Dead Silence (Stillwater Trilogy #1)(38)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Maybe she was tired and wanted to have a nap.”

“She wasn’t tired.”

Kennedy switched the phone to his other ear. “How do you know?”

“Because I told her you were my dad.”

He sat up straighter. “She hadn’t figured that out?”

Silence.

“Teddy?”

“I couldn’t tell her, Dad. She wants Vicki Nibley to be the next mayor.”

“So why’d you tell her today?”

“I wanted to wait till you could ask her to go camping. But Mrs. Reese came to buy some peaches and said Grandma wouldn’t like me being there.”

It was easy for Kennedy to picture the old battle-ax doing that. Grace had been in her English class, too. She’d sat in the back corner, where Joe’s girlfriend threw spit-wads at her and Mrs. Reese wondered aloud why Clay’s little sister couldn’t keep up with the rest of the class. “I’m sure that went over big.”

Teddy sniffed. “I don’t think she likes Mrs. Reese.”

“Probably not.” Kennedy could certainly understand. Mrs. Reese was a busybody who took too many liberties in dispensing advice. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”

There was a momentary lull in the conversation, but when Teddy spoke again, Kennedy heard a surge of hope in his voice. “Dad?”

“What?”

“Do you think you could go over to Grace’s and show her that you’re a nice guy?” he asked plaintively.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah! She said you’ve never been friends. But you could say you’re sorry.”

“Teddy—”

“You made me say I’m sorry to Parker McNally, even though he hit me first.”

“You bloodied his nose.”

“He started it—but you said sometimes being big enough to say you’re sorry is more important than who started it.”

“This is different.”

“How? You want to be friends with Grace, don’t you?”

Kennedy had walked right into that one. “Of course I do. It’s just…I don’t know, bud.”

“Come on, Dad. We were going to open the stand every day next week. And camping won’t be any fun without her.”

Kennedy rested his head in one hand. “Teddy—”

“Please, Dad? She’s my best friend.”

Kennedy’s heart felt as if it had jumped into his throat. He couldn’t speak. Teddy used to say his mother was his best friend.

“Daddy? Are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Will you do it? For me? Please?”

Kennedy took a deep breath, then let the air seep slowly between his lips. “Sure,” he said at last. “I’ll go over there.”

“Be really nice, okay? And when you ask her to go camping, tell her we’re going to make s’mores. She’ll like that.”

Kennedy wasn’t convinced Grace would even let him speak to her. “My going over there might not make any difference.”

“It will,” his son said, happy again, and disconnected.

Kennedy hung up the phone. He was sorry about what’d happened in high school. Terribly sorry. He felt he should apologize to Grace. But he was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to hear it.

9

When she came to the door, Grace was wearing a white cotton blouse that contrasted nicely with her olive skin, a long red, orange and pink skirt with a bracelet around one narrow ankle and no shoes. Kennedy caught a glimpse of the shiny pink polish that covered her toenails, thought how delicate and feminine her feet looked, and wanted to continue to stare at the ground rather than face the scratches on her cheek from last night and the wary expression in her eyes. But he owed her an apology and, although it had taken Teddy to motivate him to deliver it, he was glad to finally be here.

“Hi.” He’d already loosened his tie. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, he stepped back so she wouldn’t feel threatened by him in any way.

She hovered by the door as if she might need to lock him out at a moment’s notice, so he doubted his attempt to convince her that she was safe had much effect.

“Hello,” she said, her voice far more uncertain than welcoming.

Kennedy attempted a charming grin and jerked his head toward the stand she’d erected in the front yard. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Got any more peaches?”

Her eyes focused briefly on the stand. “You’re here to buy peaches?” she asked skeptically.

“Not really,” he admitted.

She raked one hand through the layers of her hair, which fell loose around her shoulders. “You’ve come about last night.”

The tone of her voice seemed to add “at last.” But he still didn’t know what to think about the Bible he’d found. Or what to do with it. “No.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“It’s Teddy. He called me a few minutes ago.”

Her chest lifted as though she’d just drawn a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I would never purposely take my feelings about you and your friends out on a child.”

He winced. She hated him enough that not doing so required conscious effort?

Of course she did. But realizing it didn’t make an apology any easier.

“I wouldn’t have let him in if I’d known,” she added, clearly trying to reassure him that it was an innocent mistake. “Anyway, he’ll get over the disappointment. He and I barely know each other. In the future, just…just tell him whatever you think—that I’m not a good influence. And maybe for a week or two, I’ll hold off reopening Evonne’s stand. That way I won’t be so visible to him.”

Stepping closer, he put a hand on the door. To his surprise, she didn’t try to close it.

“Grace, I’m sorry.”

She inched backward in an obvious attempt to put more space between them. “For what? Teddy was no trouble.”

“I’m not talking about Teddy. He had my permission to come over here. I figured he would’ve told you by now that he’s my son. Or someone else would. Anyway, I’m sorry for what I did—and didn’t do—in high school.”

“I don’t want to talk about high school,” she said. “What happened then, happened. You can celebrate the letters you received in football and basketball and baseball. You can line up your prom pictures and your report cards and smile proudly. But I…I was stupid and desperate and…” She let her words dwindle away. “I just want to forget those years.”