Chapter Twenty-One
The following day, Kenzie looked like hell and felt worse, so of course Frank chose that day to make his meatloaf. Word would get out, and by three o’clock she was going to have to run to keep up.
And of course it was Thursday, so her summer help wasn’t in.
Abby was a high school junior whose parents didn’t want her traveling to get an “official” part-time job, but who had to make enough to pay her parents for her share of the gas and insurance for the car.
She only worked Friday, Saturday and Sunday from midafternoon to close.
When Hannah walked through the door alone at four o’clock, Kenzie was so relieved she had to stop herself from dropping two plates so she could throw her arms around her.
“I heard through the grapevine Frank made meatloaf,” Hannah said, glancing at the specials board. “Thought you might need some help.”
“I definitely won’t turn down the help.” And she definitely wouldn’t ask her if Danny was still at the campground or if he’d gone home already.
Hannah laughed as she walked around the counter and pulled an apron from the clean pile on the shelf.
“I don’t know what your dad puts in that meatloaf, but I don’t think news of even the juiciest sex scandal would travel faster than the news that meatloaf’s on the Corinne’s Kitchen specials board. ”
“He won’t tell me the recipe,” Kenzie confessed, and then she laughed. “I just hope it’s legal.”
The door opened and an older couple walked in, the man’s eyes going directly to the specials board to see if the meatloaf had been crossed out. It hadn’t, and his grin had Kenzie and Hannah sharing an amused look.
By five o’clock, there were customers hanging out in the parking lot, socializing, while they waited for tables to open. Even the counter was full, and she and Hannah didn’t have time to talk about anything other than the diners until things started winding down by seven.
“Why doesn’t Frank make meatloaf on the weekend, when you have Abby helping?” Hannah asked when they could finally take a breath.
“I think it’s because he hates serving spaghetti and the meatloaf puts a dent in those orders.”
“I wish you’d hire somebody available for more hours during the summer so you don’t have to run so much. And so you can take some time off once in a while. You don’t have to do this alone, Kenzie.”
She snorted. “Have you been talking to Danny?”
Hannah tilted her head. “No. What does Danny have to do with anything?”
“Nothing.” She grabbed a cloth and the spray bottle, then started wiping down the counter with enough vigor to take the finish off.
“Stop.” When Kenzie kept wiping, Hannah covered her hand, stilling it. “Talk to me.”
“He had some pretty strong opinions on how I should run my business.”
“Oh.” Hannah pulled her hand back and leaned her hip against the counter. “I can see how that would be annoying, but I hope you know he was coming from a place of…well, a good place.”
Kenzie folded her arms, her attention caught by her friend’s expression. “What were you going to say?”
“This is a sticky spot for me, Kenzie. You’re my friend, and Danny’s my friend. But he’s also going to be family once Rob and I get married.”
That sounded as if there was more to it than a man thinking he had all the right answers. Hannah picked up the cloth and took over the enthusiastic wiping, which would have made Kenzie laugh if her brain wasn’t sorting through conversational puzzle pieces, trying to figure out what was missing.
“You should talk to Danny,” Hannah said firmly, scrubbing at an imaginary spot. “Maybe have a conversation about why a guy might want you to find a way out of your situation so badly.”
Kenzie’s skin tingled and her breath caught in her chest. Sure, if Kenzie didn’t have the responsibility of Corinne’s Kitchen, she’d be free to run off with Danny. She could fold his laundry right side out and help him fix his plot problems.
“Maybe a better conversation,” she said, hoisting the full bus pan onto her hip, “is why a man who has no kids and can do his job from anywhere has such strong opinions about how I should change my life.”
Then she turned and pushed through the swinging door before Hannah could say anything else.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Kenzie regretted her tone. Her friend was in a tight spot, and she could see that. But on the other hand, if she was in that tight spot, she probably would have stayed out of it entirely.
“You okay, Kenzie?” Nathan asked when she set the bus pan on the shelf. The poor guy rarely got to leave the dishwashing station on meatloaf nights, unless Frank really needed him. Then the dishes would start backing up and Kenzie would have to try to run some through in between customers.
