21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ETHAN
A tie. Of all the ways I imagined that last game going, I did not see it ending in a tie.
“Now what?” Kinzie asks, not bothering to hold back her laughter.
“Now,” I say, collecting my ball, “I help you with your next wedding cancellation, and you tell me all about your mom and Maggie.”
Kinzie’s expression shutters. Shit. I hate watching her retract into her shell. She’s too beautiful to hide.
I’m still assessing her when she looks away. I mentally kick myself for making her feel uncomfortable yet again. But I can’t stop looking at her. No matter how hard I try, her eyes keep drawing me in. If she were anyone else, I would have pressed my lips to hers already and begged her to come home with me. But she hasn’t given the faintest hint that she feels the same.
Clearing my throat, I check the time. “We should get going. You don’t have to tell me tonight,” I add, hoping to lighten the mood. “I’ll listen whenever you’re ready.”
When we head back to the front counter to return our shoes, and Deacon is nowhere to be found, I’m hit with an unreasonable sense of relief.
The temperature dropped significantly while we were inside, though it’s nice enough to keep the windows cracked open.
As I pull out of the parking lot, Kinzie shifts in her seat so she’s facing me. “Do you want to get ice cream?”
I grin because I absolutely want to do anything that will allow me more time with her. “You read my mind.”
Inside Happy Swirls, Kinzie’s mood brightens. She orders a scoop of her childhood favorite flavor, Superwoman, while I order rocky road. The place is packed, so we take our order to my truck.
“Mmm,” Kinzie murmurs, pulling her spoon from her mouth. “Tastes just the way I remember. Do you want a bite?”
I scrunch my nose. “It’s glorified vanilla. No thanks.”
She digs into her cup and pops a small scoop into her mouth. “I know you want to know about my mom and Maggie. But each has their own story, so I’ll tell you about Maggie first. I think that might be easier.”
She inhales deeply and blows it out. Then she tells me about Maggie and her dementia diagnosis. Smiling softly, she dives into stories from our childhood that I never knew about. Stories about how Maggie was the one who inspired her to write. How Ezra influenced her love for all things woodwork. How he taught her to carve and cut and create.
“About a year into college, Maggie started to become forgetful. At first, we didn’t think much of it. But then she’d call me, not remembering where she was or where she was driving. Then the hoarding began. It wasn’t long before she was locking herself out of her house and walking around the neighborhood without her shoes.”
She shifts in her seat, tucking one leg beneath her, and takes another bite of ice cream. I remain quiet, letting her take her time.
With a sigh, she finally continues. “The doctor said specialized care was the best option, but Maggie, who was lucid at the time, laughed at him. She told him to go screw himself.”
A laugh escapes her, but it’s laced with pain.
The next day, I went to over to the house to check on her, and she screamed at me. She told me she never wanted to see me again. She called me all sorts of names. I was shocked and so hurt. Maggie never spoke that way. She had always been nothing but kind and gentle.
“The day after that, I went back, only this time, she didn’t remember any of it, not even the doctor’s visit. Not long after, her dementia began to progress at an incredibly rapid rate. After I graduated from college, we finally convinced her to move into an assisted living home that specializes in long-term care for Alzheimer patients.”
Her body goes rigid, and she blows out a long, pained breath.
With her lip caught between her teeth, she regards me for a silent moment. Finally, she ducks her head and says, “I visited her every month for two years, and not once did she know who I was. Every time I got near her, she’d scream. And then she would cry. The staff ensured me that it was common with patients who were anxious or confused. That the episodes were usually caused by fear or frustration. On the last visit, though, Maggie got so worked up, she called me horrible, horrible things. The director of the facility asked me to take a break from coming. Told me that my presence was doing more harm than good. And so I stopped going.”
Heart aching, I take Kinzie’s empty ice cream cup and place it in my cupholder, along with mine.
She gulps audibly, holding back the tears she’s too stubborn to give in to in front of me. I have no doubt she’s embarrassed about yesterday’s breakdown. There’s no way she’ll let it happen again.
I pull her hand into mine and squeeze it. “I’m so sorry.”
“I should have gone back.” She sniffles. “Tessa visits her pretty regularly, but I can’t find the motivation to go anymore. And the longer I put it off, the harder it gets. It’s just that, aside from…”
Eyes swimming with sorrow, she regards me, then clears her throat.
“That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through.”
Her words hit me hard. Dammit. She’s comparing that experience to me. My disappearance falls into the same category: a life-changing event that left her devastated.
“Have you considered going with somebody? So you’re not alone?” I ask, leaving the other topic we need to discuss alone for now.
“Like with my sister? God, no. I think that would confuse her even more, and Tessa said she still gets agitated easily.”
I shake my head. “Not your sister.”
Eyebrows pinched, she frowns. “With who?”
“Me?”
Kinzie pulls her hand back, suddenly aware that I’m holding it.
“Just hear me out.” I heave out a breath. “You want to see her, but the whole experience with the illness has been traumatic for everyone involved, right?”
She lowers her head again, picking at an invisible speck of lint on her jeans.
“I can be the buffer.”
Straightening, she turns to me. “A buffer?”
“Yeah. My grandma had Alzheimer’s when I was a kid. I don’t remember much, but I do remember it being really hard on my mom. My dad suggested we all take turns going with her to visit as a form of distraction. For my grandma and for my mom. It didn’t always work, but it never caused more harm, either.”
Kinzie’s lips tighten.
“It’s just an offer. Think about it.”
We drive back to Tessa’s in silence, and when I pull into the driveway, Kinzie turns to me. “This weekend, if I called Sunny Meadows, would you come with me?” Her voice is soft, uncertain.
