Chapter Twenty-Five

Kendall

Early Monday night the doorbell rings. Mom is wrist deep in homemade pizza dough while I shred cheese so I quickly wipe my hands with a paper towel and go to answer it. Swinging the door wide, I can’t believe my eyes.

“Vaughn?”

He lifts his aviator sunglasses to his forehead. “Hi.” He smiles next, making my pulse trip over itself.

I lean against the edge of the door for support. “What are you doing here?” Now I know why I hadn’t heard from him. He was flying the friendly skies and no doubt making all the flight attendants’ and passengers’ day from his mere presence.

“I thought maybe you could use some extra support at the funeral tomorrow.”

Wow. This is one of those surprise moments life has up her sleeve that I’m both happy and confused over. Despite the uncertainty between us, Vaughn is here, standing two feet in front of me, offering his support. He didn’t have to be here. Not at all, yet he chose to be. This is better than the “I’m just a boy standing in front of a girl…” Notting Hill moment. This is a supreme gesture, one that presses pause on our debatable relationship.

Does this make my decision about where or if he fits in my life more difficult? Heck yes. But deep down, I’m bowled over by his concern and thrilled to see him.

Something of my inner monologue must show on my face because his smile falters.

“I should have checked with you first.” He takes a backward step, adjusting the duffel bag hanging off his shoulder.

“What? No.” Now that he’s here, a greedy part of me insists on clinging. I lunge at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face to the crook of his neck. His scent is familiar. Soothing. I breathe it in like I’m oxygen starved. “Thank you. Thank you for coming all this way.” This will probably make a final good-bye even more painful, but I’ll deal with the fallout later. The fact that he’s made a gesture like this overwhelms me to the point that I’m incapable of gathering a single defense.

He tucks a finger under my chin to lift my face to his. The soft kiss he presses to my lips makes my legs weak. “I had to come. I couldn’t stand not being here for you.”

“How did you know where I live?”

“Dixie hooked me up with your address. Then she told me she’d have my balls if I so much as blinked at you the wrong way while you were dealing with Mason’s death. I think she’s starting to take her sister status a little more seriously.”

“Maybe so.” I take his hand. “Come inside. My mom and I are cooking. I’ll introduce you.”

“I should warn you right now, moms love me.”

I roll my eyes but inwardly smile. I close the door behind him, put his bag on the hardwood floor next to the entry table, and note he’s dressed a little less casual than usual with a light green collared button-down that turns his eyes emerald. “I’m pretty sure everyone loves you,” I say over my shoulder.

Something flashes across his face, but as soon as it’s there it’s gone. He opens his mouth to respond, then closes it, thinking better of it, I guess. And proving that while we can tease each other, our situation is also fraught. Right now it’s too easy to say the wrong thing. We arrive at the kitchen just as Mom calls out, “Who was at the door?”

“Mom, this is Vaughn. Vaughn, my mom, Sherry.”

Her eyes bug out of her head when she looks at him. I’m not sure if it’s because of the things I’ve told her about him or because she’s surprised. Probably a combination of both.

“Hello,” he says. He starts to extend his hand then notes her hands are full of flour as she rolls out the pizza dough and drops his arm. “It’s a pleasure to meet the mom of one of my favorite people.”

“The pleasure’s mine.” Mom takes the two of us in before settling a questioning gaze on me.

“Vaughn came for Mason’s funeral.”

“For Kendall,” he corrects, and sends me a patient look. “I know tomorrow is going to be tough.”

Mom washes her hands at the sink and shoots me a look that says, He’s a keeper.

She misses my, Yeah, but I can’t keep him, look because she wipes her palms down her apron then steps toward Vaughn and hugs him. “Thank you.” She pulls back. “That means a lot. We’re making pizza for dinner. Would you like to stay?”

“I would.”

Jeez. Slow down there, Mom. Dinner with the family puts me in more danger. It means my mom and dad will get to know Vaughn directly. And vice versa. Stories will be swapped. Laughs shared. It’s one thing for my parents to hear about Vaughn from me, where I own the flow of information. Quite another for them to bypass me and form their own bonds. I try to catch my mom’s eye before this spirals further out of my control, but there’s no stopping her when she’s in Mom mode.

“Where are you staying tonight?” she asks, resuming cooking duties while unknowingly sending my pulse into a tailspin.

“I thought I’d grab a room at the nearest hotel.”

“Nonsense. You’ll stay here. I’ll make up the guest room.”

Vaughn laces our fingers together. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

And now things are definitely, irretrievably beyond my control.

The hand holding does not go unnoticed by Mom. “How are you at slicing tomatoes?” she asks the guy currently in possession of more than my hand.

“Umm…”

I glance at him and out of nowhere, I laugh. Only my mom would look at Vaughn Shaughnessy and think, “Sure, he’s easy on the eyes, but can he slice tomatoes?”

“Vaughn’s more of a takeout kind of guy.” I release his hand and slip around the counter to get back to grating cheese.

“Today he’s the tomato guy. Come on, I’ll demonstrate.”

