by J. L. Leslie
“And she wants another chance!” he raises his voice. “Are you going to deny Willow the opportunity to know her own mother?”
“Willow doesn’t ask about her at all,” I inform him. “Not once has she asked for Brynn.”
“And you think that’s normal? You think that’s okay?” Kipton shouts.
“I think it’s absolutely normal for Willow to not ask for Brynn because she doesn’t fucking know her!”
“You will regret keeping Brynn from Willow,” Kipton shakes his head. “And if you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Jenna what she thinks? I’ve heard all about how the two of you went fishing and then had pizza together yesterday. Is that the plan, Kaler? You can’t have Brynn so just move on to the next best thing? Her best friend?”
“Oh, screw you, Kip!” I yell. “We were all friends with Jenna! Nothing has changed with that!”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Kipton smarts. “We both know she will never be Brynn.”
He steps out of the shop without looking back. He’s right about one thing. Jenna will never be Brynn. That’s a damn good thing to me.
Jenna
I slip off my shoes and release my hair from the ponytail I’ve had it in all day. I go to my kitchen and rummage around in the fridge, trying to find myself a snack to eat. I decide on yogurt and grab one of the small containers out. I’ve barely taken a bite when my phone rings. I can instantly tell that something is wrong with Brynn the moment I answer.
“What’s happened?” I ask her. “Do I need to come to Tuscaloosa and kick mullet guy’s ass?” This gets a laugh out of her, but she still sniffles. “Brynn, what’s wrong?”
“Kaler still refuses to let me see Willow. I asked Kipton to speak to him about it and he said he blew up. I don’t want to keep sneaking around to try to see her and only seeing her every few months. I’m ready to be her mama now.”
I open my mouth to tell her that it doesn’t work that way, that she can’t suddenly reappear after all these years and expect to be welcomed with open arms but decide against it. It is what Brynn expects and telling her otherwise would only cause an argument between us. I don’t want to argue with her while she’s upset. She needs a shoulder to cry on and I can be that friend for her.
“If he won’t speak to you, maybe you should try to write him a letter. That way you can explain what you were going through and why you left. It’s possible he will understand if you tell him that way. The two of you have a lot of history together.”
“Kipton says he’s seeing someone,” Brynn says quietly.
I’m taken aback by that news. I had no idea Kaler was seeing anyone since he hasn’t mentioned it to me. I’m tempted to call him as soon as we hang up and ask who she is but then that would make me look like a damn psycho. It’s not my business if he’s seeing someone.
“I wouldn’t know, Brynn,” I reply, frowning when I hear a knock on my door. I put my yogurt on the counter and tell Brynn, “If he is seeing someone though, I don’t think that should matter. He is allowed to date. You both are. You should still contact him about Willow though.”
“Can you ask him? Not about who he’s seeing, but about Willow,” she pleads. “Maybe he needs someone else’s perspective on it besides Kipton.”
I open my door and shake my head, smiling, although she can’t see me through the phone. Kaler stands at my door, Willow at his side in a red wagon.
“I really don’t want to get involved,” I answer her, holding a finger up to tell him to give me a second. I head back into the kitchen and dispose of my unfinished yogurt.
“Please, Jenna,” she begs. “I need some people in my corner. Anything will help. The two of you always got along, so maybe hearing it from you will make him change his mind.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I finally concede. “I’ll have to call you back in a bit. I’m getting another call.”
I feel bad for lying to her, I truly do, but now is not the time to tell her that Kaler is at my door with Willow and that I’m Willow’s teacher. It would break her heart right now to know that I’m spending time with her daughter when she isn’t able to. I will tell her when the time is right. I just have no idea when that time will be.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” I smile, going back to my door where Kaler is still waiting.
He smiles back at me and then looks down to Willow. “She wanted to go for a walk. Well, in her case, a ride.”
“I’m jealous,” I lean down and tell Willow. “I want to ride in the wagon, but I won’t fit.”
