by Beth K. Vogt
“I guess.”
Maybe a change of topic would help.
“How’s the science project coming?”
“Pretty good.”
“If you need any help, let me know. I’m available.”
Kendall didn’t miss the moment’s hesitation before Ian replied. “Sure.”
By the time they got to the car dealership, she managed to get Ian laughing over some ridiculous YouTube videos of stunts gone wrong. Griffin sat in silence. What, he didn’t like You-Tube?
The wind whipped around them as the trio walked toward the office building, offering a hint of impending snow. Kendall looked toward the mountains to the west. Gray-tinged clouds hovered over Pikes Peak, a sure sign that a storm was on the way. They’d likely have snow by nightfall. Or not. This close to the foothills, you never knew where the forecasted snow would actually show up.
Within minutes, they were looking at the rust-colored Jeep. It looked clean, and Kendall caught the whiff of the just-washed and -vacuumed smell as Griffin opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. He motioned to his brother. “Ian, you get behind the wheel.”
“Me?”
“Sure. If we decide to buy it, it’ll be your car, not mine.”
Kendall stood off to the side, watching the brothers interact. When Griffin made eye contact with her, she gave him a thumbs-up. A saleswoman wearing a vivid yellow down vest handed Ian the keys. “Do you want to drive it, check it out?”
“Can I?”
“I need a license and then I’ll put a dealer tag on the Jeep. You’re good to go.”
“Sweet.”
“You do have to bring it back.” The saleswoman tugged on the key, a playful smile on her face.
“Sure.”
Griffin motioned Kendall over. “You brave enough to come along? You could wait in the office, enjoy a cup of coffee instead of risking your life.”
“I never miss the opportunity to ride in a Jeep. Besides, I taught my brother to drive.” She climbed into the backseat, memories of instructing Tanner in the finer points of a stick shift washing over her.
“You’re a good sport.” Griffin buckled his seat belt after handing over his license, waiting while the woman checked Ian’s license, too.
“I’m sure Ian’s a reliable driver. I’m good.”
She settled back and watched Griffin and Ian prepare for the test drive.
Griffin insisted that Ian look over the dashboard, checking out the basic controls. “You do know how to drive a stick, right?”
“Kinda.”
“Kind of?”
“Well, yeah. Dad had taught me, but I usually drove Mom’s automatic, so I’m probably gonna be rusty.”
Kendall bit back a grin. This was going to be fun.
She knew it took all of Griffin’s willpower not to grab hold of the dash as Ian pulled out of the parking lot, the Jeep lurching as if it were having convulsions. Her own fingers gripped the edge of the seat, her eyes locking with Griffin’s in the rearview mirror.
“So, where to?”
For a moment, everything was blessedly still as Ian waited for instructions.
“Let’s stay off the highway for now. Turn left and let’s go up Highway 105 toward Palmer Lake. Take it easy on the curves. You’re just seeing how the car handles, not racing.”
“Sure thing.”
While Ian drove, Griffin checked the radio, the wipers, the heater and AC—or at least tried to. After bumping his head on the dash when the Jeep sputtered to a stop at a red light, Griffin settled back in his seat. Kendall had to give him credit for not throwing instructions at Ian about how to handle the Jeep. She kept a tight rein on her own words. Ian was Griffin’s brother, not hers.
As Ian concentrated on operating the clutch, Griffin shifted in the seat so he could look at her. “So your brother is younger than you?”
Kendall answered his unspoken questions. “His name’s Tanner. He’s five years younger than me. And then there’s my sister, Bekah. She’s ten years younger than me.”
“Do they live in Colorado, too?”
“No. Bekah lives back east—still lives at home. Tanner’s the adventurer in the family. He’s overseas right now teaching English.”
The conversation ceased as Ian approached railroad tracks.
“What now?” Ian sounded as if he wanted to trade places with Griffin.
“What do you mean, ‘What now?’ Slow down and cross the tracks.”
Griffin’s advice to slow down came a moment too late and they endured a jolting five-second ride that had Kendall grabbing for the edge of the seat so she didn’t bounce all over the back of the Cherokee.
