Hidden Blessings

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Hidden Blessings Page 15

by Kim Cash Tate

“Is that Brooklyn?” Kendra called.

  Brooklyn darted inside, straight to Kendra’s voice.

  “Brooklyn . . . ,” Lance said, following her.

  She smiled sweetly. “Yes?”

  “Did you walk down here by yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does your mom know you’re here?”

  “I . . . think so,” she said, sweetening her answer with a grin.

  Kendra eyed her. “Brooklyn . . .”

  “Okay, no. But she went to the store, and I got scared by myself.”

  Lance and Kendra exchanged a glance. Brooklyn wasn’t scared. She just saw an opportunity to visit.

  Lance looked at his watch. “It’s seven thirty and still light out, but I’m not comfortable with her walking back alone.”

  “Me either,” Kendra said.

  Brooklyn spread her hands and offered a solution. “I don’t have to go home. I can stay until my mom gets back from the store.” She spied the plates. “What’s for dinner?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  KENDRA RETIRED TO THE LIVING-ROOM SOFA, FELLED BY A WAVE of nausea stemming from the chemo—or, more likely, from the call that Brooklyn’s mom was on her way. She’d called Lance’s phone after he had let her know Brooklyn was there. And she’d asked if Kendra was home, saying she’d like to talk to her.

  “And there you are, Miss Woods. Your pedicure is complete.” Brooklyn capped the nail polish, sighing with satisfaction at her work.

  “Beautiful job, Brooklyn. Wow, lime green.” Kendra had been instructed not to look down while she did it. “Where’d you get that?”

  “It’s Molly’s.” Her palm went out. “That’ll be a hundred dollars.”

  “A hundred dollars?” Kendra’s mouth gaped. “You said it was free.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “And they say to watch out for lawyers . . .”

  Brooklyn’s nose wrinkled. “Huh?”

  Kendra chuckled. “You better get ready. Your mom’ll be here shortly.”

  “Can you ask if I can spend the night? Please?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “But why? I haven’t gotten to stay over yet.”

  “You can ask yourself,” Kendra said, “but since you sneaked out, she might not be feeling generous.”

  Brooklyn folded her arms in a huff, then jumped up. “She’s here,” she said, looking out the window. She ran to the door and opened it. “Mom, can I spend the night?”

  Kendra heard, “Brooklyn Renee, you’re not staying anywhere. You and I will have a little talk about your behavior when we leave.”

  Lance came from the kitchen to the front door and greeted her. “Ellen, how are you?” he said. “Come on in.”

  “I’m fine, thanks, Lance.” Footsteps entered the foyer. “Is this a good time to talk to Kendra?”

  “She’s here in the living room,” Lance said.

  Kendra shifted on the sofa as they approached. Introductions felt weird.

  “Ellen, this is Kendra,” Lance said. “Kendra, Brooklyn’s mom, Ellen.”

  Ellen wore jeans and a solid-colored tee, and her hair fell straight and blunt, stopping below the ear. With no makeup, she had a plainness about her, yet an attractive plainness.

  Kendra’s stomach felt tight. “How are you?” she managed.

  “I’m good. How are you?” Ellen asked. “Well. Sorry. Brooklyn told me you were sick, and I see now myself. I’m very sorry you have to go through this.”

  “I appreciate that,” Kendra said.

  “Is this . . . the same cancer your mother had?”

  Okay, really? Kendra sighed inside and tried to think about the pep talk Lance had given her.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “If you’re feeling up to it, I wondered if I could talk to you a minute.”

  “I guess it’s fine.”

  “Brooklyn, let’s get some cookies and milk, if your mom will let you,” Lance said.

  “Sounds good,” Ellen said. “Thanks.”

  When Lance and Brooklyn were gone, Ellen gestured toward the chair. “Mind if I sit?”

  Kendra shook her head.

  “First, I’ve heard a lot about you—”

  “Ellen, seriously,” Kendra said, “you’re telling me you heard a lot about me, from my dad, in the midst of your affair?”

