KENNICK: A Bad Boy Romance Novel (14 page)

Chapter
Twenty

So so
sorry,
the text read, and Kim’s fingers immediately clutched the
phone harder as her jaw set tight.
Can’t
come to lunch. Buried in this story you got me! Cover for me with Ma?

You’re
kidding, right?
Kim shot back, tapping so angrily on the screen her
thumbs hurt.

=X,
was Ricky’s
only response.

You owe me
so so so hard!
Kim wrote before throwing her phone down and groaning,
her eyes hidden in her palms. She could already see her mother’s raised
eyebrows and pursed lips when Kim arrived alone.

Once a month, Kim and Ricky met their mother for
lunch. Sometimes, they went to Dover, where she lived. Sometimes, they met
halfway. On a very rare occasion, the eldest member of the James family came
down to Kingdom. It made her especially unbearable. She would cluck at the dirt
on Main Street and ask why they couldn’t “go somewhere nice for once” before
answering her own question: “there’s nowhere
nice
in this town anymore.”

Cordelia James was a force to be reckoned with. No one
knew that better than Kim, who as the older daughter, had been privileged to
experience the brunt of her mother’s disappointment. She always thought that
Cordelia had been so worn out by trying to make Kim perfect that she hadn’t had
the energy to deal with Ricky.

Now, she was going to have to sit through their
monthly lunch alone. And Ricky hadn’t exactly given her ample warning; she had
been about to leave the office when the text came in. Now, she sighed and put
the “out to lunch” sign on the door; Mayor Gunderson was taking one of his epic
three-hour lunches, which Kim knew was actually just when he’d go home and try
to sleep off the rest of last night’s fun. He wouldn’t be back for another two
hours.

Mom doesn’t
know that, though,
she told herself, thinking she’d probably drop the
whole gotta-get-back-to-work line. That would make Cordelia mutter about
driving for so long for nothing, but whatever. Kim wasn’t in the mood to deal
with her mother alone.

She should have known that her Mother would have been
early. She was always early. Looking at her watch, Kim saw that she was early,
too. Not early enough. She waved through the window to get her mother’s
attention, which only allowed her to feel the judging stare for a few extra
moments as Cordelia’s eyes followed her around the glass front of Sid’s Diner
and through the door. She was on her feet as Kim approached.

“Hi, Mom,” Kim said, accepting the stiff embrace and
the hard peck on each cheek before taking a seat opposite her. “Ricky can’t
make it. Say she’s swamped with work and very sorry.”

Cordelia scoffed and her eyes fell to the menu, as
though studying it. She would get the same thing she always got, but reading
the menu gave her the chance to remark, sneeringly, at the greasy spoon-style
offerings.

“It’s not enough to carry someone in your womb for
nine months and then raise them practically on your own and put them through
college, I suppose,” she mused. “I suppose
your
sister expects me to be happy she’s got a job that makes her work through
lunch. You know, she’s never going to get anywhere on that dinky little paper.”

The words cut straight to the quick. The emphasis on “
your
sister”. The ability to insult
Ricky
and
Kingdom at the same time.
Cordelia was good.

“Oh, Mom,” Kim said, shaking her head. “You didn’t raise
us on your own.”

“I might as well have,” Cordelia snapped, her eyes
cold on Ricky’s as they left the menu. “Your father was always working. It was
me
that took care of you both all day
long.”

Kim bit her lip. There was a lot she could say –
wanted to say – in response to that. But none of it would ever penetrate
Cordelia’s inflated sense of burden. Tucker James, Kim’s father, had worked a
lot, but it was only to keep his wife happy. He loved his daughters, and made
time for them even when he was working 70 hour weeks at the now-defunct
stained-glass studio. When he’d passed, Cordelia had taken the substantial life
insurance payment to Dover, where, she said, she could live “a real life”, not
surrounded by “depressing small-town bumpkins.”

“How was the drive, Ma?” Kim asked, steering the
conversation away from sore subjects.

“Horrid,” Cordelia responded, her eyes flitting back
to the menu. Her nose scrunched. “What on earth is a tamale doing on this menu?
Is this a Mexican restaurant, Kim? I don’t recall Sid being of the Hispanic
ethnicity. I don’t suppose he’s hired some illegal immigrants to work in the
kitchen, has he?”

