Kendall #2
I pulled my car up to a friend’s house, as far up the driveway and as close to the door as I possibly could, so Josie wouldn’t have far to walk.
She’d told me over and over that she wasn’t disabled and didn’t need to be coddled, but…
I couldn’t help but feel overprotective.
We still had a few months to go, but she looked kind of huge.
Like a bubble that could be easily popped with one tiny pinprick.
As she waddled up to the door, I carefully hoisted the covered dish of blueberry cobbler I’d made that morning out of the backseat and walked it up.
“Yes!” Megan greeted us excitedly as she let us in. She’d been in the drama club alongside us for all four years of high school, and now her husband was a teacher at that same school. “You’re a lifesaver!” She grabbed the dish out of my hands to hurry it over to her kitchen counter.
She’d asked (begged) me to bring something over that she could serve and pass off as her own, since her ultra critical mother-in-law was coming to dinner and always seemed to find something to complain about.
“Yeah, just stick it in the oven for, like, five minutes to warm it up before you serve it,” I advised as Josie and I settled onto chairs at the dining room table.
“Will do,” she promised, before snatching open a drawer and pulling out one of those big three-wick candles in a deep blue color. The picture on the label was of a fat slice of blueberry pie. “My secret weapon,” she said, before letting out a maniacal laugh reminiscent of a cartoon villain.
“Sneaky,” Josie commented, grinning. Megan scoffed at the response.
“You wouldn’t get it! You’re totally blessed in the mother-in-law department.”
“Rebecca is pretty great,” she admitted, propping her elbow on the table before resting her chin on her hand. “I know I’m lucky.”
“Every freaking time she comes over here, she finds something wrong. Last time, she implied I was starving her son because I had the audacity to serve a salad with dinner. Tony doesn’t like salad,” she simpered, in a snobby imitation.
“The man was surviving on hot dogs and instant ramen before we started dating. Excuse me for wanting the father of my future children to live past 50.”
After hiding the evidence of all cobbler-related crimes and asking us if we wanted drinks or snacks, Megan sat across from us at the table.
“Where is Tony, anyway?” I wondered. “He’s not helping you set up for everything?”
“I let him go off fishing this morning,” she said, sighing. “He’s been busting his ass working extra hours already, and the school year’s barely started.”
“Already?” Josie echoed.
“There’s been scheduling issues for, like, two freaking years over the damn football team. So everyone ends up being jostled around for whoever has to cover.”
“What do you mean, cover?” I asked.
“They can’t find a permanent coach,” she explained. “No one wants to do it. I mean, I don’t blame them. Who would want to be a high school football coach in a place like this?”
“Hey, the Cardinals were good when we were in school,” I argued, furrowing my brows together. Rhys had been the quarterback in his senior year, when I’d been a freshman, and they’d won some kind of big championship. “What about that guy? What was his name? Coach Whitman,” I remembered.
“He’s retired,” she said dryly. “He was already getting up there in years when we were in school, in case you don’t remember.”
“Oh, yeah,” I agreed, pursing my lips.
But when the mental image of Rhys at the picnic popped into my head, the patient way he’d directed the kids while they’d played, I let out a little gasp.
We’d watched dozens of games together now, and he was always griping about bad plays and poor decision-making on the coach’s part.
He knew the rules maybe a little too well.
I was pretty sure coaching had never crossed his mind, but I knew that having a job even adjacent to playing football would absolutely thrill him.
“What?” Josie asked, surprised by my shocked sound.
“Ah, nothing,” I said quickly, shaking my head.
With how often Rhys and I had been sneaking around together lately, saying anything to remind anyone that the two of us even knew each other felt like too much of a risk.
Definitely safer to play it cool. “I just couldn’t remember if I left my hair straightener on when I left the house.
But, you know what? It has a safety shut-off function, so it’s fine. ”
“You’ve been so weird lately, Keke.”
She and Benji had already accused me a couple times of seeing someone.
Benji especially was way too aware of my habits, and the mere fact that I’d been online gaming with him less seemed to be enough of a clue for him.
For that reason, I’d been making more of an effort to go over to their house to hang out and have dinners and stuff.
