by Jiffy Kate
“I’d like to think so. It’s what makes a good businessman. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Flanders?” I turn my attention back to her father, because Samantha is barking up a dangerous tree and I need to keep my eye on the prize.
“Well, yes, I would. We can’t win them all, but we should go into each fight thinking we will.”
“Fake it till you make it,” I tell him, repeating the words I’ve heard from my father since I graduated college and started working for him.
“That’s right, son.” Mr. Flanders chuckles and the conversation turns all business.
We throw figures around for the next hour. Samantha gets bored after the first ten minutes, but continues to try to interject herself into the conversation. It’s useless. Her father commandeers the table, allowing me to speak when needed.
In the end, we agree to a number and the deal is pretty much signed, sealed, and delivered.
“How about dinner tonight?” Samantha asks. “I’m sure we can have the papers drawn up this afternoon and be ready to close the deal by this evening.”
I know what she’s doing. I’ve seen her in action plenty of times over the years to know her tactics and it’s not going to work. I want nothing to do with Samantha Flanders, especially concerning dinner or any other non-business venture.
“I have plans this evening, but if you’ll have them couriered tomorrow, I’ll have them signed and sent back before the week is over.”
The indignation from earlier is back and I can see the wheels in her head turning.
“How is Candy?” she asks with a saccharine sweet smile.
Her father busies himself with his briefcase, ignoring her question. Knowing him, his mind is probably already on the next meeting or business transaction.
“Do you mean Kadance?” I ask.
“Yes, Kadance. We had such a lovely visit at the gala. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her around before. Where does she work?”
I can tell by her tone and the expression on her face that she’s baiting me. Honestly, I can’t stand hearing Kadi’s name come out of Samantha’s mouth. I want to tell her to forget she ever heard it and to never bring her up again. Kadi’s mine. Or she was. And I don’t want to share anything about her with the likes of Samantha Flanders.
“Kadi is of no concern to you,” I tell her in a hushed tone, even though I’m sure this will be repeated to her father on their way back to the office. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. “I know what you said to her. I know what game you’re playing. I think you forget that I know you just as well as you think you know me. So, if I were you, I’d keep my nose where it belongs, firmly up your father’s ass, and leave the rest alone.”
The smile on my face is nothing like the one I wore coming in here—it’s threatening, daring her to say one cross word about Kadi or bring up the gala one more time.
The buzz of my phone in my pocket saves the day, giving me the perfect excuse to make my exit.
“Mr. Flanders,” I say, shaking his hand. “It’s been a pleasure, as always.”
“Nathan,” he says in return, giving me a pat on the back. “I’ll have the contract drawn up today.”
“I’ll be expecting it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to return.” Before leaving the room, I give a pointed nod in Samantha’s direction and walk out the door.
I feel her eyes on my back as I return to my office, but I don’t turn around.
When I sit down at my desk, I take a deep breath before pulling my phone out of my pocket to check my missed call.
Kadi’s name on the screen is the last thing I expect to see and my heart races. Between the interaction with Sam and missing Kadi’s call, I feel like throwing my phone against the wall and watching it shatter into a dozen pieces.
“Fuck,” I groan, pushing away from my desk and opening my voice mail in hopes that she left a message.
Something.
Anything to let me know it wasn’t an accident and that she really meant to call me… and hopefully not to tell me she hates me or she never wants to talk to me again. Anything besides that, I can work with.
Just a little hope, Kadi. That’s all I ask.
When I see that there’s a thirty second message waiting on me, my heart is no longer racing, it’s about to pound right out of my chest. Pushing the play button, I wait.
Her sweet voice comes over the phone and I want to crawl inside my phone and get to her. I know that sounds crazy and foolish, but I’m kind of crazy about her and pretty much willing to do anything to be with her.
“Hi, Nathan. It’s me, Kadi… Davis. I, uh, was just calling to let you know that my mom died.”
My heart drops at that and I switch from wanting to crawl inside my phone to wanting to hold her. I just want to hold her. I know I can’t fix this for her, but I want to be there for her.
“I don’t know why I’m calling to tell you, but you’ve been on my mind since… well, since the night I left you in the hotel. I’m sorry about that. For the way I left. I’m sorry I got scared and ran. I don’t know what I’m doing or saying. I haven’t really slept much lately. But you’re the only person I want to talk to. So, that’s why I called. And I saw where I missed your call, so technically, I’m calling you back.”
There’s a pause, before she says anything else. But it’s the last few words that tear me up inside.
“You know what it’s like to lose a parent, even one that wasn’t good at being a parent, so I thought you’d understand. I’m hoping we can at least be friends when I get back, because I really miss you.”
Without a second thought, I shove my phone back in the pocket of my suit jacket and grab my keys from my desk drawer.
“Nancy, I’ll be out the rest of the day,” I inform her on my way to the elevator.
When the elevator doesn’t move fast enough, I get off and head for the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time until I make it to the parking garage.
