Catch a Falling Star

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Catch a Falling Star Page 13

by Beth K. Vogt


  Kendall preferred to have her conversations with her girlfriends face-to-face, while indulging in corn chips and guacamole. And here she sat, side by side by side by side with Rachel, Sonia, and Melissa, waiting for a Saturday-morning pedicure. The salon welcomed a constant flow of women of all ages—young girls accompanying their moms, teens, twenty-somethings, and on up to women who reminded her of Mina. A large-screen TV filled one wall, tuned to some action movie that added another layer of noise to the constant hum of voices and the ever-ringing phone.

  Kendall should relax, but the overcrowded room, with massage chairs just inches from one another, made her feel a bit claustrophobic. “Exactly how are we supposed to decide anything sitting like ducks all in a row while we get pedicures?”

  “Oh, stop complaining. We’re all overdue for a little pampering.” Rachel settled back in the oversized massage chair, closing her eyes as the water in the ceramic basin swirled around her feet.

  Melissa, who sat in the chair farthest from Kendall, leaned forward. “Sonia’s the one with all the details. Just let her do the talking. I’m going to sit back and enjoy this pedicure.”

  Why was she resisting the opportunity to unwind? Sure, they were here to talk about their summer trip. But having a chance to unwind while someone massaged her feet . . . Kendall needed to spoil herself for half an hour. Let someone take care of her, instead of being the one caring.

  She readjusted her body in the padded chair, pushing away thoughts of all the other things she could be doing. This was not a waste of time. “So, what did you find out, Sonia?”

  “One of Kevin’s friends went to the Riviera Maya last year. It’s on the coast of Mexico. Cozumel is right across the water. There are resorts up and down the coast with all-inclusive plans: airfare, hotel, meals. Even tips.” Sonia paused as a nail tech sat in front of her on a low wheeled stool. She handed the woman a bottle of bright pink polish.

  “Whoa.” Kendall held up her hand as if blinded. “That’s a crazy color.”

  Melissa showed off a bottle of vivid blue nail polish. “What do you think of this, Kendall? It’s called ‘Blue My Mind.’ ”

  “You’re kidding, right? I’ll stick with this red.” What was it again? Kendall turned over the bottle of polish and read the label: “ ‘I’m Not Really a Waitress.’ ”

  “I decided on a classic French manicure.” Rachel joined the conversation, not bothering to open her eyes as she tested the different massage buttons on the arm of the chair. “Who comes up with these names?”

  “Now that we have that all settled, can we talk vacation?” Sonia attempted to restore order, even as the petite woman seated before her trimmed her toenails. “Does an all-inclusive deal sound good to you three?”

  “Absolutely. The less we have to do once we get there, the better. I want to relax.” Melissa looked half asleep where she sat.

  “Is the last week of June still the best time for everyone?”

  “I had Evie block me out of the schedule.” Kendall turned the massage chair to “rolling massage,” shifting so her lower back and shoulders got a good workout.

  “And both my parents are coming to help with the twins.” Melissa sighed. “My father has planned at least two trips to Toys ‘R’ Us with the boys. They will be thoroughly spoiled by the time I get back.”

  “I hope to have a lot of the wedding details settled by then.” Rachel’s voice always pitched a little higher when she said the word wedding. “Remember, this trip to Mexico is also going to be our weeklong bachelorette party.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll make sure to plan some fun things.” Sonia made a few notes in her iPhone. “And who knows? We may have found your perfect dress by then.”

  Melissa sat up straighter as a technician prepared to start her pedicure. “Did your mom change her mind about that dress you tried on?”

  “No. She still says it makes me look old.”

  “That dress doesn’t make you look old, Rachel.” Kendall moved so fast, water sloshed over the side of the foot basin. “You looked like an advertisement in a bridal magazine. Exquisite.”

  “I thought so, and you thought so . . . but there’s no changing my mother’s mind once she’s made a decision about something.”