She laughs and says, “Mine!”
“Yes, it’s your wagon and I promise I won’t try to get in there,” I promise her, standing upright.
“You want to come with us?” Kaler asks me, his voice sounding slightly nervous as though he fears I’ll turn him down.
This is the second time he’s shown up at my house unannounced. I probably shouldn’t let him make a habit of it, but I find myself nodding my head. I slide my shoes back on and step outside. Luckily, none of my neighbors are outside, otherwise, they would be taking note that he’s here and we’re leaving together. It doesn’t matter that nothing’s going on between us.
“Sorry for interrupting your phone call,” he tells me as we walk down the sidewalk, him pulling Willow behind us in her wagon.
“I was actually talking to Brynn,” I reply, honestly.
“She recruited you too?” he sighs, annoyed. “I’ve heard it from Kipton, so if you’re going to start in on me about her seeing Willow then you should go back home.”
“I’m not going to start in on you about anything,” I tell him. “I talk to Brynn often and yes, she did mention that she has tried reaching you about Willow, but that’s between the two of you.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Although his statement is short and to the point, it doesn’t come across as rude. I told Brynn I would see what I could do, but I can’t push him to talk to her when he clearly doesn’t want to. I gave her some good advice and now it’s up to her to take it.
For once, she will have to figure out how to make it right. No one else can change this situation for her.
Chapter Eleven
Kaler
I probably sounded rude to Jenna, but I don’t want to talk about Brynn. I don’t want to hear her defend her best friend or try to talk me into answering her calls. I’m not going to change my mind on that.
I’m not sure what Brynn told Jenna when she left me. If she gave her a reason other than not wanting a life with me anymore. I don’t even know if Jenna was shocked or saddened by the news or what advice she gave to Brynn. She could’ve told her she did the right thing for all I know.
“Willow went to the potty for me,” I tell her, changing the subject.
“That’s great! I know you’ve been wanting her to go and she’s getting there. We just have to be patient with her.”
We? I like the sound of that. I like hearing her refer to the two of us as “we.” I know Kipton believes I’m trying to replace Brynn with Jenna, but that’s not the case. I like spending time with her, but we’re friends. I’m not crossing the line. At least, I keep telling myself that.
There have been other women in my life aside from Brynn. None have stuck though. I never wanted any of them to stick, to be honest. With Jenna, she’s sort of sticking all on her own.
Jenna might be Brynn’s closest friend, but she’s nothing like her. Looking back, she never was. It’s funny how love blinds you when you’re young. I could only think of marrying Brynn when I was a teenager. She was the only girl for me and there would never be anyone else.
We had been together for so long. I was her first and she was mine. I didn’t know anything else outside of Brynn. It never occurred to me that perhaps she wasn’t the one for me. All the times we broke up and got back together, I never saw it. It never crossed my mind that our relationship wasn’t a healthy one. We argued over silly shit. We broke up more times than
I can count, but we always got back together. I thought that was a good thing, that we somehow found our way back to each other.
The day she left me, I thought my world was over. At the same time, I thought we would find our way back to each other. That didn’t happen though. We were over and we weren’t finding our way back. I had to get my shit together because we had a kid. I had a kid to raise.
I was stupid for thinking I wanted another chance with Brynn. She never responded to me. Never answered me. She was simply gone. She didn’t look back.
I look over at Jenna, who is content simply walking with me without making meaningless conversation. She’s different and always has been. Sure, we could rattle on about how each other’s days were or what we’re going to do for dinner, but I like that we can spend time together in silence and be comfortable with that. I’m at ease with her. Content. Happy.
We walk a couple of blocks and then cross the street to head back to Jenna’s house. Willow has laid down on the blanket she had in her wagon and her eyes are slowly drifting shut, her purple pot clutched to her chest.
“That was nice,” Jenna comments when we reach her porch. “I can’t remember the last time I went for a walk. Must be why I’m so out of shape.”