I nod solemnly. This is a big decision on her behalf, and I’ll do everything I can to support her.
Her lips press upward in a shallow smile. “Sorry for ruining the night with my sob story, but I did have a good time again. Two for two.” This time, she does not kiss my cheek.
Carter: We need all hands on deck tonight.
Jill: On a Tuesday?
Carter: Believe it or not, aside from the weekend, Tuesday is our busiest night.
Jill: Okay. I’ll be there.
Carter: Ethan, what about you?
Jill: When are you going to hire somebody?
Carter: Every time I try, Logan vetoes it.
Jill: That’s because you sleep with all the candidates.
Carter: Not true. I did not try to sleep with Agatha.
Logan: That’s because Agatha’s teeth fell out during the interview.
Carter: See? You proved my point.
Jill: Who’s Agatha?
Carter: Somebody I did not sleep with.
Jill: Are there any men applying for these positions?
Carter: Yes, but none of them have been qualified.
Jill: Are you saying Cali was qualified?
Carter: Nope. And that’s why, as a consolation prize, I let her take me home.
Jill: Gross. You know Mom and Andy read these.
Mom: Carter is an adult. As long as he’s using a condom, who he sleeps with is none of my business.
Jill: Double gross.
Carter: Thanks, Mom.
Logan: Ethan, has Kinzie mentioned anything about the social media stuff? Do you think you can persuade her?
Jill: You know Ethan doesn’t respond when he’s at work.
Andy: Holy shit. Can we not do this group chat thing? I’m trying to sleep over here .
Mom: Language.
Despite Andy’s request, the texts continue for another hour. I ignore them all. Like Jill said, I don’t use my phone for personal reasons when I’m working. When I clock out of another uneventful day, I read through them, but before I can respond, a new text from Kinzie pops up.
Kinzie: Are you free tonight?
I can’t help but grin as I type out a response, only to then realize she’s probably only asking me out as a ploy for her sister again.
I reel back my excitement.
Me: I can be.
Kinzie: Great. Pick me up in an hour.
I message my siblings and apologize, telling them I have other plans for the night. Usually, I’d feel bad, but this is Kinzie we’re talking about, and I already committed to helping her this week.
An instant after I click Send, Jill calls me. I spend the first few minutes of the drive home trying to dodge her questions about last night. Eventually, I realize it’s pointless. Jill is good at what she does, and even if she weren’t, there’s really nothing to hide. I had a great time with Kinzie. There was no need to fake having fun like I used to with Victoria.
I cringe when memory after memory of black-tie galas flash through my mind. From dinner parties to fundraising events and all the expensive restaurants in between. Those were things Victoria enjoyed. I tolerated it, but not once did I truly have a good time. Not like I did last night, rolling a ball down a greasy alley and eating ice cream in my truck.
“Where are you two going tonight?” Jill asks as I’m pulling up to the parking lot at the dock.
“I have no idea.” But I can’t say I don’t like the idea of a surprise, even if none of this is real.
“Okay. Take a condom, just in case.”
“Jill,” I groan. I don’t mind that she’s talking about condoms. Out of all my siblings, Jill is the one I’m most comfortable talking to. But it’s irritating that her brain is a million steps ahead of where I am.
“What?” she scoffs. “Wouldn’t you rather be prepared?”
With a shake of my head, I step out of my truck. “I gotta go.”
“Hey, man,” Derrick says, letting me into his house. “You two going out again?”
As I shake his hand, Kinzie appears, strutting down the hallway in a dark blue denim dress that’s cinched at the waist with a black belt. It has long sleeves, but the length itself is short. Very short. Kinzie is all leg. Long, lean, creamy legs.
I’m pretty sure I stop breathing, because the minute she reaches me, she asks, “You feeling okay?”
Snickering, Derrick turns away and heads in the direction she just came from.
I nod. “Yup. I’m great.” Though that isn’t entirely true. My heart is doing this weird thing where it’s beating faster than it should.
“Good. Hold on to that enthusiasm.” She takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. “I was at Maggie’s today, sorting through the boxes, when I got a last-minute request. Typically,” she says, tapping a finger on a folder on top of the kitchen table, “I don’t do same-day cancellations, but it’s right here in Hope Island, so I couldn’t say no.”
I blink at her, then look down to where she’s still pointing. The tan folder has the words Engagement Cancellation written in black ink.
I pull back. “Whoa.”
Kinzie shoots me a semi-sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting this so soon, but it’s kind of hard to pass up an opportunity to make some extra cash when it’s right here in my own backyard.”
She opens the folder, pulls out a piece of paper, and hands it to me. “His name is Will. He’s twenty-five and a Hope Island native. His fiancée, Kaitlyn, said they’ve been together since college and recently got engaged. She loves him, but she’s no longer in love with him. They live together, but Kaitlyn plans to stay with a friend tonight.”
With each new detail, I grind my teeth a little harder. “And you want to do this tonight?” I want her to say no. I want her to say we still have a few days. That tonight, we’ll go out and have fun like we did last night.
Her eyes darken, and she bites her bottom lip. “You don’t have to. We can call a truce. Pretend last night never happened.”
She uses her thumb and forefinger to retrieve the paper from me, but before she can pluck it from my hand, I snatch it away.
“Oh, no.” I will not pretend last night didn’t happen. “We made a bet, and I intend to keep my promises.”
She arches a brow, as if she still doesn’t believe me. As if I still might back down.
“Where is all of this taking place?” I ask, meeting the challenge in her eye.
A large, mischievous smile plays at her mouth. In this moment, I know she has something up her sleeve.