Chapter Two #2
The steaks were juicy and tender. As for the house salad drizzled with vinaigrette dressing and the twice-baked potatoes? Equally delicious.
Finn enjoyed the meal. However, he couldn’t help worrying a little about Kenzie. She’d seemed fine after her visit to the doctor and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t hover. But was she really okay?
When their server cleared the plates away, Finn ordered a second whiskey and Kenzie said yes to a decaf with cream.
The waitress left and Kenzie asked quietly, “Is something wrong?”
He started to lie and say there was nothing. But he looked in her shining eyes and somehow the truth slipped out. “I was surprised to see Rufus on the sidelines in your place this morning. He said you had a routine doctor’s appointment. And I did kind of wonder if you were…alright?”
She blinked and leaned closer. “Finn. I’m fine. Honestly. And Rufus is great. If one of the players gets injured he will know what to do.”
“I believe you.” Finn sipped his drink. “I’m sure Rufus is perfectly competent.”
“So, then, what were you worried about?”
“I just thought maybe you had some issue—you know, with the baby. That maybe you weren’t, uh, feeling well.”
Her blue eyes got misty. “Oh, Finn…” She reached out.
He grabbed her hand like a lifeline. “You’re okay, then? There’s no problem?”
“Finn. What happened fifteen years ago is not going to happen again.”
He shut his mouth to keep from asking how she could be sure of that.
But damned if she didn’t read his mind, anyway. “I don’t have any kind of chronic issue. And I’m well past fourteen weeks, by which time eighty percent of miscarriages happen.”
“Right,” he said. And the past was there, in the space between them, as fresh and painful as an open wound. They’d lost their baby at fourteen weeks.
That loss had been the end of them—of their love that was supposed to last forever. Of the life they’d planned together. Of all the promises they’d made to each other.
His father had really gone after him then.
Finn Sr. had urged him to let the past go and reach for the future.
And Finn had wanted to go, wanted to leave all the pain and heartache behind.
Three weeks after their baby was no more, he broke up with her and headed off to college in Michigan.
He’d always been sure she must have hated him for that.
But right now, those eyes of hers only spoke of sadness and understanding. “I mean it,” she said. “Believe me. All the tests show that this baby is doing great, growing normally. Today was a regular checkup—one that’s been scheduled for weeks.”
He asked, “So…you’re feeling good then?”
She made a joke of it. “What I’m feeling is enormous. And please stop looking at me like I might need an ambulance any minute now. I am fine. My baby is fine.”
The tension in his shoulders eased and he allowed himself a slow, deep breath. “Okay, then. That’s great.” He even managed a smile as he picked up his drink. “Here’s to… What’s her name, anyway?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I mean, I keep making a choice…and then changing my mind.”
“Well, alright then. Here’s to your little girl.”
She raised her coffee cup and tapped it gently to his glass. “To my little girl.” They both drank.
And then, for several seconds they just sat there, looking at each other across the white tablecloth. He felt the echo of the past acutely. Of all the things he hadn’t said, the choices he’d made then that he might have made differently.
Yeah, he’d followed his big dream, even had some success at it.
But right now, with his gaze locked on hers, all he could think of was how much he had loved her, how he’d let ambition and grief and the relentless power of his father’s will make his choice for him.
How different would things be now if he’d simply followed his heart?
“Hey.” She set down her coffee cup.
He blinked the past away. “Sorry. Just…thinking.”
“About something much too sad, I’m guessing.” Her smile did not reach those eyes that changed depending on the light—from blue to green to hazel, and back to blue again. “Don’t be sad,” she whispered.
“I hope you two found everything to your liking.” Ruby Satterfield smiled down at them.
Kenzie nodded. “Thank you, Ruby. It was wonderful. The meal, the service—all of it was excellent.”
“That’s what I like to hear. More coffee?”
“No, thanks. One cup was exactly right.”
“Fair enough.” Ruby granted them a regal nod. “I will be right back.” She bustled away and reappeared a moment later. “Satterfield’s famous crème br?lée,” she announced as she set the tempting dessert in the middle of the table and handed them each a spoon.
* * *
The shared dessert was the perfect ending to a wonderful meal, Kenzie thought.
The mood lightened as they jockeyed for bites of the creamy treat.
