Reminders of Him

The hesitant look on Ledger’s face conveys his regret. It looks like he’s about to say never mind, so I hurry up and spit out a thank you before he can backtrack. “I get off work at four o’clock Friday and Saturday. I can be there by four thirty.”

He nods, and then says, “Come in through the back door. And if anyone asks, tell them your name is Nicole. That’s what I’ll tell the other employees.”

“Okay.”

He shakes his head like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life, and then he heads to the front door. He says, “Good night,” but his voice is clipped when he says it. Then he closes the door behind him.

Ivy is rubbing against my ankles, so I bend down and pick her up. I bring her up to my chest and cuddle her.

Ledger might have just offered me a job to get me out of town, but I sit down on my couch with a smile, because I got to see my daughter’s face today. No matter how depressing the rest of the day was, I finally got a piece of something I’ve been praying five years for.

I grab my notebook and write the most important letter I’ve ever written to Scotty.

Dear Scotty,

She looks like both of us, but she laughs like you.

She’s perfect in every way.

I’m so sorry you never got to meet her.

Love,

Kenna

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LEDGER

Kenna is supposed to show up any minute. Roman has been off since the night I hired her, so I haven’t had a chance to warn him. But I’ve been debating on changing my mind about hiring her since the second I made up my mind.

Roman just arrived, and Kenna said she’d be here around four thirty, so now is probably a good time to bring it up to him so he’s not blindsided.

I’m slicing up limes and oranges to make sure we have enough garnishes for the night. Roman hasn’t even made it behind the bar yet when I say, “I fucked up.” I meant to say, “I hired Kenna,” but I feel like they both have the same meaning.

Roman eyes me suspiciously.

I can’t have this conversation while I’m slicing fruit, so I put the knife down before I hack off a finger. “I hired Kenna. Part time, but no one can know who she is. Call her Nicole in front of the other employees.” I pick up the knife again because I’d rather look at the limes than at the expression Roman is giving me right now.

“Um. Wow. Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

I hear his keys and his phone as he drops them on the bar and then scoots out a stool. “Good thing we both work until midnight. Start talking.”

I walk to the edge of the bar and glance back into the kitchen to make sure we’re still alone. No one else has arrived yet, so I give him a quick rundown of what happened in the grocery store parking lot, and how I showed her videos of Diem and then took her for burgers and somehow ended up feeling sorry for her and offered her a job to help her get out of town.

I get the whole story out, and the whole time, he’s completely silent.

“I asked her to stay in the back, away from the customers,” I say. “I can’t risk Grace or Patrick finding out she works here. I’m not worried about them showing up; they never come here. But I’d still like her to stay in the back. She can do the dishes and help Aaron.”

Roman laughs. “So, you essentially hired a barback who can back but not bar?”

“There’s plenty to do back there to keep her busy.”

I hear Roman swipe his phone and his keys off the bar. Right before he disappears through the double doors to the kitchen, he says, “I don’t want to hear another word about the fucking cupcakes ever again.”

He’s gone before I can point out that his being obsessed with the married baker down the street is a little different than my giving Kenna a job to get her out of town faster.

The doors to the back swing open a couple of minutes later, and Roman says, “Your new hire just arrived.”

When I make it to the kitchen, Kenna is standing by the alley door holding her tote, gripping her wrist with the opposite hand. She looks nervous, but different. She’s got lip gloss on or something. I don’t know, but her mouth is all I can seem to focus on, so I clear my throat and look away from her and casually say, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she says.

I point to a closet where the employees keep their stuff while on shift. “You can put your bag in there.”

I grab her an apron and keep it as professional as I can. “I’ll give you a quick tour.” She follows me quietly as I show her around the kitchen. I explain the process of how to stack the dishes once she washes them. I give her a brief tour of our stock room. I show her where my office is. I take her out to the alley to show her which dumpster is ours.