  “Actually, I worked with your dad”—she cleared her throat—“before . . . Look, this isn’t easy for me either. I only wanted to talk to you because of Brooklyn. I’m trying to understand what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on with what?”

  “Out of the blue, my daughter never wants to be home. She only wants to spend time over here.”

  Kendra frowned. “I don’t see that it’s out of the blue. It’s because she found out she has a brother and sister who live around the corner, and she enjoys spending time here.”

  “I’m wondering if there’s more to it, though,” Ellen said.

  She sat forward and kept eye contact. But then, Kendra shouldn’t be surprised. You’d have to have a direct nature to confront the wife, as Ellen had.

  “I don’t expect you to like me,” Ellen said, “but I hope you won’t poison Brooklyn’s mind against me.”

  “What? I would never do that,” Kendra said. “I don’t believe in coming between parents and their children, by word or deed.”

  Ellen’s mouth tightened. “I had to ask.” She stood. “So you don’t have a problem with Brooklyn coming over here?”

  “Of course not,” Kendra said. “I love Brooklyn.”

  “Well. Thank you for your kindness to my daughter.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” Kendra said. “She’s my sister.”

  Ellen started toward the entryway and paused. “I do the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure every year. I hope you beat this thing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And can I say one last thing?” She didn’t wait for a response. “There are two sides to every story.” Then she called to her daughter. “Brooklyn, let’s go.”

  Brooklyn ran into the living room and hugged Kendra. “See you tomorrow,” Brooklyn sang.

  “You don’t know that yet,” Ellen said.

  “Love you, Brookie,” Kendra said.

  “Love you too.”

  Lance came in after they’d left. “So how’d it go?”

  “She wanted to know if we were poisoning Brooklyn against her, since she’d rather be here than home.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I said. But just before she left she said something curious: ‘There are two sides to every story.’ ”

  “You might get to hear the other side sooner than you think.”

  Kendra looked at him. “Why?”

  “I got an e-mail from your dad,” Lance said. “He’s planning a trip to the States. He’ll be here by the end of September.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  KENDRA HADN’T HAD SUCH A FUN EVENING IN WEEKS. SHE’D BEEN out of the house many times, but the outings were usually medical related—chemo, blood draws, appointments with Dr. Contee. And she’d gotten out on short photography excursions. But this was out out. A date. With Lance. And after several days spent mostly in bed or on the sofa with stiffness and pain, she felt good. Well, good enough.

  They hadn’t gone far, just a mile up the road to the Cheesecake Factory. But just being in the mall was nice. Sitting in a booth in a dimly lit corner was nice. Dressing a notch up was nice. And now that her hair had fallen out completely, she felt stylish in her head scarf, tied with guidance from a YouTube tutorial.

  Dr. Contee had given permission for her to eat more than normal, since she’d been losing weight, and tonight Kendra obliged fully. She’d eaten much of the huge serving of shrimp pasta and was now savoring key lime cheesecake.

  Lance had his chin in his hand, smiling at her.

  Kendra slid her fork slowly from her mouth. “What?”

  “I love you.”
/>   Her heart double flipped every time he said it. “I love you more.”

  “No way.”

  “Way.”

  They laughed together.

  Kendra forked up another piece. “Is it my imagination, or have you been doing fewer photo shoots?”

  Lance sipped his cappuccino. “It’s not your imagination.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I’d rather be with you.”

  Her fork came down. She didn’t know what to say.

  “When you’re lying down,” he said, “dealing with the pain, I don’t want to do anything other than sit with you, talk with you, watch you sleep.”

  Hearing that made her heart inch even closer to him. “I caught you praying over me when I woke up one time.”

  “I pray over you all the time,” Lance said. “I pray for you as I go about my day. Praying for you is like breathing.”

  She let his words soak into her soul. “I’ve never been loved like this.”

  “I’ve never loved like this.”