“I can’t remember the last time I took a woman for a walk,” I tell her, ignoring the jibe she makes at herself.
“Why did you bring me along?” she questions me. “You went out of your way to come to my house.”
I look over to Willow, who is fast asleep, and then turn back to her. “I’m honestly not sure. I like being around you. I know I was a jackass to begin with, but I have reason to keep my guard up.”
“Well, you don’t have to keep your guard up with me, Kaler,” she assures me, a playful smile on her beautiful face. “We’re friends.”
“Friends,” I repeat and take a step toward her, my eyes studying her reaction. Gauging her to see if she likes that I’m inching closer or if she wants me to back the hell up.
I see her swallow and lick her lips as though she’s anticipating what I’ve wanted to do since I dropped her off at home Saturday evening. I raise one hand and touch her cheek, my calloused fingers grazing over her soft skin. Her eyes flutter shut. I move closer until I can feel her breath on my face. I rub my thumb over her bottom lip.
I know if I close the distance between us then the pretense that we’re only friends will be gone. There’s a chance I could ruin our friendship. Ruin what I have with this one person who has made my anger dissipate. This one person who makes me smile when I’ve had so much hate bottled inside me for so long.
The hell with it.
Jenna
I open my eyes and stare up at Kaler who seems to be having an internal war with himself. His brow is furrowed as he gazes down at my mouth. Should he kiss me or not?
Yes, he should.
Please.
I lick my tongue out just over the tip of his thumb and he brings his other hand up to my neck. I wrap my hand around his wrist, holding him in place. If I could make time stand still, right here in this moment, I would.
“Da-yee?” Willow mumbles and Kaler steps back, immediately dropping his hands. “Home?”
“Yes, Princess, we’re going home,” he tells her, his eyes apologetic.
I cross my arms over my chest and give him a nod. He retreats from my porch, clearly unsure of what to say to me. I don’t know what to say to him either, so I let him go.
I close my door behind me and breathe out. Kaler almost kissed me and I made zero effort to stop him. God, his hand felt so good against my face. The way he touched me was so soft, yet rough because of his calluses. Would he have kissed me had Willow not woken up? Then what? What would that aftermath have been? It’s wrong that I wanted him to. That I have been thinking about him so much. Brynn said he was seeing someone, but I don’t think that’s the case. If he is, it isn’t serious. Besides, there are other single men in Chapelwood, and I should be thinking about them. Trying to find myself a good man. According to Mrs. Sims, the key to happiness is a happy relationship. Of course, she’s been divorced four times.
I walk into my kitchen, telling myself that the almost-kiss was only a fluke. It won’t happen again because we both know it would be wrong for it to. We aren’t supposed to be together because there’s a code for things like this. I’m not sure if it’s girl code or exes code or what it’s called, but we both know we shouldn’t break that code.
I grab a thing of yogurt out of my fridge and then open my laptop. I tear open the small cup and take a seat on my stool. I do my best to push Kaler out of my mind because truth be told, I shouldn’t be thinking about him while I do this.
Although I tell myself it’s a stupid idea, I still go to the dating website that Brynn said she used. I haven’t updated my profile in weeks, so I do that. Then, I accept a date for next weekend. I knew there were single men in Chapelwood. I just had to look for one.
I eat my yogurt, scrolling through profiles. I come across a few that have me shuddering, including Ben’s profile. That was disastrous and I sure as hell don’t want a repeat of that night.
I spend a little time browsing before checking the few messages I have. By the time I sign out, I have a date scheduled, Just one. I don’t need to go on multiple dates to make myself feel better. One will be enough. One is enough to prove that I’m not falling for Kaler Holt.
I go into my living room, only glancing once at the framed picture of Brynn and me on my mantel as I grab my remote control. I flick the television on and manage to convince myself, yet again, that Kaler and I are friends. Nothing more.
We can never be more.
