Once again Kellen’s face came to Drea’s mind: those Jedi mind trick eyes and his own impromptu dinner invitation, not to mention the fact that she ended up declining with her quick excuse of getting home and other responsibilities. She couldn’t leave it at that. No way could she leave him with the impression that she wasn’t up for his challenge. She was never one to run away when there was a Goliath in her path.
Well, not usually.
Sure, she’d run out of New York last year when the going got tough and it felt like her career was never going to amount to more than close-but-not-quite auditions and broken promises. Here she was at a crossroads again. It was time to start looking at situations squarely. She was feeling antsy for a comeback of sorts, although where she was coming back from, she didn’t quite know.
Drea grinned, feeling more herself, as her hunger from earlier rose again and she turned to lift the lid off one of the pots, happy to see fresh creamed corn as a side accompaniment with tonight’s chicken dinner. She turned back to her aunt. “Yep, that’s fine by me. Thanks, Aunt Joyce. Now I’m going to make a plate. Did you and Liv eat yet? Sorry I was so late, but I’m starving now. I’ve worked up quite an appetite and looks like I’m going to need my strength for tomorrow.”
* * *
Kellen didn’t know what surprised him more when he stepped into his grandparents’ home that evening, the silence or the lack of anything being prepared for dinner. His first thought was maybe his grandmother wasn’t home when she didn’t greet him with her usual loving outburst of energy, but then Kellen noticed her keys in the bowl on the entryway table. He called out. “Grandma! Grandma!” Physically pushing down the immediate thread of fear that threatened to invade his body, Kellen turned to the right and went up the staircase toward his grandparents’ bedroom searching for her. “Grandma!” The bed was still perfectly made although he could see just the tiniest imprint from where she had sat on his grandfather’s side.
The rest, his pillow, the turndown, appeared perfect, as if no one had slept there for a long while or it was freshly done up like a hotel change out. Kellen looked to the nightstand and could see his grandfather’s reading glasses placed as they always were along with a hardback novel he must have been reading before he passed away. Kellen took slow steps into the bedroom; he didn’t know why.
This room had been one he’d always felt comfortable entering freely, but not today. Kellen looked at the novel. As per usual with his grandfather being always curious, it was a mystery novel with a historical bent, big and thick. Next to it, well-worn and thumbed through, was his grandfather’s Bible. Kellen picked it up. It was small. So small for a man his grandfather’s size. It just filled the width of Kellen’s hand. He opened it, marveling as he always did at the various underlines, highlights, and markings. The almost threadbare bookmarking had him opening to a page, his eyes going to a familiar refrain. He could easily hear his grandfather then as he told him of letting go and leaning onto God and not his own understanding for direction.
Kellen let out a slow breath. It seemed so much easier to do when he still had his grandfather as a sounding board. Kellen closed the Bible. Right now what he needed was direction toward where his grandmother was. Who would help him with that? He was about ready to call the police. He placed the Bible back on the nightstand and put his hand to his hip, standing and turning toward the window in frustration. He glanced out the window, taking in his grandfather’s daily view of the back garden. The sky was quickly darkening, indicating a storm coming in. Kellen’s eyes shifted to the gazebo in the middle of the green and that’s when he saw her.
She was sitting stock still, looking out over the rolling hills, his grandpa’s gardens, and the town below. She didn’t move an inch and Kellen’s breath hitched for a moment, taking in his grandmother’s cocoa brown skin, determined but delicate features, ramrod straight back that showed her inner strength, and he knew immediately what his grandfather saw in her all those years ago. But then the breeze kicked up and he watched as the wind fluttered around her. Her hair moved with the breeze, her shirt fluttered, and even Kellen from the open window caught a bit of a chill, but still his grandma didn’t move, not one bit. Kellen once again felt the threat of fear mixed with frustration this time as he shook his head and headed down the stairs toward the back door.
Kellen jogged out to the gazebo, making quick work of the grass that was under his feet. The wind kicked up again as he looked at the quickly darkening sky. “Grandma!” he yelled, though still she didn’t turn around. What was going on with her?
Didn’t she hear him? The wind was getting stronger, but it wasn’t so strong that she couldn’t hear his call. Kellen finally made it to the gazebo, his feet hitting the wood hard, and with the clatter of rubber against wood his grandmother finally turned around with a start, her expression one of shock mixed with bewilderment. She quickly masked it by giving Kellen a warm smile. “Sweetheart, you’re home already? I didn’t expect you back for another hour or so.”
Kellen knelt at his grandmother’s feet, taking both of her hands in his, immediately noticing how cool they were despite it being early May, with the day’s chill just coming on. He reached up and touched her cheek, which was just as cool. “Grandma, it’s now after seven. I’m actually home later than I thought I would be. What are you doing out here? How long have you been sitting here? And don’t tell me you haven’t had any dinner yet.”
In response to Kellen’s rapid-fire line of questioning, he saw his grandmother’s eyes cloud over a bit and turn just a little uncharacteristically hard. She gently slid her hands from his and started to rise. “Don’t go looking at me like that, Mr. Kellen. I just came out to get a little bit of air and lost track of time, the day is so beautiful. And as for dinner, I don’t have much of an appetite.” She looked at him more closely. “But it’s after seven like you said and you must be starving. What is wrong with me? I should at least put something on for you. Come on, let’s go inside and let me get you something cooked up.”
