It had taken days of wrangling prices back and forth with Sesser’s daughter, Claire, before he’d signed a yearlong contract to dock his boat there, but all the hassle was worth Kendall’s reaction.
The front door flew open and Evan jogged into the shop, still wearing his heavy tool belt. He stopped a few feet from them as his gaze bounced from Kendall to Brice to Laura. He shook his head, smiling. “Here I think I’m running to the rescue. I heard a scream and figured poor Kendall is next door all alone and some spider or mole got into her place and she needs help.” Evan sauntered closer. “Instead I find my entire family hanging out with her when I’m only twenty feet on the other side of that wall.” He laughed. “Shows how I rate.”
“Aw.” Laura jumped up and gave him a hug. “You know we love you.”
“You’ll have to tell me your secret, Kendall.” Evan draped his arm over their sister’s shoulders and pulled her tight against his side.
Obviously not realizing Evan was joking, Kendall worked her bottom lip between her teeth. “We didn’t plan to exclude you. I didn’t know they were stopping by or—”
Brice slung his arm around Kendall’s waist. “Sorry, Ev. She’s prettier than you, man.”
Kendall, Laura and Evan spent the next twenty minutes teasing each other and talking about their plans for the Venetian Festival. Brice hung back out of the conversation in order to soak the moment in. He couldn’t remember a time in the recent past when his siblings had been so happy together. Not just his siblings, but him too. The burden on his shoulders felt lighter today. With a sigh, he pulled Kendall a little closer to his side and thanked God for the changes in his life.
Chapter Eleven
For his mother to call him, she must have been desperate.
Brice put his car in Park and unbuckled his seat belt, but stayed in the vehicle. Paint peeled off the sides of his parents’ home and the roof sagged; it looked as though it was leaking through in four or five places. Water was probably causing major structural damage. Creeping Charlie along with a host of other weeds had taken over the front yard.
The worst decision he and Evan ever made was to help his parents finally purchase their childhood home from Sesser Atwood. It burned Brice to admit it, but his mom and dad had been better off continuing to rent the property from Atwood. At least then repairs came out of the tycoon’s pocket. When they were still renting, Sesser was constantly threatening to have them thrown out. Then again, the man had a right to, since Brice’s dad was always months behind on paying. Brice sighed. Sometimes it was difficult to know what the right or best choice was, even in retrospect.
He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before finally shoving out of the car. He grabbed his toolbox from the truck and then made his way around the cracked asphalt to their front door. The four wooden steps up to their porch groaned under his weight. Rotted.
His mother opened the door for him, a scowl causing her to appear more wrinkled than she was. “I wasn’t going to call you.” She trailed after him as he picked his way through the front room and made a beeline toward their laundry room.
In the past ten years his mother had slowly become what could only be classified as a hoarder. Some rooms contained only a narrow walking path, while in others he had to crunch over clothing and trash to pass through. A ball of frustration formed in his gut. His sister shouldn’t have to live like this. He needed to talk to Laura. Convince her to move in with him for the rest of her high school career and then help her fill out applications for financial aid for colleges. She had to leave town, get away from their parents. He wouldn’t let them hold her back.
His mother kept following him. “But your father’s been MIA for the past few weeks and Evan didn’t return my call, so all that was left was you.” Translation: I didn’t want to call you. You were my last choice. Like always.
Brice ground his molars together so hard a pain shot into his temples. “Can you tell me what’s been happening with the washer again?”
She detailed the sounds the washing machine had been making and showed him where water pooled on the floor behind it. He’d fixed the same washer twice already. It was long past life support.
Brice rubbed his palm back and forth against his jawline. “With all the problems this one has given you, I could just buy you a new one. One that wouldn’t—”
“We’re not starting on that. Not again.” She folded her arms. “If you came here to tell me my belongings don’t meet your standards, then you can just go right on back home.”
Tightness pulled across his chest. “Mom, you know it’s not like that.”
For a moment their eyes met and she glared at him, hard and cold. Why? Why did she insist on believing the worst about him? Why couldn’t she be proud? Why couldn’t she love him? Throat burning, he swallowed his words and held her gaze.
She shuffled away without another word, so he went to work taking the machine apart. Brice used the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his forehead. The small, closed room he worked in was heating like a tin can left out in the sunshine. Ants marched in a line by the hundreds along the opposite wall. He tried not to consider what other critters might infest their home. Bugs and vermin didn’t bother him when they were out in nature, but pests shouldn’t reside in the home his sister lived in.
Thankfully it didn’t take long to find the issue. The rubber on the drive belt was worn and cracked in a few places. It needed to be replaced. A quick trip to a big-box hardware store in the next town over solved the problem. When he returned to his parents’ home, it took only thirty more minutes to install the new belt and put the machine back together.
His mother waited in the front room as he carried out his toolbox. “It should work just fine for you now.”
“Let’s see if this fix lasts any longer than your others did.” She didn’t look up from the year-old magazine she pretended to flip through. Perched on the edge of a ratty chair, she looked fragile. His mother had always been a small woman, but stress and life had worn her down to bones over skin. All sharp points and no padding.