Chapter Twelve
Kaler
It’s been one week since I stood on Jenna’s porch and almost kissed her. We have both moved on, accepting that friendship is what we need from each other. I tell myself it’s for the best. Doesn’t matter how much of a load of bullshit that is.
We have gone for walks nearly every day this past week, me using the excuse that Willow loves going for rides in her wagon. At the end of each walk, I have left Jenna without touching her. Without attempting to kiss her. Without ruining the friendship we have.
When we first started hanging out, I thought being friends with Jenna would be strange. That the only thing we would have to talk about would be the past memories we share. I was wrong about that. Being Jenna’s friend isn’t strange. But it is difficult as hell.
I have to fight the urge to kiss her, touch her. Fight the urge to cross that friendship line. I’m the one who drew it, so I don’t intend on crossing it. I’m fucking torturing myself being in her presence, but I can’t imagine the alternative. I can’t not be around her.
“A dog,” Jenna exclaims, pointing at my television.
She’s on my couch, her feet propped on my coffee table with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. We went for a walk and wound up at my house. Willow was tired and getting cranky. She ate her supper, which was chicken tenders and mashed potatoes, and then I gave her a bath. Jenna kept me company while Willow played in her bubbles, the two of us talking about Willow’s day at school and how she climbed up the slide for the first time by herself. Willow crashed while we were watching Family Feud.
“A lion,” I reply.
My answer is the number one answer. I grin over at Jenna and take a handful of popcorn out of her bowl, telling her I’m a pro at this game. Don’t doubt my skills.
“Obviously, the one hundred people they polled were all men,” she argues. “If women were polled on what animal they compare men to then it would be dogs. Hands down.”
“Don’t be a sore loser,” I tell her, and she punches my shoulder. “Everyone knows we’re like lions, the kings of the jungle.”
“Um, nope, sorry. I’ve dated my fair share of men and I wouldn’t call any of them kings. They were more likely to piss on me like an untrained dog would.”
“Okay, if I were that man you were dating, I wouldn’t piss on you.”<
br />
My line is meant to sound romantic, but I’m rusty and it comes across humorous instead, so Jenna burst out laughing.
“I suppose you wouldn’t chew on my shoes either?” she teases.
“No, but you could rub my belly any time you wanted.”
Now this time, I mean it to be humorous and it sounds fucking sexual. Jenna’s cheeks heat red and she bites her bottom lip just slightly. The host asks another question and she turns her focus to the television screen.
We finish watching the episode and joke with each other about the answers, the sexual tension between us slowly fading. We do this for a total of three episodes, laughing each time one of us gets a wrong answer.
When we’re done with Family Feud, I leave it on the channel, not caring what comes on next but enjoying my time with Jenna. I lean back against the cushions and rest my arm over the back. Jenna repositions until she’s resting against my chest, moving her legs from my coffee table to my couch, stretching them out.
“This show is full of drama,” she tells me, her focus on Jerry Springer. “I swear these people only go on there so they can throw punches at each other.”
Sure enough, the guests on the show are fighting within the first few minutes. The topic is ironic. My husband cheated with my best friend.
That’s not what this is. Not what we’re doing. I’m not Brynn’s husband any longer. I’m not cheating. Spending time with Jenna is not a betrayal to Brynn.
I look down at her, realizing how quiet she is and how relaxed she has become against me. A light snore escapes her, and I chuckle. I allow her to sleep until the show goes off, giving her time to get into a deep sleep, and then I gather her into my lap and carry her down the hall to my room.
“I’ll go home,” she murmurs. “I’ll go, Kaler.”
“Stay,” I encourage her and place her in my bed, covering her with my comforter. “I’ll take the couch and I’ll wake you in the morning.”
She snuggles into my pillow, her mouth slightly parted in sleep. I watch her only for a few seconds and then I leave her. I make myself comfortable on my couch, despite how much I want to go back to Jenna. To hold her, spoon with her. To allow her to make me feel like a man again. To feel like myself again.