  “Do you know what kind of dress she wants you to wear?”

  “One like hers, probably.”

  Sonia joined the conversation. “One like hers—or hers?”

  “Oh, probably hers—but it would take forever to alter that dress. I’m taller than my mother. And it’s not the style I want.” Rachel pressed her fingers against her temples and rubbed in a circular motion. “I’ve waited for this day for so long. But how do I have what I want and what my mother wants?”

  “Maybe you can’t have both things.” Kendall swished the water with her feet, careful to keep the liquid in the basin this time.

  “That’s what Tony says.”

  “Smart guy. Of course, we knew that. He proposed to you, didn’t he?”

  Kendall watched as a nail tech settled in front of her, placing a plastic bin of manicure tools beside her stool. “We’ll go looking again. Maybe you’ll find a dress you love even more than that other dress. Or maybe your mom will change her mind when she sees you wearing it a second time.”

  “All I know is, one of us is going to have to change.”

  “Speaking of change—Rachel, you’re never going to believe who showed up in my office.”

  “Who?”

  “Griffin Walker and his brother, Ian.”

  “Who?” Rachel scrunched her nose as she tried to match the name Griffin Walker with a mental image.

  “Ian’s the teenager who had an anaphylactic reaction during my birthday dinner, remember? Griffin’s his older brother—and his guardian.”

  “I thought you told me the guy didn’t want you to be his brother’s doctor. What happened to the whole ‘tomato, tamahto’ thing between you two?”

  “It’s the craziest thing. The guy has a Jeep—”

  “That’s enough to make you like him.”

  Rachel’s laugh interrupted Kendall’s response. “Hush. Then his Jeep broke down on I-25 and I rescued him. And then he called and asked for help fixing the thing.”

  “What? Does Griffin Walker think you work for Triple A on the side?”

  “I offered to help.”

  “You and Jeeps. Never understood the attraction.” Melissa leaned forward, careful not to jostle the nail technician working on her feet. “Are you interested in this guy?”

  “Nooo. I met his ex-wife.”

  Rachel buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. “Kendall, this is starting to sound like a soap opera—not that I watch those things.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just trying to be a friend to Ian. His parents died about five months ago.”

  “So that’s why his older brother is his guardian.”

  Kendall nodded “Exactly.”

  “What about that other guy—what was his name?”

  “Heath Parker.”

  Now they had both Sonia’s and Melissa’s attention. Sonia spoke first. “Girl, what is going on? We don’t get together for a couple of weeks and suddenly guys are everywhere in your life.”

  “It’s not like that at all. Griffin Walker is all about being a single guy—he told me as much.” This time it was the memory of a handsome doctor causing her to relax back in the chair and close her eyes. “But Heath Parker? Well, all I can say is, stay tuned.”

  “There’s potential?”

  Kendall tried to ignore the excitement threaded through Melissa’s question. No need to overreact.

  “I hope so. As far as Griffin Walker is concerned, I’m nothing more than his brother’s doctor. And that’s fine with me. But Heath Parker? I’m interested to see where this relationship might go. And I haven’t said that about any guy in a long time.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Kendall, it’s Griffin.”

  Kendall swiveled
the chair in her office away from the roll-top desk cluttered with lab reports and patients’ charts. Twelve fifteen—and the last patient of her regular Wednesday half day was a no-show. She’d been debating putting off doing her notes and going for a swim, but the thought of walking upstairs to grab her inhaler and change out of her work clothes into her bathing suit exhausted her. And then Evie had said Griffin was on the line. Why was the man calling again? The way he’d shut her out after the run-in with his ex on Saturday, she half expected him to call and request that Ian’s charts be transferred to another practice.

  “Griffin.”

  “Um, I was wondering if you could help me out—”

  Kendall decided to put the man out of his misery. “Jeep problems again? If you need a tool, come on over and get it.”

  “My Jeep’s fine. I need help getting Ian’s Jeep.”