His jaw throbbed from holding in words. He turned to leave but froze. Kendall had faced the troubles she had with her mother, faced them like a trouper. He’d spotted Kendall’s mom near the docks a few times, but Kendall said that after telling her mother about the police report, so far, the woman was leaving her alone. Kendall had taken steps to deal with her past. But here was Brice, avoiding them, staying silent. Coward.
He set his toolbox on the table and faced her. “What...?” He waited until she glanced his way. “What could I have done? When I was a child. What could I have done to be good enough for you to care about me?” The words hurt coming out more than he’d imagined, like removing embedded burrs from skin.
She focused on a spot on the wall and waved her hand in a dismissive manner. “This is just the way life is.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He shouldn’t push her, really he shouldn’t, but at the same time, he needed to hear her reply. He’d never be able to heal until this conversation took place. “Why don’t you like me? What...what could I have done differently...? How could I have made...?” His voice caught. You love me.
“Nothing. There is nothing you could have done.” She blinked rapidly. “Every time I look at you, I see the life I could have had if I hadn’t gotten pregnant with you.” She looked down at the magazine. “My life would have been better. There were other men pursuing me. Men besides your father. But then you came along.” She shrugged.
That’s not my fault. I was only a child. He choked back the words racing through his mind. Saying them wouldn’t help. He’d gotten his answer. Nothing. Nothing would have made him measure up. There was nothing he could accomplish that would make him good enough for her. Nothing he did would ever matter to her.
She scanned the room and heaved a sigh. “
My life could have been so much better than this.”
Brice grabbed the handle of his toolbox, letting the cold metal press hard against his hand. “You’re right, Mom. Your life could have been better, but not how you think.” She didn’t look up, but he pressed on anyway. “See, you could have had a son who adored you, if only you’d allowed me to love you. But you didn’t, and that has nothing to do with Dad.” He pulled open the door but then glanced over his shoulder, waiting. If she asked for forgiveness, if she said she was sorry, he’d cross the room in three steps and hug her. But she wore a mask of indifference.
Brice rushed out to his car and jammed his key into the ignition. He drove home, hoping to find comfort in the solitude of his cabin. Instead he found loneliness. And one question pounded over and over in his head.
Would he ever matter—really matter—to anyone?
* * *
Kendall looped her arm through her friend Maggie West’s and scanned the packed crowd at the Venetian Festival.
Freebie booths and an area with kids’ games took up the left half of the parklike town square. The roses in the small garden that lined the far edge of the square were a riot of pink and yellow and red in full bloom. Fragrant flowers mixed with the delicious scent of fried goodies wafting from the food trucks parked around the square. Kendall might have to snag a fried Oreo later. Her mouth watered in agreement.
A performing group from one of the nearby colleges played swing-style dance music in the red band shell. Couples and young children danced near the gazebo under arches of hanging white Christmas lights. Teenagers lounged on the park benches, tossing candy at each other and snapping photos on their cell phones.
Kendall huddled in a group of local women made up of Maggie West, Paige and Shelby Beck, and Jenna Crest but continued to search the park benches and shadowed areas of the party for signs of Laura Daniels. After Brice’s sister had stopped by for advice, Kendall felt the need to protect the girl from any more of Drew Foster’s influence. In fact, Kendall had filled out a volunteer sheet at church during a midweek meeting to start serving in the youth group. If she could use her story, if sharing her mistakes and showing love to the teenagers in this community saved even one of them from following the same path she had, then being open with all of them would be worth it. But for now, if she spotted Laura getting cozy with the boy, she wouldn’t hesitate to drag Brice’s sister away. Even if that meant Laura disliking her.
But there were too many people at the event to spot familiar faces unless, as she’d done with her friends from Bible study, she picked a spot at the party to meet up at. Tourists spilled onto the bricked road around the square and filtered in and out of the art gallery, homemade fudge shop, ice-cream parlor and other stores that had extended their hours to stay open during the event.
Since it was the final night of the Venetian Festival and the sun was beginning to set, people were starting to make their way down to Ring Beach, which lay just off the square. The parade of decorated boats was set to start in the next half hour, and it would be followed by a small fireworks show. A string of bonfires on the beach, organized by the Goose Harbor Chamber of Commerce, drew people down to the sandy shore like bugs to a porch light.
Paige pointed at the beach. “We should stake out our spot near one of the fires before they get super crowded. I’m determined to roast the best marshmallow.”
Jenna nodded. “The s’mores are always epic.”
Kendall laughed. “How exactly can s’mores be more epic than they already are? I mean, it’s pretty hard to top the amazingness that is melted marshmallows and chocolate.”
Maggie nudged her in the ribs. “They have all kinds of extras you can add, like using peanut butter cups instead of chocolate or adding hazelnut spread, strawberries or caramel to them.”
Paige groaned as she placed both her hands on her baby bump. “You guys sure know how to torture a pregnant lady. Now I want all of them.”
