23. Kendra
Kendra
Sometimes you make a piece of art so fucking perfect you just want to pinch yourself. This makes me happy. When the thing you planned in your mind comes together, and it not only turns out but turns out better than you expected.
When Lainey and Rem first got engaged, Rem came to me with a grand gesture in mind to surprise his love with—and of course he needed my help.
Since the fire stole every possession they had, they wanted to replace things in the new house they were building with meaningful items. So as a wedding gift to Lainey, he asked me to make them custom plates and bowls for the kitchen.
I was thrilled that he asked me and was eager to make something they would cherish for years to come.
My pottery is so personal, and each piece is unique, even if it’s part of a set.
Rem asked me to make the dinnerware pale lavender, Lainey’s favorite color, and to incorporate flowers.
The best part was he was giving me creative freedom on the flowers, saying he trusted me to “make them what they needed to be.” That right there was one artist understanding another.
I decided on a delicate, hand-painted wildflower pattern along the edges.
Being overly ambitious, I not only made them large and small plates, but I also made cereal-sized bowls, pasta bowls, a big serving bowl, and some new thumb mugs that I have been experimenting with to add to my sales collection for Sutton’s shop.
The wedding is coming up fast, and I am feeling the pressure to get this done, stay on top of my other mugs for the display I have at Brooks and Books, and keep up at the salon.
Totally shutting down all my sales I used to run on Etsy and just selling exclusively with Sutton has made my life slightly less stressful.
I certainly do not miss dealing with the packaging and shipping.
It’s been so hectic that I haven’t seen much of Bennett, but he’s coming over for dinner tonight, and I’m actually looking forward to it.
The break from work alone and having some company will be nice.
“Knock knock.” A deep, familiar, and unexpected voice comes from the open side door. I look up to find Eli, with Wren in his arms, smiling at me.
“Hey, come on in.” I wipe the paint from my hands, the wildflowers on the last plate finally done.
“What are you working on?” he asks, stepping closer to look at my work.
“It’s top secret. So you have to swear not to say anything. You too.” I reach out and tickle Wren’s belly, unable to help myself.
“I swear we won’t tell anyone.”
“It’s Rem’s wedding gift to Lainey. He is having me make dinner plates and cereal bowls for their new house.” I wave my hand over the field of painted plates.
“This looks like a lot more than just a few plates and bowls, Kendra.” Eli’s eyes go wide taking in the other things in the collection waiting their turn to be painted, glazed, and fired.
“I know, I might have gotten a bit excited, but she’s my best friend.
And after everything they’ve gone through .
. . I wanted to do something extra, something special.
” As I explain, I undo my hair elastic, gather my wild mess of blonde, and retie it into a messy bun on top of my head.
Eli’s hot gaze tracks every movement I make.
I walk over to my sink, trying to ignore the fact that it feels hotter in here since he walked in. Washing my brushes methodically, I do my best to ignore him.
“I think that’s great. They will both really appreciate all the work you are putting into this. Lainey needs to rebuild her Kendra collection.” I spin back around to see Eli’s sad smile taking in my inventory.
“How do you know about that?”
“She bragged about her mugs all the time. When she moved into Rem’s house, one of the first things we did was donate of all his old, generic, boring ones so she could fill the cupboard with all her mugs—which were exclusively your pieces.
They lost a lot in that fire, but I think that the sentimental things hurt the most.” He shifts Wren up to his shoulder and rubs her back.
She lays her head comfortably on him, letting out a sigh.
Eli and I just stare at each other, locked in some kind of time warp. There is so much I could say, ask . . . but if we cracked open that box, there would never be a way to reseal it. I also don’t think my heart could handle the truth, the final answers, even after all these years.
And, I remind myself—I hate him.
Our bubble suddenly pops when a sharp voice says, “There you are! I’ve been knocking and ringing the front doorbell.
” Bennett barges into the open space through the side door, and it feels all wrong.
I immediately want to ask him to get out, but that’s silly.
He’s here for me, to see me, spend time with me after weeks of our schedules misaligning.
“Hi,” I say with a weak smile.
“I thought you were making dinner for me?” he asks, and I can see Eli’s back stiffen.
“Yes, and I can’t wait.” I try to smooth over my annoyance. “I just got so caught up painting that I lost track of time out here. Sorry.” I grit my teeth as I force out the apology he doesn’t deserve.
“Who are you?” Bennett asks, looking at Eli.
“Oh, sorry. This is my neighbor, Eli Hargrove and his daughter, Wren,” I say, “and this is Bennett Cross,” I say to Eli, finishing the introduction.
“Dr. Cross,” Bennett says as he sticks out his hand to shake Eli’s. I can see that sexy muscle in Eli’s jaw flicker with irritation as he tries to hold his tongue. He towers over Bennett in every way. Even with a little baby in his arms, Eli is a million times more intimidating.
“Have a good night, Kendra. Benny,” Eli says flatly before he spins and takes Wren back across to his own house.
“What a dick,” Bennett says, as he eyes one of the flower plates. “What’s all this?”
“Let me finish cleaning up so I can get dinner started and I will tell you all about it,” I say, biting back more frustration. I’d like to lock myself in this garage, alone . . . for the rest of the night.
“Why do you keep looking over there?” Bennett asks, his tone snappy and harsh.
“Oh, umm. I’m just worried about Wren, I could hear her crying, and it’s been a long time. Usually it’s easier to settle her down.” I pull my attention back to the pasta primavera in front of me and away from the breeze coming from the open window that carried the distracting cry from next door.
Taking a sip of wine, Bennett says, “It’s not your kid, you shouldn’t worry about it, especially when we’re on a date.”
“I know, but it’s hard not to. She’s so sweet,” I reply with a sad smile.
“So . . . do you go over there a lot? Help him? Play house?” Bennett asks accusingly.
“It’s not like that at all. I can barely stand Eli, but he just had Wren dropped into his life out of the blue. He had no idea the mother was even pregnant. Now he’s a full-time single father. So our group of friends is trying to help when we can,” I explain.
“I think you can cross yourself off that list, darlin’. You have other things to worry about than helping cover babysitting duties for his irresponsible mistake.” He finishes off his glass of wine and reaches for the bottle between us to refill it.
If the wedding was not next weekend, and I had not already asked Bennett to be my date, I would un-invite him. But I definitely don’t want to show up alone, and I don’t have time to find a new date. So I will suck it up, and once the wedding is over I will never have to see this asshole again.