Starting up my car, I don’t even know where I’m going, but I know the general direction, so I just drive.
To Kadi.
I need to get to her. I need to help her understand how I really feel about her. I need to be there for her. I need to get to Humble, Texas.
Table 10
About an hour outside of Dallas, I decide to stop to fill up the Jag and get my bearings on exactly where I’m headed.
Standing at the pump, I pull out my phone and pull up a map. If I’m not mistaken, Humble is about a four-hour drive from the city. I have no idea where to go once I’m in town, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Kadi mentioned that her dad owns a car repair shop. There can’t be too many of those. So, I’ll start there.
And then what?
Now that I’ve cooled down from my interaction with Sam and the fact that I missed Kadi’s call, my head is clearer and rational thought is back.
My instincts are telling me to go find her and bring her home. But realistically, I know I can’t do that. She’s grieving and I’m sure her dad needs her, even though I can’t say I’m a fan of him from the few things Kadi’s shared about her childhood. Although, she never mentioned him mistreating her, just that he wasn’t very invested in her life.
But he provided for her, which is more than I can say about some parents.
And I know he calls her from time to time at the diner, so he must care about her well-being.
He obviously cared enough to call about her mother.
Which brings me to my next conundrum: how the hell did the mother Kadi hasn’t seen in years end up back in the town she grew up in?
I really need to talk to Kadi.
Dialing her number, I begin to pace beside the car.
After six rings, I’m getting ready to end the call, when a timid “hello” comes on the other end of the line.
“Kadi?” I ask, bracing my free hand on my knee for support while I wait for her to say something, anything.
“Nathan.” The hint of relief in her voice is all I need to exhale
the breath I’ve been holding.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” I tell her, that being the first thing that comes to mind. Followed closely by I need you, come home… or better yet, stay right where you are, I’m coming to get you. But I don’t say any of that. I wait… for her.
“Thank you.” Her words come out fast and clipped, rehearsed. I don’t like that. I’m used to the genuine Kadi, who says what comes to her mind without thinking too much about it.
“Are you okay?” I ask, because that’s the most important question. The one I really need the answer to before I lose my mind.
“I’m hanging in there.”
That’s a little more genuine, a little more Kadi.
“I’m sorry I missed your call earlier.”
“Well, it was in the middle of the day. I should’ve known you’d be working. But my days are kind of messed up and I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. You know you can call me… anytime. Always. For anything.”
The pause on the other end of the line is almost too much for me to bear. I want her to tell me she knows… she knows I’m here for her, she knows she can ask me for anything and I’ll give it to her. I want to go back to how things were before everything fell apart and she ran out of my life.
“I miss you,” I tell her. I’m not sure I’ve ever said that to another human being. Ever. But it’s because I’ve never missed anyone the way I miss her.
“You do?” she asks and I hear the break in her voice, and then I feel it deep in my bones.
Please don’t cry.
“Of course, I do. Did you open the package I sent you?” I ask, because I told her in the note I included that I missed her. I miss her company, her laugh, her love for bacon, her pies, the way she makes my apartment smell like sugar. I miss all of it.
“Not yet. I brought it with me, though. I’ve been holding onto it, waiting for the right time to open it.”
I laugh a little at that, because that’s the Kadi I know. The girl who does everything on her own terms.
“Well, at least you have it. No pressure.”
“Thanks,” she says and I’d like to think I hear a smile in her tone. I’m going to pretend I do, at least.
We sit in silence for a few seconds, maybe a minute, before I hear some noise in the background coming over the phone.
“Nathan, can I call you back? Maybe tonight?”
“Of course,” I tell her, before thinking about it. “Of course. Call me any time, whenever you want.”
“Okay, I will,” she says. “And, thanks for calling me back and for the package, even though I don’t know what’s in it yet.”
I hear someone on the other end of the line say her name and something inside of me tightens.
“You’re welcome. Take care, okay?”
“Okay.”
She lingers for a few seconds and I want to tell her how I really feel about her… the same words that were on the tip of my tongue the night she walked out of the hotel room, but I decide now isn’t the right time for that.
“I’ll talk to you later.”
It’s a promise, because I will talk to her later.
Climbing back in my car, I start it up and pull back out onto the road… headed north. I’ll give her this time. As long as she’s talking to me and I know she’s safe. I’ll wait. I can be patient… for her.
But there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go.
Chapter 7
Kadi
“Hi, Bobby,” I say, putting my phone safely in my pocket, again feeling like a piece of Nathan is there with me and taking comfort in it.
“Hello,” he says expectantly.
I haven’t seen Bobby in four years, but he hasn’t changed. From the white t-shirt to the dusty boots, he’s still the same. It’s my feelings for him that have changed. I used to get a fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach when he’d walk up the steps to my front door, but today I feel nothing. There might be a hint of nostalgia, like time passing by, but that’s about it.
“I’m sorry about your mama,” he says, leaning against the post of the front porch when I don’t make an attempt to stand and greet him.
