Knockout (32 page)

“Your compass,” he commented appreciatively when he saw it. “I like it.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to call the place?”

I shrugged, bringing my beer to my lips. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

I grinned. “I may have an idea.”

“Not one you’re going to share?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Mysterious. I like it.”

“Well, you’re not the only one who can keep secrets.”

He glanced at me sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you play it all very close to the chest, Kellen Coulter. I’m lucky to know the things about you that I do. In fact, I don’t even know your middle name. That’s how mysterious your ass is.”

He chuckled, relaxing. “It’s Riley.”

“Riley,” I said, trying it out. “I like it.”

“You can have it.”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“No one else knows it is all. It’s one of my secrets. Now it’s yours.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that so I shoved a hotdog in my mouth to fill the empty silence. I was chewing, contemplating all the secrets that weren’t mine and may never be and what that meant for my world, when my phone blew up.

Kellen glanced at it where it sat on the picnic table between us. “It’s Amanda.”

“Anfer it!” I cried, my mouth still stuffed with questionable meats.

“Hello?... Yeah, it’s Kellen… Okay… That’s good. No it’s great… Yes. All of it to the address I gave you… I’ll see it’s taken care of… Thank you, Amanda.”

He put my phone down just as I was choking down my food.

“Well?” I asked impatiently.

He grinned. “You got it.”

“I got it!” I screamed. I lunged at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my body against his as hard as I could. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He laughed, holding me gently, his heat unable to reach me through his thick coat that I still wore. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because I never would have done this without you.” I pulled back, my hands resting on his shoulders, my face beaming with a smile so wide it ached. “I’m probably going to fail horribly, but at least I tried and I wouldn’t have tried if it weren’t for you. So thank you, Kellen Riley Coulter. You are my champion.”

He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear gently, his eyes going to that shallow place where they looked worried and insecure.

“Well, Jenna Marie Monroe,” he said quietly, “you are worth fighting for.”

“I want to propose a toast!” Sam exclaimed, standing on top of the random folding chair sitting in the center of the empty shop. Well, empty except for the seven other people standing in it. “To my best friend, Jenna. You’re living proof that anything can be accomplished if you set your mind to it.”

“And if your daddy has deep pockets,” Bryce chimed in, winking at me.

I grinned wickedly. “It definitely doesn’t hurt.”

“Anyway,” Sam interrupted us, “I wanted to say congratulations on your shop. May you have success, happiness, love—“

“And may your first child be a masculine child.”

“Dammit, Bryce!”

“To Jenna,” Carter jumped in, raising his red Solo cup high in the air.

“To Jenna!” everyone agreed, doing the same.

Sam glared at Bryce as Carter, a tall, blond surfer boy if I ever saw one, swept her down off her chair. My mom brought out a cake from the back room. It was a huge round sugary monstrosity with the store logo screen printed on the surface. A distressed compass rose with the words
North Star Ink
scrawled across it in a beautiful, deep purple.

My mom was being surprisingly supportive of the whole owning my own business idea. Even after the fight we had where I told her I was cutting back on school and only going part time. That got ugly. I wasn’t quitting. In fact, I was taking business classes in addition to art, but this was what I wanted to do with my life. I already had four years of experience from Bryce’s shop. I was ready for this. Eventually she gave up and agreed. It wasn’t great, but it was more than I expected.

Mom made Sam and I stand behind the cake for pictures. Then more pictures were taken. Me, mom and dad together. Sam with us. Just Bryce and I. Sam, Bryce and I. I was flash blind by the end of it and my cheeks ached from smiling, but every last one of them was genuine. This was real. This was all mine. It was on me if it failed but it was all me if it succeeded too and as I looked around that beautiful broken down building with my family and friends getting buzzed off cheap champagne, I couldn’t help but feel proud. And hopeful.

The only blemish on
the perfect day were two missing faces.

“Congratulations, kiddo,” dad said, pulling me into a side hug.

“Thanks, dad. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You didn’t need any of us. This is all you.”

“No,” I disagreed firmly. “I wouldn’t have had the resources or guts to do it without you guys. Especially Kellen.”

Dad frowned slightly. “Why isn’t he here today?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging and trying to keep my tone light. “I sent him an invite but he never responded. I guess he was busy. Mom said he’s why Laney isn’t here.”

“She didn’t want to see him. She’s been avoiding him.”

“Lot of that going around,” I muttered.

It had been three weeks since I last saw Kellen. It seemed like the silence of the last couple months was broken because I got phone calls now and then, the odd text still came through every few days, but I didn’t see him at all. And we still hadn’t talked about ‘it’ or ‘us’ or whatever it was that felt like a looming question mark between us. I wanted an absolution but I wasn’t sure I’d want the one I was going to get. Either way, I waited because I’m patient as anything and I promised him I would. And I never go back on my promises.

Dad looked at me sideways. “You guys okay?”

I laughed shortly, nervously. “No. Not really. But I don’t know what to do about it so I’m doing nothing. I guess I’m waiting.”

“Are you waiting or are you avoiding?”

“Both? But even if I am, so is he.”

“Hmm. He’s a tough one.”

“Have you been talking to him?”

Dad nodded silently.

“Did he take the fireman’s exam?”

“He told you about that?”

“Once forever ago. I haven’t heard anything since.”

