by Jewel Allen
Chapter Seven
Kennedy
If I needed any extra motivation getting a job and a rental, the prospect of moving back into my parents’ house certainly did the trick.
Mom looked alarmed at my arrival. “What’s wrong?”
“Could you please watch the kids for a bit today? Stratton and I have agreed to a trial separation and I need to find a job and lodging.”
“Of course you can stay here.”
“Thanks Mom, but hopefully I don’t have to.”
Mom went upstairs to get Dad. As I stood there waiting in the landing, my mind went back an earlier, less complicated time.
I had descended those steps when Stratton picked me up for our second date.
To my parents, none of my dates were ever good enough, and especially not Stratton Mulder, at 29 ten years older than me at 19. My parents were grilling him when I appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a slim pair of jeans that I knew accentuated my long legs, and a pink blouse that flattered my complexion.
Stratton had stopped listening to whatever my dad was saying and looked up at me, speechless, his glimmering gaze traveling down the length of my body and then back to my face. I knew then (as I had an inkling of the first time we met) that no storm nor person nor parents nor anything short of an act of God would derail him from winning me until I was his wife.
I faltered inside at the memory and focused instead on my dad who was coming down the stairs in his usual deliberate way. Never in a hurry, even if the house were on fire. He’d probably even roast marshmallows while waiting for his son-in-law’s crew to put it out.
“So,” Dad began in his deep, judge voice. “Mom says you’re moving back.”
“Temporarily.”
“I could lie and say I’m surprised.”
“Go ahead and lie, Dad.”
The quip went unappreciated. No one smiled.
I pretended a calm I did not feel. “Stratton and I are going to live apart the next few months. Just until we sort some challenges in our marriage. I will be looking for a rental and a job today. All this is temporary,” I emphasized once again.
Dad took a deep breath and studied me. “You might have arranged all that before you made this move.”
“I did. Evie was sick and I…never mind.” I passed a weary hand over my forehead. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“You don’t just jump willy-nilly into leaving your husband and expect the world to cater to your needs.”
His tone set my teeth on edge. I counted to three. To six. To ten. And even then, the familiar sense of inadequacy made me lash out, “I don’t expect you to cater to my needs. I’m sorry to come barging home again. I will be on my own two feet before you know it.”
Mom looked from me to him, he and I combatants in a continuing battle. “Let’s get you guys some food.”
“We’ve already eaten, Mom,” I said, gentling my tone. I asked her formally, “Do you mind watching the kids?”
“Of course not.”
I wasn’t sure if Mom realized the extent of the situation at hand, and if she would still be so willing to help after a few days. But I would take her kindness with gratitude. “Thank you.”
The first job I applied for was as a receptionist at the Lake Powell Marina Motel. It was situated next to Wahweap Marina which had a breathtaking view of the dock and blue lake accenting majestic red canyons. I smoothed my rumpled blouse and adjusted the belt holding up my slacks on my thin frame. I wished I had worn a dress instead. It was sweltering outside and entering the air-conditioned building didn’t help much.
A black hotel clerk with narrow copper braids gathered at her nape smiled her welcome. My nerves eased a little at her friendliness. Her name tag said LaToya.
“I’m here to interview for the clerk position,” I told her.
LaToya eyed me up and down, as though to gauge if we would get along. I liked to think her broadening smile meant she approved. “I’ll get her for you. One moment please.”
“Kennedy?” a female voice said from the lobby. I turned to look into my cousin Emma’s shocked eyes. “Did I hear you say you’re applying for a job?”
My pride hurt for me to admit, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you come see me?”
Emma, dressed in a simple but smart sheath dress and understated jewelry, was a realtor now. Divorced but successful. She had matured from that over-made-up woman of our younger days to a professional career woman.
“I don’t know,” I admitted with a shrug. “I didn’t think I wanted to be a realtor. Isn’t there a test for it?”
“Yes, there is, but it’s not terribly hard. The online course would take three months—"
“I can’t wait three months, Emma,” I blurted out.
She looked into my eyes. Really looked into them. “Okay, sweetheart. You go knock them dead at this interview, and I’ll be out here for a bit. A client stood me up and I came in for the shade.”
She moved away, and I felt shaken to the core. I had hoped to stay anonymous in my fumbling attempts to get a job. But I guess I’d better get used to it.
A woman in a pantsuit with shoulder-length brunette hair click clacked into the lobby in her pumps, holding up the application I had dropped off the day before. “I’m Heather Cox. Come this way please, so we can chat.”
I followed her to a side door, where she sat at a desk semi-turned toward me. I squeezed into a chair next to her. The room was cramped and claustrophobic, making me wonder about the job itself.
“So.” Heather looked at my application and then up at me. “Kennedy Mulder. Tell me about yourself.”
I had thought about some possible questions, including this. My mind, however went completely blank. I was sure I blinked at her like an idiot.
“It’s okay.” She smiled. “Take your time.”
