Sorry for the delay! Last week was crazy-busy so no new chapter. This week I had the time to edit so here you go. This is chapter 13 of the Davies. This one starts with a bit of telling instead of showing. It needed to condense boring weeks of normality down to a few paragraphs so you had the info for the rest of the story. Hopefully it doesn’t ruin the chapter. After all, readers actually get to see the two main characters finally meeting! Sparks fly…sort of.

For Kennedy the next few weeks hummed along with a peaceable rhythm. Working for Mrs. Hughes was going well and the pay went a long way to easing her worries. Her new boss enjoyed entertaining almost as much as restoration. At least once a week she threw a luncheon or dinner party and often had Kennedy attend. She’d met a wide variety of people from the town and the North Shore in general; a mix of summer people and year-rounders. Her favorites were the little old ladies invited for luncheon or afternoon tea. She expected them to be boring, instead they were an entertaining mix of unfiltered and opinionated.

The people she expected to be the most interesting, the artists, were often self-absorbed, which meant boring. They weren’t like the artists her mom had been friends in the city. They were effusive, and a wee bit nutty, but they were not so…inaccessible. She didn’t know what to make of the crowd at Mrs. Hughes’ sometimes. Once, Rebecca was sick and she had to sub in to serve and that was fun. She got to listen to the conversation without having to participate.

On Sundays Will would come over for dinner after church and they would head out to the deck to sit and listen to the stories the aunties would tell. These involved one or more of them making a fool of themselves or barely surviving some escapade. Sometimes they would mention her mom, but usually they stuck with tales about themselves. Occasionally Will would contribute one or he’d pull out a deck of cards and they’d play games while the light lasted. It wasn’t anything special, other than time with people she was growing to love. These sweet afternoons began to bridge the gap between grief and peace.

Will had become her personal tour guide as promised and had shown her all over the coast. But they never spent time in town or out in public much at all and Kennedy suspected it was due to his worry that anyone would get the wrong about their friendship and judge both him and her. He worried that people would think he was too old for her or think the worst of both of them for her being Ella’s cousin.

In the evenings they sat on his deck and watched the sun set over the marsh. Will had put a set of speakers in the window and they’d listen to music, or more often, a baseball game. On the occasions the bugs were too much so they sat inside. She’d curl up beside him, close, but not too close. These were her favorite nights since it provided human contact, something she’d done without for some time and there was no worry that he’d expect more from her or misunderstand.

Despite all that, when July 4^th arrived, and she’d been invited to the annual joint First Baptist and Coventry Parish Fourth of July Picnic Will had steadfastly refused to go. She had no idea what to expect and hoped he’d go with her. When he refused, she pestered the Aunties about what she should be bringing, how she was supposed to act, and what she should wear.

“Good lord, child. It’s a picnic. Wear something comfortable and have a good time.” Beth had explained.

Once at the picnic, she was surprised to find she loved it from the three kinds of potato salad to the old-school games and hymn sing. There was a good enough crowd that she didn’t feel pressured to socialize and could just soak up the small-town goodness. The food was all a traditional Yankee’s idea of barbeque, and she found that she liked everything but the gelatinous lemon squares and the bean salad.

Beth and Kate either bustled about the tables with the rest of the hospitality committee or talked with friends. Kennedy had offered to help but they shooed her away and told her to have fun. She did, for the most part. Toward the end of the day she sat next to the pastor’s wife as the party wound down.

Merci was unlike any stereotype of a pastor’s wife Kennedy had ever known. She might be petite, but she was a force to be reckoned with. Whether it was with kids, adults, she knew what to say, when, and how to say it. There was empathy too, it was like you could tell she was trying to understand, not just hear you.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Merci asked her as they sat together looking out over the party.

            “You know what, I am.” Kennedy laughed softly, surprised by it herself.

“If it’s alright for me to get nosy, I’d like to point out that you seem to be fitting in quite nicely here despite being surrounded by us old people.”

