by Amy Vastine
If only it was that easy. Kendall feared just how far today was going to set him back. “He needs time to process what he thought he saw. I’m just going to leave him alone for a little bit.” She wrapped her mom up in another hug, this one full of appreciation. “Thank you, though.”
“Call me tomorrow,” her mom said as she squeezed Kendall a little tighter.
As soon as the door closed behind her mother, the phone rang. Kendall was relieved that she didn’t have to experience the silence she knew was waiting to greet her until she looked at the caller ID. Trevor’s father never called when he was anything other than miserable. Kendall almost wished for the quiet.
With a deep breath, she pushed the talk button on the phone. “Hi, Paul.”
“Oh good! You’re home. I planned to leave a message since Simon is usually being shuffled all over the city because of your schedule.”
In the year since Trevor died, his father had gone from the man who believed his son could do no wrong to the depressed and delusional man who believed that his daughter-in-law could do no right now that his son was dead. Paul once had the audacity to suggest Simon’s selective mutism was related to Kendall’s “selfish need to work.” His wife, Nancy, had been a stay-at-home mother and, according to Paul, that was the reason Trevor turned out the way he did.
However, unlike Paul, Trevor hadn’t made millions of dollars for Kendall and Simon to live off for the rest of their lives. Military pensions and dependent compensation weren’t nearly enough to pay off the debts Trevor had left behind or provide the life Kendall wanted for Simon. Taking the leap and partnering up with Owen had definitely provided her with a much-needed artistic outlet, but it was far from a selfish decision.
“I’m working from home this afternoon.” It was a small lie. Kendall planned on doing some work. Plus, telling Paul that Simon had to leave school would only lead to some condescending comments for which Kendall had no patience today. “What’s up?” she asked, keeping her voice light and upbeat.
Paul was the complete opposite of light and upbeat. She could hear the clinking of ice in an empty glass. “Can I talk to Simon? I really need to talk to my boy.”
“Oh...I’m sorry. He crashed after school. Fell asleep watching some TV. Long day and all.” This was a bigger lie than the last. And part of her felt terrible about it. The man had lost his wife and his son within a year of each other. He was lonely. On the other hand, Kendall felt justified. Without Trevor to dote on, Paul had become bitter and fixated on Simon. The little boy represented everything he’d lost when Trevor died, and Paul was bound and determined to hold on to him with both hands.
Simon, however, found his grandfather a little overwhelming. So much so that he never spoke around him and begged his mother not to leave them alone. He told Kendall that Grandpa Montgomery only wanted to talk about his dad and it made him too sad.
“Well, go wake him up,” Paul said. “It’s not good for him to sleep in the afternoon at his age. You won’t be able to get him to bed tonight, and then you’ll wonder why you have trouble getting him up in the morning. This is half your problem, Kendall. Trevor would have made sure Simon kept a consistent routine. Children need a consistent routine.”
Apparently a lecture was unavoidable. Kendall plucked a pencil from the holder by the phone and began doodling on a notepad while her father-in-law enlightened her for the hundredth time about the way to perfectly parent a boy. This was something Paul didn’t feel Kendall’s parents could properly teach her because they only had daughters. Raising sons was not the same as raising daughters, said the man who had one son and no daughters.
“Trevor was such a good boy when he was Simon’s age. That’s what proper parenting accomplishes. When you’re in charge—more importantly, when you’re present—boys respond. Of course, a boy needs a father. I always said that.” Paul’s voice began to crack. Whatever he was drinking was only making him weepy. “It’s so unfair. Poor Simon had the best role model a child could ask for. And now...now he has no one.”
Kendall shaded in the fire she had drawn coming from a dragon’s mouth. Talking to Paul used to make her cry. Now she only felt exhausted. She knew what her father-in-law wanted to hear.
“Trevor was an amazing father and husband,” Kendall said. It was the truth.
Mostly.
