“I had no idea this was your place. I’m here to take pictures for a listing.” She looked over at her broken camera.
Oh. Oh! Bill had said he’d send someone over. I never asked him for details because I assumed it would be during the day when I wasn’t home. Not that I was supposed to be home now either.
Kennedy tried to stand up and winced. “Ow. I think I may have twisted my ankle.”
More like I had twisted it when I pulled her to the ground. She’d offered to get me ice a second ago when she was the one that was actually hurt. “Don’t move. We need to get your ankle elevated before it starts to swell. Penny, get me some ice from the freezer.” I bent down and lifted Kennedy into my arms.
She inhaled sharply. And I wasn’t sure if it was because her ankle hurt or because for just a second she felt like she’d been transported back 16 years too.
She smelled like her mother’s cooking. Mrs. Alcaraz’s famous empanadas. She smelled just like Brooklyn had when she’d lived with her uncle and then with the Alcaraz’s. And in the weirdest way, it smelled like home.
I held her like that in the kitchen for a beat too long.
She looked up at me, her eyes no longer filled with unshed tears. “Um…you can put me down now,” she said with a smile.
“Right.” I carried her into the family room and laid her down on my couch. I grabbed a few pillows to prop her ankle up. And then I unzipped her boots…boots that were perfect for Kennedy. The distressed leather was artsy and stylish on her. I let her boots fall to the ground and ran my thumb down the inside of her ankle. “Does that hurt?”
She nodded.
For a few seconds we just stared at each other. The scent of her skin made me feel at ease for the first time in years. Did she feel it too?
“Here’s some ice,” Penny said, rushing into the room. “I’m so sorry I threatened to stab you in the face. I thought you were someone else.” She finished wrapping a towel around the ice pack and gently placed it on Kennedy’s ankle, somehow knowing exactly what to do. I guess it was the mother in her.
Kennedy reached down to hold the ice in place. “Who did you think I was?”
“A murderer,” Penny said at the same time I said, “no one.”
Kennedy glanced back and forth between us. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t even introduced myself to your wife. I’m Kennedy.” She held her free hand out to Penny.
Penny looked at me and laughed. “Matt’s not my husband.”
It’s not that funny.
“We’re just friends,” Penny clarified. “Matt practically grew up with my husband, James.”
“James Hunter?” Kennedy’s eyebrows both raised.
I knew what she was thinking. James hadn’t exactly been the kind of guy to settle down in high school. He was high or drunk more than half the time.
“Mhm,” Penny said. “Do you know him too?”
“Um, yeah. I mean, I used to in high school,” Kennedy said.
“Wait, you all went to high school together?”
“Yeah, we were all friends because Brooklyn…”
“We used to hang out in Brooklyn,” I quickly corrected. I didn’t mean for it to sound so dirty though.
Kennedy opened her mouth, probably to call me out on my bullshit, but I cut her off.
“Penny, could you grab some more ice?” I asked. “We definitely need more. I think there’s another pack somewhere in the back of the freezer.” It was a total lie. But sending Penny on a wild goose chase was the only way I could think to buy time to bring Kennedy up to speed on everything.
“Sure thing,” she said and stood up. As soon as Penny was out of earshot, I started talking.
“Penny doesn’t know about Brooklyn. Please don’t tell her. She’s one of the only people in my life who doesn’t stare at me like I’m broken. Kind of like you are right now.”
Kennedy put her hand to her chest like it hurt. Maybe it did. Because mine physically ached. “I’ve never looked at you like you were broken. I looked at you like you were grieving.” She searched my face. “You’re still grieving.” She didn’t ask it like a question. She said it like a statement. Like I was that easy to read. Was I really that transparent?
“Matt!” Penny called from the kitchen. “I can’t find it. Where did you say it was?”