Chapter 17 #2
“I am between a rock and a hard place with you, exactly like I was at EEC, toward the end. There’s a reason I can’t talk about what’s going on with the camp–or what is not going on with the camp– and a mature adult who can see that would let me explain to the best of my ability what’s going on. There’s more to this than you know.”
“From my position, it’s pretty simple. You lied to me. Once someone lies to me, trust is gone. It’s black and white because lying is binary. You do it or you don’t.”
“What about white lies? What about lies of omission to save someone’s feelings?
What about competing interests, like an NDA you can’t break versus a friend who doesn’t understand you cannot break it?
What about telling your dad you’ll help run the business when you really don’t want to?
You lie, Kell. We all lie. You just draw your lines and act like they’re moral when they meet other needs.
And for some reason I’ll never understand, you have something inside that needs to paint me as some kind of bad guy.
And at the same time, you’re wooing me and taking me out on a beautiful date and promising more. ”
He started to leave–needing space, needing room to explode, hating her words but knowing some of them were right–but Rachel blocked the door, moving with him as he tried to get through, her face finally settling inches from his as she stood on tiptoes.
“You will listen to me this time, Kell!” She didn’t raise her voice, but she spoke with a command and intensity he’d never heard from her before. He felt like the hair on his forehead blew back.
His mom caught his eye and she nodded.
He leaned against the edge of the conference table, folding his arms over his chest.
“Fine. But nothing you say is going to matter.”
Because you broke my heart again, he didn’t add.
“There’s no hometown to run away to now, is there?” Rachel began to pace in the small room. Boyce, Lucinda, and Deanna moved against a wall like they were in a line-up and Rachel was identifying a perpetrator.
“Five years ago, you disappeared,” she snapped at Kell, “and I was too afraid to make you let me have my say, but you know what, buddy?” She poked his chest, harder than he expected, the anger behind that finger bigger than he’d ever guessed. “This time you can’t run!”
His mom took a seat and leaned forward on the table. Might as well have gotten a big old tub of popcorn and a diet soda. Lucinda’s eyes flared, while Boyce looked at Kell with an expression that said, You’re dead meat, man.
“You are a stubborn jerk! You get these pig-headed ideas and you won’t let them go. Five years ago, you were awesome! The D.C. version of Kell was who I fell for. And then I came here and fell for THIS version of you, and you know why?”
Stunned. He had no words. She was yelling at him, but wasn’t saying what he expected. He was being yelled at about her… attraction to him?
“I–“
“That was a rhetorical question!”
“Uh–”
“BECAUSE I LIKE ALL YOUR VERSIONS! Every part of you, even the grumpy Deke version that day we glued ourselves together. The Kell whose lap I straddled, driving to the ER. The Kell who cut the skydriver out of a tree. The one who built me a fire. The one who said we should wait to have sex, then covered me with a comforter while I slept on your couch.”
Lucinda looked scandalized. His mom looked like she’d won Mother of the Year.
“The one who went to all that trouble for our date. Who pitched in to help the flower shop. All those versions make you who you are, and I see them, Kell. I like them. I want to get to know more of you. All of you!”
If this was some kind of trick to get him to stand down from being angry at her, it was working.
“But you don’t seem to extend the same respect to me, do you?
You think there’s some awful, scheming, backstabbing Rachel inside me who is just salivating at the thought of deceiving you.
Or proving you're a sucker. Or–I don’t know what the hell you think, because you won’t TALK ABOUT IT!
You won’t LISTEN TO ME! I didn’t hurt you five years ago.
I didn’t work with Alissa to turn you into some kind of tool.
I never did it, and you’ll never, ever believe me, will you? ”
Breathing hard, like she’d run a sprint, she poked him again in the chest.
“Rachel, you can’t–”
“Can’t what? Tell my version? Because I have versions of versions, Kell! I’m a whole, full woman who has been nursing five years of hurt about you, too. And I came here to cement a deal but I fell in love instead!”
“With me?” he choked out.
“I fell in love with this stupid, backward town!”
“Hey, now,” Deanna and Boyce said in unison.
“IT IS MY TURN TO TALK!” Rachel shouted, holding up a palm at them.
“I fell in love with how charming this place really is. People care about each other. The touristy, lovey-dovey stuff is cute and pays the bills. I get it. You think you’re selling some kind of over-the-top Valentine's Day fantasy, but people come back over and over because the town makes them feel loved. I feel loved here.”
“You do?” Kell asked quietly.
She looked at Deanna. “Yes.” Then she looked back at Kell. “By everyone but you.”
Pain flashed in his chest.
“So why didn’t you tell me that Markstone's wants to buy the camp? Why did you lie to me?”