“He was, wasn’t he? He really was.” He said before blowing his nose loudly. “And a hero, too.”
Kendall crumpled up the sheet of paper into a ball and tossed it into the garbage. “Maybe Simon and I can drive out to Lake Forest this weekend. Are you going to be home Sunday night?” She was going to regret this later.
Trevor’s father was a partner at one of the bigger investment banking firms in the city. When she first met them, Kendall thought the Montgomerys had more money than anyone she’d ever known. Trevor’s mother had had a closet full of designer clothes and another one just for her shoes and purses. Besides the mansion in Lake Forest, they had a summer house in Michigan and a winter home in Naples. There were also several rental properties, including the house she and Simon currently lived in. There was no way Kendall could afford to live in Lincoln Park otherwise. As much as she hated needing Paul’s help, she loved being close to her family.
Kendall heard him capping the crystal decanter in the background. “I fly out west Sunday afternoon. You could come for lunch on Saturday. If the weather’s nice, Simon could ride the horse.”
“We’ll see. I’ll call you later this week, all right?”
“Sounds good. Tell Simon I called. And that I love him, okay?”
The familiar guilt poked Kendall in the gut. She should have tried to get Simon on the phone. He wouldn’t have said a word, but at least Paul could have spoken to him. “I will.”
She hung up and climbed the stairs to Simon’s bedroom like she was hiking up Mount Everest. Slow and steady, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. She hated when he wouldn’t talk in front of other people, but when he refused to speak to her, it was torture. She feared they’d soon be eaten up by the silence.
She knocked softly on his door, giving him a chance to let her in. He didn’t answer. Her hand gripped the doorknob as her forehead rested against the wood. “Simon.”
No answer.
She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. From the other side of Simon’s twin bed, she could see the top of his head, his cowlick stuck up like it wanted to make sure she didn’t miss him sitting there.
Kendall walked around the bed and joined him on the floor. He had all of his Hot Wheels lined up in front of him. Cars were his passion, something he shared with his father. He had over a hundred little cars in his collection and used to play with them every day. Anything could be turned into a roadway or racetrack. Nowadays, the cars were stored in boxes under his bed. Simon only brought them out when he was missing Trevor the most.
“Remember when Daddy came home with that bright yellow Mustang?” Kendall picked up a toy car that looked much like it. Simon had a photo of it taped to the mirror above his dresser. “I thought he was crazy. Until I saw your face. Your eyes got so big, I thought they were going to pop out like they do in the cartoons.”
She smiled at the memory. She hadn’t only thought Trevor was crazy, she had been so angry. He’d spent way too much money on a car they didn’t need, but he promised her it was no big deal and the expression on their son’s face made her want to believe him. Trevor had a way of making her forget her head. With him, her heart made all the decisions.
Simon took the car out of her hands and turned it around and around in his.
“Your dad loved you so much,” Kendall said. “He would have done anything for you. If he could come back from heaven, I don’t doubt for a second he’d do it.”
“But you can’t come back from heaven,” Simon whispered.
Kendall put an
arm around him and pulled him against her. The words pushed their way through the emotion. “No, you can’t.”
Simon tossed the car aside and wrapped both arms around his mom. He buried his face into her chest. “Don’t ever go to heaven, Mommy.”
In that moment, Kendall knew exactly how it felt when Trevor set off that roadside bomb—destroyed.
* * *
SIMON REFUSED TO go to school the rest of the week and Kendall didn’t have any fight left. She had to bring him to her office twice, and her mom stayed with him the other days. She cancelled her plans to take him to Lake Forest, claiming he was under the weather. Paul wasn’t too happy about it, but Kendall wasn’t up for the million questions and couldn’t deal with the disappointment she’d certainly see on Paul’s face when Simon couldn’t talk to his grandfather.
Monday meant going to Sato’s to meet with the contractors. She couldn’t have a tagalong, and Kendall’s mom had a doctor’s appointment. Simon needed to go to school. They had talked about it several times on Sunday. He knew the expectations.