 “Old?” Merci couldn’t have been much over thirty. “Ah no, and I don’t mind you being nosy, though that statement hardly qualifies.”

“Oh, well that just invites more prying. Can I ask if you and Will Vaughn are…” she trailed off. Kennedy gave her a small smile. She knew this was coming eventually.

            “I think you just did and no, we aren’t.” She paused a moment before adding “Actually, I’m glad you asked. It’s better to avoid any misunderstandings.  Will is kind of uptight about that.”

“And you figure telling the pastor’s wife will take care of spreading the message?” Her tone was playful. “Not to worry, I like greasing the wheels of communication. It’s one of my roles; sometimes one of the easier ones. Our congregation is full of humans, and where you have humans, you have conflict. I love them all anyway.”

            “Love covers a multitude of sins.” Kennedy quoted.

“That it does.” Merci seemed to consider Kennedy before continuing. “I’m pleased to see you didn’t let the momentary display of one scare you off.”

Kennedy guessed that it was the Mrs. Bettencourt incident she was referring to.

Merci leaned in “No one is two-dimensional. Even the most difficult among us have depths that none of us know, pains and sorrows that have shaped who they are. Sometimes we’re getting someone on their worst day, at the end of their emotional resources and we need to give them a bit of grace.”  

Kennedy nodded slowly. “I get that, but it’s hard to understand why they feel they can do it, why they can be so cruel to someone they don’t even know. Mrs. Bettencourt wasn’t the first person to ever talk about me or my mom. How she did it was nasty.”

 Merci sat back. “When a person has been letting their pain dictate their actions, and they’ve been doing it long enough, they can’t tell when they inflict it on others anymore. In a crowded room they feel alone, they strike out to feel secure. Your loss, I think, has not had that effect on you and I am I glad to see that.”

“I guess it hasn’t.” Kennedy looked out over the kids playing and the old ladies bustling about the food tables, and the teenage boys playing football while the teenage girls stood in a knot, talking, whispering, and darting glances at the guys. She was comfortable, not crawling out of her skin with anxiety. These weeks had made a difference. “I think I need this.” She nodded out to the people around them. “I need to rub shoulders with the rest of humanity again even if it hurts.”

 “I get that. You know, I wasn’t exactly the most popular girl in town when we came to take over the church here. It took a while to be accepted and frankly there are some who will probably never like me.” Merci smiled ruefully. “I can live with that. Sometimes it gets Greg in an uproar and he has to take a walk to cool his head, but it’s like you said – rubbing shoulders.”

On the walk home with the Aunties, Kate asked “Do you have any plans for the evening dear?”

            “Yes, Will said he’d like to see the fireworks out over the harbor so I’m going to meet him at the dock, and we’ll sail over.”

Kate looked horrified at this. Kennedy just laughed. “At a safe distance auntie.”

Back at the house she changed into jeans. The night was still hot, so she left on the silk, halter-style top that she had worn to the party. It was a little dressy for sitting in a boat, but it was light and flowy, and she didn’t want to put on anything that would stick to her. She hiked down to the dock and Will was waiting to hand her in. He had left the dingy at his house and had picked her up in a bigger boat with an outboard motor. He handed her a life jacket and they cruised out into the waterway that led to the open ocean.

They stuck close to the coast, and she could see groups of people gathered on the little beaches tucked here and there among the rocks setting off their own fireworks. They were completely illegal, but they did make the shore sparkle. Between that and the lights of the large homes overlooking the water the evening was feeling magical despite the gathering dark.

Will steered the boat into shore and tied off at a dock. She was surprised since she thought they were going to be watching from the harbor, and they hadn’t made it all the way there yet. The dock led to a long wooden staircase that disappeared up the hill from the water. Through the trees she could see a massive house though. She took off her life jacket and arched an eyebrow at him.

“There’s this party I’ve been invited to. I wanted to drop by. You don’t mind, do you?”