“I’m good. You know how it is on meatloaf nights.”
When he just nodded and returned to his task, Kenzie popped into the tiny bathroom by the break table she rarely used to splash some cold water on her face.
She didn’t want to argue with Hannah. Being born and raised here, she had a lot of friends. And she had Rhylee, who would always be her closest friend. But having a friend she’d made as an adult—not somebody she’d grown up with—meant a lot to her.
She’d just dried her face and was bracing herself to go back out front when Hannah pushed through the door and walked straight to her.
“I only have a second because we can’t both be back here, but I’m so sorry, Kenzie.”
“I know you’re stuck in the middle. It’s okay.”
Hannah shook her head. “Being stuck in the middle means I should just stay out of it entirely. Please let me be sorry I made it harder for you.”
She took a deep breath before letting it out slowly and opening her arms. “I accept your apology.”
The hug felt good, but Kenzie was grateful when Frank yelled Hannah’s name because being hugged also made her want to collapse into her friend’s arms, sobbing out all of her heartbreak.
There was no time for that.
Once Hannah’s tables were finished eating, she gave Kenzie another quick hug and left. And when she finally got to flip the sign to Closed and turn off the exterior lights, she breathed a sigh of relief. Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, started setting in, and she just wanted her bed.
When she got home, she wasn’t sure she had the energy for a shower, but she forced herself up the stairs.
Because she usually beat Frank home by twenty to thirty minutes, that’s when she showered.
Her dad would shower in the morning. That’s what worked for their schedule and for the old hot water heater.
It didn’t work as well for her hair, which was usually still damp when she went to bed, but ponytails hid a lot of hair sins.
Once she was clean and wearing her most comfortable pajamas, not that they would help her sleep, Kenzie went downstairs to decompress for a few minutes and set up the coffee maker to auto brew in the morning.
She was surprised to find Frank sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in front of him. Usually he collapsed into his beat-up recliner with a weary sigh and watched a little TV before going to bed.
She reached into the cabinet for the coffee grounds and filters. “You okay, Dad?”
“Yeah.” He clearly had something on his mind, though, so she waited silently for the rest. “What was going on between you and Hannah today?”
“Nothing. Just a disagreement, but they happen. We’re good.”
“Was it about that writer?” When she gave him a look, he shrugged. “Fine. Was it about Danny?”
It was tempting to lie, but she didn’t have the energy to make up a plausible story. After pouring the water into the brewer, she hit the button so it would auto brew and poured herself a glass of water. “More or less.”
When she sat across the table, he gave her a sad, weary look that tugged at her heart. “Am I in the way, Kenzie?”
“What? Dad.” Yes, whispered a little voice in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. “Of course not. Where is this even coming from?”
“I don’t know. When the guys and I were fishing, you being down south with Danny came up, and they made a big deal about how you finally got to go have some fun for once. They’re always on me to date and I would—I mean, your mom’s been gone a long time—but I haven’t met the right woman yet.”
“I’d love for you to find somebody. Mom would want that for you.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, one of the guys made a joke about how they had to kidnap me for a fishing trip and force the restaurant closed in order for you to go on a date, and how if I got a life, maybe you could have one. It’s just…been in my head, I guess.”
Kenzie didn’t speak for a moment because maybe none of the advice was wrong, per se, but it didn’t mean they could change anything.
The chances of Frank falling in love and wanting to quit cooking and move away were pretty slim, and there was no sense in both of them dwelling on it.
“I’m not sure if Mom ever told me not to take life advice from men sitting out in the hot sun drinking beer, but I’m pretty sure she’d say something like that. ”
He gave her a half-hearted chuckle. “You should have time to go out and have fun.”
“So should you, but we have a restaurant to run.” She took a sip of her water, wishing this conversation could wait until she wasn’t already on the ragged edge, emotionally. “I’m fine. I promise.”
He nodded slowly, and then lowered his gaze. “I’ve been digging around in the numbers, and I think we can close on Tuesdays. Maybe Wednesday, too. We can look at that together.”
“Dad, if this is about Danny, don’t. That’s over, and you and I aren’t rearranging our lives because of him.”