Kendall woke him up on time and left him to get dressed in the clothes they had laid out the night before. She turned on the stove and heated up the water for oatmeal while she waited for him. Sleepy-eyed, Simon shuffled into the kitchen looking none too happy about going anywhere.
“What two things are you worried about today?” she asked as she set a glass of orange juice in front of him, ignoring the frown.
He shrugged.
She waited him out, making his lunch instead of talking for him. He finished his juice and watched her cut the crusts off his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Seeing Dad and it not being Dad,” he said softly.
Kendall held her breath for a second then spun around. “We aren’t going to see Dad.” She quickly corrected herself. “I mean, it’s highly unlikely we’ll see that man again. If we do, maybe we’ll walk up to him and introduce ourselves. That way, it won’t be weird anymore.”
She prayed they wouldn’t see the man now that she’d promised to speak to him. She could only imagine how embarrassing it would be to approach a stranger on the street.
Hi, my name is Kendall and this is my son, Simon. We just wanted to say hello because you look exactly like my dead husband and my son thought you were him and now hasn’t gone to school for four days. Beautiful morning we’re having, huh?
Nope, not awkward at all.
The teakettle whistled. She poured some water into the oatmeal and set the bowl in front of Simon, handing him the spoon. “What two things are you looking forward to today?”
Simon took the spoon but set it down. With his elbow on the table, he rested his head on his hand. “My tummy hurts. I want to go to work with you.”
It was disappointing but not unexpected. Stomachaches were a sure sign of the yucks. “We talked about this yesterday. Mommy has to go to the restaurant today, and you can’t come with. School is your job. You need to go to your job and Mommy needs to go to hers.”
“It hurts too bad. I can’t go,” he protested, shoving the oatmeal away.
Kendall stirred his oatmeal and pushed the bowl back in front of him. “Eat. It will make your stomach feel better. It hurts because it’s empty.” He frowned but picked up the spoon and took a bite. “What two things are you looking forward to today?” she asked as he ate.
He finished the whole bowl before answering. “Coming home and seeing Aunt Lucy.”
Kendall’s sister was picking him up from school today. Lucy swore she was never getting married or having children, so she reasoned that spoiling Simon was her God-given right.
“I’m sure Aunt Lucy is looking forward to seeing you, too. She told me on the phone that she’s bringing something very special for any boy named Simon who makes it through the whole school day.”
Simon’s mouth twisted then fell back into a frown. “My tummy still hurts.”
Kendall sat down next to him. “Mine, too. I’ve got the yucks about this new job. It’s going to be a lot of work.”
“You have the yucks?”
She nodded and put a hand on her stomach. “Everybody gets the yucks sometimes. But we still have to go to work. I’ll tell your yucks to beat it if you tell mine, okay?”
Simon almost smiled. “Okay. Beat it, yucks!” he said to her stomach.
Kendall jumped in her seat. “Whoa! I felt them run away. Good work, mister. My turn.” She held on to his waist and whispered, “Beat it, yucks.”
“Mom. They can’t hear you when you talk so soft.”
“They can’t?”
He shook his head. Kendall put on a determined face and bent closer to his belly. “Beat it, yucks!” she said firmly. She glanced up into those big, blue eyes. “How was that?”
Simon looked down at his stomach. “I’m not sure.”
Kendall sat back and surveyed the room like she might spot the yucks running away. “Let’s try this,” she said, before tickling his sides. “Beat it, yucks!”
Simon giggled and squirmed. It was the best sound she’d heard in a week. “Stop, Mom. They’re gone. Stop!”
Kendall obliged and stood up. She held out a hand. “Let’s get out of here before they come back, huh?”
With only a moment’s hesitation, Simon took his mom’s hand.
* * *
KENDALL REALLY DID feel the yucks coming on as she got out of the cab in front of Sato’s. The restaurant was located in a great spot not far from the Mag Mile and just a couple of blocks from Ontario. She couldn’t remember what used to occupy this space, but she was going to make sure no one forgot Sato’s.