“That’s always been on the menu, Mom,” Kim answered.
“You don’t have to be Hispanic to cook tamales.”

“And what in blue blazes is a deep-fried Oreo? My God,
the gluttony of some people…it’s truly enough to make one
sick.
”

When Cordelia’s eyes returned to her daughter,
squinting and examining, Kim’s stomach sank. She knew what was coming next.

“You haven’t been eating those, have you Kimberly?
You’re looking a bit pudgy. You know you can’t eat like your sister or I. You
just don’t have the metabolism. You’ve been running, haven’t you? Hard to
imagine there are any men banging down your door or begging for your hand, not
with that little…what do they call it? Muffin top. Rather a funny term, and
quite
descriptive, don’t you think?”

Kim’s jaw clenched. She didn’t have a damn muffin top.
Do I?
she wondered, second-guessing
herself as her eyes travelled down her own body. The light, flowy sundress she
wore gave no indication of a muffin top.

When she looked back up, her mother’s eyes were stuck
to the menu once more, her head shaking slowly back and forth. Kim begged for a
waitress to come by already. But she was rewarded with quite a different type
of distraction.

Chapter
Twenty-One

Kennick watched Kim’s eyes widen. It made him smile.
He’d been driving by when he saw her. She was unmistakable to him, even
distorted by the glare of a glass window. He guessed the old broad across from
her was her mother. As he approached, she shook her head slightly, but from the
way her mouth was set it was clear she needed rescuing. It had been a week
since she first spent the night in his bed, a week that had flown by in a blur
of quickened heartbeats, long talks in dim lighting, and a growing sense that
the space next to him on his mattress had been waiting for her his whole life.

He also sensed, could almost see, the cracks and
slices in Kim’s heart. Places where someone else’s opinion of her had slithered
in and made itself at home, filled her with doubt and broke her ego. He wanted
to shove his fist right in there and yank that parasite out, fill her heart
with all the beauty and strength he saw when he looked at her. And he had a
sneaking suspicion that the woman he was about to meet had a little something
to do with that parasite.

The old woman turned around to follow Kim’s eyes and
Kennick felt his stomach clench immediately. The woman had blue eyes like
Kim’s, but where Kim was all soft and sweet, this lady might as well have been
made of broken glass.

“Funny seeing you here, babe,” he said, putting on his
best smile as he slid, uninvited, next to Kim. He could feel her agitation
baking off her body in waves and he slipped an arm around her waist, but her
spine only stiffened further. He caught the old woman staring daggers at him
and gave it back as good as he was getting. “Kennick.”

He shoved his hand out across the table, but the woman
eyed it like it was a pair of skid marked tighty-whities.

“Who is this man?” she asked sharply, tearing her gaze
away from the offering hand to shoot her daughter a withering glance.

“This is Kennick,” Kim said, eyes lowered. “He’s a…a
friend.”

Kennick laughed and squeezed his arm around Kim but
didn’t correct her.

“Indeed,” the woman said, eyebrows raised and lips
pursed. “Well, I’m Cordelia. Kimberly’s mother. And we’re having lunch, if you
don’t mind…”

“Oh, I haven’t eaten yet,” Kennick said. “You ordered
already? You know, the tamales here are
fire.
”

She couldn’t help it. The way her mother was looking
like she’d just been given an acid enema, the fact that Kennick was going to
order the very same tamales Cordelia had just been questioning, the way his arm
around her waist made her feel safe despite the increasingly awkward
situation…it was too much not to laugh. A bit high and hysterical, but genuine
all the same. Kennick turned to her with a smile as her mother’s shocked
expression deepened.

“Now, that’s a sound I like hearing,” Kennick said
just as a waitress appeared, looking haggard despite the fact that the
restaurant was mostly empty. Kim knew her, being something of a regular at
Sid’s. Jessica was usually the fastest, perkiest, most affable girl in the
world. Something was clearly up, and normally Kim might have extended an
invitation to talk about it, but she was swimming in enough of her own mire at
the moment.

“What can I get you today?” Jessica asked, barely
looking up from her little ticket book.

“Coke and an order of those gut-killing tamales will
do me,” Kennick said before Cordelia could open her mouth to tell him he wasn’t
invited to eat with them. He gave the old woman a too-big smile. “Order
whatever you like, ma’am. It’s on me.”

