have to,” she repeated and rested her head against Chloe’s shoulder.
“Oh, sweetie, we want you to be happy.” Chloe wrapped her arms around Kendall’s back.
“I’ll have to add happy to the plan. Right after I cross out romance with a permanent marker.”
“Men,” Sam whispered as she joined the small circle. “Can’t live with ’em, go to jail if you kill ’em.”
“I’m going to miss you two so much.” Kendall laughed through her tears.
“We’re here when you need us,” Sam assured her.
She never thought she’d miss the drone of the window AC unit in her parents’ trailer, but it was better than baking in the Midwestern heat. She’d spent the past week with her mom and dad, although her father was gone for long hours most days. It was the height of the summer season at Elmwood Country Club, and he spent early mornings and evenings mowing the lawns at the homes of some of the club’s wealthy members.
Her mom’s RA had flared shortly after Kendall arrived, so they’d stayed indoors for most of the visit. They both loved Jane Austen and there had been several movie marathons with Elizabeth Bennet, Mr. Darcy, Anne Elliot, and Captain Wentworth. And although her hands were swollen and red, Marianne Clark still loved a manicure.
“Do you ever regret it?” Kendall tried to be gentle as she held her mother’s stiff fingers between hers and painted the nails a bright shade of pink.
“Regret what?”
Kendall could feel her mom watching her, but kept her eyes focused on her task. “Everything you gave up for Daddy.”
“What do you think I gave up?”
“School. A career. Your future.”
“Sweetie.” The nail polish brush jerked as Marianne moved her hand under Kendall’s chin, tipping it up. “Those things weren’t meant to be for me.”
“Because you gave—”
“Because I made a choice. A choice to love your father for better or worse. The same commitment he gave to me.”
“But—”
“I know this life wasn’t enough for you.” Her mother’s smile was sad. “We weren’t enough for you.”
“That’s not true.” Kendall shook her head and her mother gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“It’s ok for you to want something different, but I’m happy. You need to stop blaming your father. Don’t be afraid that loving someone is going to make you weak. Real love doesn’t tear you down. It builds you up so that you can get through the hard stuff. I want you to be happy. You deserve that. And not because of what you do or where you live. You deserve to be happy and loved for who you are. That’s how your father and I love you.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“And . . .”
Kendall closed her eyes. “And Dad, too.”
“That means the world to me, sweetie.”
When Marianne went to her bedroom for a nap, Kendall spent a few moments alone before she packed a cooler and headed toward Kansas City. She grabbed her water bottle and the cooler from the backseat and walked toward the front entrance of the Elmwood Country Club.
“Hey, baby doll.” Her dad smiled as he glanced up from the valet stand. Mike Clark was only in his early fifties, but the years of pre-sobriety drinking had taken their toll. He was still lean and muscled from the handyman jobs he took over the winter when his valet hours decreased, but lines bracketed his eyes and mouth, and the skin around his jaw was sagging.
She knew it wasn’t only alcohol that had aged him. Her father worked harder than any man she knew, doing whatever necessary to bring home money to cover his wife’s medical expenses. They didn’t talk about the fact that Kendall supplemented the family finances when insurance and his paycheck weren’t enough to cover the prescriptions and doctor visits she needed. When Kendall was younger, it had been one more source of embarrassment that her family couldn’t afford the lavish vacations her friends bragged about, let alone a weekend away. Now she saw the truth . . . that her father’s work ethic was a testament to his love and dedication to his family.
“Hi, Daddy.” She leaned forward to kiss his tanned cheek.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, giving her shoulder an awkward squeeze. “Is your mom ok?”
She and her father had never related well without her mother as a go-between. Although they were family, it was as if neither of them knew how to talk to the other. But Kendall had amended her master plan to include addressing things in her life that needed fixing before she moved to New York. Her relationship with her dad was one of the most important.
“She’s fine.” Kendall lifted the small cooler. “I heard noon is your break and thought I’d bring lunch.”
Her dad’s eyes widened for a moment and she held her breath, wondering how he’d take her gesture after all these years of their strained connection.
Then he smiled. “That’s nice of you, baby girl. I sure do appreciate it.”
He introduced her to the two young men working with him, explaining that she was visiting Kansas before moving to New York for an important network job.
It was the most she’d ever heard her quiet father say in one breath. She shook hands with both of the guys before one of them dashed away as a Mercedes pulled under the awning that shaded the club’s main entrance.
