Texas Summer

by Hachtel, Leslie

  “I know he got that girl, Shelby, to help out, but he could probably use a little more help. She’s kind of clumsy,” Martha said.

  “Kind of clumsy?” Kennedy laughed. “That girl can hardly make it across a room without some disaster. Now I know Norma needs me.”

  “Well, I have to be getting to work,” Miller said. “In the meantime, you should both stay low and try not to ruffle anyone’s feathers.” Miller held up his hand to stop their protests of innocence. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

  * * *

  Watching Shelby wait tables was like seeing a comedy in action. Or someone possessed by an evil spirit. Cups shattered on the floor, silverware spun out of control, food slid around plates in a desperate dance not to hit the ground. Some people felt sorry for her. The rest ordered as many plates or drinks as possible just to watch the juggling act. Her eyes were constantly filled with tears. Norma spent more time comforting her than cooking. When Kennedy finally showed up, he sent loud thanks to the Lord above for deliverance.

  Kennedy walked through the diner—avoiding the precariously balanced tray Shelby was maneuvering to a table of grinning diners—and made her way into the kitchen. She came up behind Norma at the stove and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

  He jumped and then smiled broadly before his face darkened. “How could you leave me with…her?”

  Kennedy laughed out loud. “Why did you hire her?”

  “What choice did I have? Not a whole lot of applicants to choose from after my best waitress takes a powder.”

  “Takes a powder? No one says that anymore. What have you been doing—watching forties movies?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Kennedy held up her left hand, and the ring caught the light. “I was busy.”

  “I can see that. And now I suppose you’re too busy to help me in my desperate hour of need.” If Norma wasn’t such a big, burly man, it might have come out sounding petulant. “Well, congrats,” he said begrudgingly.

  “First, I am here to work. And second, be happy for me.”

  Norma grinned. “Here to work? Really? Well, hurry and get changed. I am happy for you. I just hope he’s good enough for you. After all, you hardly know him.”

  “I know him enough to know we love each other.”

  “If you say so. Now move it. I have five orders and a walking disaster in the dining room.”

  Kennedy’s laughter rang out as she went in the back to change her clothes. She hadn’t felt this wonderful since… She couldn’t remember when she’d ever been this totally happy.

  She spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening covering her own tables and helping Shelby not turn the diner into a national disaster area. In fact, she was so busy she was surprised to notice Paul had slipped into a booth in front of the window. Kennedy approached his table. “What can I get for you?”

  He hadn’t changed. He was still handsome and in good shape.

  “Hello, Kennedy. Been a long time."

  She knew she should feel something, seeing him, but it all seemed so much like some unpleasant memory from so long ago that it had lost its power to sting. “Hello, Paul. How have you been?” Not that she cared.

  “Lonely. Missing you. You look wonderful. More beautiful than I remembered. Delicious, in fact.”

  “Please. That cowboy charm doesn’t work on me anymore. Do you want coffee?”

  “I’m serious. I think about you all the time. The worst mistake of my life was walking away from you all those years ago.”

  Kennedy took a deep breath of exasperation. “Not interested. Coffee?”

  He snatched her wrist, and she shook it off. “Paul, I have zero interest in you. It’s ancient history. I have so moved on.”

  He lowered his voice. “But, baby, you gave me a precious gift. I was your first. You can’t just forget about that.”

  “Can and have. Now order or leave.”

  Paul smiled. His eyes brightened with the obvious challenge. But that had always been his nature. Never give up until you’ve won. Well, not this time, cowboy.

  “Coffee. With some sugar.” The double entendre was clear, but she ignored it. She smiled to herself. She would have Shelby deliver his coffee, and if she didn’t manage to burn off his genitals in the process, at least he’d get the message that Kennedy wanted nothing to do with him.

  A few minutes later, a man squealed. Shelby said, “I am so sorry. Are you burned? I am so sorry.”

  When Paul ran from the diner holding his crotch, Kennedy couldn’t suppress her laughter. She walked over to Shelby and put a comforting arm around the girl. “It’s OK.”

  “I dropped the coffee in his lap,” she wailed. “It was hot.”

  “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

  * * *

  Wylie woke early the next morning. He stretched himself out of bed and went to his laptop. He wrote for a while and then went back to the bed, and Kennedy. She slept like an angel. He crawled back between the sheets, shifted to his side, and propped himself on an elbow. He watched her until her eyelids fluttered open.

  “How long have you been staring at me?” she asked, yawning.

  “Not long enough,” he said.

  “How do you come up with the right thing to say all the time?”

  “Not all the time.” He laughed.

  “True. But you are a charmer.”

  He leaned over and kissed her.

  “Well, charmer, you’d better shave before you scrape off my skin.”

  “Complaints already? We’re not even married yet. Now I am going to shave. Will you join me in the shower? I love how you take a shower.” He leered at her.

  “Shave first. And if you do a good job, I might just see to your reward.”

  “Slave driver!” He went into the bathroom.