She did and it must have shown on her face since he apologized.

 “I’m sorry, but it will only take a few minutes, and you might just have a good time.” He gave her shoulder a poke as if she was just being pouty. She wasn’t. She could see through the trees that the house was practically a mansion, and she was not dressed for a party at any mansion. And what happened to Will not wanting people to get the wrong idea?

 “Will, I’m not dressed for it.”

“No, you’re fine. This is always casual.” He climbed out of the boat and held out his hand. Kennedy very reluctantly followed him up the long staircase to the house. Instead of going up to the house, they went around the side to a huge gazebo-like structure that was enclosed by glass doors. Christmas lights were strung through the trees and they gently winked on and off as the branches swayed with the wind off the water. It would have been a magical kind of place had she not been anxious as hell.

The screen house (which is what Will called it) was filled with light and people, lots of people. It was a large open room with a long bar at one end and a stage at the other where a band sat playing upbeat, acoustic music. The place looked like something out of a John Hughes movie. Kennedy expected to see Andrew McCarthy lounging against the wall. Looking down at her Target flip flops and Old Navy jeans she felt like Molly Ringwald. Damn.  She would have sunk right through the floor if she could.

Will led them up to a knot of people at the bar. He called out to one of the guys and dragged her over to introduce them.

“This fine gentleman is Owen Caldwell.” He slapped the man on the back.

Owen turned to face her and looked her over from her ponytail to her sandals slow enough to make her uncomfortable.

“I’m introducing you to him first to make sure you know who to watch out for.” Will laughed, “And Owen, this is Kennedy Davies.”

Owen was moderately tall, probably just shy of six feet. He had black hair that was slightly curly and long enough to be attractive, but not sloppy. He was handsome for sure, but in an inaccessible way. Some people with natural beauty felt warm and inviting almost without realizing it. Owen seemed comfortable with himself, but it lent to a palpable arrogance that radiated off him. He was wearing a white dress shirt and linen trousers. His nod to casual was that he had left the top two buttons of the shirt undone and rolled the sleeves back.

Kennedy decided not to put Owen in the friend column. She didn’t appreciate the cool assessing look he had given her and even now his eyes only spent part of their time on her face. There was nothing wrong with being admired; in fact, it gave her a thrill she let herself acknowledge, but this guy was clearly a taker. Will must have sensed her disapproval as he immediately stuck a drink in her hand and tried to make light of it.

“I decided I’d torture Kennedy with this party for a bit. We can’t stay. I promised her we’d watch the fireworks from the harbor.”

Owen nodded at this, eyes back on her face again. His own expression was stony. He certainly didn’t wear his feelings on his face the way Will did. Owen stepped a little closer to her and leaned down to be heard over the music playing, “Davies, so you must be Ella’s cousin?” He said this close enough to be out of Will’s hearing and Kennedy wondered if he was trying to avoid an unpleasant association for Will who had his back to them ordering a drink at the bar.

“Yes.” She resisted the temptation to take one step back from him. He was standing too close and the look he was giving her now was one of clear interest. Normally she would have put some distance between them, but she didn’t want to look spooked, so she stood her ground. Where is he going with this anyway?

Will got his drink and returned to them with a smile. “I’m glad I finally got to introduce you two. Owen is one of my oldest friends – well outside of the state of Tennessee anyway. And other than being incredibly bad with women, a cheat at basketball, and a prodigious drunk, he’s a good man.” He laughed, ignoring his friend’s eye roll.

Will looked up at the sound of someone calling his name from across the room. “It’s Craig. Give me a second Kennedy. I need to talk to the man and rub in last night’s loss before he’s too drunk to care. I’ll be right back.” And off he went across the room leaving her at the mercy of Owen.

