Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Kendall
The drive home took fifteen minutes on a good day.
However, tonight, there was a herd of deer crossing the road and taking their damn sweet time, followed by a bunch of wild turkeys—I’d have to look up what they are called—with three males all puffed up, trying to get it on with the females, and all of this was followed by a loose resident from the alpaca farm, and I spent twenty minutes helping Mickey get the poor guy out of the road.
By the time I pulled up to Francis’s house, it had been nearly an hour since we’d signed off the call.
Captain Ortiz had asked me to fill in while he went with the chief to a community meeting that included the Foggy Basin police chief, CHP, and the county sheriff, so they could plan the next joint training exercise.
Between preparing for earthquakes, wildfires, and other potential threats, it was important to collaborate.
I’d done it in Florida for hurricane preparations many times.
I climbed out of my truck and took the steps up to Francis’s front door two at a time. I was about to knock when he pulled the door open.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes wide.
I gave him a puzzled look. “I thought I was supposed to be sorry?”
He gestured for me to come in for a hug and buried his face in my shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Francis?”
He pulled back. “I messed up on the call with Kimo. I spoke without consulting you, and then when you didn’t show up, I thought maybe you were upset and not coming at all, and what is all over your sleeve?”
I looked down and groaned. “That has to be alpaca spit. I got hung up helping Mickey wrangle a runaway named King Louie across the highway. I didn’t want to be so late.”
“Well, come in, and let me feed you,” he said, taking me by the hand. Then he stopped and turned with a shy smile. “But first, what do you think?” He gestured at the wall in the passageway that led to the kitchen beyond.
I gasped.
“Francis,” I breathed. “You did all this?” I couldn’t decide whether to step back and take it in or step closer and view the intricate details of the mural he’d apparently finished.
So I did both. It was a gorgeous landscape, with fields of poppies and lavender and rolling green hills.
Where the sky met the hills, he’d stenciled in a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson.
“‘Dare to live the life you have dreamed for yourself. Go forward and make your dreams come true.’” I turned and appraised him. His expression was, well… dreamy, as if he’d painted the words and now intended to live them. “This really is a mission for you.”
“It is. I don’t regret my life in the Before Times, but now I want more.
I decided not to ignore the hopeful, artistic side of myself anymore.
I fully comprehend that the change in my circumstances have made things possible for me that aren’t for most people.
That’s why it’s so important to me to help other people live out their passions.
So often we put work, family, and obligations first, which, of course we do, but we never prioritize ourselves and the things we want.
I want to make space for people to do that, even if it’s just for a little while. ”
Change in circumstances? “I would imagine working in finance, you might not’ve had a lot of time for artistic endeavors.”
His eyes rounded and that frightened expression flickered for a moment.
“It was more than that. My parents weren’t as tough on me as a lot of Asian American families, but I put a lot of pressure on myself. I’d witnessed my whole life that the only things of value were the pride you got from working hard and money. Does that make sense?”
“It does. So you decided to buck family tradition, huh?”
“Not just family, I guess, but my own expectations for my life. I was hustling at a job that didn’t give me any joy, and I didn’t even realize it. I wasn’t really living, you know?”
I didn’t know how to ask this next question delicately, so I just put it out there. “Is part of the split with your dad because he didn’t approve of your choices?”
He looked away from me to stare at the wall, and his voice got fell quiet.
“He was disappointed in me, and he told me to make other living arrangements.” He cleared his throat.
“Which I did. I stayed with my cousin Max until my settlement came in, and now I’m here.
” He took a deep breath and let it out before he turned back to me.
His smile had returned but his eyes were wet. “Are you hungry?”
“Settlement? Wait… you were living with your parents?”
He laughed and started walking toward the kitchen.
“Real estate prices in Silicon Valley are no joke,” he said.
I took a few quick paces to catch up to him.
“I was saving up to buy a condo. I know, thirty-one seems old to be living with parents, but it’s not in Asian American families, and in the Bay Area—”
“Yeah, but you bought this place.” I didn’t understand, and I was fucking this up.