“First of all, I can neither confirm nor deny that Markstone's wants to buy the camp,” she said officiously, making his blood boil. “Second–”
“You’re doing it again. Business first, people second.”
Her eyes narrowed, shoulders dropping, chest expanding with a long, slow, deep breath that was more powerful than any other act. In real time, Rachel was responding to him, listening, working off his cues.
“I want you to think very, very carefully about what you’re saying, Kell. Some words can never be taken back once they’re out.”
An electric line ran from the base of his neck down to the small of his back, connected directly to her words, her heart, her tone. She was calling him out and striking at the core of the conflict between them. If he was wrong, this was irrevocable.
“I’ve seen you do good, Rachel. Seen you care.
Watched you jump in and help for no reason other than kindness.
You didn’t have to help me out of a business bind, but you did.
Didn’t have to make amends after that hot mic incident, or email your ideas to Tom.
Even Cally–you didn’t have to give Cally love, but you have.
You certainly took the lead when our date was interrupted by the flower crisis.
But Rachel, I can’t tell if that’s all really you.
It’s like you’re almost that woman. Not quite, but almost.”
As he said the word almost, she flinched, like someone stuck a live wire against her wet skin. The second time he said it, her throat spasmed, a shaky breath fading to nothing.
His mom crossed the room, inserting herself between them. “Kell, no. You need to understand.”
“Wow. Just… wow.” Rachel shook her head, furious tears rimming her eyes.
“You really think that about me? Screw you, Kell. I’m not almost anything.
I am fully me. And I am sick and tired of not being enough.
Not enough for you, not enough for my family, not enough for my job.
I am enough. I am whole and real and here and you don’t believe me.
You’re so afraid of being vulnerable or a sucker or whatever, that you’d rather be alone.
Fine. I’m out of here. You get your way. Congratulations.”
Grabbing her bag, she looked back at Lucinda and Boyce. “I hope you make the right decision. Listen to Deanna.”
And with that, she stormed off, leaving Kell with clenched fists, an aching heart, and waaaaay too much adrenaline pumping through him.
“Can you believe that?” Boyce said softly, a low whistle following.
“Right? She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?” Kell replied. “I came here to tell you she wasn’t untrustworthy, and then she proves me wrong. Again.”
“That’s not what I meant, Kell.” Boyce’s tone was sharp. “You didn’t hear her out. Rachel’s right. And you’re wrong.”
“How am I wrong? Mom came here to tell us about the plans Rachel’s company has to buy the camp! She knew and said nothing.”
“Kell,” Lucinda said in a withering voice. “How do you think your mother knew to call Joanie and Paul and ask if any other buyers were interested in the camp?”
He frowned. “I–I guess you were just making sure?”
“Why now? And how would Deanna know to ask if the interested buyer could be Markstone's?”
Wincing, he shut his eyes, dawning recognition making him feel even more raw. “Mom?”
“You know the answer, Kell.”
“Rachel told you?”
“No,” Deanna said pointedly. “Under absolutely no circumstances did Rachel tell me anything. Because if Rachel were to have, oh, hypothetically learned this, she could face legal action from her employer if she were to tell anyone. She could also be run out of her industry and find herself unable to be hired, ever, for violating a strict confidentiality contract. Rachel saying a word to me would be an act of self-sabotage. Almost an act of self-sacrifice, even. So,” his mom said, standing up and crossing the room, getting in his face the way Rachel just had, “Rachel did not, and would not, ever tip me off about what Markstone's is up to. I freely, on my own, because I had a whim, called up my old friends Joanie and Paul and asked some questions.”
“Oh, God,” he groaned into his hands, covering his face with them, the light stubble judging him alongside the three folks in the room.
“That young woman has been tormented and pulled in too many directions by complex forces behind the scenes. By not saying a word about this whole mess, and doing everything in a perfectly legal way, she’s risking a relationship with the man she says she is falling in love with.
But she was trapped, because if she has said a word, which she did not, she would have been sacrificing her career for a town she’s only known for a week.
A week! She took a huge leap in not saying a word about this whole mess.
Add in being haunted by the Ghost of Kellan Past for five years, and–”
“Mom, I–”
“And you! You’re throwing away the best kind of love just because your pride walks around crouched in attack mode, carrying a beard-covered spear!”
“That makes no sense.”
“NEITHER DOES HOW YOU TREAT RACHEL!”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“You were hurt. Everyone gets hurt by people they trust. The mark of maturity is learning from that hurt. Not carrying it around like it’s some pain trophy you silently hold up so people stay away.”
“I don’t–”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t do that.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. Took another breath. Stood tall and looked up at the ceiling through another breath. Then slowly, he opened his eyes, looked at his mom, and said:
“I didn’t know it was that obvious.”