Owen leaned in again as if he was about to say something, but a woman sidled up to him and draped herself on his arm. Kennedy recognized her from one of Mrs. Hughes’ luncheons. She didn’t know her name, but she remembered her well enough. The woman moved as if she owned the room and Owen too. She was wearing a silky sleeveless dress that hit just above her knee in a color that went well with her blonde hair and gold sandals. It was a terrible hue on its own, but for her it worked. She was almost six feet tall in her heels and from her perch she gave Kennedy a long, assessing look.

            “Owen, are you going to introduce me to Will’s new girlfriend?” She looked at Kennedy as if she wanted to be friendly. Kennedy knew better. Owen’s face had, if possible, become even stonier. She wasn’t sure if that was disapproval of her or this woman and she didn’t care. It was rapidly becoming apparent that this was the worst sort of party, one where she knew no one and wouldn’t have liked them if she had. Her head was spinning exit strategies.

“Just a friend Renee. This is Kennedy Davies.” Owen introduced her. His tone was cautious, like he wasn’t sure what this woman was up to.

            “Oh!” Renee chirped. “One of the Davies girls?”

Kennedy was less than pleased with this. What was the deal with her family in this stupid town? “I guess, not really sure what that means.” Kennedy tried to laugh it off.

“Well, it’s how all of you are these independent creatures.” She explained as if that was a compliment. “I always admire a woman who is who she is regardless of where she is.” She said this while giving Kennedy’s outfit another once-over. “I mean you’re all rebels of some sort, aren’t you? Didn’t you drop out of college?”    

            “No.” Kennedy said flatly. “I’m taking some time off from grad school.”

“Oh right. I remember now. I think we may have met at Mrs. Hughes’ the other day. You were serving lunch, weren’t you?”

Kennedy took a moment to breathe before responding. She wouldn’t have minded being confused with a server at one of Mrs. Hughes’ events, there was nothing shameful in an honest job, but Renee knew damn well she wasn’t. She was purposely trying to belittle her and the only reason for that had to be Owen.  This woman had the claws out and it was so pointless. “Maybe with so many people there you have me confused.” She explained. “Mrs. Hughes has hired me as an archivist.”

“Right, the librarian. I forgot. Mrs. Hughes loves to hire people from the community rather than professionals. I think that’s great. Really shows how much she gives back.” Renee gave Owen a conspiratorial look. One point in Owens’ favor – he ignored her and continued to stare fixedly at a spot just over Kennedy’s shoulder.

But that last crack was enough. Renee was marking her territory by taking pot shots at Kennedy while clinging like a python to Owen. It was transparent and ridiculous. Kennedy had no plans for this guy, so her vitriol was wasted. A quick check of the room showed that Will was absorbed in conversation so there was no rescue there. Her temper was flaring and she was mean when angry. Since the choice here was to bail or fling a drink in Renee’s face, it was time to go.

“Thanks so much, but I really don’t need this.” Kennedy set down her untouched glass on the bar. Try as she might, her anger was getting the best of her. “I’m not sure why you had to get out the claws Renee. I sense you may have some self-esteem issues or maybe some unresolved aggression.” She cocked her head to the side. “You know they make meds for that, don’t you?” Then she turned on her heel and stormed out without a backwards glance. She didn’t wait for Will; she was going to kill Will. Weeks of avoiding public places and people and he leads her right into a lion’s den of the worst humans. Death was too good for him.

Once outside there was no way she was going to climb down the stairs to the dock and sit in the boat in full view of the entire place like a sulking baby. There was nothing for it but to walk home. The problem was, she didn’t know where the heck she was. The street wasn’t marked, but it looked like a main road and it had to head somewhere she’d be able to get service and GPS her way home or call an Uber.  

She was still seething over Will’s stupidity when her feet started to protest at the pace, and she slowed down. As she walked the anger began to fade and so did her energy. Holding her phone up to the sky she searched for a signal. She did not text Will to say she was leaving. Serves him right. He was probably still clueless. Oh freaking well. Kennedy began to feel the burn in her chest that always heralded tears. Great. Cause that will make this better.