Finn talked about coaching, about how the Titans were shaping up.
She loved to see his excitement at building the home team and found herself totally charmed by him—which was why, she reminded herself, that she needed to keep a tight rein on her emotions around him.
This more mature, more perceptive Finn could be dangerous to her wounded heart.
But it wouldn’t be a problem, she promised herself as she claimed the last spoonful of custard and caramel. She’d learned the hard way—first from Finn, and now, from Tate—that getting too wrapped up in a man simply wasn’t for her.
Most of all, she longed for a family of her own—and at last, when her baby came, she would have the family she’d always wanted.
Finn asked, “So how are your folks?”
“They moved to Phoenix five years ago. And then two years ago, they called it quits.”
He blinked in surprise. “They got divorced?”
“Yep. Dad moved to Southern California. Mom stayed in Arizona.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Finn. “They were always affectionate with each other. They loved each other and you and their little shop.” Sally and Dick Osborne had owned Sally’s Gifts and Sundries right there on Central Avenue.
“They used to finish each other’s sentences and laugh at the same jokes. They were just so…solid together.”
“They were solid—at least, back when you knew them. From what my mom told me, once they retired, they just kind of drifted apart. Nowadays, I don’t talk to my dad all that often, but he calls at Christmas and on my birthday.
Mom and I keep in pretty close touch, though.
She’s got two dogs, a cat and a boyfriend—and she loves helping out at her local humane society. ”
“Well, as long they’re both happy—your folks, I mean…”
“They are, at least as far as I know. Mom’s planning to come stay with me for a few weeks when the baby arrives.”
“That’s good. I always liked your mom.”
“And she likes you.”
He sat up straighter. “Likes? Present tense?”
“Absolutely. She called yesterday. I told her you were back in town selling houses and coaching the Titans. She predicted a winning season.”
“Your mom…” He seemed thoughtful all of a sudden. “Always kind, never judgmental.”
Kenzie felt pleased that he remembered her mom so fondly. “Yeah. My mom’s the best, no doubt about it.”
For a long, sweet moment, they simply stared at each other. Kenzie felt a hint of the old magic they used to share—more than a hint, if she was being honest with herself.
But it was no problem. She liked him and she admired him.
And he’d been so great that day last spring, when he followed her into the Grizzly and made her feel better about everything. Plus, she loved the excitement and focus he brought to his plans for building the home team.
He was a good guy and she was really happy that they were becoming friends—and that was all. Friends. Nothing more.
To keep things from getting too personal, she asked him about football practice.
He said, “It’s intense right now, getting ready for the first game of the season. It’s great watching the team dig in and work hard. Yeah, it’s unlikely we’ll be winning the championship this year, but—”
“What?” she said, cutting him off. “Don’t let anyone else ever hear you say such a thing!” she whisper-shouted. “Of course, you’ll win the championship this year!”
“Whoa, Kenzie! Tell me what you really think.” He winked at her.
“I think you’re going all the way this year.” She glared at him across the booth. “Now, say it back to me like you mean it.”
“Hmm. Well, let me put it this way—I do intend to give it one hell of a try.”
* * *
Finn could have sat there in that booth across from Kenzie straight through to the next morning. They had so much catching up to do.
But how would Ruby Satterfield make a success of her new restaurant if the customers hung around indefinitely? He picked up the check and they thanked their hostess for a terrific meal.
Outside, the warm evening had cooled a little. They strolled along Central Avenue under a slowly darkening sky. Too quickly, they reached her street, and from there it was only a minute or two until they were walking up her front steps.
“Thank you, Finn.”
“Anytime.” He was kind of hoping she might invite him in.
But she only smiled again and whispered, “Good night.”
As he climbed into his crew cab and headed for his place, the past felt so close. He remembered everything about his senior year with perfect clarity…
He would never forget the homecoming game. The Titans won it 35–6.
And then, the next night, he took Kenzie to the homecoming dance. He was king, Kenzie was queen. She wore a red silk dress and they danced every dance.
They were inseparable, he and Kenzie, all through senior year.
They used to sneak off to be alone together in his old Ford pickup.
It took flexibility, a lot of it, and determination, too—making love with their clothes half on and half off, trying not to bang their elbows or knees on the steering wheel.