  Moments like this brought exhilaration and sadness. “Why can’t I spend a lifetime with you? Why can’t we have years and years to look forward to? It’s not fair, to have something like this, but only for a little while.”

  “We wouldn’t have it at all if it weren’t for this circumstance. You’d be in DC, married.” He reached for her hand across the table. “If we were both in perfect health, tomorrow still wouldn’t be promised. Years and years together wouldn’t be guaranteed. We don’t know how long of a ‘lifetime’ God will give you or me. But wow, what if we intentionally make the most of every day we receive?”

  “I like that,” Kendra said. “Being intentional about it.” She drank some of her water. “That’s in line with the conversation I had with Grace today.”

  Kendra had spoken with Grace and others on the litigation team somewhat regularly, as questions arose about different cases on which she’d worked. But this conversation was different.

  “I made the break,” Kendra said. “I told her I wasn’t coming back.”

  “That’s huge,” Lance said. “I’m surprised you didn’t mention it earlier.”

  “I guess it’s huge.” Kendra shrugged slightly. “But the break had basically been made. Now it’s just official.”

  He lifted his cup. “How do you feel? That was your dream, to work there.”

  “I feel . . .” Kendra thought on it. “Surprisingly okay. The firm feels so removed from me now, part of another time and place. I’m thankful, though, for all the support they’ve given me.”

  “That box of—what did they call it, pink madness?—was awesome.”

  Kendra nodded. “That was so cool. Pink shirt, pink hoodie, pink baseball cap, even pink Converse.” She smiled, thinking how they must’ve planned that.

  “What about health insurance?” Lance asked. “I’m sure you’re taking care of that.”

  “That was my main concern,” Kendra said. “The premium is higher, but I’ll have continuing coverage.”

  “So, do you think you’ll look for a position at a firm here in St. Louis at some point?” Lance asked. “You were telling me about women with inflammatory breast cancer who continue to work.”

  “Yeah, it depends on treatment and how they’re feeling,” Kendra said. “There’s no way I could’ve continued working at the same pace, if at all, given the pain and fatigue.” She contemplated it more. “When I think about my life now, I really want to focus on enjoying every day God gives me, and photography helps me do that. I would love to keep developing my skills, with your help of course.”

  “You’ll surpass me soon,” Lance said, “the way you research every tip and trick online.” He smiled at her. “But I’m glad it’s official you won’t be returning to DC to live. But what about all your stuff?”

  Kendra sighed. “I know. I’m paying on a month-to-month lease for no reason. But who knows when I’ll feel well enough to take a trip out there to pack up and move out of the condo as well as my office.”

  “What if Trey and I handle it for you?”

  “How would you do that?”

  “Drive out there with a U-Haul, throw your stuff inside, drive back.”

  Kendra laughed. “That simple, huh?”

  “Maybe a tad more involved, but not much.” Lance pulled out his phone. “I can text Trey right now. He starts classes in less than two weeks, so we’d need to get on it.”

  “I’m so happy for him,” Kendra said. “Back on track with school, planning a short missions trip for Christmas break . . .”

  “He’s got me fired up,” Lance said, “looking at my life, wondering how I can live more out of the box.”

  “Seriously?” Kendra said. “You’ve been thinking about that?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t want to miss God in some way because my mind is thinking too ‘ordinary’—you know?”

  “Hmm,” Kendra said, “maybe we all need to start praying about that. I can’t see being intentional and making the most of each day . . . inside a box.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  LANCE AND TREY PULLED INTO WASHINGTON LATE THURSDAY night. They’d hit the road at six a.m. and driven straight through, making quick stops for food and gas. In the rented U-Haul, it took longer than the estimated twelve hours, but they still reached Kendra’s condo in good time and sacked out.

  They awakened early, ready to go. The hardest part was packing the kitchen, making sure Kendra’s dishes, glasses, and other breakable items were protected. But the rest she’d told them to pack crudely. If they could throw it in a box, throw it in a box. If it worked better to throw it loosely in the truck, throw it in the truck. The plan was to get everything loaded by afternoon, stop by the firm and grab what was there, and get right back on the road.