At that Kellen made a face. His grandmother, for all her wonderful talent, had never been one to be quick as a whiz in the kitchen. Her specialties were usually things like bacon sandwiches and pigs in a blanket. Though she could grill a mean steak and her spaghetti Bolognese was top notch, when he thought of meals in this house, it was less about the food and more about the folks.
It turned out that Kellen’s grandfather was the genius cook of the family. His grandmother always used to go around bragging about how she’d found quite the catch in Henry Kilborn, his talents being useful in multiple rooms about the house. The fact that she stated this all over town, from Jolie’s bar to the ladies’ auxiliary, made her enviable far and wide, and he supposed she didn’t mind the fact that she kept tongues wagging about her. “Better you control the word on the street instead of it controlling you, Kel,” he could hear her say. She’d had a point there.
They made it inside just before the sky opened up after a crack of thunder and Kellen tried not to think about his grandmother getting caught out in the rain if he hadn’t gotten home at the time he had. He knew it would do him no good arguing with her about being out, getting caught in the rain and falling sick. No good at all.
His grandmother was always fiercely independent, no matter if she and his grandfather relied terribly on each other for all the years together. Hearing from Kellen that she may need a bit of help would only cause animosity between the two of them, and right now, he didn’t need any more than what they had going.
He watched as his grandmother went from the refrigerator to the pantry and back again, making faces and frustrated noises.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just that the day got away from me more than I anticipated, and I should’ve ordered some groceries from Cartland’s to prepare for your dinner tonight. I’m not really seeing anything here that you’d like to have, sweetheart.”
Kellen went over to the fridge, opened i
t, and gave it a longer look than he had that morning. There was some juice, a couple of eggs, cream for coffee, and not much else. He wanted to kick himself for not noticing earlier how sparse things were. This was by no means the stocked fridge he was used to seeing at home in Sugar Lake. Looking toward the back, Kellen spied a few tinfoil dishes and plastic ware containers. Pulling them out, it was clear they were the remains of condolence cake and deepest regrets casseroles from his grandfather’s memorial the month before. Kellen quickly went to dump the dishes in the trash only to have his grandmother gasp and still his hand.
“What in the world are you doing?”
Kellen looked at her wide eyed. “What do you think I’m doing—throwing these away as they’re over a month old. It’s not like we can eat them. One bite of this and we’ll both end up in the ER.”
His grandmother skirted around him, pushing him out of the way and reverently emptying the containers out into plastic bags, then putting the plastic containers into the sink.
Kellen covered his nose from the smell of the old food.
Still his grandmother gave him a harsh glare. “Goodness, one would think I raised you in a barn or something. How do you think I can go and throw away perfectly good Tupperware? You know I have to return these to Mrs. Reese and Mrs. Barnett. If I don’t, my name will be mud from here down to Claxton and back.” She shook her head at him, giving a tsk.
Kellen shook his head. “Grandma, those are not Tupperware. They are barely from the ninety-nine-cent store if that. To save us the smell we could have thrown them away and returned them new and better ones.”
His grandmother balked. “What? And come off as uppity? Now please. I know I’ve been out of the city for plenty of years, but even you know that’s just not how it’s done. Don’t go getting ahead of yourself now, Kellen.”
Kellen felt his eyes go skyward as his stomach grumbled. This was clearly another one he wasn’t going to win. “Yes, ma’am.”
Finally his grandmother smiled.
“Oh well, what are we going to do about dinner tonight? I’m sorry, honey, I should’ve been prepared.”
Kellen reached out and ruffled the top of his grandmother’s curls, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. She really was so darned cute to him at times. “What are you sorry about, Grandma? I know you, and I should’ve called when I was on the way into town and asked what you wanted.” He was this close to saying it was what his grandfather would have done, but luckily, he stopped himself before the words came out. Still though, by the slight stiffening of his grandmother’s back and ever so subtle change that came over her, he could tell she was thinking the same thing. Kellen soldiered on. He looked out the window at the hard-driving rain. “How about I give the pizzeria a call and we can do a little takeout tonight. By the time I call it in and it’s done, I’m sure the rain will have let up. This is Sugar Lake. These storms pass through quickly.”
His grandmother shook her head. “I can do you one better. Since we’ve gotten so many tourists into town, things have fancied up.” She waved her phone. “Have a thing here and I press it and old Cletus will deliver from any of the restaurants in town. He’s turned his pickup into a Buber and a food delivery truck.”
Kellen frowned, then shook his head with a smile. “A Buber, Grandma? You mean an Uber?”
His grandmother rolled her eyes. “Same difference, Kellen. You know exactly what I mean and don’t go making fun of me. Either way, I just press this little button and I have all the menus I want with only a few swipes.” She tapped away, then waved her phone triumphantly. It was as if the moon landing had just taken place and instead of Buzz Aldrin, it was old Cletus taking one giant step for mankind.