He turned toward me and frowned. “My family was comfortable, but in no way did I come from money.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just trying to understand. I was out the door days after I turned eighteen. My kids took a little longer…”
He searched my eyes for a minute then sighed.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t be a big deal, but I get it.
” He gestured around him at his mansion that sat on several acres, and yeah, seemed like a pretty big deal to me.
“Look, I got fired from my finance job, and there was a wrongful termination suit. That’s it.
Well… that’s most of it. Part of it. That’s how I could afford this place.
” He let his hands fall to his sides with a loud slap. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“Francis, no,” I said, moving close to him. “I only care because you seem so sad.” I reached for his shoulder, and he stiffened. “I’m sorry. Is this not okay?”
He blew out a breath and shook out his hands. This Francis was so different, so off his confident, saucy game. Every move I made seemed to make the situation worse.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about everything that happened, but I feel like you have the wrong idea about me, and I don’t want that, either.”
I held out a hand to him. “You don’t have to say anything. I asked questions because I want to know you but not if that touches a nerve.”
He took my hand and let me pull him into an embrace.
I was relieved when he relaxed against me.
His willowy build molded against my every muscle, as if he wanted to disappear into me.
I didn’t want to let go. I’d been alone for so long, and I wasn’t great without even basic affection.
I always thought I had the touch version of Seasonal Affective Disorder.
I wanted to know who hurt this dazzling man. I wanted to throttle his father, because even if I was biased when it came to him, there were not a lot of good reasons for a father to kick his kid out of the house, and from what I knew of Francis, I couldn’t see a good one.
“I didn’t come from a comfortable situation.
I joined the military, got married right away, and my wife and I scraped by.
Then I went reserves and joined the fire department, and all of our money went to the kids’ sports and college funds.
Then my dad got sick. He and my mom were divorced, so I took on his care. When we lost our son—”
Francis gasped. “You lost your son? Kendall…”
“Tyson, yeah. It’s been seven years. It hurts a little less now. He went into the Navy, like his old man and his grandfather. Killed in an accident during SERE training. The only way I can abide what happened is knowing he was doing what he loved.”
“I’m so sorry. And here I am boohooing—”
“Hey, no.” I cradled his face and bussed his lips.
“Don’t downplay your feelings. We’ve both had a bumpy ride, and part of getting to know each other is learning this stuff.
It’s not everything we are, but it’s part of the story, that’s all.
” He gazed at me with dark eyes full of emotions, and I finally saw what he hid about himself with his snarky humor and flirty banter.
Whatever happened had shaken him to his core, and his fresh start was all about finding his footing.
And the other part, he hadn’t been able to truly trust anyone who wasn’t part of his family…
and this thing with his father was a huge barrier to him finding success at this fresh start.
I hoped his business endeavor was a massive success.
“I promise I’m not some spoiled trust fund kid.”
“I mean, even if you were… No, I could tell you weren’t spoiled. I still want the terms of our agreement to stand. You?”
“Me too. Can I feed you now?” He offered a hesitant smile, and I hoped that meant we were back on track.
“I’d love that.”
We did as planned. He served fish tacos with homemade salsa, guacamole, and tortilla chips to go with, and we sat at one end of the large dining table, playing footsies.
“Even better than the fried rice.”
“Good. I hope you don’t mind being my taste tester. I’m going to spend the next week trying out meals I can serve for my first retreat guests. They’ll be here next week, and I want to send them a menu ahead of time so we can make adjustments if needed.”
“They’re nuts if they don’t love this. I’m happy to taste for you anytime.” I grinned over a bite of tender mahi mahi, seasoned just right, and he got that saucy smile.
“You’ll taste for me, huh?”
I licked my lips and waggled my eyebrows. “I will. But I’ll also behave, as per our agreement. I’ll ask you some pertinent questions. How about… well, I know it’s not crickets, but what is your favorite bug?”
He burst out laughing. “Bug? Not sure I ever paid attention enough to have a favorite? That’s a silly question.”