That way they wouldn’t feel the need to pop over unexpectedly to my place.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“What’s going on?” Megan asked, tilting her head at me curiously.
“He has a secret boyfriend,” Josie explained for me.
“I do not!” I denied. “I told you guys that you’re wrong about that.”
“What’s his name?” Megan wondered, taking a sip of the Coke she’d poured for herself.
Sighing, I only shook my head. “There’s no name. There’s no guy.”
“You know,” Megan said, tapping her fingers on the table before pointing at me. “If you won’t say a name, it’s probably because it’s a guy we all know.”
“Oh my gosh!” Josie said, gawking. “That’s so true!”
“That’s an insane line of logic to follow,” I stated, but I knew showing any kind of emotional reaction or distress would only increase suspicions.
On top of that, Rhys was gone so much from his house nowadays that it would be too easy to put two and two together if anyone started thinking hard about it.
Well, maybe. I wasn’t sure how willing everyone would be to believe that the ultra-masculine Rhys Kensington was bisexual.
But I wasn’t trying to risk it. I still needed time to work him over on the idea of falling in love and staying with me forever in a real, healthy, defined relationship with labels and that we didn’t have to hide.
That wasn’t going to happen if he was forcibly outed.
Giving a casual shrug, I tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “When my dry spell is over, I’ll let you know. And you can meet him.”
“That’s not what Benjamin says,” Josie countered in a sing-song voice, but she did let it drop after that.
We shifted topics to stuff that was going on around town and Josie’s upcoming baby shower, eventually landing on the abandoned house on Mulberry street.
The two of them expressed disdain for the fact that it was likely going to be sold to some shitty temporary rental property type company, but thinking about that house being torn down made my heart ache.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so stuck in the past, but it was devastating to think about.
“My aunt knows the lady who owns that house, you know,” Megan said.
“I mean, she doesn’t live here, of course.
She inherited it. My aunt said she feels bad selling it to that business but no one around here can afford to buy it.
And really, who the hell would want to move here?
I don’t think she’ll hold out much longer, honestly. ”
I sighed, knowing she was right.
“I wish I could buy it,” I groused. Josie gave me a sympathetic look before rubbing a few comforting circles onto my back.
“Maybe someone will change their mind last minute,” she said, frowning.
“Yeah, maybe.” But I wasn’t really convinced.
I had some money saved up, but nowhere near enough for a down payment. And I didn’t have enough credit history for a home loan. Most banks didn’t include digital content creator in their lexicon of reliable and trustworthy jobs.
All I could do was watch as the place that had been my secret little sanctuary got snatched up and destroyed by some greedy, soulless corporation.
I wished I could protect it like it had protected me for so many years, but I just couldn’t.
The thought was so saddening that honestly I was kind of glad when Megan glanced at her phone and let out a panicked yelp.
“Oh my god, you guys! She’s on her way right now. You have to scram!”
After reminding her about the reheat instructions for the cobbler, we scrammed.
I dropped Josie off at home, where Benjamin came out and talked to me through my car window.
We recapped the plans for Josie’s shower, which was happening the very next weekend, and I made plans to come over and have dinner with them the night before.
On the way back to my apartment, I tried not to think about the house on Mulberry, because it made me sad.
Rhys had texted me that he was coming over, and I knew he’d already let himself in and would be waiting on me, so that helped.
I was sure I could utilize him in some way that would be sufficiently distracting.
THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND, Josie’s baby shower was going off without a hitch.
I’d stayed up late prepping all the chocolate toppers and fillings, then gotten up early to bake the three different flavors of cupcakes I’d decided on.
I’d sprung for cute and sweet flavors like lemon blueberry, vanilla bean and honey, and peanut butter chocolate.
I got over to the Kensington place early to set up.
Rhys had slept at home so he was up bright and early, ready to help.
Mom assigned him to string up the high decorations the rest of us couldn’t reach, all in the yellow and pale grey color scheme they were doing the nursery in.
They’d decided to wait until the birth to find out the sex of the baby, going gender-neutral for the party and opting out of any silly reveal elements, on the basis that they didn’t want to start putting any societal pressure on the kid before it was even born.