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Kenna
Time flowed through my fingers like salt water during my frequent late-night swims. Liz had to go back to San Francisco, tears in her eyes and a firm vow to move here with me the moment I said the word. As soon as I made the decision to live here beyond the year that Maeve had stipulated in her will. The moment I gained the courage to open my own publishing house for children’s books. Just the thought of it made my heart pound, not in fear, but in that sense of finally being alive.
Mom stayed, blending into my life in a way that was not only tolerable, but healing. Daniel kept Mom out of my hair when I was working, somehow also putting a steady smile on her face that had been missing for years. She was less manic here in Florida. Not only were the crazy ups more regulated, but she rarely pitched down into the abyss either. Perhaps it was the steady roof over her head or the influence of Daniel. Either way, I was grateful for it.
Progress on the house had slowed since Liam started back to football practices with the approach of the new school year. Dec helped me when I needed strong muscles, but he was also busy getting the boat club ready for the busy season and he’d gone back to fishing every morning before I was even awake for the day. The house was still tarped off in areas as I slowly painted, tiled, and wallpapered my way through the sprawling house. Personal items were kept safe in closets so as to not be covered in paint droplets or drywall dust. The house still didn’t quite feel like mine yet, but I supposed it would once the renovation was done and all my knickknacks were in place.
Speaking of knickknacks, Justin had cooperated when Mel sent word that I wanted my personal items shipped to Florida. My favorite mugs, the book collection of first prints, and even a box of old photographs was now in my possession. It wasn’t everything, by any means, but it was a start. Mel and Justin’s lawyers still had to work on splitting the assets gained during our marriage, but with each passing week, I inched closer to officially being a free woman. Justin had reached out several times on my cell phone, requesting to talk, but I always referred him to Mel with a simple text. I had nothing to say to the man. I may not have been spitting nails over his betrayal any longer, but I still had no desire to speak to him.
Everything was coming along nicely.
Except for Dec.
He’d retreated from me. We were still friends who shared the events of our day and even a few stolen kisses here and there, but we hadn’t spent the night together since that first time. He held my hand in front of our parents and everyone in town, but we hadn’t defined what we were. He’d closed me out at some point this summer, keeping me at a distance like he did everyone else. I hated it.
I’d been so passive with Justin, allowing him to run our marriage however he chose, a small girl just wanting the big man on campus to love her back. I would not be that way again. So when all the cajoling in the world didn’t get Dec to open up to me, I accepted that we could only be friends. And that really sucked because the man was unfairly handsome and my body had some sort of inner sensor that flipped straight to hot and bothered anytime he was around. Sometimes when he wasn’t around.
“Kenna, honey?” Mom yelled from upstairs.
“Yeah?” I was on my hands and knees, sticky white goop all over my body as I placed another decorative tile around the fireplace. I’d already installed a stained dark wood mantel that matched the stairs and nailed in shiny white trim that made the fireplace a work of art. These hand-painted Italian tiles would bring my dream fireplace to life.
Mom slipped down the stairs and clapped her hands when she saw my work. “Kenna! It’s gorgeous!”
“Thanks,” I muttered, pressing the tile into the goop and praying it stayed. I couldn’t tell you how many hours of YouTube I’d watched over the summer, providing me with just enough renovation skills to get myself in trouble.
“Do you think we should pull in the deck chairs?” Mom asked.
I looked up, holding my hands in the air like I fancied myself a surgeon. Mostly it was because I’d already swiped hair out of my face earlier and sported a white streak across my forehead. I couldn’t afford anymore accidental swipes or I might blind myself.
“Huh?”
Mom’s hands were moving so fast I could barely focus on what she was saying. “The storm, Kenna! They say it might be a bad one!”
I glanced around her, now noticing the dark skies beyond the glass slider. The palm tree between my property and Dec’s was already whipping in the wind. My heart began to pound. I knew Florida got hurricanes, of course, but I’d been so busy between the club and the renovation, I hadn’t been watching the news.
Putting down the next tile and the tub of thinset, I ran to the door, nose pressed against it. Shit. That didn’t look good. The sky was dark, but there was also an eerie purple tone to it.
I spun back to Mom. “Pull in all the garden items and I’ll wash my hands and get the chairs. Anything that can blow away needs to be pulled inside.”
We both darted into action, doing what we needed to do to secure the outside. We were still struggling with the metal table when I heard Dec call from the front door.
“Kenna?”
“We’re in the back!”
He stalked through the living room like a man on a mission, his jeans plastered to his body and muscles bulging from beneath the Salt Life T-shirt. Daniel followed at a slower pace behind him, concern etched across his face.
“I’ve got it, Mona,” Dec murmured, taking her end of the table and lifting it into the living room with very little help from me. He closed the door and locked it, turning to survey the house. “All the windows and doors closed and locked?”
I nodded. I knew the windows and doors were all hurricane rated because Dec had told me at the beginning of the summer that Maeve had at least made those necessary renovations. My brain was already in its own whirlwind, trying to think of all the things I needed to do to prepare. I was a girl raised in California. Preparation for earthquakes was nonexistent and certainly didn’t have much crossover with a possible hurricane. Daniel put his arm around Mom, who was at the whimpering stage of her theatrics. Then I gasped.
“The boats!”
Dec put his hand up. “I was just down at the docks helping Johnny do whatever we could to save the boats if it gets rough.”
My eyes were so wide the air-conditioning was drying them out. “Now what, then?”
Dec shrugged, but the lines around his eyes told me he wasn’t as nonchalant as he was pretending to be. “We hunker down and wait it out. Mind if we stay here?” His gaze flashed to our parents who were already in their own little world together.
