“Yes,” she said and meant it with great sincerity.
“My father is . . .”
“Abusive,” Kim said, her jaw set.
“He is to anyone who is weaker than he is, and my mother is a delicate woman.”
“Jecca adores her.”
“Mom mentioned her. She’s the young woman who lived in the apartment next door.”
“And she’s the bride. I guess you know that Jecca and your mother became great friends. They worked out together, sewed together. There was a point when I was becoming downright jealous.”
Travis was looking at Kim in shock. He talked to his mother once a week—even if he was out of the country—but he’d heard nothing of this. He’d seen the article that said she’d made clothes for some woman, but he’d thought that meant his mother stayed in her rooms and sewed.
“Jecca is Joe Layton’s daughter,” Kim said when Travis was silent.
“Joe Layton?”
“I assume that’s the man she wants to marry, isn’t it? Tonight the two of them were dancing together as though they were about to tear each other’s clothes off. Jecca said Lucy was very flexible, but I had no idea she could do a back bend like that. I hope that when I’m her age I can—” She broke off at Travis’s look. “Oh. Right. She’s your mother. I feel pretty certain that the man she wants to marry is Joe Layton.”
“What’s he like? What does he do?”
“He owns a hardware store in New Jersey, one that’s been in his family for generations. But he’s turning it over to his son and opening a store here in Edilean.”
“Can the small population of this town support a hardware store?”
“We are near some large cities,” Kim said coolly.
“I didn’t mean to insult Edilean. I was thinking in terms of money. My mother stands to make a profit by the divorce.”
“I’ve known Jecca for many years,” Kim said tersely, “and I can assure you that her father is not after your mother’s money.” She really and truly did not like what he was insinuating. She stood up. “I think I’ll go back to the reception now.”
Travis didn’t say a word. Just as he’d known he would, he’d blown it with Kim. But then, he always messed up when it came to good girls. He didn’t call when he was supposed to, forgot birthdays, didn’t send a gift that she’d expected. Whatever he did seemed to be wrong—which is why he tended toward women like Leslie. Give her something shiny and she was happy.
Kim got to the end of the path before a strong sense of déjà vu hit her. She was eight years old again, she’d just let her temper override her and thrown a clod of dirt at a boy. She then ran away and hid, waiting for him to come after her. But that boy hadn’t come. She’d had to go after him. In the weeks that followed she’d found out that the boy didn’t know how to do much of anything. Couldn’t skip rocks, couldn’t ride a bike. He knew lots about science but couldn’t put a blade of grass between his thumbs and make a whistle. He didn’t know anything about the really important stuff in life.
She turned back to Travis. Just as he’d done so long ago, he was sitting there, not moving. She didn’t know what was in his head now—probably something he’d learned in a book—but it was obvious that he was as socially awkward now as he was then.
Slowly, she walked back to the bench and sat down beside him, her eyes straight ahead. “Sorry,” she said. “My temper sometimes gets the better of me.”
“Then you haven’t changed.”
“And you just sat there, so neither have you.”
“Maybe as children we’re the purest forms of ourselves.”
“In our case, I think so.” She took a breath. “Joe Layton isn’t after your mother’s money. As far as I know, no one knows she has any or will receive any. I don’t mean to reveal a confidence, but Jecca said that her dad knows little about Lucy, whether she has kids or not, anything. Whenever he asks about her personal life, Lucy starts kissing him and—I guess you don’t want to hear the rest of that.”
“I would prefer your descriptions to be less graphic.”
She smiled at the way he spoke. His extensive schooling was in every syllable. “I understand. I think you can rest easy that they are together for love, not money.”
When he said nothing, she put her hand on his arm—and Travis put his hand over hers. He had almost forgotten how caring she was. When they were kids she was appalled at the things he didn’t know. She seemed to have a checklist of what each and every kid in the world must know and she’d set about teaching him.
Right now there were a few things he’d like to teach her. She looked so good in that dress in the moonlight that it was difficult to keep his hands off her. But she was looking at him as though he were a stray dog that she needed to rescue. He had to work to keep desire out of his eyes, but she seemed to want to give him a bandage.
He knew he should let go of her hand, but her long fingers were—He lifted her hand. “Is this a scar?”