If you’d only been there, I beat myself up again. Instead all I say is, “I understand.”
“How can you, Jennings?” she snaps. Rubbing her hand across her forehead, she apologizes. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself these days. That wasn’t fair. There’s still so much you can do for Kevin, needs I can’t meet for him emotionally.”
“It seems to me, Kara, you’ve given him everything.”
“Thank you, but he was beginning to change even before…all of this. Now, I’m petrified everything that’s happened at such a crucial time—when he’s about to become a man—is going to mark him.” Her frustration is evident in every word.
Propping my chin on my hand, I lean forward. “And that, right there, is how I know you’ve given our son everything, because you love him. There are children who aren’t quite so lucky in this world.”
Her eyes flare at my words. “Jennings…”
I lean back and pick up my coffee and the remainder of my scone. Standing, I nod down to her computer. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner?”
“I…yes.”
“Is there anything I can bring?”
“If you don’t want to listen to your son whine about being hungry, feel free to bring anything to shove in his mouth while I finish up cooking,” Kara replies drolly, her composure completely restored which is a shame. I rather like when I can shake it up and find my Kara beneath this calm demeanor.
Wait. My Kara? Where is this coming from? I crumble up the paper before stuffing it into the disposable cup. “Then I’ll see you later. Oh, and Kara?” She freezes in the act of opening her laptop lid. “I suspect somehow, some way, your brother is actually reading those letters. Would you mind passing along my gratitude to both him and Jed?”
Her lower lip trembles, so she bites it to prevent the emotions coursing through her from letting loose. Instead of responding, she nods.
“I’ll see you tonight.” With a side wave, I start to head back through Warm Up to where my rental is parked. Now, I just have to figure out where a grocery store is.
But when I pause at the threshold to make certain Kara’s okay, she’s already typing again. This time, there’s a small smile playing about her lips. I wonder what she’s telling her brother about me, I think fleetingly.
Really, it doesn’t matter. What matters is knowing that for a moment I helped chase away the void of despair that was threatening to overwhelm her. Feeling something unusual in the region of my chest, I weave my way through the throng of people waiting for their custom-made coffee and out the front door.
Kara
“Is it possible for you two to behave yourselves? I feel like the two of you have regressed in age,” I say exasperatedly to Maris. Jennings just texted me to let me know he was on his way.
His reply text of I told you I’ll be on time; I keep my promises. pleased me. For Kevin, I told myself firmly.
Meanwhile as I’m pulling chicken casserole out of the oven, Maris bats her eyelashes. “Mommy, I’ll be good. I swear.”
Kevin chooses that moment to return to the kitchen. He snorts. “You look like you’re hunting your prey like on that show we watched on National Geographic. Remember? It was the one where the female ripped the male’s head right off.” I stumble with the heavy pan because of the outrage on Maris’s face. “Honestly, Jennings seems decent.”
Indignation replaces the false sweetness on my best friend’s face. “Did your son just tell me—”
“Mom, Maris is being—”
Dropping the two-ton casserole onto waiting trivets, I wipe my hand across my sweaty brow before glaring at the two individuals who have somehow morphed into toddlers within moments because of a man who has been back in our lives for what seems like a nanosecond. “Stop it right now, or I swear I’m not frying up neflies to go with these,” I warn.
That shuts the two of them up simultaneously. “That’s—” Maris starts before she wisely shuts her mouth.
My son is less diplomatic. “Mean. Cruel. You can’t promise a man heaven of bacon-fried dough and then rip that glory from him,” he declares dramatically.
“Then you and Maris had better watch yourselves. Here’s the ground rules for tonight,” I announce just as the doorbell rings. “Crap,” I mutter.
Maris and Kevin look at each other before shrugging. “I guess it’s whatever happens, happens,” Maris calls over her shoulder as she leaves the room.