by Brenda Novak
That was true, too. In certain ways. How had she missed it?
Grace hadn’t expected Kennedy Archer’s son to be running around on his own at eight years old—that was how! She hadn’t expected Kennedy Archer’s son to be allowed to get dirty or rip out his knees or mow other people’s lawns. But most of all, she hadn’t expected to like anyone so closely related to Kennedy Archer.
“Why isn’t someone watching you?” she asked. She was trying to curb her disappointment, to hide it—but that wasn’t easy.
“I told you, my grandma watches me.”
“She can’t. She lives out of town, down by the—”
“She moved,” he broke in. “A long time ago.”
“Where?”
“Around the block.”
“What?”
“Grandpa wanted to be closer to the bank,” he explained.
Around the block. Closer to the bank. Of course. It all made sense. Teddy had lost his mother, so someone had to watch him during the day. Why not Grandma Archer?
Which meant…
Grace pressed her fingers to her temples. That had been Kennedy in the black SUV the morning she’d been caught unawares. He’d probably been dropping his boys off at his mother’s house and gotten quite an eyeful.
“Oh, boy,” she muttered, dropping into her seat.
After several long seconds, Teddy tentatively tapped her on the shoulder. “Grace?”
“What?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, of course not,” she said, but she didn’t know what she was going to do. She couldn’t hang out with Kennedy’s son. Kennedy might’ve let her go last night, but she was pretty sure none of this was over yet.
“What’s wrong, then?” he asked.
She rubbed a hand over her face. “Um…I just need some time to think, okay, Teddy? Why don’t you…” Her mind grasped for something that might make him happy and buy her some time. “Why don’t you take all the cookies home with you? And…and we’ll talk later, okay?”
“You don’t like me anymore,” he accused.
As she looked into his troubled face, her heart threatened to break. “Teddy, that’s not it at all. You see, your father and I…we’ve never been friends.”
“He thinks you’re nice.”
“No, he doesn’t. We…I can’t believe he’d even allow you to be here. He doesn’t know about it, does he?”
“He knows,” Teddy insisted. “He said to thank you for the lasagna. And he asked me to bring him some more cookies. He loves your cookies.”
She’d made dinner for Kennedy and his sons last night. She’d thought she was sending food to a poverty-stricken family with a darling little boy who needed her. She hadn’t realized she was wasting her time and effort on the likes of Kennedy Archer, who could buy his children the best of everything.
“He even said you could go camping with us,” Teddy added, as if that might help.
Camping again. Grace couldn’t imagine that Kennedy had plans to invite her anywhere. “Teddy, you have a family who loves you and takes good care of you. You don’t need me.”
Tears filled his eyes. “I’m never coming back here!” he cried and ran away.
Numb, Grace sat staring at the food spread out on the table before her, and thought about the books she’d planned to check out at the library. Teddy had never heard of Lemony Snicket. She’d wanted to read him the whole “Series of Unfortunate Events.”
But she was running into too many unfortunate events of her own.
His mother was calling—again. Sometimes Kennedy wished he could go through a whole day without being interrupted by her. She always had some complaint or suggestion. If Rodney Granger had surplus peaches on his trees, she called to see if he and the boys wanted to go pick a few pounds. She called to let him know she’d be renting a carpet-cleaning machine and to ask if he’d like to borrow it. She called to tell him she’d won him another vote whenever she convinced a Vicki Nibley supporter to switch sides. For the most part, it was pretty thoughtful stuff. It was just…constant. Sometimes she made him feel claustrophobic. But there wasn’t much he could do, since she was watching his boys every day. He certainly didn’t want to leave them with anyone else. Maybe his mother wasn’t the most soft-spoken person in the world, but she was very responsible. And she was family. If Raelynn’s death and his father’s cancer had taught him anything, it was to value those relationships.
Stifling a sigh, he pushed the Talk button on his phone because he knew she’d only call back if he didn’t. If she reached his voice mail twice in a row, she called his secretary and started tracking him down that way. “Hello?”
“Kennedy?”
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
“What’s wrong now?”
“Teddy’s upset.”
“Why? Did he get in trouble for coming home late again?”
“No. He came home early. But he went straight to the tree house and won’t come out. Something happened while he was over at that woman’s house.”
Grace. Besides Irene, Grace was the only one his mother called “that woman.” “Do you know what it could be?”
“He won’t say.”
The disapproval in her tone screamed, “I told you he shouldn’t have been allowed over there!”
“Put him on the phone.”
Kennedy waited several minutes. He was beginning to believe his mother wasn’t able to coax Teddy into talking to him when his son finally picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, buddy. What’s going on?”
“I’m not in trouble,” he grumbled sullenly. “I came home on time.”
“I know,” Kennedy said. “I’m just calling to see what happened at Grace’s today.”
“Nothing happened.”
“When I drove past her place at lunch, the stand was up, but you two weren’t around. Didn’t you open the shop?”