After five more minutes of lurching around Palmer Lake, Griffin instructed Ian to pull over. “Let me drive back.”
“I’m doing okay, aren’t I?” Ian focused on the road, looking for a safe spot to pull over.
“You’re doing fine.” Griffin stretched his neck right, then left. “But if we’re buying this thing, I want to check out how she handles.”
Within seconds of arriving back at the dealership, Ian was ready to buy the Cherokee.
“Calm down.” Griffin rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I think we’re getting the Jeep, but I’m not ready to say yes yet. Let’s see if the price is negotiable at all. Then we’ll go have lunch and think about it.”
“But you’ll tell ’em we’re interested, right?” Ian still stood beside the driver’s-side door of the Jeep. “I don’t want anyone buying it while we’re at lunch.”
“Yes. I’ll make certain they know we’re interested.”
Leaving the Walkers to negotiate, Kendall walked back to her Jeep. Try as she might, she couldn’t think of a single restaurant in town that offered neck massages with a side of Motrin.
On the drive to California Pizza Kitchen back in the Springs, Kendall and Ian discussed the merits of the Jeep, even debating whether Ian wanted to lift it or not because it made it harder to climb into the Jeep. Griffin tried to ignore the ache nagging at his temples, not even up to the effort of teasing Kendall that she’d need a footstool to get into the Jeep if they did too drastic a lift. Decisions. It was less complicated to watch the scenery pass by. The Academy football stadium came into view, the words AIR FORCE written across the western stand of seats in towering white letters. How many Saturdays had he marched out on the field before a game, then run back down into the Falcons’ end zone to do push-ups near the goalpost whenever Air Force scored a touchdown?
He had his life all planned out back then: Graduate. Get married. Fly. And here he was sixteen years later. His life looked nothing like he’d envisioned when he was twenty-two. How did he get so off course?
The lunch crowd was heavy at CPK, but they settled into a booth in the back after a short wait. Griffin inhaled the crusty aroma of fresh-baked pizza. At least letting Ian commandeer the driver’s seat hadn’t ruined his appetite. Griffin watched Ian and Kendall as the black-clothed waiter handed them each a menu and explained the specials. His brother radiated adolescent energy, while Kendall looked as if she could lean back in the booth and doze off.
“Tired?” Kendall’s question implied she’d noticed the grooves lining his forehead.
“Yeah.”
“Anything on your mind—besides Jeep problems, I mean?”
“No. Nothing more than everything that goes with having a teen boy in the house.” Griffin looked over at Ian, thankful his brother was so busy trying to figure out what he wanted to eat that he’d missed that offhand comment. So far they’d had a good day—no need to knock Ian back into an attitude.
“Hey, Griffin, you okay if I order a whole pizza?” Ian shoved half a slice of bread into his mouth. “I was thinking I’d get the Meat Cravers.”
“Sure.” Maybe there’d be leftovers. Or maybe not. “What about you, Kendall? I’m paying. You provided manual labor this morning and you drove this afternoon.”
“I love the fish tacos here. It’s my go-to o
rder every time.”
“Sounds like we’re ready, then.” Deciding on the tostado pizza, with its blend of black beans and cheese, Griffin closed the menu, looking up when someone stopped by the table, expecting to see the waiter with their drinks.
“Griffin Walker. I thought that was you.”
The red-haired woman wearing a casual pair of khaki pants and a white scoop-neck top stood directly beside him, a hint of a seductive smile curving her lips. Or maybe that was more of a taunting look. He could never tell with his wife.
Make that his ex-wife.
“Tracey.” Griffin slid from the booth. Stood. Cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were in the Springs.”
“I—we’re house hunting. Considering a move back here. You know how Academy grads love Colorado Springs. Funny that we’d both end up back here.”
Was there a laugh track playing somewhere? His ex-wife and her family in the Springs. Great.
“Mom, let’s go.”
“Yeah, Mom, let’s go.”
