Chapter 4 – Jensen
Chapter Four
Jensen
I slipped out early without a word to Susanna. I knew she wondered where I’d gone at 3:30 for the past few Wednesdays, but I wasn’t going to tell her. She’d just nag me about it anyway, especially after the talk we’d had yesterday about Mrs. Kimble.
I went by and got the pizza, which had become a standing order: green peppers and mushrooms with light sauce. Honestly, I was more of a meat-lovers pizza type of guy, but that didn’t matter. I could eat whatever. And the pizza wasn’t what this was about anyway.
Mr. Cristolman had the pizza ready for me when I walked in. I tried to pay for it, as I did every week, but he wouldn’t take the money. He’d refused my payment ever since he’d figured out exactly what was happening. I hadn’t planned on revealing that, but he’d seen us one day and had put two and two together because of the pizza I normally ordered versus what I ordered on Wednesdays.
“Tell Margaret I said hello.”
I nodded and grabbed the box, plus the small package wrapped in foil he slid on top of it. “Thank you.”
“Thank you , Jensen. ”
The admiration in the man’s eyes made me uncomfortable, as it always did. All I was doing was eating a pizza.
Plus, Mrs. Kimble was good company.
A few months ago, I’d been cutting through the park in the town square when I’d spotted her eating pizza inside the tiny indoor conservatory Garnet Bend was so proud of. She’d been sitting alone inside the hexagonal greenhouse-type building that housed a ton of plants, a small water feature, and a few benches—a space open year-round, no matter the weather outdoors. Everyone in town loved it.
But Mrs. Kimble had been looking pretty sad that day, eating her pizza.
Nobody should look sad eating pizza.
I hadn’t meant to go inside and ask if she was okay. I definitely hadn’t meant to sit down and share a type of pizza I didn’t particularly like with the older woman.
But when she explained that she and her husband Harold had had pizza there in the conservatory every Wednesday afternoon since the day it opened fifteen years ago to the day he’d died this past June, I knew I had to stay.
Green peppers and all.
Somehow it had become a Wednesday afternoon tradition for the two of us for the past few months. We ate pizza, and she talked about her Harold. She didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t talk much. And I didn’t mind hearing stories about their fifty years of marriage.
There was rarely anyone in the conservatory on Wednesday afternoons at that time, so I was surprised when I heard voices as I opened the door.
“Oh, I smell pizza!”
That was definitely Mrs. Kimble. She said the same thing every week.
“Hi, Mrs. K.”
“Jensen, come over here, hun. I have someone I want you to meet.”
I made my way over to the bench in the corner where we always sat. I stopped short when I saw who was sitting next to Mrs. Kimble.
Kenzie Hurst.
At least she had more appropriate clothing on today, not high heels and dress slacks.
“Kenzie,” Mrs. Kimble said, “this is my standing dinner date for Wednesday afternoons. His name is?—”
“Jensen Chambers,” Kenzie finished for her. “He and I met earlier this week.”
I was honestly a little surprised she remembered my name. “Good to see you again.”
Kenzie stood up. “I’ll leave you two to your dinner. I don’t want to?—”
Mrs. Kimble patted the bench next to her. “Don’t be silly, dear. We always have a slice or two left over. Stay here and eat with us.”
She looked over at me, one eyebrow raised. I shrugged. “Is there ever any legitimate reason not to eat pizza in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday?”
A smile tilted those full lips. “Not that I’ve ever found.”
Mrs. Kimble took the box and pulled out two paper plates from her bag like she always did. She handed one to each of us. “Wonderful! I’ll use the box as my plate today.”
Mrs. Kimble chatted as we all ate. I gave my normal grunted replies, but Kenzie was obviously better at this than I was. She asked questions to keep Mrs. Kimble talking, even turning the conversation back to the older woman when she tried to make it more about Kenzie.
I had to admit, that impressed me. I would’ve assumed that Kenzie was used to attention and focus on her and that she liked it that way. But even when it was logical for her to talk about herself, she kept directing the conversation back to Mrs. Kimble. It wasn’t hard; all Kenzie had to do was ask about Harold, and Mrs. Kimble would happily launch into a story.
But something wasn’t quite right. Now that I was closer to Kenzie, I could see that she was looking paler and a lot more tense than when she’d dropped her car off yesterday—and she hadn’t been in the greatest headspace then.
Not that she was letting Mrs. Kimble know that. Again, I was impressed. Kenzie might be more big-city than small-town, but she wasn’t letting a lonely widow feel anything but completely seen and heard.
I was almost through my second slice of pizza when Mrs. Kimble jumped up. “Would you look at the time? I’ve got to go!”
“Go do what?” I asked. She always went straight home after our meal.