“Your dad brags about you all the time,” the other one, a stocky teenager with shaggy brown hair, told her.
She glanced at her father, who shrugged. “You’re a good girl, Ken,” he said simply. “I’m real proud.”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes. Her parents had shown their support in so many ways over the years, but this was the first time her father had said those words to her. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to hear them until now.
“There’s a picnic table outside the kitchen where we can sit.” He wiped a hand across his bro
w. “But it’s dang hot today. I get it if you want to leave the lunch and head back to your mom.”
She sniffed and dabbed at the corner of one eye. “I made egg salad sandwiches.”
“My favorite.”
He led her across the driveway just as a thin, blond woman in a printed sundress stepped out of the sports car. “Kendall Clark?” she breathed, bringing her fingers up to delicately touch her lips. Kendall was almost blinded by the huge diamond sparkling from her left hand.
“Remmie Carmichael.” Kendall recognized her at once. Remmie had been the ringleader of the popular clique at Graves and one of Kendall’s biggest tormenters during her first year.
“What are you doing in Kansas?” Remmie asked, her shrewd gaze sweeping over Kendall, head to foot.
Kendall was wearing a shapeless T-shirt and denim shorts, flip-flops on her feet, and not a stitch of makeup. She’d showered earlier but tied her hair back in a messy ponytail, knowing it was pointless to style it when the humidity would cause it to frizz in minutes. She had clear memories of Remmie’s assessing stare from years ago, but found it didn’t have the same effect now.
“I’m visiting my parents.” Her dad had taken a step away, but she pulled him forward. “You know my father.”
“Of course,” Remmie answered but didn’t bother to flick him a glance. “We saw you on the national news last week and heard you’re going to be working on Wake Up Weekend!”
Kendall nodded.
“It’s one of my favorite shows. After the Real Housewives, of course.” Remmie smiled. “I fly up to New York several times a year to go shopping. I’d love a tour of the studio.”
Kendall felt her mouth drop open then snapped it shut. Remmie seemed to take her silence for agreement and continued, “I’m meeting some of the Graves girls for lunch. You’re welcome to join us.” She scrunched up her pert nose. Kendall hadn’t remembered it resembling a ski slope quite so much when they’d been teenagers. “I’m sure the club office has something appropriate for you to wear.”
She gripped her father’s hand harder when he tried to pull away. “No, thanks. I’m having lunch with my dad today. If any of the girls want to say hello, we’ll be sitting outside the kitchen.”
“The kitchen? In this heat?” Remmie’s eyes filled with disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Kendall took a step away then turned back. “And if you want to visit the studio, call the station’s front desk. Tours for the general public are scheduled through the marketing department.”
She didn’t wait for Remmie to answer, but followed her father quickly around the side of the building. When they were out of sight, she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Her dad raised a brow.
“It’s probably wrong of me to say this, but that felt really good.”
Her father threw back his head and laughed, then grabbed her into a tight hug that lasted almost a full minute. When he finally let her go, he was still smiling. “So proud,” he whispered.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Three weeks later, Kendall hefted her suitcase into the back of the ancient Land Cruiser, slammed the cargo door shut, and climbed into the passenger seat. “I bet this isn’t what you had in mind when you said you were only a phone call away,” she said, her smile wry.
Sam studied her over the rims of her Jackie O sunglasses. “You look like hell.”
“You would, too, if you’d just flushed your life down the toilet.” Kendall cracked the window an inch and leaned back against the headrest. The air in Colorado, even in the congested parking lot at the airport, smelled like the mountains. Like home.
“It’s still true.” Sam shifted into gear and sped away from the bottleneck of traffic at Denver International Airport.
As they rounded the corner of the massive circus tent that housed the main terminal, Kendall caught her first glimpse of the Front Range, rising out of the distant landscape. Even in early June, there was still a light dusting of snow on the highest peaks. The mountains looked solid and steadfast. Her gaze held tight to their constancy like a life preserver.
When they pulled onto the interstate, the downtown Denver skyline came into view. A cloud of light brown smog hung over the buildings this morning, but to her the city had never looked so beautiful.
She was grateful for Sam’s companionable silence. How was she supposed to explain what had happened in the past few days when she barely understood it?
The soft whir of the tires against the asphalt lulled her and her eyes drifted close. She blinked them open when the Land Cruiser stopped. “Are we at your house?” she asked drowsily, stretching her neck from side to side. Sam only lived about twenty minutes from DIA, so she couldn’t have slept that long.