  “I wish I had time to see the city.” Lance spoke from inside Kendra’s closet, as he and Trey packed up the last room. “I’ve never been to DC.”

  Trey stripped the bed and added the comforter and sheets to a pile by the door. “I’ve been here twice,” he said, “but never got to see all I wanted to see.”

  Lance lifted another armful of items from the rack and brought them to the empty bed. “Your sister’s got a serious wardrobe. We might’ve needed a bigger truck just for her clothes.”

  “And shoes.”

  “True.” Lance paused. “I should probably call to check on her.”

  “Didn’t you call an hour ago?”

  “Yes. But that was an hour ago. Anything can happen in an hour.”

  Trey gave him a look. “Molly’s there. Cyd said she’d stop by. Brooklyn’s coming after school. If anything happens, they’ve got it covered.”

  “You might have a point. I’ll call next hour.”

  Lance cleared off a shelf in the closet and saw three picture frames facedown toward the back. He turned them over—Kendra and Derek. They were obviously engagement photos, and the photography was stunning.

  In one, her back was against an outdoor wall as Derek leaned against her, arms to her waist, lips against hers. The Washington Monument stood in the distant background, against a cloudy sky. In another they were walking along the river hand in hand, the focus on gorgeous sunrays breaking through the clouds overhead. He stared at it, at the way she smiled at him, head tossed to the side with long, beautiful curls. Took him back to the Kendra who had always seemed beyond him. He gazed at the third—

  “I forgot about those,” Trey said, taking them from his hands. “Ken told me to toss them in the trash. I already got rid of the album.”

  Lance stared vaguely, lost in thought.

  “Hey,” Trey said. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to my sister. Don’t you forget that.”

  Lance shook it off, emptying the rest of the closet. There was no wedding dress. Her maid of honor took care of that early on, so she wouldn’t have to see it. Lance could appreciate that himself now.

  Two hours later, they’d loaded the furniture, boxes, cl
othes, and miscellaneous items into the truck. Lance picked up the phone, with good reason this time.

  “Hey, Ken,” he said, “we’re headed to your office. What do we need to do?”

  “My legal assistant already transitioned the files and all that and boxed up my personal things,” Kendra said. “All you have to do is pick it up. She’ll meet you at main reception and show you where to go.”

  “Cool,” Lance said. “How’re you feeling? Any better than this morning?”

  “A little.”

  “I hate being this far from you.”

  It wasn’t his nature, but Lance wanted to be open with Kendra about his feelings. What was the point of holding back? Making the most of every moment, living out of the box, meant he couldn’t be guarded.

  “I didn’t think I’d miss you this much,” Kendra said.

  “I’ll call you when we get on the road. Love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  Trey leaned against the truck outside her condo. “Think we can keep moving with the task at hand?”

  Lance smiled. “I’m recharged, ready to keep moving.”

  Kendra’s assistant, Jennifer, had shown them into her office, where a box was sitting atop her desk, good to go. But she realized she’d overlooked some knickknacks on the shelves and a few things inside the desk. Lance and Trey waited for her to return with a smaller box so they could pack those.

  Lance leaned against the desk. “I see why this is one of the top firms in the world,” he said. “It looks high-powered, from the interior design to the designer suits people are wearing.”

  Trey nodded with a chuckle. “We got some looks in our ratty jeans, didn’t we?”

  “They’ve been nice though.”

  Before they could get up to her office, they’d been stopped several times by people asking about Kendra and sending their love. Others had stopped into her office as they waited. She’d clearly been missed.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Lance turned. He recognized the man at once from the pictures.

  “Hey,” Derek said, hand extended. “Trey, right?”

  Trey looked at him. “That’s right.” He shook his hand.

  He moved to Lance next. “Derek Richards.”

  Lance shook his hand. “Lance Alexander.”

 

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