Reminders of Him(54)

“Fencing?”

“She wants to try everything. All the time. But she never sticks to anything because she gets bored with it and thinks the next thing will be more interesting.”

“They say boredom is a sign of intelligence,” Kenna says.

“She’s very smart, so that would make sense.”

Kenna smiles, but as she hands me back my phone, her smile falters. She opens the door and heads toward the back door, so I follow suit.

I open the back door for her, and we’re greeted by Aaron. “Hey, boss,” he says. “Hey, Nic.”

Kenna walks over to him, and he lifts a hand. They high-five like they’ve known each other a lot longer than just one shift.

Roman walks into the back holding a tray of empty bottles. He nods at me. “How’d it go?”

“No one cried and no one vomited,” I say. That’s what we consider a successful day in T-ball.

Roman gets Kenna’s attention. “She had gluten-free. I put three of them in the fridge for you.”

“Thank you,” Kenna says. It’s the first hint of excitement I’ve ever seen come from her that had nothing to do with Diem. I have no idea what they’re talking about. I was gone for a few hours last night, and it’s like she developed personal relationships with everyone here.

And why is Roman buying her three of whatever it is they’re talking about?

Why am I having a slight visceral reaction to the thought of Kenna and Roman becoming close? Would he hit on her? Would I even have a right to be jealous? When I got back to the bar last night, they were taking their break at the same time. Did Roman do that on purpose?

Right when I have that thought, Mary Anne shows up for her shift. She hands Kenna a pair of what look like noise-cancelling headphones. Kenna says, “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I knew I had an extra pair at home,” Mary Anne says. She passes me and says, “Hey, boss,” before heading to the front.

Kenna hangs the headphones around her neck and then ties her apron. The headphones aren’t even attached to anything, and she doesn’t have a phone. I’m confused about how she’s going to listen to music with them.

“What are those for?” I ask her.

“To drown out the music.”

“You don’t want to hear music?”

She faces the sink, but not before I see her expression falter. “I hate music.”

She hates music? Is that even a thing? “Why do you hate music?”

She looks at me over her shoulder. “Because it’s sad.” She covers her ears with the headphones and starts running water in the sink.

Music is the one thing that grounds me. I couldn’t imagine not being able to connect with it, but Kenna is right. Most songs are about love or loss, two things that are probably incredibly difficult for her to absorb in any medium.

I leave her to her duties and head to the front to start on mine. We haven’t opened just yet, so the bar is empty. Mary Anne is unlocking the front door, so I pause next to Roman. “Three what?”

He glances at me. “Huh?”

“You said you put three of something in the fridge for Kenna.”

“Nicole,” he corrects, looking across the room at Mary Anne. “And I was talking about cupcakes. Her landlord can’t have gluten, and she’s trying to stay on her good side.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, something about her electric bill.” Roman side-eyes me and then walks away.

I’m glad she’s getting along with everyone, but there’s also a small part of me that regrets leaving for most of my shift last night. I feel like they all got to know Kenna in a way I don’t know Kenna. I don’t know why that bothers me.

I go to the jukebox to start up a few songs before the crowd arrives, and I analyze each song I choose. It’s a digital jukebox with access to thousands of songs, but I realize it would take me all night to find even a handful that wouldn’t remind Kenna of Scotty or Diem in some way.

She’s right. In the end, if there’s nothing good going on in your life, almost every song becomes depressing, no matter what it’s about.

I put it on shuffle to match my mood.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


KENNA

I got a paycheck. It was small, and the way the paydays worked out, it was only for a partial week, but it was enough to finally get a new phone.

I’m sitting on the picnic table outside my apartment browsing apps. I opened at the grocery store today, so I had several hours between that shift and my shift at the bar tonight, so I’m just passing time outside. I try to get as much vitamin D as I can, considering my outdoor time was scheduled and limited for five solid years. I should probably buy vitamin D supplements so my body can catch up.

A car pulls into a parking spot, and I look up in time to see Lady Diana waving wildly at me from the front seat. We work different shifts most days, which is unfortunate. It would be nice to be able to ask her mother for a ride to and from work, but my hours are longer than Lady Diana’s. Ledger has given me rides a handful of times, but I haven’t seen him at all since he dropped me off at my apartment after my second shift last Saturday night.

I’ve never met Lady Diana’s mother. She looks to be a little older than me, maybe midthirties. She smiles and follows Lady Diana across the grass until they reach me. Lady Diana gestures toward the phone in my hand. “She got a phone—why can’t I have a phone?”