Two girls, both wearing jean jackets and frilly skirts, stood next to Tracey. How had Griffin missed them? With their red curly hair and matching coats and Uggs, they had to be Tracey’s daughters. His ex-wife must still spend her off hours at the mall—and now she had two more reasons to shop. He’d heard she had kids, but the sight of her two daughters still made him feel as if he was in a plane that had lost altitude too quickly. Tracey swore she never wanted children—and here she stood with two.
“Just a minute.” She clasped the girls by their hands and pulled them forward. “Girls, this is Griffin Walker, a friend of Mommy’s from the Academy. Griffin, this is Claire and Sarah.”
The girls chimed hello, revealing gaps in their smiles. How did they manage to both be missing the same teeth?
Tracey’s green eyes scanned the booth behind him. Griffin froze, realizing Ian and Kendall were watching the exchange between him and his ex. Any minute now, Tracey’s husband would walk up and the whole happy reunion would be complete.
Tracey motioned to Ian and Kendall. “Is this your family, Griffin? I thought you couldn’t—”
“No. No family.” Griffin shoved the words out.
Kendall’s voice broke through the silence. “I’m Kendall Haynes, a friend of Griffin’s. And this is his brother, Ian.”
“Ian. I never had the chance to meet you.” Tracey shook their hands. “How nice.”
“Hey.” Ian settled back into the booth, grabbing another piece of bread, acting as if they ran into his brother’s ex on a regular basis.
But Tracey had never met Ian. They’d spent two years together, two years apart, and then one year back together, fighting their way to a divorce. There was no time to go visit his little brother.
Tracey refocused on him. “So you’re stationed here now, Griffin?”
“Yes.” Griffin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing he could sit back down.
“Not flying?”
Obviously, since there wasn’t an A-10 base in Colorado. “No.”
“That’s too bad. You were all about flying back in the day.” Tracey gave him a slow once-over. He remembered that calculating look. “Still single?”
“Yes.” Not that it was any of her business.
Her daughters tugged on her hands again, causing her oversized charm bracelet to jangle. “Let’s go, Mommy. Daddy’s waiting for us at the door.”
Griffin saw a husky guy with a crew cut standing by the front of the restaurant. In his arms he carried a toddler. A boy. Tracey had three kids. And a new husband to pay off her credit card bill. Maybe this guy didn’t mind a wife who never said no to a sale.
Tracey answered his unspoken question. “Yes, three. Me, of all people. I never imagined how much I would love being a mom.” She caressed the tops of her daughters’ heads. “Well, this was such a surprise. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again, if we move here.”
Oh, he hoped not.
Griffin refused to watch Tracey walk away—into the life she’d sworn she never wanted. At least, not with him. Marriage. Kids. And Griffin agreed with her—at least the “no kids” part. And eventually they both argued their way out of the marriage, too.
The arrival of the actual waiter stalled Griffin’s explanation of his interaction with Tracey. He appreciated Kendall’s nonchalant act and Ian, being sixteen and a boy, was already thinking about the could-be-his-Jeep again.
“Sorry I didn’t introduce you.” Griffin considered ordering a beer. Not that drinking a beer would help. It was probably best to say it straight up, not that it was any of Kendall’s business. “That was my ex-wife.”
Kendall played with her straw, stirring the ice in her glass of tea. “I kinda figured you and she had some kind of past.”
Ian leaned forward, craning his neck to look at the front of the restaurant and catch another look at Tracey. “That’s Tracey? The way Mom talked about her, I always thought she was taller.”
His mom talked about his ex? She only met her a couple of times, once at the wedding. What could she have to say about Tracey?
“Yeah, she went on and on about how bossy she was . . . didn’t like her at all.”
Kendall swatted his brother’s arm. “Ian, stop. You’re talking about Griffin’s ex.”
“Exactly. He must not have liked her much, either.”
Griffin didn’t need his brother hypothesizing about his failed marriage. “Tracey and I realized getting married was a mistake.”
“That’s what everybody says.” Ian reached for his third piece of bread.
