Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“That’s how it is now, but nothing says that’s how it has to be forever.
” He was talking faster now, leaning toward his grandmother.
“It’s been her and her dad for ten years, and here I come asking her to make me a priority.
But at some point, she’ll want more time off, and then the three of us can figure it out together.
I don’t think she’d let me pay a server, but maybe we could have a savings jar, and when we have enough, we pay somebody to take her place for a few days. ”
“And the kids whose mother goes to work before they wake up and doesn’t get home until after they’re in bed? Maybe you should trust your gut on this one, Daniel.”
“It wouldn’t be easy. But the restaurant closes at two three days a week, so we’d have family time. And I could bring them to have lunch with her there. Even if she didn’t find a way to cut back her hours, we’d find a way to be a happy family.”
She sighed, holding up her hands. “It sounds like maybe it could work out, after all, if you actually tell her what you’re feeling.”
Weeks’ worth of tension eased in his body, and he collapsed against the back of the chair as the realization really took hold in his mind.
It was not impossible. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it.
A sly quirk of his grandmother’s lips caught his attention, and he narrowed his eyes. “Gram. You are a devious woman.”
She beamed. “Thank you. At least you got the message. Sean, I actually had to take the wooden spoon to.”
He chuckled, imagining Gram giving her nephew a good whack with the spoon. Kowalskis could definitely be hardheaded, and it was probably a good thing because they were love taps, but it was still a wooden spoon.
The urge to run out to his truck and start driving north was overwhelming, but he stayed in his chair.
He’d finish his lemonade and the cookies with his grandmother, and then he’d spend the rest of the day helping his grandfather with those piles.
He’d probably still be there when Joey showed up after his workday ended so they could fill Leo’s truck for a dump run. Gram would want to feed them.
Tomorrow, though. Tomorrow he was going to see Kenzie and do whatever he had to do to make her see they were not impossible.
* * *
Kenzie was sitting in her favorite chair on the front porch with a coffee on the table next to her and a book in her lap at ten o’clock in the morning. It still felt decadent to her, especially after sleeping in until seven.
She was better at sleeping in than her dad was.
Since they’d started closing on Tuesdays, he’d gotten in the habit of meeting one of his buddies for some early fishing.
The first couple of Tuesdays, Kenzie had felt compelled to fill the days with stuff she felt as if she should be doing, like weeding out her closet and vacuuming the drapes.
Eventually she’d accepted it was okay for Tuesdays to be lazy days. She worked hard, and soon enough it would be too cold in the mornings for front porch sitting, so she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
The book in her lap today was closed. The story hadn’t been good enough to distract her from memories of sitting with Danny on his back porch, and she’d given up.
It was getting easier each week. The first Tuesday morning she’d sat out here, the yearning to be with Danny had been so strong, she’d cried for an hour before making herself get up and clean something.
She didn’t give up, though, and made herself sit there the next Tuesday. After only crying a little bit, she’d dried her tears and opened her book. She’d loved this front porch before she met Danny and his back porch, and she was going to love it again.
A vehicle pulled into the driveway, and she looked up with a smile on her face, expecting it to be her dad, home with more fish stories.
It wasn’t the beat-up old Ford Frank’s buddy drove, though, and she was confused. They rarely got lost tourists turning around in their driveway, and there was no other reason for somebody to pull in.
Then it clicked, and as soon as her brain registered the truck as Danny’s, tears filled her eyes and her pulse quickened. She blinked, swiping at her eyes with a trembling hand while he got out so he wouldn’t see the tears.
She took slow, even breaths to calm herself as she watched him walk toward her. He really needed a haircut. And some sleep. When their eyes met, she could see the hint of shadows under his, matching her own.
“Hello, friend,” she said when he stepped onto the porch.
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hi, Kenzie. Can I sit?”
She waved her hand toward the other chair. “Sure. Are you up to help out at the campground, or are you working on another book?”
“I haven’t been to the campground yet. I went straight to the restaurant, but the sign said you’re closed Tuesdays now. I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. There’s so much more four-wheeler and snowmobile traffic these days, we talked about it and decided we could afford to take a day off each week.”
“That’s great.” He rubbed his hands together, looking out over the yard before finally turning to her. “I hope you don’t mind that I came here. I just… I’m only up here to see you.”
It was the first time in Kenzie’s life that she’d ever had such potent mixed feelings.
Part of her wanted to scream at him to get off her porch and off of her property—to get back in his truck and drive back the way he came because she’d finally stopped crying herself to sleep at night.
But another part of her wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold on to him so tightly, he could never get away from her again.
“Why?” That was the only thing she could say without opening the door to a lot of emotions she didn’t want to let herself feel again.
“Because you and I are not impossible.”
Even though her heart skipped, she didn’t respond to that. She wasn’t sure what she could even say. Danny had felt they weren’t impossible the entire time. All she had to do was choose him over her dad and the restaurant and everything would be great.