  After a few minutes, Wylie appeared at the bathroom door, clad only in a towel around his waist, dabs of shaving cream clinging to his cheek. He was smiling, but he took one look at her and knew instantly something was terribly wrong. She was dressed, and her body was rigid. He crossed the room in three strides.

  “Kennedy? What is it?”

  She couldn’t seem to speak for a moment. “I…I can’t believe it. How could you?”

  His eyes flicked over to the table, and he saw the open laptop. “You read it? Well, what do you think?”

  “I think you’re a son of a bitch. You wrote about it all. Me, Mama, the murders—all of it. You used me to get a story. You used me. How could you do that?”

  “Kennedy, it’s not what you think. Writing down the events has nothing to do with how I feel about you. How can I explain?”

  “I don’t think you can. Ever.” With tears rolling down her cheeks, she took off the ring he had given her and threw it at him, then stormed out the door. He ran after her, but stopped short, realizing he was wearing only a towel. He threw on his clothes and was just about to try to follow her when a woman stepped into the doorway and blocked his path.

  “I need to talk to you,” she declared.

  “Look, lady, I don’t know who you are, but this is a very bad time.”

  “I’m Dolores. I need to talk to you…now.”

  “Can’t it wait? I’m kind of busy.”

  “If it could wait, I wouldn’t be here.” She showed no signs of moving, and short of knocking her down, Wylie had no choice but to back into the room. She followed and closed the door.

  “Well, say what you have to and then go.”

  “Well, clearly manners aren’t your strong suit,” she sneered. “You shouldn’t worry about Kennedy. She’s hotheaded and moody. I saw her run out the door when I got here. Whatever you two fought about, she’ll get over it.”

  “And that’s your business, because…?” He wasn’t of a mind to confide in Dolores or even be polite to her. He viewed her as one of Kennedy’s adversaries and certainly not to be trusted.

  “I was just showing concern. Which is why I’m here.�
� Dolores paused and took a deep breath. “I am worried about her lies.”

  “Dolores, do you get the message that I’m not interested in anything you have to say?”

  “I want the truth, and I intend to find it. I went to see James. He is on her side, and I want to know what’s happening. I figured she might have told you.”

  “What are you talking about?” he snapped.

  “Well, first, you know she tried to kill me.”

  “No, she didn’t. You and I both know you made that up.”

  “That is not true,” she spit. “I was stabbed!”

  “Maybe so, but Kennedy didn’t do it.”

  “It was dark.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Well, I could have been mistaken. But that’s not why I came. I want to know what’s going on with James.”

  Wylie just stared at her and waited.

  “Why is he lying to me?” she demanded.

  Wylie said nothing.

  “He said there’s no money. He said he thought Kennedy had already told me that PJ lost it all. I want to know why he would tell me such a thing. Does Kennedy think I’ll just go away? I have a right to that money, same as she does. More. I’m his legitimate daughter.”

  “Why would I talk to you about this?” Wylie was sincerely baffled. “Who gave you the impression you and I would ever be friends?”

  “I don’t want to be your friend. I just thought you might have some integrity and want the truth too.”

  “So you came here to let me know that the woman I am going to marry is lying to you and has some grand scheme to cheat you, and I’m supposed to…what?”

  “Marry?” Dolores fairly screeched the word. Wylie remained impassive. “I had no idea this had gotten so serious. Are you out of your mind? You intend to marry that tramp? Do you know she’s using you? Her boyfriend just got back in town. She’s waited a long time for him to show back up.”

  “Get out, Dolores. Before I forget I’m a gentleman.” He ignored the reference to a boyfriend, giving it no credence.

  “You’re a son of a bitch!”

  “That’s the rumor.” He opened the door and guided her outside.

  “This isn’t over,” she snapped as she walked away. “Not by a long shot.”

  “You’re right,” he said quietly. With that he searched the floor until he found the ring and slipped it into his pocket. Then he hurried out the door.

  * * *

  Tears blurred her vision as Kennedy ran down the road toward home. How could he? Did he really think changing a few names would hide what he was doing? A Small Town in Texas. As if that wouldn’t be recognized as Snakewater. And the characters. She hadn’t had time to read much, but she’d seen enough. He had used her to get the idea for his next novel. Her, her mama, her feelings, and their lovemaking—she hadn’t actually seen that part, but she was convinced it would be there for all the world to see.

  She had never felt so betrayed in her life. Not by PJ or Freddie or even Paul. The pain was nearly unbearable.

  She was moving so fast she didn’t see Paul until she crashed into him. He caught her and held her. “I’m glad to see you too, baby,” he cooed in her ear.

  She jumped back as if she had been stung. “Paul? Paul? What are you doing here?” She scrubbed at her eyes to wipe away the moisture.

  “Saving my damsel in distress, obviously. What’s wrong, baby?”

  She recovered almost instantly and pushed back from him. She was certainly not going to be vulnerable to this man. “Um, nothing. I’m fine.”

  “I was just coming from your house. Visited with your mama. She looks good.”

  “What do you want, Paul?” She was anxious to get home and resume crying.

