Page 85 of Promise Me


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Kendall

The smell of homemade waffles lures me into the kitchen. I pad into the room to find Mom at the stove and Dad at the square wood table reading the newspaper. “Good morning.”

“There she is.” Dad puts down the paper and stands. “Get over here and give your father a hug, Kenny.”

“Hi, Dad.” I walk into his arms, his familiar scent always comforting.

“How was your visit with Mason?” Mom asks over Dad’s shoulder.

“Incredibly special…and incredibly difficult.”

Dad gives me an extra hug, then releases me and returns to his chair. “Important things often are.”

“Do you need any help?” I ask my mom, not wanting to go into any further details. This morning I have something else on my mind.

“Nope. This next one is for you. Have a seat.” I sit in my usual spot across from my dad and eye the maple syrup, berries, and powdered sugar sitting in the center of the table. My dad’s plate is well used already.

“How’s California?” he asks.

I pop a raspberry into my mouth. “Great.” Not counting yesterday morning, which I’ve decided to strike from my testimony.

(Yes, I just sounded like an attorney. Being in the same room as my dad does that to me.)

“Your sisters?”

Dad narrows his focus directly at me. He thinks he can read me like I’m on the witness stand, and oftentimes he can, but I’ve had practice over the years, and if there’s something I don’t want him to see, I’m good at hiding it. My sisters are a topic I’m willing to share openly, though. The hope in his eyes makes it hard to hold anything back where they’re concerned. He loves them.

“Dixie is planning to stay in L.A. She’s bartending and pursuing her music career. She played one night at an open mic and won. She was fantastic. She’s still wild and bold and doesn’t give a crap about what anyone thinks of her.

“Amber is staying in L.A., too. She’s starting a program to get her masters in speech therapy in the fall. I think she’ll probably stay with Aunt Sally and Uncle Jack for a while because…” She’s pregnant. It hits me then that my dad is going to be a grandfather. That is a really big deal but not something for me to tell.

Dad raises his eyebrows at my trailing off.

“I don’t think she’s on the best terms with her mom and stepdad, and you know Aunt Sally, she loves having her family with her.” Did that sound plausible? What one has to do with the other, I don’t know, but he seems to have bought it.

“They’re being nice to you?”

Mom puts a waffle down on my plate. I inhale the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. “Nicer,” I say, emphasis on the er.

Dad doesn’t look satisfied, so I add, “We’re adults and behaving like it for the most part. You don’t need to worry about me.” I pile all the extras onto my waffle.

“I’ll always worry about you,” he says.

I shrug as I stuff a bite of food into my mouth. The explosion of flavors is soooo good.

“And them,” he adds before he glances away for a moment, lost in thought. It doesn’t take a genius to see he misses his two oldest daughters.

Maybe before summer is over, I can convince my sisters to give their father a chance at a better relationship.

“I spoke to Lou Adler about you this week.” Dad takes a sip of his coffee, his attention back on me and a proud tone in his voice.

The name doesn’t sound familiar. “Should I know who that is?”

“Lou is the deputy dean at the University of Chicago, a scholar, and sure to be your favorite professor. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“Louella and your dad go way back.” Mom lets half a waffle slide off her spatula and onto Dad’s plate. She retrieves the other half for herself and sits down to eat.

“He goes way back with everyone,” I say. If you don’t know Michael Hewitt then you aren’t from around here. Plus, his judiciary reputation crosses state lines.

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