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“You sit. I’ll make you both a plate.” I won't comment on how just minutes ago, when I arrived, Maureen was still full from lunch.
“Oh, Kennedy, you better go make sure he doesn’t need any help.”
“No.” I stand and look at Kennedy. “I can do this without help.” I then turn to face Maureen. “What kind of man would I be if I let her help me when I’m capable on my own and she’s not feeling well? I can manage to pop the two dishes into the microwave.” I don’t wait for her to reply as my feet carry me back to the kitchen.
I can hear hushed voices, but I tune them out. I busy myself warming the two plates Mom sent with me. Once one is finished, I pop in the next and carry the first to Maureen. “Miss Maureen,” I say, charming her. At least, I hope that I am. “This one is for you. Would you like something to drink?”
“Declan, she’s fine.”
“Oh, dear, I’d love a glass of sweet tea. Kennedy just made a fresh pitcher. Pour a glass for yourself,” she says, digging into the dinner I place on the TV tray in front of her.
“Kens? Sweet tea?” I ask.
“I can get it.” She starts to stand, but I hold my hand up to stop her. “Let me do this for you.”
“Declan, she’s exaggerating. I’m fine.”
“Regardless, let me take care of you.” I bop her on the nose, but what I really want to do is kiss her. I won’t have my second taste of her to be with Maureen as a witness. She would never let us live it down, and the entire town of Willow River would know by morning.
By the time I deliver Kennedy her meal and pour three glasses of sweet tea, I realize I’ve been here for longer than anticipated. It’s not a problem, my family knows where I am, and I know that my daughter is in good hands. But it is a problem because my brothers are never going to let me hear the end of this. At least I can say that Maureen was chatty from being cooped up in the house from her broken leg.
I doubt they’ll buy it, but it’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Besides, it’s not a complete lie. She is a Chatty Cathy tonight, but I don’t mind. I get to see Kennedy, even if it is with her grandma telling me about her menstrual cycle. Women sure did get the short end of the stick as far as that goes. I shudder at the thought of dealing with what they have to endure on a monthly basis. I’m man enough to admit that men, as a species, couldn’t handle it. That’s why God shouldered the task to the woman.
“Why don’t you kids go grab some dessert or something?” Maureen suggests, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I have to get back.” I stand from my seat on the couch. I down the remainder of my tea and rinse my glass before placing it in the sink. “If you ladies need anything, just call me.”
“We’re fine, but thank you for dinner. Please tell your mom it was delicious,” Kennedy says politely. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Once we reach the door, I pull her into my arms. “You doing okay?”
“You mean other than being embarrassed? Yeah, I’m fine.”
I rest my palm against her cheek. “Call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be just fine. I have everything I need.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t, it’s me who takes care of that for you.”
“You’re… a lot to take on.”
“You’ll get used to it.” I press a kiss on her forehead. “Lock up behind me.”
“Yes, Dad,” she teases.
I chuckle under my breath as I cut back across the yard back to my parents’ place. Suddenly, I’m no longer grumpy, as Blakely claimed. I just needed a little Kennedy in my life, it seems.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Kennedy
“Oh, phooey,” Grandma says from her chair as soon as I enter the room. I just finished cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast.
I raise my eyebrow in question, and she grins. She holds my gaze, and I know she’s waiting for me to respond. “What is it?” I ask, afraid of what the answer will be.
She places her phone facedown on her lap. I raise my eyebrows in suspicion but wait for her to release whatever bomb she’s about to drop on me.
“I forgot that my car is due for an oil change. I just got my confirmation text.” She nods toward where her phone lies in her lap.
“Oh.” That’s not at all what I was expecting. “I can take care of that. Where does it need to go?”
“Kincaid’s Auto Repair.” She smirks. “You know where that’s at in town, right?”
“I’m sure I can figure it out,” I tell her. I’m proud of myself for keeping my voice steady when I’m quivering inside at the mere thought of getting to see Declan.