  “To talk, baby. I’ve had a long time to think about it, and I want you. There’s never been anyone like you.”

  “I’m supposed to fall for that line?”

  “I was hoping.” He grinned.

  “Paul, it’s not a good time. I need to get home and talk to Mama about some things and… Well, it was good seeing you.”

  “Was it?”

  “What?”

  “Good seeing me?”

  She laughed without mirth. “Not really. I don’t have a lot of good memories. By the way, how’s your crotch? Heard you got a bad burn.”

  “And I heard you turned into a badass.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Word is you might have killed one sister and stabbed the other.”

  “Who told you that? Dolores?”

  “Maybe. Is it true? Are you dangerous?”

  He was toying with her, but he was only succeeding in pissing her off. The anger felt good, better than the hurt.

  “I can be. So I suggest you go on about your business and leave me alone.”

  “I don’t think you mean that, baby.”

  “Oh, I mean it. And I am not your baby.”

  “I did hear you got yourself a boyfriend. But from the looks of those swollen eyes of yours, things aren’t going so well.”

  “I stopped being any of your business years ago. Now I gotta go.” She tried to bypass him, but he caught her and spun her back toward him. He kissed her on the mouth, hard, and then released her.

  “What does that prove?” she almost shouted.

  “I was hoping it would prove to you that you still want me too.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. You know, I’ve learned some things along the way. Men like you only want what they can’t get. Once they get it, it loses its appeal. You only want me now because I’m with someone else.” Kennedy pulled away and walked toward home.

  “That’s not true. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the only woman I can’t let go.”

  She stopped and faced him. “I’m sorry, Paul. You should have loved me better when you had the chance.”

  Blindly, Kennedy ran to the sanctuary of her house. She threw open the door, still sniffing audibly.

  “Honey, what’s happened? Did Paul make you cry?” Martha asked, concern in her tone.

  “Paul? Oh yeah, he said he was here. No, not Paul. Wylie.” The tears flowed anew. “You know, it’s funny. I cared so much for Paul once, and now he’s nothing to me. Wylie is ten times the man Paul will ever be. And he betrayed me.” She started to cry again.

  Martha guided Kennedy to the couch and sat next to her. “What did he do that was so terrible? Is there another woman?” Martha acted as if she was really afraid of the answer to that.

  “He wrote about it. All of it.”

  “Wrote about what, honey?” Martha seemed confused.

  “Us. Snakewater. The murders.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He used me. Us. For a novel.”

  Martha was quiet for a moment. “So what you’re saying is he is writing a novel, and he used Snakewater as the setting?”

  “Yes. Except he changed the name. He changed all the names, but it’s still us. He never loved me. He just wanted a story.”

  “So you kicked him to the curb?” Martha pursed her lips. “Are you sure that’s all he wanted? A story?”

  “What do you think?” Kennedy was outraged.

  “Did you listen to his explanation? Since I am quite sure he offered one.”

  Kennedy hiccupped and then drew in a teary breath. “Well, no.”

  “Honey, I love you. But you do have a tendency to jump to conclusions. I have a feeling he had a good explanation.”

  “How could he?”

  “Or is this just a cause for you to make the preemptive first strike.”

  Kennedy was listening but not understanding. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that men have let you down before, and this was a good reason, in your mind anyway, to cut and run.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Isn’t it? What did Wylie actually do to betray you? He came to a small town where there were a series of murders. Sounds like an interesting ide
a for a book to me.”

  “But it’s our lives.”

  “So because he is writing this book, you immediately assume he doesn’t love you?”

  Kennedy grew thoughtful. “Well, it sounds kind of silly when you put it like that.”

  “Are you sure you’re in the book?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “And does that upset you more or less?”

  Kennedy thought her mama was amazingly insightful. She had to smile. “I don’t know.”

  “Is it possible you are so afraid to love him that you overreacted?”

  Kennedy dropped her eyes to her hands, resting in her lap. “Paul kissed me.”

  “What? When?” Martha asked.

  “Before. On my way over here.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing. It just pissed me off. You know, there was a time when I would have bargained with God to get him to care about me, to not leave me. But today I was just annoyed.”

  “And you think, with time, you won’t love Wylie anymore? Or worse, that he’ll stop loving you?”

  “What if that happens?”

  “Well, why did you stop caring about Paul?”

  “Because he treated me like dirt, and he was an immature, miserable, selfish asshole.”

  “Is Wylie any of those things?”

  “No.”

  “Are your feelings for Wylie anything like your feelings for Paul?”

  “No. Paul is a boy. Wylie is a man.”

  “There are no guarantees in life. I know that sounds like a stupid cliché, but it’s true. I think Wylie is a good man who seems to love you honestly and truly and wants to make you happy. You light up when he’s around. I think he makes you better than you are without him. Kennedy, do you love Wylie?”

  “I do. That’s why it hurt so much when I read parts of his novel.”

  “Well, I think you got scared. But making a life with someone means you have to ride out the rough spots and talk things over. You can’t just cut and run every time there’s a problem or a misunderstanding.”