It’s surreal standing in the kitchen of the house I grew up in with my mom and Vaughn and talking and laughing while we make pizza. I sneak peeks at him constantly, admiring the quick, genuine smiles he offers my mom as she not-so-subtly pumps him for personal deets.

“Kendall tells me you live next door to Jack and Sally. Did you grow up in Los Angeles?”

“Born and raised.”

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“Mom.”

“It’s okay,” Vaughn says, finished slicing the tomatoes. “I had a sister, but she passed away several years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mom touches his arm in comfort.

“Thank you.” A beat of silence passes. “How about you? I’m not sure which side of the family Aunt Sally is on?”

Mom grins and launches into our family tree. I’d like to hide behind a giant oak right about now, but I grin, too, and bear it. Thankfully, our tree isn’t all that big, and he’s already met almost half of it. Mom puts two pizzas in the oven just as my dad walks into the room.

I make introductions, and then, since Mom has a green salad ready to go, the four of us sit down at the table to start eating.

Dad doesn’t waste any time getting to the bottom of my relationship with Vaughn. “I take it you and Kendall have gotten to know each other well.” It’s a fair question considering I’ve never told anyone outside of family and Brit about the accident and Mason.

“Vaughn’s been a true friend.” I don’t need my dad to know exactly how deeply we’re involved.

“She’s been a better one,” Vaughn says easily, going along with my friendship description.

Dad gives a nod of acknowledgment. “Did you talk to any of your old classmates today?” he asks me. “Jim Baker’s daughter is starting law school in the fall, too, you know.”

“I did not know.”

“You two should touch base before school starts.”

I run my fork through my salad. “Maybe.”

“Kendall is going to make an incredible attorney one day,” Dad tells Vaughn.

“I’ve no doubt she’ll be incredible at anything she chooses to do,” he says. His eyes bounce from my dad to me. Hold. They’re saying everything he respectfully won’t say out loud. Choose what you love.

Sometimes that isn’t an option. What is that saying? Do what you have to do until you can do what you want to do.

Whatever decision I ultimately make about my career, with Mason’s funeral tomorrow, I’m too emotional to think too deeply about it now.

Mom pulls the pizzas out of the oven. I’m grateful we polish them off over simple conversation. When finished, Vaughn and I do the dishes. I show him the guest bedroom and bath. While he’s brushing his teeth or whatever, Mom corners me in the hallway.

“I won’t bug you for all the details now, but I need the whole scoop after he leaves.”

“I’ve told you—”

“Don’t even,” she interrupts with a wave of her hand. “I can see the way you two look at each other, and I’ve heard the sound of your voice for weeks when you’ve talked about him on the phone. You two are in love.”

“What? No we’re not.”

“Do not lie to me, Kendall Hewitt.”

I rest against the wall with a sigh. Oh my freaking God. That can’t be true, can it? “You think he loves me?”

“He flew all the way here to be with you, sweetie. What do you think?”

“I think our lives are going in completely different directions.”

“That may be true, but ask yourself this: is your life going in the direction of your dreams? You gave up one dream after the accident. I’d hate to see you settle for something that means more to your dad than you.”

I’m floored by her intuition, even though I probably shouldn’t be. I can’t hide things from her like I do my dad. She’s always seen right through me. “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“He could never be disappointed in you.”

But he could. After the accident, when he took care of all the legalities on my behalf, I overheard him use those exact words with his law partner. I’d let him down, and if it had been anyone else in the car with me, things could have gone very differently. Carrie and Brian didn’t push the district attorney for a harsh sentence—a big saving grace for my father’s efforts to shield me from maximum penalties.

The guest bedroom door opens and Vaughn steps out.

I abruptly lift away from the wall. “Hey. Want to watch a movie?” I ask him. It’s the first thing to come to my mind.

“Sounds good.”

“Good night, you two,” Mom says with a smile. “Breakfast is at eight. We’ll leave for Mason’s service at nine.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say.

“Thank you again for having me,” Vaughn adds.

As soon as Mom rounds the corner, Vaughn scoops me into his arms. He holds me for a long time, his chin on top of my head, his hand rubbing up and down my back.

“I can hear you thinking, Kendall. Stop worrying. Stop feeling like you have to draw a line so we both understand the boundaries. I’m here because I wanted to be with you. That’s all we have to say. For now.”

There’s a big conversation hidden in those two little words, so “for now” I’m going to tiptoe around them, but still speak from my heart. “I’m really glad you’re here,” I say into his shoulder.

“I am, too. Your mom makes the best damn pizza ever.”

I manage a smile. He’s trying so hard to lighten the seriousness of the situation. I still can’t believe he hopped on a plane to be with me for the funeral. His flight back to L.A. is in the afternoon. He’s traveled all this way for less than twenty-four hours because he cares about me.

And if you truly care about him, you’ll cut him a clean break before he gets back on that plane.

