Chapter 27 – Kira
KIRA
“ I ’m starving bitch, let's go find some egg white lox frittata,” Toby prods, taking my arm to cross the street.
“I hate to break it to you, but they didn’t install a French restaurant in the two days you were gone. We’re going to the diner, dude.”
“Well I hope they at least bleached the tables since I was there last,” he bargains as Donna’s comes into view. “We didn’t get a chance to celebrate you and West scoring that assload of money. When do you guys get the check?”
“Next week,” I tell him feeling a glow glimmering in my cheeks.
“So tell me how bad it was,” I sigh, opening my menu, wanting Toby to get the rundown of his visit back to socialite hell out of the way so that I can go back to pretending that place and the people in it don’t exist.
“Oh!” He sighs fondly. “It was pandemonium. Not quite as trainwreck as your non-wedding reception but pretty close. Pretty sure there were at least twelve middle-aged, mildly overweight men who had coronaries and/or a mini stroke.
“Did your parents disown you?” I ask as our spotty glasses get filled with ice water and we both order orange juices.
“All ties are officially severed,” Toby announces triumphantly with a dual flourish of his hands and I reach the table to high-five him.
“My parents left early, tapping furiously on their phones.” he muses dreamily before takingHe takes a sip of his juice, grimacing, looking at the glass, and setting it to the side.
“Pretty sure they were assembling their horde of therapists, lawyers, and drug dealers. But that’s okay, I got to enjoy the rest of the gala reveling in repulsed looks, but the best?
I got to have a drama throwdown with your papa. ”
I spray my juice across the table, and Toby shrieks as I cough, reaching for a napkin.
“Ugggh! Disgusting!” He exclaims, digging in his man bag for a package of wet wipes. He hands one over to me before he starts mopping the table.
“You got into it with my dad?” My voice sounds like a pubescent boy who stepped on a Lego.
“Bitch, you need to calm your face because it could not have gone better,” he tries to assure me but I have a bad feeling as he wads the wet wipes up and slides them to the edge of the table. “My parents leaving just set the tone for the rest of the night and tensions were high.”
“So what happened?” I urge my stupid friend. “Please tell me before I hyperventilate.”
Toby rolls his eyes and lets out a huff but obliges.
“So the fundraiser was in total upheaval and your dad was all, ‘Get out of here and take your same-sex lover with you! ’ and I was all ‘ Gladly! ’ And then he muttered something like first my dumbass second-born, and now her delinquent friend. What is happening to this corrupt generation? ’ And I was all, ‘I’ll have you know Kira’s really made something of herself!
She’s found a charming town and helped it reach it’s full potential!
And she’s about to become a land- and business-owner very soon, so you can suck it! ’ And your dad was all ‘WHAT?! ; ”
Toby has an uncanny knack for theatrically imitating my dad’s outraged baritone. And I have to say, I’m enjoying this, until he tells me the next part. “And Hendrix was like, ‘ Yeah, she’s buying the Emerson Inn and she’s going to restore it, which no one else has the balls to do! ’
“Wait, so you told my dad my plans?” I almost choke on a French fry as I lean in, hands braced on the table.
“Yeah, we had to shove it in his face that you didn’t fall destitute when he cut you off. That fucker needs to be taken down a peg or fifty.”
A cold brick of dread starts to plummet down my chest to nestle in my stomach. The bell on the diner door jangles like it’s summoning the devil.
And oh look, he’s here. And he’s got my roommate in his gnarly clutches.
“Check it out, Kira!” Agnes looks triumphant as she leads a formidable gentleman caller towards our booth. “Found me a silver fox outside, and he says he knows you,” she steps aside and waves at my dad with a flourish.
My douche canoe dad buttons his suit jacket with his lips in a line of smugness. Nevermind that it’s hotter than Satan’s taint outside, the dipshit must always keep up appearances.
“Oh Agnes,” my voice trembles, threatening me that I’m going to be sick. Because I’m pretty sure I know why King of the Dickheads is here.
“Tobias,” he turns towards my best friend. “I can actually say it’s nice to see you again. Your recent company has proven to be of great value to me.”
“What are you doing here, assface?” I seethe with narrowed eyes and want to blow chunks all over the stupid smug face he’s giving me.
“I’ve acquired some property here in town. I was just finalizing the paperwork. And that attitude of yours is one of the first things we’ll work on when you move back home.”
“I’m not moving back!” I snarl like a petulant teen. “And what do you mean you bought property? What the hell would you want with anything in Coyote Creek?”
