Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Ugh, Tab and Evie, I’m such an idiot.” Seated in her car in Brighton Gardens’s parking lot, eyes closed, Kennedi pounded her head back against the seat’s headrest, hoping to knock some sense into it, and confided in her best friends via Bluetooth. “There’s nothing more embarrassing than getting rejected after offering your heart to a man while the two of you are tangled up stark naked.”

“Yeah, that’s rough,” Evie hissed. “But you said he didn’t answer you.”

“I’m thinking that’s worse than if he’d said no,” Tabitha put in. “You know better than to profess that level of feelings during or after sex…unless he does it first.”

Covering her weary eyes with her palms, Kennedi groaned. “Thanks for the clarity, Tab.” Her friend had never been one to sugarcoat, always the pragmatist. “As business partners, I suppose it’s actually better that Trenton and I not take things further.”

“You don’t sound all too convincing. On the upside, Chase Confections will get a new and improved space. You did it. You got us back our store.” Tabitha cheered. “Consider it a win.”

“I didn’t do anything. Trenton offered us space. Who the hell knows why he does the things he does? I surely don’t have a clue what’s going on in that head of his. One minute I think he’s into me, and—”

“Well, he was…literally.” Tabitha snickered.

“Good one.” Evie laughed.

Kennedi rolled her eyes. “You guys are so not funny right now.”

“Sorry.” Tabitha chuckled, not sounding at all contrite. “It was too easy. Couldn’t help myself.”

Ignoring the one-sided humor, Kennedi continued, “In a blink, Trenton puts me at arm’s distance. Anyway, I’m done talking about it. I now know where he and I stand. If he wants to keep it business, we’ll keep it business.” She checked her face in the rearview mirror. “I need to have the attorney review the Chase Confections contract before we sign.” On a long sigh, she grabbed the container from the passenger seat and exited the car. “I’d better get off. I’m about to go see my father.”

“Give him a hug for me,” Evie said.

“Same. Hope he has a good day. I should get in early tomorrow morning. Kiss Dixie and Percy for me.”

“I’m not kissing your rabbits. Have a safe trip home.” They disconnected.

She entered the facility and made her way to the administration desk.

“Good morning, Pam.”

“Kennedi, it’s always good to see you. You’re here bright and early.”

“Yes, I know visiting time isn’t for another thirty minutes. I was up and thought I’d come see my father before heading to work, if that’s okay.”

Pam leaned forward, whispering, “For you, it’s fine. We’ve all been instructed to let you come and go whenever you like.”

Kennedi’s brow lifted. “Oh. Okay. Thank you.” Following their mishap with Pop, she could only conclude they appreciated her decision to not file an incident report with the founder.

“I’m afraid Mr. Chase had a rough night, according to my notes. He hardly slept,” Pam remarked. “And this morning he was scheduled for a haircut and shave but refused to allow the attendant to take him down to grooming. He insisted that his wife would take care of it.”

Kennedi nodded on a soft sigh. “My mother used to cut his hair. Maybe I could do it for him. I think he’ll be okay with that.” She read Pam’s reluctance. “It would keep him calm.”

“We don’t allow razors and the like in the suites, but I’ll run it by my supervisor. If he gives the okay, I’ll have the tools brought up.”

“Thanks.”

She made her way to Pop’s suite. Two suitcases sat stretched open on the couch. Entering the bedroom, she saw clothes cluttering the bed.

Hearing the faucet shut off in the bathroom she announced, “Morning, Pop,” while studying the scattered chess pieces across the board of their unfinished game.

The bathroom door opened. He came out carrying a bundled towel, made a beeline for the couch and dumped toiletries into the suitcase. Looking at her, a frown slid over his features. “Where have you been, young lady?”

Recognizing that it was a not so good day for him, she crossed the space and gave him a hug, studying the scruffy salt-and-pepper whiskers covering his cheeks. He’d always been one to keep himself well groomed. It must be torture that he could no longer tend to it himself when in the right state of mind.

“Pop, I brought your scones.”

“Pack your things. As soon as your mother gets here, we’re moving.” Stepping back into the bedroom, he grabbed a stack of clothes from the bed, returned, tossed them into the suitcase, and then marched back into the bathroom.

A knock came at the door before it opened. The facility attendant pushed in a cart. “Good morning.”

Pop rushed back into the room. “Get out!” he roared. “We don’t need anything from you! We’re leaving, you hear me!”

“Pop, calm down,” Kennedi gently chided and went to the attendant. “Thank you.”

“Call downstairs when you’re done, and they’ll send someone to get it,” he said and left the room.

She wheeled the cart to the table, then took her father by the hand. “I’m going to cut your hair. Mom’s busy right now.” She guided him into a chair and placed the opened container of scones in front of him before grabbing a towel from the suitcase and draping his shoulders.

“I need my coffee. I can’t have my scones without my coffee.”

“I’ll get it.” Quickly filling a mug with his favorite dark-roasted K-Cup blend and setting it before him brought a bit of calm.

She took up the hair clippers, the sharp blade easily offering a close crop as she glided it along his head.

He took a bite and tossed the uneaten half back into the container. “These aren’t blueberry scones.”

“They’re cinnamon. I didn’t have blueberries for the recipe.”

“I hate cinnamon. I want my blueberry scones. Your mother will bring them. I’ll call the store.” He tried to rise, but she pressed down solidly on his shoulders. He cut an angry look up at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Kennedi bit her lower lip hard to hide the quiver and scrubbed a palm at the growing ache of her forehead. Years of her mother catering to his every whim had apparently left a lasting footprint in his otherwise chaotic mind. Eleanor, on the other hand, had been her mother’s polar opposite, seeming more impressed by his wallet than anything else.

“Pop, I need you to sit, okay? I’ll bring you blueberry scones later. Now let me finish cutting your hair. Here.” She grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. “BBC World News. You enjoy that, right?”

As he settled into watching the show while devouring the scones he claimed to loathe, she clipped his hair and managed to give him a good, close shave. All through a glassy sheet of her tears. Then, she used the minutes of him at peace to put his things away and tidied up the suite.

Checking the time, she saw that eleven o’clock was close approaching. Seeing Pop’s head loll forward, she ushered him to bed, tucking him beneath the blanket. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

“You’ll have my blueberry scones?” he asked, eyes shuttered. “I hate cinnamon.”

She bit her lip, stifling a rebuttal, and planted a kiss on his forehead. The man had practically finished off the entire container of six large portions. “Yes, I’ll have your favorite.”

He took her hand in his, squeezing lightly. “And you’ll stay, angel? You won’t leave me? I don’t like it when you don’t come home. Promise you’ll stay.”

Kennedi’s throat knotted. “I promise.”

Certain he’d fallen asleep, she placed a call downstairs, and as soon as the attendant arrived, she headed off to work.

Her silent cries flowed unchecked down her cheeks. Too sad to sob out her anguish, she was lost in the agonizing grief of witnessing her father slip away from her.