“If you think her pizza is yummy, you should try her spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Anytime,” he replies, and I realize my attempt to keep the mood light came out like an invitation, or at least a possibility. “Vaughn, I didn’t mean—”

“Shh. I know what you meant. We’re letting that be for now, remember?”

I do, and then I don’t, because he leans in, cups my neck, and kisses me. Softly at first, full of tenderness and comfort. But the kiss turns hotter the second he parts his lips, because I slip my tongue inside, lured by the solace, yet immediately swept up in the need. Tonight he tastes like the best Italian dish ever, and I could live off his kisses forever. His hands find my waist. He slants his head to angle my mouth right where he wants it. For several mindless minutes we make out in the hallway, lost to everything but each other. I almost forget I can’t handle being with him in the public eye, and he can’t risk his future on a girl with my past.

Sobering at the thought and the fact that we’re devouring each other in my parents’ home, I pull away.

“Umm…I think I’d better just go to bed.”

He runs his hand over my hair, brushing it back from my face. “It’s going to be okay,” he says before kissing my forehead.

I study the little furrow not normally on his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Something tells me he’s not, not at all, but he turns before I can question it.

…

A few marshmallow clouds hang in the light blue sky as we stand at Mason’s burial site. White folding chairs are situated in two rows for family members. Beautiful multicolored flower arrangements from the service adorn the short ends of the plot.

It’s my first funeral, and I hate it.

The pretty exterior does nothing to dull my inner pain, but I guess the warm summer day is better than rain.

As some unseen device lowers Mason’s casket into the ground, I cling to a memory of the two of us lying on towels at Big Foot Beach State Park, laughing as we tried to sculpt sand castles that kept collapsing, but really we didn’t care because we were content just hanging out together.

When the casket is released, a whimper slips through my pressed lips. I can’t imagine what his parents are going through right now. Vaughn squeezes my hand. He hasn’t let go of it the entire time we’ve been at the cemetery. He’s kept me standing when more than once I’ve wanted to crawl.

Mom takes my other hand, laces our fingers together. If not for these two people on either side of me, I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to remain here.

Mason’s passing has drawn a huge crowd to pay their condolences. Practically everyone in our small town knows Carrie and Brian, knows what happened that tragic night. Nobody’s blatantly pointing or shooting me dirty looks, but I once again feel like a pariah.

My gaze lands on Sarah standing beside Davis. They got engaged a few weeks ago, and as happy as I am for them, I know we’ll never be friends again. I think that makes me normal. Beside Sarah is Taylor. Taylor was the gossip queen in high school, and judging by the rumors she shared during our brief conversation, still is. Next to her is Willow Baker. Jim’s daughter can’t wait for law school and definitely wants to connect there. I simply nodded in response, grateful when another friend interrupted us in order to meet Vaughn.

I take that back. I’m grateful Vaughn is with me, but not thrilled with the attention he’s garnering. The people my parents’ age aren’t interested in him, but Mason’s and my friends from high school are an entirely different matter. Glancing across the burial site, they’re huddled together and trying to covertly snap pictures of Vaughn with their cell phones. Prior to the service, when I’d made the effort to say hello to everyone, the overwhelming response had been excitement at meeting the guy from the magazine ads and music videos.

This is a funeral. Honoring Mason and expressing sympathy to his family should be top priority. Instead, Vaughn is a distraction I didn’t think about. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I look up and catch Carrie’s eye. As expected, grief pulls at the lines of her face, but what isn’t expected is the irritation. She cuts a glance to mine and Mason’s old friends, then back to me. The message is clear—the twenty-somethings are more interested in Vaughn and my relationship than paying respects to her son. Her displeasure hits me like a punch in the throat.

“Hey,” Vaughn whispers in my ear.

I turn my head to look up at him.

“You all right?”

“I’ve been better.”

He brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Have I mentioned how strong you are? How brave? You’re here today when most people in your shoes probably would have chosen not to attend.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

As much as I want to forget this day, I won’t. I’ll remember the way Vaughn took my sadness and softened its edges with tenderness. I’ll remember how hard it was to keep my heart closed off when he understood it so well. He knows what it feels like to lose someone, and while my love for Mason and Vaughn’s love for his sister are very different, the experience of loss forms another bond between us.

“You won’t mind if I remind you a few more times, will you?”

“No.” How could I? It’s not lip service. His sincerity is tangible.

The moment the burial concludes, I tune out the rampant whispers from my peers and approach Carrie and Brian to apologize for any disturbance Vaughn and I have caused this morning.

Carrie doesn’t mince words. She asks us to leave. It’s crushing and expected at the same time. I fight back tears when I once again give her my condolences.

My legs shake as I say good-bye to my parents, telling them there’s no need for them to rush. I’ll see Vaughn off and then meet them at home.

“I’m really sorry my being here caused a problem,” Vaughn says. He wraps his arm around me, bringing me close to his side. I hear and feel his misery. It wasn’t his intention to upset anyone. I know that.

I also know I can’t keep doing this. “Me, too,” I say, sorry that when I say good-bye to him this time, I will stand by it for both our sakes.