“Thank you.” That’s become my rehearsed response to everyone who offers their sympathy and condolence. Truthfully, I’m not very sorry. I don’t know what I am. I haven’t had a chance to really sort my feelings. But I can’t say I’m sorry. My mother gave me plenty of time to get used to her absence. I’ve been feeling that since I was a young girl, so there’s nothing new there.
Maybe I’m sorry about missed opportunities or things that could’ve been, but I don’t want to live in regret. Besides, they're not my regrets to hold onto. I didn’t walk out. I didn’t die.
She did.
“My mama made this casserole and wanted me to bring it by.” He holds up a Tupperware container with a lid on it. I’m going to guess it’s tuna. Bobby’s mom, Mrs. Holden, always used to make tuna casserole.
“Tell her we said thank you,” I tell him, finally standing from the over-sized chair.
Without warning, when I reach for the casserole, Bobby reaches for me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. He smells the same, like dirt and fresh air and a hint of some manly deodorant. It’s familiar and for a second, I let him hug me.
Letting out a deep breath, I gently push away.
“I wondered what it would take to get you back here. I never thought it’d be this. I know you two weren’t close, but it can’t be easy to lose your mom.”
I nod and bite the inside of my cheek, struggling with the mixed emotions coursing through me. The sudden urge to cry causes me to bite down harder.
“But I can’t say I’m sorry,” he says, catching me off guard. “I missed you, Kadi.”
“You didn’t have to,” I tell him. The rawness of my emotions have torn away any semblance of a filter. “You could’ve come with me.”
He laughs harshly, kicking his dirty work boot against the worn wood of the porch.
“Could you picture me in the city? That’s no place for me. No place for you either.” Tipping his head up, he makes eye contact with me.
Bobby always did think he knew what was best for me: what friends I should have, what clothes I should wear, where I should work, what I should do with my future.
If he would’ve had his way, I’d be knocked up with a kid on my hip, while he works the fields with his dad every day. That’s not a bad life, if that’s what you want, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
“It’s not too late for us,” he continues, when I don’t respond. “Now that you’re back home, we can pick up where we left off.”
“I’m going back as soon as I can,” I tell him, squaring my shoulders and gripping the edges of the Tupperware tightly.
“To what? Your diner job?” he asks, incredulity dripping from his words.
“You don’t know anything about me anymore, so don’t pretend like you do.”
“Oh, I know plenty. Your daddy keeps me well informed.”
“Well, it’s none of your business. I’m not your business.”
“You were, still are. We belong together and you know it. We’re good together. You’re just fightin’ it, just like your mama.”
With the mention of my mother, my head snaps up and I fight the urge to throw the tuna casserole I’m holding in his face. “We don’t belong together. You were never good for me. Leaving this town was the best thing that’s happened to me.”
Actually, the best thing that’s happened to me is Nathan Hendricks, but I don’t want to pollute the memories I have of him by bringing him into this.
“You keep tellin’ yourself that,” he says with a contemptuous laugh and a shake of his head. “Mess around too long and I won’t be available when you come cryin’ for me to take you back.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Or do.
“I can’t believe you’d leave your daddy like t
his. The only person who’s been there for you and taken care of you your whole life and you just leave him high and dry when he’s at his lowest. That’s not the Kadi I knew.” He waits for a second, waiting for me to say something in reply, but I don’t. “You know, he’s been really torn up over your mama bein’ sick and I’m sure her dyin’ is gonna be a hard thing for him to get over.”
“He’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine.”
“You keep tellin’ yourself that.”
Rage is slowly taking over the grief I’ve been feeling, like lava rolling down a hill, and all I can picture is my fist making contact with Bobby’s smug face.
Thankfully, my dad pushes open the screen door and sticks his head out. “Bobby,” he says. “I thought I heard you out here. Come on in.”
Holding the screen for him, Bobby brushes past me and joins my dad in the kitchen.
“My mama sent over that tuna casserole you like.”
“That was sweet of her. Kadi and I are gonna be fat as a tick with all this food people keep droppin’ by.” My dad smiles up at me and I see something I hadn’t seen before—hope, peace. The grief and sadness are still there, but with my mother’s passing came closure and he seems different.
Maybe it’s Bobby’s guilt trip, but I start to wonder if my dad thinks I’m staying for good. Surely, he doesn’t. Surely, he knows I’m just home for now, not for good. He knows I have a job and an apartment—a life—back in the city.
“Bobby, tell Kadi about that new mare y’all got a few weeks ago.” My dad whistles, looking over at me. “She’s a pretty one, Kadi. You’d love her.”
I did used to love horses, still do. But it’s been years since I rode one or even been around one. There aren’t many horses in the city.
“Oh, she’s a looker,” Bobby agrees. “You should stop by the farm. I’ll let you take her for a spin. She’s already broken in.” The wink Bobby gives me makes my skin crawl and I level him with a glare when my dad turns to put the casserole in the fridge. I hope it conveys my feelings: never, not in this lifetime or the next.
Table 10
