Reminders of Him(53)

“Grace’s coworker told my aunt,” one of the mothers says.

“I can’t believe she actually had the nerve to come back,” Whitney says. “Grady said Grace and Patrick filed a restraining order.”

“They did?” I play dumb, because it’s better than letting them know how much I know. They’ll just ask more questions.

“You didn’t know?” Whitney asks.

“We talked about it. Wasn’t sure if they went through with it.”

“I don’t blame them,” she says. “What if she tries to take Diem?”

“She wouldn’t do that,” I say. I throw the bag in my truck and slam the tailgate shut.

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Whitney says. “Addicts do crazy shit.”

“She isn’t an addict.” I say it too adamantly. Too quickly. I can see suspicion in Whitney’s eyes.

I wish Roman were at this game. He couldn’t make it today, and he’s usually my excuse to escape the mom brigade. Some of them are friends with Leah, so they don’t flirt with me directly, out of respect for her. But Roman isn’t off limits, so I usually leave him to the wolves when they show up.

“Tell Grady I said hello.” I walk away from them and head toward Grace and Diem.

I don’t know how to defend Kenna in these kinds of situations. I don’t know that I should. But it feels wrong allowing everyone to continue to think the worst of her.



I didn’t tell Kenna I was picking her up today, but I didn’t know I was until I was on my way to the bar and realized it was almost time for her shift at the grocery store to end.

I pull into the parking lot, and it’s not even two whole minutes before she walks outside. She doesn’t notice my truck. She walks toward the road, so I drive across the parking lot to intercept her.

She sees my truck, and I swear she makes a face when I point to the passenger door. She mutters “Thanks” when she opens the door. And then, “You don’t have to give me rides. I’m fine walking.”

“I just left the ball field; it was on my way.”

She sets her purse between us and then pulls on her seat belt. “Is she any good at T-ball?”

“Yeah. I don’t think she likes the game as much as she likes hanging out with her friends, though. But if she stuck with it, I think she’d be pretty good.”

“What else does she do besides T-ball?”

I can’t blame Kenna for being curious. I’ve put myself in this position by already sharing too much with her, but now the moms have planted a seed in my head.

What if she’s only asking so she can get a handle on Diem’s schedule? The more she knows about Diem’s activities, the easier it would be for her to show up and take her. I feel guilty even thinking that, but Diem is my number one priority in life, so I’d feel even shittier not feeling a little overprotective.

“I’m sorry,” Kenna says. “I shouldn’t ask you questions you don’t feel comfortable answering. It’s not my place.”

She looks out her window as I pull onto the street. She does this thing where she flexes her fingers and then grips her thighs. Diem does the same thing with her fingers. It’s incredible how two people who have never met can have so many of the same mannerisms.

It’s too loud in the truck, and I feel like I need to warn her, so I roll up my window as I pick up speed. “They filed a restraining order against you.”

I see her look at me out of the corner of my eye. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I wanted to give you a heads-up before you get served papers.”

“Why would they do that?”

“I think what happened at the grocery store scared Grace.”

She shakes her head and looks back out her window. She doesn’t say anything else until we pull up to the alley behind the bar.

I feel like I’ve set her up for failure tonight by putting her in a bad mood as soon as she got in my truck. I shouldn’t have told her about the restraining order right before her shift, but I feel like she has the right to know. She honestly hasn’t done anything to deserve being served a restraining order, but the simple fact that she exists in the same town as Diem is reason enough for the Landrys to file one on her.

“She takes dance,” I say, answering her earlier question about Diem. I put my truck in park and pull up the video from her recital. “That’s where I was last night. She had a recital.” I hand Kenna the phone.

She watches the first several seconds with a straight face and then bursts into laughter.

I hate that I love watching Kenna’s face when she watches videos of Diem. It does something to me. Makes me feel something I probably shouldn’t be feeling. But I like the feeling, and it makes me wonder what it would be like getting to witness Kenna and Diem interact in real life.

Kenna watches the video three times with a huge smile on her face. “She’s horrible!”

It makes me laugh. There’s a joy to her voice that isn’t usually there, and I wonder if that joy would always be present if Diem were a part of Kenna’s life.

“Does she like dance?” Kenna asks.

I shake my head. “No. After the recital was over, she said she wanted to quit and do ‘that thing with the swords.’”