27. Kennedy
CHAPTER 27
KENNEDY
B radyn’s hardwood floors are going to have holes in them if I don’t stop pacing, and yet, even knowing that, I can’t make myself sit still. Elliot was here about an hour ago and told me that Bradyn had called and was boarding a private plane that will have him home by nightfall, but I’m still restless.
Especially because the sun has gone down and he’s still not here.
Please be okay.
Even the dull ache in my ankle can’t distract me from the fear gnawing at my chest. He should be here by now.
“Here, honey, drink this.” Ruth offers me a mug of steaming tea, and I take it. Not because I want to drink it but because I need to do something with my hands. “Sit,” she orders.
Again, I obey because I’m not sure what else there is to do except continue to pace. His home is beautifully cared for. Gleaming wooden floors, pale gray walls, accents of yellow and blue. Ruth told me it’s because Lani had her hand at helping all of her brothers decorate their homes so they wouldn’t look like college dorms.
It made me smile.
The first smile I’ve had since Bradyn shut that door between us.
“How do you do it?” I blurt.
“Do what, sweetie?” Ruth questions then takes a sip of her tea and sets aside her crochet project.
“Live when they’re out there doing what they do? I’m going crazy, and I barely know Bradyn. I can’t imagine what it must be like as his mother.”
Ruth smiles softly. “My sons go out into the world and bring hope to the hopeless. They spread the love of Jesus by serving others at their most vulnerable moments. When all feels lost.”
“And that helps you sleep at night?”
“No.” She laughs. “But it makes the sleepless nights worth it.”
“My mother had faith like yours,” I tell her. “This never-ending well of it. She was always there for anyone who needed her. Including Olivia. Anytime she’d needed help, my mother was there, aiding her just the same as she would have done for me.”
“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”
“She was.” It feels so good to get to talk about her. To tell stories and stop pretending as though she never existed. It’s a special kind of pain when you not only lose someone but also don’t have the freedom to talk about them. Anytime a memory pops up and you have to beat it back down, it feels like another part of them dies all over again.
“I’m truly sorry for what happened.”
“I want to have her faith. To share that with her, but I’m so angry all the time. So mad at Him for everything that has happened. And I don’t know how to let it go.”
“‘I’m worn out waiting for Your rescue, but I have put my hope in Your word. My eyes are straining to see Your promises come true. When will You comfort me?’”
“What is that?”
“Psalm 119,” she replies. “It’s one I clung to after I lost my fifth child during my first trimester.”
Pain for the woman sitting before me tightens like a vice around my heart. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “I remember lying there, furious. Why would He bring me such light only to rob me of it?”
“How did you move forward? How did you forgive Him?”
“Because His promises were greater than my grief. I know that, even though I will suffer, and have suffered, in this life, there is an eternity of peace awaiting me. It was when I fully turned to Him in those moments of pain that I felt His hand on my heart. His love surrounded me and reminded me that there were still blessings in my life. About six months later, we found Lani. Tommy found her wandering the road in nothing but a diaper.” Her eyes fill. “She was badly dehydrated and exhausted from walking the two miles from where she was abandoned.”
“That’s horrible.” Disgust churns my stomach. Who would abandon their child? What monster would do such a thing?
“It was.” Ruth’s eyes harden with anger I haven’t ever seen from her before. “He drove her straight to the hospital, and as soon as we discovered she’d been abandoned, I filed paperwork so we would be considered for adoption. This little girl needed us. She needed a home, and God brought her to us. I could feel it.”
“And the rest is history.”
“The rest is history.” She smiles. “It was painful to lose my child. But He brought me Lani, and I love that girl as though she’s my own flesh and blood.”
I reach over and touch her hand. “You remind me a lot of my mom.”
“I consider that quite an honor.”
The door opens, and my heart jumps, half expecting to see Bradyn. Instead, the woman we were just talking about steps into the house with a duffel bag. “I have arrived,” Lani announces and shuts the door.
“Thank you for coming.” Ruth gets to her feet and crosses the living room to pull Lani into her arms.
“Elliot didn’t give me much choice. He also didn’t explain to me why I have to be here instead of my apartment.”
I can’t help the wave of guilt that crushes down on me. Ruth glances back with an understanding smile.
“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” I tell her, unsure what else to say. How do you tell someone that you brought war to their doorstep?
“Well, you can tell me all about it after I’ve gotten myself nice and settled in Bradyn’s second guest room. Come on, Bravo, you can escort me.” She pats her hand on her leg, and the dog who’s spent every moment we’ve been here staring at the door, waiting for his dad to walk through, follows her.
Even though the idea of having her so close to me if things go badly is a terrifying one, I’m grateful she’s staying here. Having a friend close by, if we’re still friends once I’ve told her everything, will be nice.
That, and she’ll make an excellent buffer for these feelings I’m carrying for her older brother. Feelings that have only gotten stronger in the hours he’s been away.
The door opens a second time, and the oxygen is sucked out of my lungs when Bradyn walks in. His hair curls out from beneath the baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. One eye is black, his lip split.
But when he sees me, he freezes too, as though he’s drawn to me in the same way I am to him.
“Bradyn! What happened to your face?” Ruth steps in front of me and reaches up to touch her son’s stubbled cheek.
“A slight miscommunication between me and the guy who arrested me. Then another miscommunication between me and my cellmates.”
“Arrested you.” Ruth’s face turns beet red. “I cannot believe they put you in handcuffs.”
“It’s not the first time, and given my line of work, it probably won’t be the last,” he says as he sets his bag down.
“Look what the cat drug in,” Lani calls out seconds before Bravo rushes forward, tail wagging, whining in happiness that Bradyn has returned.
He kneels and pets the dog tenderly. “Good boy. It’s good to see you, too. You did good, boy.”
“You look worse for the wear,” Lani says as she takes a Poppi from the refrigerator. After popping the top, she takes a drink and sets it down. “Are you okay? Need medical attention?”
He chuckles. “No, thanks, Doc. Besides, I’ve looked worse.” He straightens.
I’m afraid to ask him if he’s okay. Afraid to know what they did to him in there. But I can’t tear my eyes away, even though in some capacity, I can recall we’re not the only ones in the room. But he’s here.
Standing in front of me.
Alive.
That flicker of hope that went out long ago flares to life again. Maybe this time can be different. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll all walk away from this. After all, Bradyn Hunt walked into the belly of the beast and survived. Doesn’t that mean something?
“Lani, think you can come help me prep dinner?”
“I sure can.” Lani pats Bradyn on the back. “Glad you didn’t get worse.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Anytime. See you in a bit, roomies.” She heads out the door with Ruth, and they shut it behind them.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, the tears breaking free. It feels as though I’ve been keeping myself together with paperclips and they’re all popping off.
“For what?”
“You got arrested because of me. And your face—what did they do to you?” I ask, rushing forward to touch his cheek.
Bradyn covers my hand with his own then reaches out and cups my face with the other. “Nothing happened to me,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“Your face?—”
“Will heal. I’m okay, Kennedy.” He pulls me in and wraps his strong arms around me. I breathe him in, enjoying the steady beat of his heart against my ear. He really is okay. Really is back.
God, if You’re up there and listening, thank You. The thoughts echo through my mind, and I feel a bit of myself soften to them. To the idea that we’re not all alone. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again. I thought you’d end up just like Olivia. Like the others.”
“Nah. I told you, I’m a hard man to kill.”