But if we act on anything we’re feeling, he’s eventually going to have to choose. And he won’t choose me. I wouldn’t let him, and I’d think so much less of him if he didn’t choose Diem.
And what’s to come of me when that happens? I’ll not only lose my chance with Diem, but I’ll lose Ledger too.
I’ve already lost you for good. That’s hard enough.
How many losses can one person take before they just throw in the fucking towel, Scotty? Because it sure is starting to feel like I’m all out of wins, here.
Love,
Kenna
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LEDGER
Diem’s arms are tight around my neck as I give her a piggyback ride across the parking lot toward Grace’s car. The T-ball game just ended, and Diem is making me carry her because she said her legs were soaking sore.
“I want to go to work with you,” she says.
“You can’t. Kids aren’t allowed in bars.”
“I go to your bar with you sometimes.”
“Yeah, when we’re closed,” I clarify. “That doesn’t count. We’ll be open tonight, and it’s busy and I won’t be able to keep an eye on you.” Not to mention, her mother who she doesn’t even know exists will be there. “You can come work for me when you turn eighteen.”
“That’s a long, long, long time away; you’ll be dead.”
“Hey, now,” Grace says defensively. “I’m a lot older than Ledger, and I don’t plan on being dead when you’re eighteen.”
I get Diem secured into her car seat. “How old will I be when everybody dies?” she asks.
“Nobody knows when anyone will die,” I tell her. “But if we all live until we’re old, we’ll all be old together.”
“How old will I be when you’re two hundred?”
“Dead old,” I say.
Her eyes grow wide, and I immediately shake my head. “We’ll all be dead. No one lives to be two hundred.”
“My teacher is two hundred.”
“Mrs. Bradshaw is younger than me,” Grace pipes up from the front seat. “Stop telling lies.”
Diem leans forward and whispers, “Mrs. Bradshaw really is two hundred.”
“I believe you.” I kiss her on top of the head. “Good job today. Love you.”
“I love you, too; I want to go to work with . . .” I close Diem’s door before she finishes her sentence. I don’t normally rush them off this way, but as we were walking through the parking lot, I received a text from Kenna.
All it said was, Please come get me.
It’s not quite four yet. She said she didn’t need a ride when I asked her yesterday, so my concern was immediately heightened when I got the text.
I’m already to my truck when Grace and Diem drive away. Patrick couldn’t make the game today because he’s working on the jungle gym. I was planning on going home for a couple of hours to see the progress and help before I went to the bar, but now I’m on my way to the grocery store to check on Kenna.
I’ll text Patrick when I get there to let him know I’m not stopping by. We’re almost finished with the jungle gym. Diem’s birthday is coming up, which means today was supposed to be the big day. Leah’s and my wedding. We planned on going to Hawaii just a week after the wedding, and I remember being stressed that we wouldn’t be back for Diem’s birthday party.
That was another point of contention between Leah and me. She didn’t like that Diem’s fifth birthday was almost as big a deal to me as our honeymoon.
I’m sure Patrick and Grace would have been willing to move the birthday party, but Leah acted like Diem’s fifth birthday was a major conflict with our honeymoon before she even inquired about them moving the party, and that ended up becoming one of the first of many red flags.
I gave Leah the trip to Hawaii after our breakup. I had already paid for it, but I’m not sure if she’s still going. Hopefully she is, but it’s been three months since we’ve even spoken. I feel like I have no clue what’s going on in her life now. Not that I want to know. It’s strange, being involved in every facet of another human being, and then suddenly not knowing anything.
It’s also strange thinking you know someone but then later realizing maybe you didn’t know them at all. I feel that with Leah, and I’m starting to feel that about Kenna, but in the opposite way. With Kenna, I feel like I judged her too poorly in the beginning. With Leah, I feel like I judged her too favorably.
I probably should have texted Kenna to let her know I was on my way, because I spot her walking alone on the side of the road about a quarter of a mile away from the store. Her head is down, and she’s got both hands gripping the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder. I pull over on the opposite side of the road, but she doesn’t even notice my truck, so I tap on the horn. It gets her attention. She looks both ways and then crosses the road and climbs into my truck.