“We opened it for a little while, but—” his voice cracked “—she doesn’t want me over there. She doesn’t like me anymore.”
Kennedy remembered them reading together at the patio table. “What makes you think that?”
“She told me to take all the cookies and go home.”
“Maybe she was tired and wanted to have a nap.”
“She wasn’t tired.”
Kennedy switched the phone to his other ear. “How do you know?”
“Because I told her you were my dad.”
He sat up straighter. “She hadn’t figured that out?”
Silence.
“Teddy?”
“I couldn’t tell her, Dad. She wants Vicki Nibley to be the next mayor.”
“So why’d you tell her today?”
“I wanted to wait till you could ask her to go camping. But Mrs. Reese came to buy some peaches and said Grandma wouldn’t like me being there.”
It was easy for Kennedy to picture the old battle-ax doing that. Grace had been in her English class, too. She’d sat in the back corner, where Joe’s girlfriend threw spit-wads at her and Mrs. Reese wondered aloud why Clay’s little sister couldn’t keep up with the rest of the class. “I’m sure that went over big.”
Teddy sniffed. “I don’t think she likes Mrs. Reese.”
“Probably not.” Kennedy could certainly understand. Mrs. Reese was a busybody who took too many liberties in dispensing advice. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
There was a momentary lull in the conversation, but when Teddy spoke again, Kennedy heard a surge of hope in his voice. “Dad?”
“What?”
“Do you think you could go over to Grace’s and show her that you’re a nice guy?” he asked plaintively.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah! She said you’ve never been friends. But you could say you’re sorry.”
“Teddy—”
“You made me say I’m sorry to Parker McNally, even though he hit me first.”
“You bloodied his nose.”
“He started it—but you said sometimes being big enough to say you’re sorry is more important than who started it.”
“This is different.”
“How? You want to be friends with Grace, don’t you?”
Kennedy had walked right into that one. “Of course I do. It’s just…I don’t know, bud.”
“Come on, Dad. We were going to open the stand every day next week. And camping won’t be any fun without her.”
Kennedy rested his head in one hand. “Teddy—”
“Please, Dad? She’s my best friend.”
Kennedy’s heart felt as if it had jumped into his throat. He couldn’t speak. Teddy used to say his mother was his best friend.
“Daddy? Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Will you do it? For me? Please?”
Kennedy took a deep breath, then let the air seep slowly between his lips. “Sure,” he said at last. “I’ll go over there.”
“Be really nice, okay? And when you ask her to go camping, tell her we’re going to make s’mores. She’ll like that.”
Kennedy wasn’t convinced Grace would even let him speak to her. “My going over there might not make any difference.”
“It will,” his son said, happy again, and disconnected.
Kennedy hung up the phone. He was sorry about what’d happened in high school. Terribly sorry. He felt he should apologize to Grace. But he was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to hear it.
9
When she came to the door, Grace was wearing a white cotton blouse that contrasted nicely with her olive skin, a long red, orange and pink skirt with a bracelet around one narrow ankle and no shoes. Kennedy caught a glimpse of the shiny pink polish that covered her toenails, thought how delicate and feminine her feet looked, and wanted to continue to stare at the ground rather than face the scratches on her cheek from last night and the wary expression in her eyes. But he owed her an apology and, although it had taken Teddy to motivate him to deliver it, he was glad to finally be here.
“Hi.” He’d already loosened his tie. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, he stepped back so she wouldn’t feel threatened by him in any way.
She hovered by the door as if she might need to lock him out at a moment’s notice, so he doubted his attempt to convince her that she was safe had much effect.
“Hello,” she said, her voice far more uncertain than welcoming.
Kennedy attempted a charming grin and jerked his head toward the stand she’d erected in the front yard. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Got any more peaches?”
Her eyes focused briefly on the stand. “You’re here to buy peaches?” she asked skeptically.
“Not really,” he admitted.
She raked one hand through the layers of her hair, which fell loose around her shoulders. “You’ve come about last night.”
The tone of her voice seemed to add “at last.” But he still didn’t know what to think about the Bible he’d found. Or what to do with it. “No.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“It’s Teddy. He called me a few minutes ago.”
Her chest lifted as though she’d just drawn a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I would never purposely take my feelings about you and your friends out on a child.”
He winced. She hated him enough that not doing so required conscious effort?
Of course she did. But realizing it didn’t make an apology any easier.
“I wouldn’t have let him in if I’d known,” she added, clearly trying to reassure him that it was an innocent mistake. “Anyway, he’ll get over the disappointment. He and I barely know each other. In the future, just…just tell him whatever you think—that I’m not a good influence. And maybe for a week or two, I’ll hold off reopening Evonne’s stand. That way I won’t be so visible to him.”
Stepping closer, he put a hand on the door. To his surprise, she didn’t try to close it.
“Grace, I’m sorry.”
