Catch a Falling Star (27 page)

Kendall's words of reassurance remained unspoken. Was loving someone, despite his rejection, enough to make a relationship work? When it came to her failed romances, no. And how she felt about Griffin Walker—whatever it was she felt for the man—couldn't get past the barrier the man erected between them. Sure, he'd kissed her, but only after telling her that he had no intention of kissing her again. Figuring things out had to be different when it came to a mother loving a child.

“Javan loves Logan. He's fine when I'm here at work and it's just the two of them. But the minute I come home, Javan's awful. He hates me.” Evie shook her head, whipping her long ponytail back and forth. “I never thought he'd hate me.”

“But surely things will get better . . . Maybe if you see a family counselor?”

Oh, how Kendall wanted to mention how her faith comforted her when life broke her heart. But after working with
Evie for five years, she knew that talking about God meant being ready with an answer. And Evie wasn't asking any questions. Yet.

“Things are going from bad to worse—” Evie leaned into Kendall's embrace, her rigid stance relaxing, her whisper scraping across Kendall's heart. “I remember when I was a little girl, how I wanted ballet lessons for my tenth birthday. I sat by my bedroom window every night for weeks, wishing upon stars. I'd pick one star, then another, then another. ‘Wish I may, wish I might,' you know? One night, I saw this yellow light streak across the sky. I thought it was a sign . . . a yes.”

“What happened?”

“No dance lessons.” A bite of regret tainted Evie's laugh. “It was a silly idea. With five kids and my papá's job barely keeping food on the table, my parents couldn't afford dance lessons for me. When I told my mamá what I'd seen, she explained it was a falling star. I stopped making wishes after that. It was foolish of me to think I could ever be a ballet dancer. And then all those years . . . trying to have a baby . . . and failing. When Javan came along, I started hoping again. But being a mamá is not in the stars for me either. I've tried to force it.”

Musical notes from Evie's cell phone interrupted her. She pulled it from her scrub pant pocket, taking a step away from Kendall.

“Yes? Yes, I'm done at work. I'm just running a bit late. There's no need to be so short with me, Logan. I work outside the home, remember? Do you need me to pick up anything? Fine. I'm leaving now.”

Facing Kendall again, she tucked the phone away, shrugging. A smile wobbled on her lips. “Logan, wondering where I was. I-I'll go grab the package.”

“If you ever want to talk about things . . . about Javan—”

“It'll be fine, Kendall. We'll figure it out. Adoption might not be the right thing for us.”

Kendall checked the cinnamon streusel Bundt cake in the oven. A blast of hot air wafted from the oven across her face as she bent to test the cake with a toothpick. Almost done, but not quite. And so far she hadn't burned it. She fared better in a chemistry lab than in a kitchen, but Rachel's recipe was foolproof—or so she'd said. Kendall thought something homemade would be nicer than a pre-packaged dessert. And she might as well admit that, yes, she wanted to impress Heath.

Evie's words still lingered in Kendall's mind. Her receptionist was more than an employee, she was a friend. Not a let's-go-have-some-Guac-Live kind of friend, but they still talked about personal things. Sometimes. Then there were the days the office was so busy they barely had time to say hello to each other. But one thing Kendall knew for certain: Evie ached to be a mom. For the past year, she kept everyone in the office regularly updated about Javan's adoption. The situation couldn't be so bad that she'd back out now.

Sully circled her legs, whining and nudging her toward the door.

“Sorry, Sully. We're not going for a walk now.”

She noted the time on the oven clock. Just after eight. Hmm. Heath should be done by now. He said he had two quick physicals to do for his friends and then he looked forward to spending time with her. Warmth tingled across her neck and face when she remembered the kiss that accompanied his words. The man certainly knew how to say hello—and to let her know he'd missed seeing her.

But, as she told Evie, she was old enough to take care of herself. She could resist temptation in the form of Heath Parker. Not that she had a whole lot of experience resisting temptation. The last few years had been more about work than romance. And growing up? She didn't even need to try to maintain her reputation—much less her purity. After the embarrassment at her homecoming dance, no guy wanted to ask her out.

She wandered back to her bedroom, all the way to the farthest corner of her walk-in closet. Hidden behind the few fancier dresses she owned—bought out of necessity for residency celebrations that she attended solo—was her first-ever little black dress. Truth was, she could probably still fit into it. Some women would be proud to say they wore the same size they had in high school. But really, what woman wanted to be in her thirties and still shopping in the juniors' department?

Kendall pulled the covering off the dress, the thin film of plastic clinging to her hands, creating static in the dry air. She held the dress up against her body, turning to the right and to the left. After all these years, the tiny sparkles woven in the black material still glinted when she held it up to the light. Wearing this dress, with its thin spaghetti straps and feminine sweep of fabric just to her knees, had made her sixteen-year-old self feel so grown up, especially when she'd slipped on the pair of black three-inch heels.

“You look stunning, Ken.” Her father stood behind her as she faced the mirror over her dresser, his hands on her shoulders. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Kendall closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of grease and oil and sweat from the auto repair shop that always clung to her father's clothes. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“So, who's this boy that's picking you up? He didn't even come over and ask permission to take you to the dance.”

Kendall positioned a silver bobby pin with a tiny floral rhinestone in her hair, hoping it would make her look more feminine, despite how short her cut was. “He's not my boyfriend. We're just going to homecoming. His name's Phillip and he's a junior, like me. You'll meet him when he comes to pick me up.”