Jenna threw her arms wide and hollered, “Make way for the hungry pregnant lady!” The nearby band drowned out her call, but the group of friends had a good laugh all the same. Shelby broke off from the group when she spotted her boyfriend, Joel, and Maggie ducked away as she spotted Kellen and his daughters near the water’s edge playing in the sand. Kellen had set up a cooler and a blanket, saving his family a prime spot to view the fireworks.
Kendall grabbed Paige’s arm, helping her walk steadily through the uneven patches of sand. Paige patted her arm and then glanced Jenna’s way, smiling. “Guess you ladies are stuck with me. Caleb’s down the beach playing flag football with a group of the high school boys.”
Jenna jutted her chin in the direction of the football players. “He’s already such a great teacher. He’s going to be the best dad.”
Paige wrapped her arms around both Kendall and Jenna. “I want you both to know that I pray for you daily. For both of you to feel pursued by the endless love of God, and I also pray for both of your future spouses. That God’s preparing men who love Him above all else to be your husbands. I pray that the men who seek after your hearts one day will have spirits that are soft toward the Lord’s will. You are both treasures. Don’t settle for a man who doesn’t cherish you.”
Kendall’s eyes burned as she held in tears. “Thank you,” she whispered and squeezed Paige’s arm before letting go.
For her whole life Kendall had dreamed of people caring about her—wished her mother would have bothered enough to guide her or her father had returned home. While she’d let go of the hope that either of those things would happen, here in Goose Harbor God had brought people into her life who were beginning to love her the way her family should have, people willing to speak into her life and offer a kind word when she appeared down. People like Paige, who had been praying for her without Kendall even asking her to. Had Kendall ever thought to pray for Paige, for anyone else? She would now.
Kendall focused on the flames of the bonfire as they pressed against the edging darkness of evening. Paige had known her for only a few months, and yet she was praying for Kendall’s future husband. Kendall was speechless. When she first met Brice he’d mentioned how God had a way of answering prayers a person hadn’t even prayed yet. Of blessing people with gifts they hadn’t known to ask for.
“I...I have to go take care of something. See you both later?” Kendall stepped away from Paige and Jenna. She slipped out of her sandals and padded down to where the lake lapped peacefully on the edge of Ring Beach and then continued along the water until she was away from the crowd. She wiggled her toes into the wet sand. In one hand she clutched her sandals and the other she used to shield her eyes from the setting sun.
“Thank You,” she quietly prayed. “I don’t know why You keep giving me things I never thought I’d have. Friends. A hopeful career.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “But thank You.” It was all so much. So many blessings.
So much she didn’t deserve.
It was impossible not to wonder when everything would come crashing down, because in Kendall’s life, the crash was a given. There was still the possibility that her mother could ruin everything for her. If Sesser’s partnership became public, her business would go belly-up and she’d never be able to pay him back. Her newfound friends were bound to realize that Kendall didn’t belong in their group; they all seemed perfect, as if they never struggled at all. At some point they’d discover that Kendall didn’t have it all together.
Then there was Brice. He was sweet and kind. While she enjoyed every minute she spent getting to know him, how long could their easy friendship last? Old lies crept into her mind, whispering that he would grow bored with her. That he would leave the way everyone always did.
Last but not least, Kendall didn’t know what to think about God. While she believed in Jesus and was a Christian, she held God at arm’s length. He didn’t want to be involved in her life. Not on a per
sonal, detailed level. That was what she had always thought. But if He was responsible for leading her to Goose Harbor and for her friendships here, how could she deny any longer that He cared about her as an individual?
If God cared like that...that sort of love had the power to change her entire life. Then again, even if she and God shared a moment of peace right now, even that could crumble if she did something wrong. Right? One incorrect step, one foolhardy decision, and God’s blessing and love would vanish. And that was the scariest thought of them all. After feeling loved by God, losing His favor would be heart wrenching. That was how all of Kendall’s relationships always seemed to go, so why would it work any differently with God?
But for now...for now she would savor the moment. During her interview with Jason she’d wondered if she had ever experienced a time when everything in her world was right—a memory worth cherishing. She’d foolishly only considered it in a romantic way, but this—right now—was her first perfect moment, and she’d cherish it, even though it would be gone by the time she tucked herself in bed.
Kendall sloshed a few inches deeper into the water, letting it tickle back and forth against her ankles. She hugged herself, fighting a shiver. The lake had cooled down by a surprising amount.
After a few minutes she let out a long breath. It was time to head back and join her friends. She turned around and spotted Paige cuddled next to her husband as they laughed with a group of high school students. Jenna appeared to be deep in conversation with an elderly lady as they roasted marshmallows together. Which was fine; Kendall didn’t feel like returning to the party. She’d had enough large group interaction for one day. The condo she was renting was a short walk down the beach. Instead of navigating her way through the crowd on Ring Beach and in the town square to get back to her car parked near her office, she would just leave it parked in town and pick it up tomorrow.
Small-Town Girl Page 12