She inched backward in an obvious attempt to put more space between them. “For what? Teddy was no trouble.”
“I’m not talking about Teddy. He had my permission to come over here. I figured he would’ve told you by now that he’s my son. Or someone else would. Anyway, I’m sorry for what I did—and didn’t do—in high school.”
“I don’t want to talk about high school,” she said. “What happened then, happened. You can celebrate the letters you received in football and basketball and baseball. You can line up your prom pictures and your report cards and smile proudly. But I…I was stupid and desperate and…” She let her words dwindle away. “I just want to forget those years.”
“Does that mean you won’t forgive me?” he asked.
Several lines creased her forehead as she stared past him. “Will you give back what you took last night?” she asked, focusing on him again.
What did he say now? If she was involved in the reverend’s death and he returned that Bible to her, he’d be aiding in the cover-up. If he took it to the police, he could be consigning her to who knew what kind of hell. Yet he couldn’t keep it. He didn’t want anything to do with it. If anyone ever found it, he’d have to explain where it came from.
Could he trust her? He couldn’t say, not without knowing her better. “Will you go camping with me and the boys this weekend?” he asked instead of responding.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Teddy’s really counting on it.” Kennedy wanted her to go, too. But he doubted she’d believe him even if he admitted it.
“No, of course not,” she said. “I mean…unless…” She stopped, lowered her voice. “Are you offering me a trade?”
“For the Bible?” He hated to use it as leverage. He generally didn’t have to bribe women. But he needed to understand Grace better in order to decide how to handle what he knew.
“Will you give it to me if I go with you this weekend?”
He could always bring it along and give it back to her there, where they had plenty of privacy—if, ultimately, that was the decision he made. But he couldn’t promise anything. “That’ll depend.”
“On what?”
“On how things go.”
Her lip curled in disgust. “God, you’re even more like Joe than I thought.”
“I’m nothing like Joe!” he snapped.
“Oh, yeah? Well, I can already tell you how things will ‘go.’ I won’t sleep with you, Kennedy. Not for anything.”
“I wasn’t implying—” He stretched his neck as the full impact of her words sank in. “Wow, you really know how to hurt a guy’s ego, you know that? Sleeping with me would be that distasteful to you?”
“I won’t leave myself vulnerable to you. I don’t care if you’re going to be the next president of the United States. Those days are over.”
“I wasn’t trying to—” He paused. “I’m not asking for anything physical. It’s just a camping trip, okay? It’ll last three days and two nights. The boys will be there. You’ll have your own tent.”
Her expression softened slightly. “So this really is for Teddy?”
“More or less.”
“You won’t touch me?”
He let his gaze linger on her face. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
“And you’ll give me the Bible?”
He’d consider it—for the price of an explanation. But he didn’t add that. “Maybe.”
Maybe was better than nothing. It could be her only chance to recover it. When she answered, he knew she recognized that. “Okay. I’ll go.”
“Good.” He walked away but turned back when he reached his SUV. “I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Should I bring some food or—”
“I’ll take care of everything,” he said and left.
Grace watched through the window as Kennedy Archer pulled out of her drive. A camping trip. He wanted her to go into the woods with him and his boys. B
ut she wasn’t completely convinced it was wise to accompany him anywhere. She didn’t like the strange emotions he evoked—the simmering attraction of old, the searing disappointment and embarrassment for her actions in high school, the burning resentment, anger, even humiliation she still felt. But she was fairly confident he wouldn’t touch her if he said he wouldn’t. And she had to get hold of that Bible.
Besides, she felt terrible about how she’d treated Teddy. He was too young to understand the complexity of her feelings toward his father and had taken her reaction to the news that he was an Archer as a personal rejection.
Her cell phone rang. Turning away from the window, she rushed to answer, hoping it was George. He hadn’t called her since they’d spoken this morning.
“Any word on what went missing last night?” Clay asked.
Grace reeled in her disappointment. “Kennedy Archer has it.”
“He told you so?”
“Basically.”
There was a long silence. “Has he taken it to the police?”
“Not yet. I think he might give it back to me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
Grace heard Clay turn down the TV, which had been blaring in the background. “Why would he do that?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll be able to tell you more on Monday.”
“What’s happening this weekend?”
“I’m going camping with him.”
This information met with another prolonged silence, then her brother repeated, “You’re going camping with Kennedy Archer.”
“Crazy, I know.”
“What about George?”
Grace lowered the blind against the sweltering heat. “Mom tell you about him?”
“Molly did, too. They said you were hoping to marry him. You think I don’t know anything about your life?”
George had been acting so strange lately, she wasn’t sure they were still together.
“I think we’ve broken up,” she said.
“You’re not sure?”
“No. Anyway, camping with Kennedy isn’t a date.”
“What would you call it?”
“An…outing with the kids.”
“I can’t imagine Kennedy Archer taking you camping with his boys unless he’s interested in you.”