“He passed.”

“He did?” I exclaimed excitedly.

Dad smiled at me. “Yeah. He failed a couple times, most people do, but just last week he passed. He’s looking for a job now. He’s got a lot of stuff in the works.”

“Like what?”

He gave me a long, pensive look before pulling me into a hug again. “Keep waiting. Be patient. You’ll see.”

***

Two weeks later I got a text message from Kellen. It was another address, only this one came with a date and time. I was to be at a random business complex in four days at 2pm. He wasn’t asking so I didn’t answer.

I was nervous when I pulled up. I’d been nervous for four days. I hadn’t known what I was walking into so I was stressing about what I was wearing. I’d finally settled on casual; same jeans and tanks I wore to work every day. At least I wasn’t in vinyl underwear this time.

As I got out, I scanned the small business complex, checking out the names on all of the marquees. Dentist, orthopedic surgeon, therapist, tax office, cash advance joint. I was at a loss. Were we here to brighten my smile? Talk taxes regarding the store? The idea of accounts and taxes and math and numbers made me suddenly sick inside. I worried I’d vomit in the parking lot.

“Jenna,” Kellen called.

I turned to my right, surprised. I had been looking for his motorcycle but it was nowhere to be found. Instead, he stepped out of a large black truck parked a couple spots away. I opened my mouth to comment on it, to tell him I liked his new ride, when he shut the door and my eyes landed on the side panel. There was a large decal. A compass rose covered in brilliant purple lettering.

North Star Ink
.

“I…” I tried, but I failed to finish the thought. I don’t even know if I started it properly.

“What do you think?” he asked, flipping his keys in his hands. He grinned as he strode toward me, his eyes bright.

“About the truck or the free advertising?” I asked, laughing slightly.

“Truck first, advertising second.”

“Hot and thank you. That’s unbelievable. I can’t believe you allowed purple on your car.”

“If your logo had been hot pink it’d be another story. That purple I can handle.”

“What happened to the bike?”

“It’s still around. I garaged it for now. This made more sense at the moment.”

I clenched my hands nervously. “I heard you’re on the job hunt. Congrats on passing the exam.”

His smile faded slightly. “Your dad told you?”

“Yeah. Should he not have?”

“It’s fine. I was going to tell you when I had a job lined up.”

I smiled sadly. “Used to be you would have told me the hour it happened.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said quietly, looking down at his keys in his hands. “But I… I have things I’ve been lining up. Things that… things you need to know about. Things I want you to know, but I haven’t… I know I’ve been distant. It’s not what you think, though. I have to… Fuck.”

“Kel, it’s okay.”

He looked up at me, his eyes frustrated. “It’s not. Not yet. But it will be, I swear.”

“I trust you,” I whispered.

“Still?”

“Always.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his face unreadable, then he quickly pulled me to him. His arms wrapped around me gently, loosely hugging me the way he would have five years ago when all we knew was the bond we felt between us and the comfort of finding a place to call home. I hugged him back feeling like I’d walked a thousand miles to get to this moment. I was exhausted and relieved because whatever was left between us, it was still good. It was still strong and even if it wasn’t what we had planned, it was perfect because it was what we needed.

“So,” I said lightly when he released me. “Why am I here? Am I learning about tax shelters for my millions? Can I get a Swiss bank account?”

His brow pinched in confusion. I pointed to the logo over the office closest to us. It was for the tax office.

“You can if you want, but that’s not why we’re here,” he said, leading me farther down.

“Okay. Then why?”

He stopped in front of a door, opening it for me. I could read the now backwards lettering through the glass panel in the door.

Benjamin Phillips, PhD

Family Therapy

I glanced sideways at Kellen as we walked into the small lobby. There was a massive potted plant that looked too pretty to be real that I absolutely wanted to touch, but being in a therapists office I worried it was a test of some kind. Paranoid? Yeah, but I wasn’t about to touch that damn plant. There was a woman in her forties behind the counter who smiled when she saw Kellen, clearly recognizing him.

“He’s waiting for you now,” she said, gesturing to the solid unmarked door to our right.

I glanced around at the rest of the waiting room, noting the empty brown chairs and scattering of magazines. It was pretty standard and it felt normal, which felt weird. I was beginning to think I didn’t totally understand therapy.

Kellen surprised me when he took my hand to lead me through the door. He obviously knew where he was going as we strode down a short hallway and pushed through a cracked door on the right.

We entered a small office that was surprisingly dark. I held Kellen’s hand a little tighter, causing him to give mine a reassuring squeeze in return.

“Kellen, right on time. And I see you have Jenna with you. Excellent.”

An older man with a mess of white hair and a warm smile approached me, hand outstretched. I released Kellen to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“You as well. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Phillips. You can call me Ben if you prefer.”

“I don’t know yet,” I said awkwardly. How I addressed him kind of depended on what exactly was happening here.

“What has Kellen told you about our process? About what he has planned for tonight’s session?”

I glanced at Kellen helplessly. “I have no idea what’s happening. I’m getting that you’ve started therapy?”

He nodded, watching me silently.

“Okay. That’s good. Right?”

“I hope so,” he said, his voice low.

“It’s wonderful,” Dr. Phillips interjected. “It’s the first step down a long road but we’ve already been making progress.”