Her expression was so sympathetic, I almost wanted to cry. “I’m sorry, this is the first time in ten years I’ve interviewed for a job. I’m mostly used to talking to kids.”
I could have kicked myself. That was such a lame confession.
But she said, “I understand.”
Feeling better, my eyes skittered around the windowless room until it settled on back on Heather. “I’m the mom of two kids. My husband’s never around. I pretty much run my whole household.”
She tapped her pen on the application. “Sure, I can see that. What job experience do you have?”
“Paid?” I took a deep breath. “None.”
She gaped at me. “Not even in high school?”
“Well, I babysat for some neighbors. And sewed some crafts and sold them. I cared for my grandma for four years until she passed and I started having kids.”
Heather visibly relaxed. “I see. Okay, sure. That’s great experience.”
We talked a bit more. She explained what the job entailed. It sounded right up my alley. I could always fake a cheerful self.
Stratton’s face crossed my mind. I imagined him seeing me behind the hotel counter. What would he think? For some reason, the thought of him seeing me all dressed up with my blonde hair in a smart chignon and me wearing a chic dress excited and scared me.
I needed to steel my heart from that possibility. This was me trying to establish and reclaim my independence.
Heather read over my application again and then she looked up. “Do you have anything else to add?”
I was sure I had blown my interview, so what would it hurt to be honest now?
“I don’t have any paid experience, but I have a lot of unpaid. I run my household and I’m a hard worker.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “I just really need the job right now.”
“Does your husband work?”
“He’s a firefighter.”
“Thanks for his service.”
I was used to these words. Everyone was always thanking my husband for his service. What about his family? What thanks did we get?
I smoothed my pant leg with a hand to keep it from
curling into a tight, frustrated fist.
Heather smiled. “Do you have other questions for me?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
Her fingers formed a steeple as she studied me. Finally, she spoke and I braced myself for rejection. “I normally don’t offer jobs to someone inexperienced in the hotel industry, but I’m willing to give you a chance.”
My jaw dropped open. “You are?”
“You seem very personable. Also, I was once in your situation. Sometimes we need to stretch that paycheck out. I’m sure it’s tough to raise a family on a firefighter’s income.”
I didn’t try to correct her. Money was not an issue between us. If only we could buy time…
“I’m sorry.” I held my hands up to my cheeks. “I didn’t expect you to offer me a job. Do you need an answer right now?”
“Soon.”
I nodded. “Thanks so much again.”
When I came out, I couldn’t see Emma anywhere obvious. Maybe she had to leave.
As I left the motel, I found her outside, talking on her phone. I watched her for a minute, admiring how capable she looked. How far she’d gotten in her career. She owned her real estate brokerage firm.
Emma got off the phone and swung around. “There you are. How did it go?”
I was still in a state of disbelief that I got offered a job. “She wants to hire me.”
“Nice. You going to take it then?”
My eyes sought hers. “You said I could consider real estate.”
“Depends what you’re doing this for. I didn’t realize that you and Stratton are were needing a second income.”
A car pulled up—a family checking in. I pictured our little family, Evie and Ben, and especially Stratton. Trying to stay together, but all these forces of the world were tearing us apart.
“We would, only if…”
With her eyes, Emma prompted me to finish my sentence.
“…if I leave Stratton permanently.” The last few words came out in a rush.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Emma’s face crumpled. “That bad?”
I blinked back my tears, but it was useless. The floodgates opened. The family gaped at me as they got out of their car.
I felt Emma’s hand grasp my elbow and guide me away from the motel entrance. She handed me a tissue and I blubbered for a bit before blowing my nose.
“Want to get a coffee or something?” she asked. “And then you can tell me everything.”
I looked into her kind eyes and nodded.
Chapter Eight
Stratton
I woke and panicked to water overhead.
My head was underwater and I was trying to gasp for breath.
And then I remembered I was home. And all that was just a dream. My sweat drenched the sheets.
The house was eerily quiet. I strained to hear something and realized I was listening for sounds of the children. With all of the overtime I’d been working, this house felt less like a home than the fire station did.
I walked out to the kitchen and started rooting around for some food. I pulled out a carton of orange juice and rubbed my eyes.
Even with the nap, I still didn’t feel refreshed. My eyes burned. But it was still better than going about around like a zombie. Especially after some of the calls the day before. If I had to see one more drowned kid…
I crushed the carton in my grip. I swore as orange juice sprayed everywhere.
I cleaned up the best I could, and then raided the sweet potato pie slice in the fridge and ate it standing up. When I heard the sound of a car pulling up I peeked between the blinds. Kennedy was parking.
She was leaving me, and here she was, back with the kids. Were we supposed to pretend nothing had changed?
Maybe, I could still convince her to stay…
Minutes later, the door burst open and little Ben came running in. He saw that I was eating and ran to join me.
“What’s that?” he asked, pulling down my hand holding the container.
“Sweet potato pie.”