She stepped back, wishing she had a full-length mirror so she could see the overall effect of her hair, her dress, her shoes. Maybe when Phillip saw her tonight he would have the same look of approval in his eyes that her dad did. Maybe they would go from “just friends” to something more. He asked her to homecoming—that had to mean something.

Kendall discovered exactly what Phillip's invitation meant when he arrived at her house. They were double-dating with his best friend, Brian, and his girlfriend, Heather. From the minute she got into the car until she insisted Phillip bring her home early from the dance, she watched Heather flirt with both Brian—and Phillip. For a teenager, the girl certainly knew how to play one guy against the other.

At the high school gym, decorated in the school colors of white and green, Phillip danced with her one time, all the while watching Heather dance with Brian. Then he deserted her to go try to separate his best friend from his date.

Kendall retreated to the girls' bathroom—and that's where Heather found her. Heather wore her hair in long, loose curls over her shoulders. She opted for an icy blue dress that matched her eyes and shimmered against her long torso and legs. It was easy to forget Heather was the sophomore and Kendall was the junior.

“Having fun?” Heather leaned into the mirror, checking her makeup.

“Sure.” Kendall could only hope the other girl couldn't tell she'd been crying.

“Well, you can thank me for arranging it for you.”

“What do you mean? Phillip asked me to the dance.” Although Kendall couldn't figure out why now.

“He asked you to the dance because I told him to.”

“That's a mean thing to say.” Kendall moved toward the exit, but Heather blocked the way.

“It's the truth. He likes me, but I'm dating his best friend—at least for now. So I told him if he came to homecoming with someone else we could still have a chance to dance together.” The girl's arctic-blue eyes dismissed Kendall. “But just about everyone else was already asked to the dance, so he decided to ask you.”

“You're lying.” Kendall shoved past her, yanking the bathroom door open.

“Who is he dancing with? You or me?” Heather's taunt followed her out into the gymnasium.

The faint scent of cinnamon pulled Kendall from the memory. She had watched Phillip that night. He jockeyed for position with his best friend, dancing every dance he could with Brian's date. Kendall stood in the corner, wishing she were truly invisible instead of just feeling that way. She finally demanded that Brian take her home. When her father asked her why she was home before eleven, she told him she had a migraine. It was the only time she ever lied to him.

Kendall slipped the dress back behind the other dresses, hiding it from view. Why did she even keep it?

Exiting the closet, Kendall noticed the aroma of cinnamon grew stronger, tinged with the smell of something burning. Her cake!

An acrid billow of smoke rolled out of the oven when she opened it. Why oh why had she gotten lost back in high school? Turning off the oven, she slammed the door shut. Best to leave the ruined cake in there. Heath would have to settle for coffee.

Where was he? He should be finished with two physicals by now.

Was he having problems shutting down the computer system? Kendall slipped on a pair of teal ballet flats, deciding to go downstairs. Wait. He wasn't planning on accessing medical records. He said that he would do a simple history and physical, using paper documents. Although he expressed admiration for Kendall's electronic medical records system when he found her working on patient notes. Despite Kendall's assuring him the system was easy to work—even showing him the first few steps—Heath insisted plain old paper and pen were fine for him.

The lights in the office were dimmed, the area quiet. As she walked down the hallway toward one of the back exam rooms, she heard Heath's voice.

“Kupu has proven to be extremely helpful in building up immunity. I was very pleased by my preliminary tests and have no reservations about recommending that you use the minimum daily dosage.” He stepped out of the room as he spoke with a middle-aged man and woman. Must be his friends who were just back from the mission field.

Seeing her, Heath stopped short, before his welcoming wide grin spread across his face. “Dr. Haynes. I didn't know you'd come back into your office.”

Dr. Haynes?
Well, he was seeing patients, after all. It was probably best to maintain a professional demeanor.

“Dr. Parker. I just wanted to make certain you had everything you needed.” She held out her hand to the two other people waiting beside Heath. “Hello, I'm Dr. Kendall Haynes.”

“And these are the Bensons. I kept them much too long tonight.” He moved the couple toward the front of the office.

“Oh.” Kendall stepped aside. “Sure. Well, the door will automatically lock behind them.”

“Right. I remember you saying that.” Heath tossed a grin over his shoulder. “Be right back. I'll walk them out.”

Kendall watched Heath escort his friends to the front door. Well, that was a bit . . . abrupt. But then, it was later than she'd expected. And really, there was no reason for Kendall to be introduced to the Bensons. It wasn't like she'd meet them again.

After ensuring that the door was locked, Heath came back and enveloped her in a warm hug.

“I'm sorry I kept you waiting.” He groaned. “You know how some people talk and talk and talk.”

Kendall leaned back to look at Heath. “So you knew the Bensons on the mission field?”

“Yes. I knew them when I was over in Africa.” Heath pulled her close, nuzzling her neck. “You smell delicious.”

“Oh, that. Well . . .” Kendall bit her bottom lip. Time to confess. “I was hoping to invite you to share some coffee and cinnamon streusel Bundt cake after we took Sully for a walk.”

“But?” He linked his fingers through hers as they walked up the stairs to her loft.

“I got sidetracked and the cake got, um, singed. Sorry. I can still offer you coffee.”

“Coffee it is then.” He paused outside her door. “I'm sorry things ran so long. I hate to keep a beautiful woman waiting. Wow. That sounds so clichéd.”

“I don't mind a cliché every now and then.”

He traced the outline of her face. “Believe me, Kendall, you are anything but typical. I am so glad I found you.”