  “You bought it?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t realize the dealership was closed from Sunday to Wednesday. And normally they close by five, but the owner said he’s working late and if I can get there by six thirty, he’ll wait for me. I checked with the guys here at work, but everyone else has plans. And I’d take Ian, but he has to work on some kind of group project for school. You game?”

  Kendall stared out the window at the Colorado blue sky. No clouds. She squinted. Was that an Academy glider circling the Front Range?

  Why would she want to spend any more time with Griffin Walker? He obviously considered her nothing but a good last resort. But what about her desire to help Ian? How could she avoid one brother and still help the other? And that was all Griffin was asking—for her to help him do something nice for his brother.

  “Kendall, you there? I know this is last-minute, but if I have to put up with Ian asking about this Jeep one more night—”

  Fine. She would do this for Ian.

  “What time were you planning on doing this?”

  “I get off close to five. If you could swing by and pick me up, that would be great. After we get to the dealership, you’re free to go.”

  Griffin Walker didn’t want her hanging around any longer than necessary. But then she was doing this for Ian—not to spend time with his going-to-be-single-forever older brother.

  “Fine. That gives me time to do a few things. Read lab reports about people’s immunoglobulin levels. Those sorts of things.”

  “Give me a flight plan any day.”

  “If I tried to read one of those, who knows where we’d end up.”

  She managed to shove all thoughts of Griffin out of her mind while she beat back the papers on her desk, went for a swim, and took Sully for an extra-long walk, all the while insisting that he not pull her arm out of the socket.

  “Wanna go for a ride, boy?” She toed off her tennis shoes, hanging Sully’s leash on the brass hook by the back door while the dog bounded around her. Kendall surveyed her outfit: khaki-colored linen-blend cargo pants and a white V-neck T-shirt paired with a yellow racer-back tank top. A quick run of a comb through her hair, a quick brush of her teeth, slip her feet into a casual pair of espadrilles, and she was ready to go. This was helping out a friend—and Ian was that friend. She proved it to herself by forgoing makeup. She stared at herself in the mirror, noting how fatigue painted dark circles under her eyes. Well . . . maybe a two-minute makeup fix. Even Griffin deserved someone who didn’t look as if she were anemic.

  Twenty minutes later, she sat outside the Walkers’ house, watching Griffin run down the driveway at the sound of her honking the CJ5’s horn. The man certainly knew how to fill out black jeans and a black polo shirt, which only served to accent his graying hair. Not that he’d catch her looking at him. Griffin opened the door but stopped with one leg in the Jeep, one out, when he realized Sully lounged in the front seat. “You’re bringing Sully?”

  “Why not? He likes going for rides in the Jeep.”

  “I invited you to help me—not your dog.”

  “Love me, love my dog.”

  Kendall ignored Griffin’s muttered comment that sounded as if he’d said, “Don’t make me choose, woman. Don’t make me choose.”

  As if there were any choosing going on.

  Sully settled in between them, resting his long nose on Griffin’s shoulder.

  “Tell your dog to move.” Every time Griffin tried to move the dog’s head, Sully burrowed closer.

  “He’s happy. Let him be.”

  “Don’t shed on me, dog.”

  “Goldendoodles don’t shed. It’s part of their charm.” Kendall eased the CJ5 into the traffic on I-25. “Let’s hope rush-hour traffic doesn’t work against us.”

  “I called to say we were on our way. Thanks for helping me out. After we talked, I tried getting my friend Doug, but he wasn’t available.” Griffin stretched his legs out. “You really need to get a CJ7, Doc.”

  “Stop bad-mouthing my Jeep. I like my 5 and I’m not trading down.” Before he could respond, she changed the subject. “How’s Ian?”

  “As good as can be expected.”

  “Do you think he’s finally settling in?”

  “Not like he has a choice.”

  Kendall weighed what to say next and went with the say-it-like-it-is policy. “You have a choice, Griffin.”