“If you want me to go, I will,” he said when she remained silent. “But I’d like to try to explain.”
“I don’t want you to go,” she said in a soft voice, unable to lie to him. “But I don’t know if there’s any point in explaining because nothing has changed. I mean, sure, I have Tuesdays off now, but one extra morning a week doesn’t make that much of a difference.”
“I process a lot of things internally, and I don’t usually share my feelings until I’ve sorted everything out in my head.” He stopped, blowing out a breath. “And I know that doesn’t make sense because you and I talking things out is kind of our vibe.”
“Talking about your fictional people’s lives and talking about your own emotions are two different things,” she pointed out. “But what kind of conversations were you having with yourself instead of me?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I love my house.”
“I love your house, too, so I understand that.”
“And I got hung up on giving up my house to move up here, and what if it didn’t work because I’d never get to see you, and I’d have to go to all the family birthdays and baby showers and cookouts alone, and then I’m up here in a place I never wanted to live and the resentment breaks us up and then I don’t have you and somebody else is already living in my house? ”
Her eyes widened as he poured it all out without even taking a breath. “That’s a lot.”
“I know.”
“Did you try using a whiteboard?” she asked, and he barked out a surprised laugh that made her smile.
“I think while I was trying to work it all out, I was verbalizing the parts that involved you, but not my own parts, so it looked like I just wanted you to do all the compromising. I’m sorry.” He held her gaze, his eyes serious. “I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you. But everything you said is still valid. What is it you think has changed?”
“What changed is that I spent a month and a half alone in my house wishing I was here with you, and I’ve learned that I would rather sleep beside you every night and have three afternoons a week with you for the rest of my life than not have you at all.”
“Dammit, Danny,” she said as the tears refused to be held back any longer and spilled over her cheeks.
She swiped at them, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference.
“That doesn’t make everything else less true, you know.
Your family’s super close, and I won’t be able to make every party and shower and cookout.
Maybe some of them because a summer high schooler and Nathan could probably get through a dinner shift without me once in a while, but—”
“No buts,” he said, holding up his hand.
“You can hopefully make some of them. That’s enough.
And you’re closed on the big holidays. Frank would fit right in with my family, and maybe we could switch off.
We—including your dad, of course—do a holiday with my family, and then we can do one with your aunt and uncle and your cousins.
It doesn’t have to be everything. We can blend our lives together in a way that works for us. I know we can.”
She wanted desperately to believe him. “What about your house? Like you said, you really love your house.”
“It’s a perfect house,” he said quietly, his blue eyes steady on her face. “But it doesn’t feel like home to me anymore because it doesn’t have you in it.”
Kenzie gave up on trying to stop the tears. “You certainly have a way with words.”
He chuckled. “And I did that without my editor, too.”
“I love your house, too, though.” She sniffed, shaking her head. “I can’t leave my dad and the restaurant.”
“I’m not asking you to. I might not have to sell it.
My plan, if you think it’s a good plan, is to stay with Rob and Hannah for the winter.
You and I can spend time together. Maybe take up snowshoeing.
Do some snowmobiling.” He paused, giving her that irresistible grin.
“Maybe have some sleepovers. And in the spring, we can find a little place to rent together. If you really want to stay with your dad, though, I can probably be okay with that.”
“I stay with my dad because it wouldn’t make sense for me to rent an apartment and both of us pay separate expenses.”
“I can rent my house out, and housing’s more expensive where I live, so it would make enough to rent a house up here with some left over.
Or maybe we buy a house if the right property comes up.
” He waved his hand as if he was going too deep into the weeds.
“The point is, you said when you were forty-five or maybe fifty-five, you’d have to figure out what to do with the rest of your life.
Maybe it’s growing old with me on that back porch, watching the river. ”
The hope swelled up inside of her so strongly, she couldn’t catch her breath. “Danny.”
“I love you, Kenzie. I don’t know the answer to every question yet, but I know the answer to the most important question—can I be happy without you. And it’s no, I can’t. I love you, and I know we can figure it out together.”
Kenzie stood, the book she’d forgotten about falling to the floor, and reached for him. He was there in the space of a heartbeat, pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in as his shirt absorbed her tears.
She let him hold her for a long time, until the tears and trembling had subsided. Then she tipped her head back so she could see his face. “I love you, too. I want to come home to you every night. And someday, I want to grow old with you on that back porch.”
His eyes sparkled with moisture as he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her until her body was molded to his and everything around them faded away. Then he ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the lingering wetness.
“No matter how many more books I write, our story will always be my favorite.”
She laughed and took his hand, pulling him toward the door. It felt like a good time to give him a tour of her bedroom. “Did I mention you’ll get a family discount on popcorn chicken?”
“Damn, woman,” he said, slapping her butt with his free hand. “Just when I thought it wasn’t possible to love you any more than I do.”