Owen was waiting outside for her. With coffee, because he was the best partner anyone could ask for. “He made it to school?” he asked, handing her the Starbucks cup.
“He made it. Let’s hope he makes it all day.” She sipped the warm, caffeinated goodness and thanked him.
“Let’s get to work.” Owen held the door open for her. “Oh, K...” He gestured with his head for her to come back outside. Her brow furrowed, and Owen glanced around nervously. “I meant to mention this to you earlier but with all the stuff with Simon, I didn’t want to freak you out.”
The yucks danced in her gut. “What?”
“Don’t panic,” he said, giving her arm a squeeze. “I forgot to tell you something about Mr. Jordan, the restaurant manager.”
Kendall relaxed immediately. She was sure Owen was going to confess being in love or lust or whatever he felt. She hoped this wasn’t about wanting to set her up again because she had no time for men.
“When he finally showed up for the meeting last week...this is going to sound strange...but he sort of looks like...”
Kendall stopped listening because behind Owen, Trevor was stepping out of a cab. Even though her brain told her it couldn’t be Trevor because Trevor was dead, she watched as this Trevor ran a hand through hair that was much too long. Her Trevor always wore his hair short—military short. This Trevor patted his pockets then shook his head like he should have known there was nothing there.
It wasn’t until he looked up and right at Kendall that she noticed the world around her had gone fuzzy, not just the sights but the sounds, too. It was like she was underwater. Owen seemed so far away. Did he see Trevor, too, or was she the only one? Owen’s voice as well as the street noise was muffled. The only thing that wasn’t blurry was this Trevor, who was smiling as he glided over to her.
He was beautiful, dressed in dark gray slacks and a light purple button-down. Her Trevor never would have worn purple. Ever. But it looked so good on him. The sleeves were rolled up like he was ready to do some work. His arms were as tan as the first time he came back from Afghanistan.
She wanted to touch him. Hold him. Cry on his shoulder. Beg him to be real. Then let him have it for l
eaving her, for not choosing her and Simon. She would have done all of that if her arms and legs weren’t numb. There was a tremendous burning in her chest, but the rest of her was frozen.
Trevor’s eyes never left her and his grin widened as he got closer. He was right in front of her, and she wasn’t sure how she was still standing, or breathing for that matter. “You must be the K in KO Designs,” he said in a voice that wasn’t at all like her Trevor’s. It was deeper, rougher.
Before she could say anything or hold his hand like she wanted, the world went from fuzzy straight to black.
CHAPTER FOUR
“SIT HER DOWN over here,” Owen said, clearing some junk off a dusty chair. The poor guy was almost as pale as the woman in Max’s arms.
“Does she have low blood sugar or some kind of medical condition I should know about?” Max asked. He wasn’t sure how she was going to hold herself up when she was unconscious, so he held on to her.
“Not that I know of.” Her business partner was flustered. “You should put her down. She’ll pass out again if she wakes up and you’re holding her.”
Max’s eyebrows pinched together. There was no way he was blaming him for this. Who passed out at the sight of someone? Although... His mother had always teased him about being a knockout. Kendall Montgomery was indeed out cold, and all he had done was smile and attempt to introduce himself. Maybe he had KO’d the K in KO Designs with his devilish good looks. He fought a smile. It was funny, even though it wasn’t.
Her eyes began to flutter open and, though it was absurd to think he had anything to do with her passing out, Max wanted to set her down before she came to. She looked up at him as he set her on the chair.
“Oh, God, did I die?” She was horror-stricken. Her eyes were wide and wild. “I can’t die. What about Simon!” Her hand covered her mouth.
“No, no, no, K. You’re fine. You’re alive,” Owen said, pushing Max aside and helping her sit up straight. “Mr. Jordan, here, brought you inside.”