“I…I forgot I had something I scheduled.” She patted my arm. “Now, don’t you be rude. You stay here with Kenzie and finish the pizza. I’ll see you next week. I’ll be sure not to…schedule anything then. Silly me.”
Mrs. Kimble hugged Kenzie and fluttered out the door, despite both of us trying to get her to stay. We were both standing there just staring at each other as the door closed behind her.
“I think somebody is playing matchmaker,” Kenzie finally said.
I gave her a half smile. “I’m pretty sure you’re right, but we don’t have to stay.”
She nodded. “Yeah, don’t let me keep you. I appreciate the pizza.”
I recognized a dismissal when I heard one. “You’re welcome. I hope to have your car ready soon.”
“Thanks. ”
I turned to leave, but I caught her glancing at the door, almost in fear, as I did. Once again, she looked pale and tense.
Damn it.
I should just leave. It wasn’t my business whether she was struggling with something or not. But somehow, I couldn’t make myself move. I looked down at the small foil package Mr. Cristolman had given me. I already knew what was in it.
“Would you like a brownie?”
That shook her out of whatever had spooked her. “What?”
“The pizza place knows I have a standing dinner date with Mrs. Kimble on Wednesdays, and the owner sneaks us a treat. In her oh-so-subtle attempt to make herself scarce, I guess she forgot about them.”
Kenzie raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Or she was trying to give you a secret weapon. Who can resist brownies?”
“Would a brownie help?”
“Help with what?”
“With whatever has that look on your face?”
She sat back down on the bench. “I don’t think a brownie is going to help with that, but I’ll take one anyway if you’re offering.”
I unwrapped the foil and offered it to her, sitting down on the bench. She began nibbling at it like she wanted to make it last as long as possible. And damned if that wasn’t fucking adorable.
“How’d you end up here with Mrs. K?”
“She was here when I came by, and we started talking. We’d already been chatting a couple hours when you got here.”
“She’s a nice lady.”
Kenzie studied her brownie like she was trying to decide which part to eat next. “Very nice. Misses her husband very much. I enjoyed talking to her, and I was glad she was here.”
They’d talked for two hours? I had misjudged Kenzie. “How’d you end up here in the conservatory?”
“I had an…issue, and I had to go see Charlie. I’m sure you kn ow him, right? The police chief?” She took another tiny bite. “Of course you do. He sent me over to you about the car.”
“Yes. And also, pretty much everyone knows each other here.”
Another nibble. “Small town.”
“That’s right. I assume you’re not from a small town?”
“Denver. Much bigger.”
I grunted in agreement. She took another little bite.
“Is everything okay? Did Charlie get you what you need?”
“Yes and no. Charlie reminded me of why I’m in Garnet Bend.”
I had to admit, I would love to know more about that. Not only out of sheer curiosity but because I’d like to know more about Kenzie herself. She obviously wasn’t the self-absorbed person I’d pegged her as yesterday. Not if she’d spent the afternoon talking to Mrs. Kimble.
But I also understood not wanting to have someone all up in your business when you didn’t really know them. So, I decided not to push for details. I took a much bigger bite of my own brownie.
“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?”
“I figure it’s none of my business unless you want to tell me.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What would be your guess?”
I leaned back against the bench. “My first guess would’ve been something to do with professional burnout. But since Charlie sent you to me with the car, and then you saw him again today, I’ll assume it’s something a little more than that.”
She nodded. “I’m impressed. You’re observant.”
“I’ve never been much of a talker, but I do try to take in details of what’s going on around me.”
She took a bigger bite of her brownie. “I ran into a…little trouble back in Colorado.”
“Someone trying to hurt you?” That did not sit well with me. At all .
“How do you know I wasn’t the one causing the trouble?”
“Not to sound all supersleuth, but I assume you wouldn’t have gone to our police chief twice if you were the big lawbreaker.” I finished the last bite of my brownie. “Do you want to talk about your trouble?”
“Not really. I just want it to be over and get back to my regular life. I’m here so that can hopefully happen.”
“Well, I’ll try to make sure your car is ready for you for when it does.”
She popped the rest of the brownie into her mouth and stood up. “Thank you. For dinner. For the brownie.”
“Thank you for the company.”
She gave me a small smile and walked toward the door, turning right before she opened it. “Do you really eat here with Mrs. Kimble every week?”
I shrugged. “As often as I can. We both like it.”
She nodded. “Charlie reminded me today that I’m safe here, even though I may not feel like it all the time. Knowing that there are people like you here who take care of people like Mrs. Kimble? That helps me believe that what Charlie said was true.”
She was out the door without another word, leaving me with more questions than answers.