Chapter 10
Waitress
“Third time’s the charm?”
“I don’t know about that, but it’s nice to see that you’re counting, Boots,” Kellen said as he sauntered into Goode’N Sweet.
Drea snorted to herself as she stepped back, giving him free passage into the shop that morning. She looked down at her moto boots, today paired with a tank and just above the ankle jeans. Sure, maybe she should invest in some new sneakers or a pair or two of sandals, but she liked her boots. They reminded her of her days hitting the audition pavement back in New York. When she was wearing them she felt grounded, and goodness knew she could use all the grounding she could get, especially when the Suit came a-calling.
She looked up at him as he passed, fighting against the smile that threatened to escape her lips. She decided he didn’t need unnecessary smiles. He probably got plenty of them anyway. So many smiles from so many women that they were probably commonplace, which was why he was so stingy with them. At least to her. Not that it mattered.
“So, can I get you your usual today?” Drea asked. Kellen was seemingly already deep in thought and not quite listening to her as he started off toward his usual spot at the back table with the good view. Speaking of, her current view of him wasn’t so bad. The Suit wasn’t in a suit at all. He was completely out of his previously exposed character and wearing a tank that showed off well-defined muscles and a pair of loose gym shorts that highlighted his strong calves in just the right way. It was her basketball dreams come true and made her want to scream at him to get the heck out of her head and wake her from this walking provocation.
Before sitting, Suit turned back her way, embarrassing her for being caught staring and startling her by turning too quickly. “What, are you in a rush or something? Maybe I wanted something different this morning.”
Her brows drew together and she looked at him hard.
Just then his phone buzzed and Drea continued to stare. Kellen looked down at the phone and then back up at her. “Yes?” he said.
“Well?” she replied.
“Well, what?”
“Well, what different thing do you want, Suit?”
He frowned, then seemed to ponder with the phone buzzing again as if asking it the question too. He let out a huff. “The usual,” he ground out in frustration, and Drea would have been offended by his dismissive tone if not for the distraction of the other customers entering after him.
She smiled and welcomed Clayton Morris and his daughter, Hope. Like the loyal sister she was, Drea wouldn’t comment on the normally spry Clayton’s obvious dark circles. A perfect match to the set of luggage under her sister Liv’s eyes. Nope, no comment there. She’d just take a guess that the view of the moon must have been lovely over the lake last night from out by Clayton’s old fishing shack.
Drea instead turned her attention to twelve-year-old Hope, who was growing lovelier by the day. “Good morning, Hope. What are you doing in so early this morning?”
Hope gave Drea a smile, though her pretty brown eyes still showed the edges of tiredness too. “I’m going in with my dad to work today,” she said with a yawn. “We’re doing reports on careers in school.”
“Wow, that’s so nice that you chose your dad to study. Very cool. And it’s also cool that you can get the day off from school in order to study him.”
“I don’t know how cool it is,” her father, Clayton Morris, said from over her shoulder. “Well, the report part is pretty cool, but it’s not like she’s studying her dear old dad today. But I guess I won’t be too jealous that she didn’t choose me.”
Drea raised a brow and gave Hope a conspiratorial grin. “So who did you choose?”
Hope looked at her sheepishly, then looked over at her dad, then back at her. “I chose Avery Brooks. I figure she’s got a pretty rocking job being the only female on a crew full of fire-fighting men. And she’s a paramedic too, so that’s kind of interesting to me. Imagine putting out fires and getting to stick tubes down people’s throats.”
Drea pulled a face. “Yeah, I guess I can imagine it. But I agree, Avery is totally badass. I’ll definitely give her that.”
Just then Aunt Joyce came out while a couple of the usual patrons came in. Aunt Joyce came from behind the counter and hugged
Hope before greeting Clayton, the rest of the patrons, and then Kellen.
“Hey, looks like you’re staying around with us for a bit, huh?” Aunt Joyce asked Kellen matter-of-factly.
“I don’t know about that, Miss Joyce. I’m just here for as long as it takes to get things straight with my grandmother. Though it seems she’s wasting no time in passing the word around.”
Drea stilled. What did Aunt Joyce mean by staying and when did she know about this? I swear, did blood over friendship mean anything to her and Mrs. Betty? What did she know and how long was the Suit staying in town?
She perked her ears hard while trying to look mildly uninterested as Kellen continued. “But if that means for a bit, I guess it’s for a bit. Looks like I’ll be doing a little telecommuting,” he said as his gaze slipped over to Drea.
Drea shrugged. “Hey, that’s your business. From what I’ve seen so far, looks like we’ll be fine without you—no need telecommuting. Don’t let us and the theater project hold you up.”
By way of an answer, he just gave her a hard stare.
“Well, if you’re going to be around for a while, why don’t you join us for dinner at Jolie’s one night? It will be good to catch up with you. It’s been too long since we got in a game of pool,” Clayton Morris said, reaching past Drea to shake Kellen’s hand.
Drea tried to hide both the shock and annoyance. So Clayton knew the Suit too? Darn these small towns. Even people who looked like they’d never know each other knew each other.
Too Sweet to Be Good Page 11