“We’re here. Rise and shine.” Sam opened the door and hopped out. Kendall squinted through the front window to where Sam greeted a large, black dog in front of a Victorian-style house. The animal seemed to be doing its best to knock Sam over with all of its jumping and wiggling. Kendall climbed out of the truck and closed the door as quietly as she could manage.
It didn’t matter. The dog’s floppy ears perked at the sound of the click. He turned, spotted Kendall, and thundered across the yard toward her. She pressed herself flat against the side of the Land Cruiser and watched Sam walk up the steps. Based on Kendall’s previous experiences with animals, there was no telling what a big dog might do to her. Teeth, claws, misplaced bodily functions. Was it any wonder she expected the worst?
From the front porch Sam called with a laugh, “Frank, sit.”
Mere inches in front of her, Frank dug his paws into the yard and plopped his wide rear on the ground. His long tail swished the grass back and forth and he panted hard.
“Good dog,” Kendall breathed, reaching out to pet his head. His tail thumped harder and she smiled.
It seemed like almost everyone in Colorado had a dog. If she planned on making this her home, she should think about adopting one. Frank’s sloppy tongue licked her outstretched hand, leaving behind a slimy coating of slobber. On second thought, maybe she’d start with a cat.
Wiping her hand on her jeans, she eased around the dog and hurried up the walk. Her suitcase could wait until later. When she got to the front porch, she heard a whistle from inside. Frank rose from his spot near the curb and lumbered to the middle of the front yard. He rolled onto his back to soak up the morning sun.
“He’s well trained,” she said to Sam, who held the screen door open.
Sam smiled. “And as gentle as they come. Don’t let his size fool you. Animals can sense your fear.”
“Who can’t?” Kendall mumbled as she stepped into the house.
To her surprise, Sam didn’t make a snide comment. Kendall figured that meant she was too pathetic to joke about. How sad was that?
“Do you want something to drink?”
Kendall made a face. “Got any rat poison?”
“Fresh out. But there’s some iced green tea in the refrigerator. Have a seat in the living room and I’ll pour a couple glasses.”
“Any chocolate?” Kendall questioned hopefully.
Sam grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
When Sam disappeared down the hall, Kendall turned back to where the dog still lay stretched in the grass. If only life were that easy. She went back outside. It was too beautiful a day to be in the house. And she needed whatever calm the fresh spring air could bring.
Frank lifted his head when the screen door banged shut but didn’t get up. She sank into one of the wicker rocking chairs that sat on the large porch. A few minutes later, Sam emerged from the house carrying a tray with two glasses and a wooden bowl.
“No chocolate,” she announced. “But I’ve got carob covered almonds.”
Kendall grimaced but took both the glass of tea and the bowl of nuts.
“Get used to it,” Sam warned. “It’s all organic in this house.”
Kendall popped an almond into her mouth. It was no M&M, but it would do for now. “Thanks again for letting me stay. I know camp preparations start soon. I’ll try to keep out of the way.”
“Stick around long enough and I’ll put you to work.” Sam sipped her tea. When Kendall met her sideways glance Sam asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes. But I don’t know where to begin. Everything happened so fast.”
“Start with the visit to your folks.”
Kendall stared toward the street where a young boy on a bike sped past. “I hadn’t been back there in almost four years. All this time I believed my mom had made the wrong choice. But I talked to her this time, to both of them.” She looked over. “They’re happy. She’s happy. They struggle sometimes, but who doesn’t in a marriage?”
“Who doesn’t in life?”
“Right. But I can’t believe it took me so long to appreciate the parts of my childhood that helped make me the person I am today.” Kendall took of sip of tea. Her hand shook so hard the ice rattled in the tall glass. She tried to laugh it off. “I should have invested in some therapy long ago. It would have saved me a lot of shame and guilt.”
“I’m glad you finally figured out what the rest of us already know. You’re pretty great just the way you are.”
Kendall sighed. “Then I got to New York. Feeling comfortable in Kansas and making it in the Big Apple are two different things. Talk about a Dorothy Gale complex. I might as well have landed in Oz. New York City has been part of my plan forever, but all I could think when I got there was that it wasn’t home for me. Everything was overwhelming—the city, the network, all the new people.”
“Seems normal. You didn’t want to give it some time?”
“That would’ve been prudent.”
“You’re always prudent.”
Kissing Mr. Right Page 22