Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

With the swipe of her key card, Kennedi entered Pop’s suite and crossed to the bedroom.

“Hi, Pop.” She paused for a moment at the threshold to gauge his faculties and let out a quiet breath when warm brown eyes lit with recognition, crinkling at the outer corners. Bed angled upright, he watched BBC News. He always enjoyed keeping up on current world events—another sign of him having a good day.

“Hey, angel. Well, now look at you. Where are you going all dolled up? Got a hot date?”

“Pop, it’s nine thirty in the morning.”

“Romance doesn’t tell time, my darling.”

She laughed. “What does that even mean?” On her way to his bedside, she smoothed a hand atop her neat high bun while giving a glimpse down at the white, sensible blouse tucked into a simple navy-blue, mid-thigh-length pencil skirt, on down to black leather pumps just as simple. Lately business attire had replaced her typical T-shirt, jeans and apron. Leaning in, she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Love can fog the air any time of day, my angel. Know that.” He grinned, then a slight frown clouded his cheery features. “I was glad when you came to your senses and stopped seeing that blond fellow.” A harsh grunt drove home his disapproval. “The man wasn’t right for you.”

“No one’s good enough for me according to you, Pop.” That said, Blake had been nearly three years ago. He’d never liked the man, citing he was too full of himself. He’d been right. As for her recent ex—if a little over a year ago was considered recent and the fact the relationship lasted all of two months—Pop had introduced her to his business colleague who apparently had been no different.

“You need to find yourself a successful black man. He’ll appreciate you. Yes,” he nodded, “that’s what you need.”

She bit back a sigh and tried to keep up with his seesaw of thoughts. “Pop, Neal is black, remember? Evidently, men with baggage come in all shades. And I don’t need a man.” Not wishing to discuss her love life—or more to the point, the lack of it—she held up the bag in her hand. “I brought you a pumpkin Danish. I used Mom’s recipe, the way you like it.”

“Good. None of that gluten-free crap.” He smiled with a wink while digging into the bag. “If I’m going to eat the bad stuff, I may as well enjoy it. So, how are things at the boutique?”

He’d coined the term for her mom’s store those many years ago and said her confections were a work of art. “It’s okay. Tabitha and Evie send their best.” Funny how he never inquired about his own company. “I’m headed to Chase Investments. I wanted to talk to you about some decisions I’m considering that could help relieve you…us of debt.”

“My goodness, that bomb took out that entire bus of civilians. They’re calling it collateral damage.” He shook his head and took a bite of the pastry. “Damn shame is what it is.”

Kennedi turned her head to the mounted flat screen and watched an aerial view of a charred bus and billows of smoke. She turned back to find his attention plastered on the carnage and braced for his reaction. “Pop, I’m thinking of selling Chase Investments.”

With a mouthful of pastry, his gaze slid away from the TV, meeting hers.

She tensed and said quietly, “Shaw Enterprise has…has presented us an offer.”

Silence followed through several heartbeats before he held up the half-eaten dessert. “I think this is about the best one yet. Kenni, baby, you could learn a lot from your mother. She could use your help more at the boutique. She’s been so tired lately.”

“Pop, Mom’s been gone for three years. You married Eleanor two years ago but have been divorced now a little over six months.” His expression displayed a peculiar look, leading her to wonder if any of what she’d said cut through his rapidly deteriorating brain. Suddenly his features altered so darkly, her breath seized in her lungs.

“Why would you say such cruel, ugly things? I love your mother and would never leave her!” His voice lifted with each word, shocking her. “Young lady, you should be ashamed of yourself! After all we do for you, this is how you behave?” Shoving what was left of his pastry back into the bag, he rolled it closed and flung it at the side table, but it landed on the floor. He snatched the remote for the bed and lowered the mattress flat. “Don’t come back to this house until you can show me and your mother more respect. Ungrateful is what you are.”

It was as though that entire chapter of his life with Eleanor had disappeared. Though the doctor had said to expect these sorts of mental shifts, witnessing it firsthand she fought not to burst into tears as she picked up the bag and placed it on the table. “I’ll let you rest and come back tomorrow. Love you, Pop.”

He turned away from her and brought the blanket up to his shoulders, no words spoken.

She left the suite and managed to keep her emotions in check as she spoke with the neurologist, having long stopped expecting a turn for the better. Bad news in all things had become her reality.

Now, seated in her car in Brighton Gardens’s visitors’ parking lot, she expelled a shaky breath to relieve the excruciating ache of melancholy in her chest. Her head back against the seat, eyes closed as tears flooded her cheeks, she was consumed in the gut-wrenching pain of helplessness at having to watch her father slip away from her before her eyes.

Taking deep, even breaths, struggling to pull herself together, she started the car and put it in drive, but the watery pools of her eyes obstructed her vision, lost within the wild tide of anguish. Throwing the gear back in park, she gave in to the agony. Gave in to what Pop was now. Gave in to what he would never be again. Gave in to the ache that the hollowness of her loss would leave in her heart.

When she’d cried her tear ducts dry, finding a modicum of strength, she drove off. Work. Focus on work.

About ten minutes into the drive, she pulled up on her car’s dash Audrey’s number. A short ring, and the line connected.

“Good morning, Kennedi. I had my finger on the dial to call you.” Audrey’s tone was about as bright as the cloudless, sunny morning.

“Good morning.” If only. Kennedi lifted the middle armrest and took from it a tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose. “Sorry. Allergies. I’m on my way in. Can you contact Trenton Shaw to try to schedule me a meeting with him today? I’ll take whatever time he has available. Tell him all I need is ten minutes.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Audrey’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s here now waiting for you.”

Kennedi stiffened in surprise. “Really? Did he say why?”

“No, but I told him you were due in this morning. He insisted on waiting. You should get here before Richard talks his ears off. I don’t know who Richard thinks he is lately. He’s bossing everyone around. He has the staff getting his coffee and fetching his lunch. He even ordered Erica to pick up his dry cleaning. In all my years here, Mr. Chase never behaved that way.”

Kennedi winced. With everything that had taken place during her last meeting with Shaw, she’d forgotten to speak to Richard. “Audrey, I’ll handle it. I promise. I’m on my way.”