Cordelia raised her shoulders, obviously put-off but
too flustered to argue.

“Tilapia, broiled, with a side salad, no dressing” she
said. “And just water to drink.”

Kennick’s eyebrows raised. He’d never heard such a
boring order in his entire life. Then again, the woman was so thin she’d slip
through a crack in a wood floor. She had given Kim her bold blue eyes, but not
her soft, sensual body. Kennick could only be glad for that.

“Ceasar salad for me, Jessica,” Kim said. “And a Diet
Coke would be great.”

“And bring some extra parmesan,” Kennick said, smiling
at Kim.

“You’re going to put parmesan cheese on tamales?”
Cordelia asked. To her, Kennick Volanis was a non-stop train of awful.

“No, it’s Kim’s favorite,” Kennick said. “I’ve seen
her coat a pizza with so much cheese it was like a snow day.”

“I know,” Cordelia said, her lips pursing again as her
eyebrow lowered. “We used to have to take the cheese away from her when we had
pasta. It was disgusting.”

Kennick laughed, bright and loud.

“Nah,” he said. “I like it. It’s cute.”

Cordelia was nearly shaking with irritation. She
didn’t like most people, and Kim knew that Kennick must be some sort of
nightmarish figure in her mother’s eyes. From the public affection of putting
his arm around her to his tattooed skin and loose, casual clothes to his
exotic, tanned skin, he was the sort of man Cordelia would cross the street to
avoid in the middle of the day. Somewhere deep down, Kim was happier than she
could ever remember being around her mother.

“Well, as long as
you
like it, I suppose there’s no argument to be made! Kim, who
is
this man and
why
is he ruining our lunch date?” Cordelia’s sense of decorum had
fallen to her sense of indignation.

“Kennick Volanis,” Kim responded tersely. “He’s a
friend. A…a
close
and
intimate
friend, mother.”

Now, it was Cordelia’s turn to clench her jaw shut,
her eyes widening as she realized what Kim was telling her. Kim could almost
see the facts falling into place behind her mother’s cold eyes.
Close. Intimate. Friend.

“Volanis?” Cordelia said, voice low and gruff. Kim
felt Kennick stiffen slightly beside her. “That name seems familiar.”

“Doesn’t matter, Mom. Kennick, thank you for
joining….”

“I know that name,” Cordelia said, a small smirk now
spreading across her face. An awful sort of smile. “Your father was Pieter
Volanis. You’re one of those gypsies.”

“Bingo,” Kennick said, meeting her smirk with one of
his own. The animosity between them could have sparked a fire in the diner.
When Jessica came by with the drinks, Kim saw her nearly turn on her heel and
run away from the scene unfolding.

“Were you aware of that, Kimberly?” Cordelia said,
turning back to her daughter.

“I was,” Kim said, taking a sip of her soda and
shrugging. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Cordelia hissed, leaning in as
though Kennick weren’t there at all. “This is…this is…ugh! Excuse me!”

Trembling and clattering across the tile floor in her
kitten heels, Cordelia James slammed her way into the lady’s room, at which
point Kim released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Turning to
Kennick, she wanted to apologize – but couldn’t imagine how she would ever be
able to apologize enough for her mother.

“Don’t,” Kennick said, reading her mind. “You should
go talk to her.”

“Go talk to her?” Kim asked, taken aback. “Are you
kidding me? If we’re in private together, I’ll just end up slapping her across
the face!”

“She’s your mother,” Kennick said, eyes softening.
“She’s worried about you.”

“No, she’s not,” Kim said, mumbling now. “She’s
worried about what people will
think
about
me. That’s all she’s ever worried about.”

“You don’t have to,” Kennick said with a sigh. “But
you
should.
Family is all you have,
sometimes. Even very shitty family.”

Kim bit her lip, considering this. She supposed her mother
wasn’t entirely to blame for the outburst; after all, it must have been quite
the shock to take in all at once. Maybe she could get Cordelia to calm down
enough to come out and finish the lunch in some semblance of peace.

“How are you so good?” Kim marveled as she stood and
Kennick turned to let her out of the booth. He smiled up at her.

“Just born that way, baby,” he said, and when he gave
her ass a tiny pinch as she squeezed past him, she wasn’t sure whether to turn
around and slap him or kiss him. She settled on neither, steeling herself for
whatever her mother was about to dish out.