38

Kelli was alone in the store when she heard the back door open. She was certain she had locked it behind her, so she took a nervous step toward the storeroom. Kenmore walked through the doorway, using his cane but moving pretty well. “What are you doing here?” she asked him immediately.

“Last time I checked I owned this place.” He grinned as he moved toward her.

“I thought you weren’t coming back until Monday.”

“Stopped by the doc’s office and convinced him I was ready.” He paused at the checkout counter. “Actually, I went to his office and told him I wasn’t leaving until he put it in writing that I was good to go.”

Kelli burst out laughing, having no doubt that’s exactly what he’d done. “Well, good for you. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I feel better now—even still sore from the incision and all—than I did for a couple of years before the surgery. I wish I’d done it sooner.” He made a show of looking around. “Don’t you dare tell my son I said that.”

She leaned forward and whispered, “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Speaking of my son, I gather he has made quite a pest of himself since I’ve been away.”

“Let’s just say Shane has your back in a major way.” She rolled her eyes, but then grew serious. “Actually, I think you should be glad to have that.”

“Something you wish you had more of?”

Kelli shrugged. She couldn’t bring herself to make any sort of reply, serious or joking. It hit too close to home.

“I know I’ve asked you this before, but are you really not planning on telling them?” His expression was completely neutral, not accusing, not questioning, just as matter-of-fact as if he’d asked her if she’d swept the floor yet.

Kelli stared at the counter in front of her. It was beige, but there were a couple of places that had worn white over the years. They really needed to think about replacing it soon. She rubbed at an ink spot with her thumb; it didn’t rub out. When she looked up, Kenmore was still watching her, head tilted slightly to the side, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t think I can.”

The front door flew open, and a group of teenagers entered the store and headed for the sodas and candy. Kenmore nodded at Kelli. “Any time you want to talk about it, you know where to find me. You’ll make the right choice, I’m sure of it.”

Later that night, as they were closing up, Kenmore asked her, “Why don’t you plan to make an early evening of it tomorrow? I’ll be back all day, and you’ve more than earned it. We’ll be plenty busy the day after, so you’ll need the rest.”

“Busy on the Fourth of July?”

“Mostly ice and last-minute sodas and such—things that people don’t want to drive back into town for.”

“Makes sense.”

“Speaking of the Fourth of July”—Shane emerged from the back room—“how about I take you both to the high school to watch the fireworks after you close up? It’s supposed to be a really good show this year.”

“Not me,” Kenmore said. “I’m too old for the crowds.”

“How about it, Kelli? It’ll be like Thursday Night Lights times ten.” He paused for just a moment. “Besides, rumor has it that I might need a little protection.”

Kelli looked at him, questioning, for just a second. Then she realized what he meant. “Amy is going to be there?”

Shane shrugged. “A man can’t be too careful these days.”

Kelli giggled like a teenager. “Sounds good.” And it did sound good—and more than a little reckless.

Kenmore sat on his back porch swing, thinking through the events that had happened twenty-four years ago. Should he have stepped in when he saw the trouble brewing? Could he have stopped it? It had never entered his mind that David would dream of doing what he did—not until it was too late.

He thought back to one day in particular. It had been a long day at the office. They had just received a warning that the Fairfield Fund was about to be downgraded to “highly risky.” David had made the comment, “Now, that’s a shame. Fairfield has one of the best-paying commissions in the industry. I just signed up Mrs. Gish for a block of it.”

“Why would you put her in that, anyway? Even before it was downgraded, it was far too aggressive an investment for a seventy-year-old.”

“She’s got more money than she’ll spend in three lifetimes. If she goes aggressive with some of it and she loses, no real harm has been done. If she wins, that just makes it all that much better.”

Kenmore looked over at David, hoping to see some sign on his face that he was joking. He didn’t see any. It seemed that more and more lately he was speaking with a David he didn’t really know. Gone was the best man at his wedding, the most stand-up guy around. In his place was a shifty kind of guy, who didn’t trust anyone anymore and didn’t seem particularly trustworthy himself. He’d made enough remarks about Alison that Kenmore knew he wasn’t happy at home. Fool. Alison was the kind of woman any man should be glad to have as a wife.

“Did you explain the risk to Mrs. Gish? About Fairfield?”

“Of course I did. You know that all of our clients sign a paper that they are aware that investments are not secure.”

“I mean, did you tell her there was even more risk with this particular investment right now?”

David simply looked at Kenmore for a minute, then leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. “I did everything I needed to do. All right?”

Just then his direct line rang. “David Waters.” He looked up at Kenmore. “Do you mind? This is personal.”

Kenmore walked from the room, but not before he overheard David say, “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

That evening Kenmore had called his parents and told them he thought it was time for him to think about returning to work at the store.