And because Diem is like a daughter to me, she’s been like a granddaughter to my parents. Which means Diem is important to them, and they want the best for her.
Which is probably why, as soon as my father goes to the backyard to clean up the grill, my mother slides onto the barstool and gives me one of her many smiles. This is her “You have a secret, and you better spill it” smile.
I ignore her smile, and her, and continue to wash the rest of the dishes. But my mother says, “Get over here and talk to me before your father comes back inside.”
I dry my hands and sit across the bar from her. She’s looking at me like she already knows my secrets. It doesn’t surprise me. When I say my mother never forgets a face, I don’t say that lightly. It’s like a superpower.
“Do the Landrys know?” she asks.
I play dumb. “Know what?”
Her head lilts to the side. “I know who she is, Ledger. I recognized her the day she walked into your bar.”
Wait. What? “The day you were drunk?”
She nods. Now that I think about it, I remember her staring at Kenna when she walked into my bar that day. Why would she not say anything to me about that? She didn’t even bring it up when I spoke to her on the phone a few days later and told her Kenna was back in town.
“You told me she was leaving town last time we talked,” she says.
“She is.” I feel guilty when I say that because I’m hoping with everything in me that it isn’t true. “Or she was. I don’t know anymore.”
“Do Patrick and Grace know the two of you are . . .”
“No.”
My mother blows out a soft breath. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
“This isn’t going to end well.”
“I know.”
“Do you love her?”
I blow out a heavy, slow rush of air. “I definitely don’t hate her anymore.”
She takes a sip of her wine and gives this conversation a moment to settle. “Well. I hope you do the right thing.”
I lift an eyebrow. “What’s the right thing?”
My mother shrugs. “I don’t know. I just hope you do it.”
I release a short laugh. “Thanks for the nonadvice.”
“That’s what I’m here for. To tiptoe around this thing they call parenting.” She smiles and reaches across the bar to squeeze my hand. “I know you’d rather be with her right now. We don’t mind if you abandon us tonight.”
There’s a moment of hesitation on my part, not because I don’t want to go to Kenna’s place, but because I’m surprised my mother knows who she is, yet she’s still okay with it.
“Do you blame Kenna?” I ask her after a short pause.
My mother looks at me honestly. “Scotty wasn’t my child, so I felt sorry for everyone involved. Even Kenna. But if what happened to Scotty had happened to you, I can’t say that I would make a different choice than Patrick and Grace. I think there’s room in a tragedy this size for everyone to be both right and wrong. However,” she says, “I’m your mother. And if you see something special in her, then I know there must be something special in her.”
I let her words ruminate, but then I grab my keys and my cell phone and I kiss her on the cheek. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’re staying two or three days. I’ll tell your dad you said good night.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
KENNA
I’m in the shower when I hear a knock at my front door. It startles me because it’s more like an incessant pounding. Lady Diana wouldn’t knock like that, and she’s the only person who has ever been here other than Ledger.
I’ve just rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, so I open the bathroom door and yell, “Hold on!” I frantically try to dry myself and my hair with a towel as much as I can so I don’t drip water all the way to my front door.
I pull on a T-shirt and a pair of panties, and then grab my jeans and head to the door to check the peephole. When I see that it’s Ledger, I unlock the door and then start pulling on the jeans as he makes his way inside.
He seems jarred that I’m not fully dressed. He just stands there and stares at me until I get my jeans buttoned. I smile. “You ditched your parents?”
He pulls me in for a kiss, but I’m caught off guard, because this kiss is more than just a kiss. There’s so much behind the way his mouth presses against mine, it’s like it’s been weeks since he’s seen me, but it’s only been about three hours.