“Oh I don’t know, from what I hear there’s a beat-down old bed and breakfast that could be a lucrative opportunity,” dad counters, and I can gell he’s got a couple Prozac on board.
“Wineberger!” I bark over at the next booth where the mayor is asleep, his plate of half-eaten bacon and eggs in front of him.
“What?!” He jolts awake, his hand coming down and flipping the plate so that the remainder of his breakfast goes flying.
“Did you sign the Inn over to this dipshit?”
“Did I… ohhhh yeah,” Wieberger seems to have his memory dawn on him. “I do remember a few words and a fat check. He said he had great plans for the place. Sounded like a win/win,” he shrugs before nestling back down in his rascal chair and letting his head tip back.
“You comatose, senile bag of farts!” Anges bellows at him with a shaking fist
“Big plans, huh?” I look up at the rich jackass with my hands planted on my hips. “What could you possibly have planned for an old Inn in a tiny town you’ve never heard of?”
“Simple,” the pompous piece of shit folds his hands in front of him with a smug smile that I want to slap off his fat flushed face. “I’m holding it over your head. It’s a great opportunity, really. See, the Wellingtons are willing to give the marriage to Preston another shot.”
“Eww!”
“But obviously, you need some persuading,” he continues, not missing a beat. “That Inn is officially mine to do with as I please. And if you want it to still be standing by this coming Friday, you’ll come back to the city and fix what you broke.”
“So…” I gulp and swallow back a little vomit. “I still have to marry that bag of dicks?” I sputter.
“Only if you want these dear town folk to keep that relic of a building standing,” he lifts a shoulder like it wouldn't matter less to him but I know better. He wants this. He needs it. But that doesn’t mean if I don’t go along with it he won’t follow through.
If anything, it will give him all the more reason.
Agnes looks ready to spit nails, and I remember her wedding and the memories she has of that place. And I know she’s far from the only person who the Inn means something to.
She nudges her shades down on her face, giving her the Terminator effect as she brings her phone to her ear and turns for the door.
No. I can’t let this happen.
West
After having my heart ripped out my Agnes’s urgent phone call, I bolt the short distance from the shop to Agnes’s house to find Kira maneuvering through the front door, a bag over her shoulder and her suitcase wobbling behind her as she tries to get it over the threshold.
“West,” she breathes out as her shoulders slump. “I was going to come see you. I… I’m leaving. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to but I have to,” she raises her hands up, her expression helpless.
“You don’t have to. Stay here. I heard everything. Don’t do what that dipshit says. Don’t let him win.” I take hold of her arms.
“West, he figured everything out. He has me backed into a corner. He’s going to demolish the Inn if I don’t do what he says. I can’t do that to Coyote Creek!”
“This town loves you,” I tell her, trying to give my voice a soothing quality, and who knows if it’s more for her benefit or my own.
“I love you,” I amend my statement with conviction as I take hold of her arms and look her deep in the eye.
“I love you, Kira,” I repeat, solidifying the sentiment.
“No one, not me or anyone else here is going to blame you if we lose the Inn. People are more important than buildings.”
She draws in a deep sigh, mulling over my words. She nods down at the wood planks of the porch before looking back up at me, a sheen of mist covering those crystal pools.
“I love you too, West. And I love everyone in this town. But if I selfishly stayed and let such a big part of the towns history be demolished, I could never love myself.”
“Everyone will love you enough to make up for it.”
She shakes her head, “But there would be blood on it. It would be tainted; every time someone walked by where the Inn used to be, they’d remember I’m the reason it’s not there anymore. This town has given so much to me but I won’t let them sacrifice that.”
“Kira-”
“I won’t let them do this for me. Or you. And as much love as I feel from you and everyone else, there’d be nothing anyone could do to get me to forgive myself. I don’t want that. I can’t live like that, so don’t make me.”
“Kira, I can’t-”
“Don’t make me live that way, West.” She holds a finger up in my face, her blue eyes fierce.
“If you love me, you won’t do that.” That’s a suckerpunch in the gonads.
With that, she lunges herself up onto her toes and kisses the hell out of me.
I wish I could register the feel of her warm lips, but I’ve been impaled by a steel spear of reality, straight through my chest. I don’t feel like I’m even in my own body as she floats down the front steps, her suitcase gracelessly clunking behind her.
I don’t think I even feel myself jump the front steps in one leap or my boots hitting the pavement in thundering strides chasing the black SUV up the road until it’s out of sight.