  “What do you mean?” She heard the bite in his tone, even as he continued to stare out the windshield at the long line of cars advancing up Monument Hill. “I’m stationed here. I can’t move to make Ian happy.”

  “I’m not suggesting you move. But you can do whatever it takes to help him adjust, to like it here.”

  As she looked right to move over to pass a slow-moving truck in the left lane, Kendall saw Griffin tug at the thick gold chain hanging around his neck.

  “I’m not sure being here is the best thing for Ian.”

  His words brought her up short. What did he mean? Without thinking, Kendall reached over, placing her hand on Griffin’s forearm. “Of course it is. Ian needs you. You’re the only family he has.”

  “I am not cut out to be the guardian of a sixteen-year-old kid.”

  “Lots of men your age are fathers by now, Griffin.” She had to shift gears, causing her to remove her hand from his arm—but not before she noticed that it was toned. Muscular. “Some of your buddies must have kids Ian’s age. Ask them how to connect with Ian.”

  Silence stretched between them as taut as Sully’s leash when she tried to restrain him from chasing a rabbit. When Kendall looked over at Griffin, he stared ahead, his lips thinned to a straight line. What had she said to irritate him?

  “I’m a single guy, Doc.” A rough edge graveled his words. “I don’t hang around parents much, talking about the dos and the don’ts.”

  There he went again, erecting the barrier of singleness between them. Could he make it any clearer he had no interest in changing his status? “Single or not—and I get that your choice is single—you’re still Ian’s brother. He needs you. Your parents obviously wanted your brother to be with you if something happened to them.”

  “I wish I knew why.” Griffin rubbed at the pressure between his brows with his thumb and index finger.

  “Maybe you should stop asking why and start asking God how you’re supposed to develop a relationship with Ian.”

  Griffin reached over and tugged a lock of hair lying against her neck. A quicksilver shiver raced up Kendall’s neck.

  “You’ve always got an answer, don’t you?”

  “I try to. Got me through residency.”

  “You always wear your hair short?”

  “Hmm? Um, yeah. Pretty much my whole life.” Kendall fingered the feathered ends, trying to stay focused on the highway and not be distracted by Griffin’s perusal. He shifted in the seat and watched her as she drove. “Because of my asthma, I spent a lot of time in the hospital. If I wasn’t in the hospital, I was at the doctor’s office. It was easier to take care of if it was short. When I got older and went to medical school . . . well, long hair would have been a hassle.” />
  “Good thing you look nice with short hair. Some women look like guys.”

  “Maybe that explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Why you thought I was a guy when you first met me.”

  Instead of laughing as she expected, in the dim light of the Jeep, Kendall just caught the grimace that marred Griffin’s face.

  “Sorry. Was never good at the compliments.”

  Griffin Walker was trying to compliment her?

  “Oh, I don’t believe that. I bet you’ve broken quite a few hearts in your days.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

  Only the way he said it, Griffin didn’t sound proud.

  “After my wife and I divorced, I was all about women. And they certainly didn’t seem to mind the attention. Or my no-strings-attached clause.”

  Kendall kept her eyes trained on the patch of highway illuminated by her headlights. This conversation was going unexpected places.

  “I piled up a lot of regrets after my divorce. Most of them have names.” Griffin shifted again in his seat so that he stared out the windshield instead of looking at Kendall. “Once I became a believer, I thought about contacting each of them. Saying I was sorry. Seemed like the least I could do.”

  “Or the most.”

  “So you think I should call all those women?”

  “All those women? Like there’s a list a mile long?” She held up her hand, shaking her head. “No, don’t tell me. That’s none of my business. And to answer your question, no, I don’t think you should call them.”

  Silence filled the space between them. Kendall waited. What could she say? Griffin spoke first.

  “Doesn’t the Bible say if you’ve sinned against your brother—well, your sister—you should go and make amends?”

 

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