Griffin pulled the bread out of his hand and deposited it back on the plate. “Ian, go to the bathroom and wash up.”
“What? I’m not six, Griffin.”
“Just go.”
As his brother walked away, Griffin tugged on the chain resting around his neck. Why did it seem to weigh so heavily all of a sudden? “Sorry. I didn’t handle that well.”
“Understandable. Your ex shows up while you’re having lunch. You’re gonna be rattled.”
“I haven’t seen Tracey since the divorce. Hard to believe, huh? I knew she got married. Knew she had kids.” The image of identical twin girls scrolled across his mind. “Still . . . the woman I knew was all about her career. And swore she’d never, ever have kids.”
“A lot of us make plans, Griffin. And then life changes.”
“I get that. And I even see some good that came out of the whole mess that we—that I made.”
Kendall rested her chin on the palm of her upturned hand. “What’s that?”
“I’m good with being single. I’m satisfied with the way life turned out.”
“Come on, Griffin. Just because things didn’t work out with you and Tracey doesn’t mean—”
“This really isn’t something I want to talk about.” Griffin leaned away from the table, looking to the left, which caused the world to tilt. Ignore it. Where was Ian? Or the waiter? He didn’t want to get personal with Kendall Haynes.
When he looked back at the woman sitting across from him, her gray eyes were the hue of the storm clouds looming over the Peak.
“If you recall, Griffin, I didn’t start this conversation. You did.” She bit her lip, as if attempting to stall herself from saying anything else.
There was the Kendall Haynes he knew. The one who spoke her mind—and who reminded him of his ex. The funny thing was, Tracey looked angry only when she was backing him into a corner, determined to make a point. Kendall’s feistiness was woven through with a sense of humor that made her appealing. Almost alluring. He liked the way she went nose-to-nose with him—at least when she was sitting down. The thought caused him to chuckle.
Wrong response.
“For the life of me, I can’t figure out what’s so funny right now.” Kendall shifted her position away from him. Was she walking out? Now, that would be a direct repeat of his ex-wife’s behavior, although he doubted Kendall could slam the restaurant’s door the way Tra
cey did when she exited a room mid-argument. “You are . . . infuriating.”
He could say the same about her—if he dared.
“Look. You’re happy being single? Great. You don’t want to talk about it? Great.” Her lips thinned into an overstretched smile as Ian rejoined them. “I’m just here for the food.”
CHAPTER NINE
After the weekend at home, Evie looked forward to a Monday at the office.
She glanced at the small clock display at the base of her computer screen. Ten more minutes before the answering service turned the phones back over after covering them during the weekend. The deluge of requests for same-day appointments would begin. Between the phones and patients, she wouldn’t have a moment to think until lunchtime.
Next to going another round with Javan, who alternated between hiding from her or screaming at her, dealing with demanding patients would be easy. She knew how to prioritize, empathize, and postpone—whatever was the proper response.
Evie bit into the breakfast burrito Logan made her that morning. Another advantage of his working from home: She rarely drove through to pick up something to eat on her way to work. Too bad the spicy combination of egg, sausage, cheese, and salsa grew cold while she heated up a cup of Earl Grey tea in the break room and then settled into her workstation.
She studied the schedule displayed on the computer screen. Both Kendall and Paul had almost-full days. Kendall had two same-day appointments available, and Paul had three. All five would go to the highest bidders—or rather the first callers. Five minutes to go.
Evie pick up a framed photo of Javan and Logan positioned on her desk. Should she call and apologize to Logan for slipping out of the house while he was wrestling Javan into a pair of jeans and a Broncos sweatshirt, readying him for kindergarten? No. Why disrupt her husband’s schedule? She’d done them all a favor by leaving for work early. Javan didn’t play dodge-a-parent if she wasn’t around. And she left Logan a note on the counter to counteract her sudden disappearance. Besides, her husband witnessed Javan’s nonstop “Go away! Don’t want you!” from Friday to last night until he fell asleep. Did she have to explain anything? Leaving was easier.