He made a face and ran off again. Kennedy entered with Evie, who ran after Ben. I took a deep breath and hoped I sounded positive. “Hi, hon.”
“Hello.” She veered away from me, toward the other end of the kitchen.
“How’d things go today?”
“Good.” Her voice sounded raspy. I wished I could do something more to ease her pain. Mine. And then I realized I didn’t know how to bridge the gap between us. It was like I had been out of practice for so long.
Stupid, stupid Stratton.
I could lose this woman forever. God, I prayed, help me say the right things.
And then, from out of the blue, a fear seized me. “Hey, I was wondering. Is there someone else?”
Distaste crossed her face. She shifted her gaze for a moment at the kids and said, in a low voice, “Do we have to talk about this right now?”
“No.” I turned to the counter, trying to keep a lid on my emotions. “No, we don’t.”
She sighed. “It’s okay.” She sent the kids playing in the living room. “I’m kind of tuckered out. Can we please sit at the table?”
I made myself walk over to the other side of the table, across from this woman whom I hardly recognized.
She kept her voice soft. “I already said we need to stay faithful to each other.”
My eyes traced the smooth contour of her cheek. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…do you even love me?”
She looked away, then back, hitting me like a stab in the back. “I think deep inside, I still do. But I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a couple with you. I’m trying to remember…”
“If it’s any consolation,” I said, “I’d been looking forward to coming home, to hold you in my arms…”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Stratton, please don’t make things harder than they are.”
I had nothing to lose, not at this point. My gaze burned into hers. “Why now, Kennedy? For ten years, you and I have had a few crises. Can’t we just ride this out?”
She leaned back and bit her lip. “Last night, I counted out my savings and realized I couldn’t live away from you for very long, even if I wanted to. I wanted to prove to myself that if I were to stay, it’s because I chose to, not because I couldn’t leave. I’m giving myself five months—”
“That doesn’t make sense!” I growled. “Of course you can leave any time. It’s not like I’m holding you hostage.”
“Maybe I’m not angling for a divorce—”
“Then what are you angling for?” There was more bitterness in my tone than I intended, but I had to find out where all of this had come from.
Her eyes flashed. “Maybe I simply want to find myself again.”
I still didn’t get it. In fact, to be honest, I was pissed off. “You’re twenty-nine, Kennedy, not some woman going through a midlife crisis!”
She stood. “I’ll talk to you when you’re ready to calm down.”
I grabbed her wrist.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do right then. I just knew that I saw red and wanted to punish something. Not her, heaven forbid her, but something other than nothing.
I felt her negating force through my fingers. She would put up a fight. I’d never seen her like this, but I knew she was always capable of this strength. That was one of the things that had attracted me to her.
A deep and abiding love coursed through my veins for her. She may have forgotten how that felt, but I hadn’t. I still wanted her, even though she was ready to discard me.
I loosened my hold of her wrist which threw her slightly off-balance. Lifting her forearm, I passed my lips over her silky-smooth skin.
She drew in a sharp breath and watched my caress with fascination. Anger had blazed between us earlier, but now a different vibe seemed to consume her. A hunger that matched mine.
I let her arm go and confidently guided her head to mine until our mouths found each other’s, coming together in a kiss, need
spiraling from the depths of my soul.
With the stupid table between us.
Maintaining our kiss, I managed to skirt the table and pulled her to me. The contour of her body fit perfectly along mine. My hands roved over the body that bore my children. She had always been my harbor from storms, but now she had snuffed the lighthouse flame and I no longer knew where to go.
My kiss emerged from a lonely place, a yearning for those early glorious days when we thought all we needed were each other.
She pushed me away, dashing my hopes. Apparently she no longer needed me, though she couldn’t hide her labored breathing. Our kiss didn’t leave her unaffected, soothing my ego. I knew her face and her expressions. I’d already been deciphering a lot over the years. And I knew—with those pale blue eyes glittering with passion and her body swaying toward mine—she still desired me. Even if her love ebbed low.
A determined expression replaced her dazzled features.
“Kisses are no longer enough, Stratton.” She spoke each word distinctly through gritted teeth. And then she walked away.
I stood there stunned for one long, bleak and despairing moment. The high from the kiss wore off quickly, like being doused by cold water. Bringing me to a sudden, ugly realization that she was right. This was not going to be a one-conversation fix, no matter how much more convenient it would be, with my punishing schedule.
Something would have to give.
The thought caused my pulse to throb with fear. I‘d already put in so much into my battalion chief testing, to abandon it now in mid-effort would surely ruin my career. If not that, then for sure it would lower my stature in the eyes of my crew. No one would take me seriously if I quit. How could I expect them to give their all when their captain couldn’t?
On the other hand, I was in danger of losing my precious family, if I hadn’t yet. As though to underscore this, I could hear Ben talking to Evie, showing her how to do something on the tablet. When had he become such a wise, big brother? When was the last time I spent time with them? They were growing up without me.
