Reminders of Him: A Novel
Reminders of Him: Chapter 22

Kenna is supposed to show up any minute. Roman has been off since the night I hired her, so I haven’t had a chance to warn him. But I’ve been debating on changing my mind about hiring her since the second I made up my mind.

Roman just arrived, and Kenna said she’d be here around four thirty, so now is probably a good time to bring it up to him so he’s not blindsided.

I’m slicing up limes and oranges to make sure we have enough garnishes for the night. Roman hasn’t even made it behind the bar yet when I say, “I fucked up.” I meant to say, “I hired Kenna,” but I feel like they both have the same meaning.

Roman eyes me suspiciously.

I can’t have this conversation while I’m slicing fruit, so I put the knife down before I hack off a finger. “I hired Kenna. Part time, but no one can know who she is. Call her Nicole in front of the other employees.” I pick up the knife again because I’d rather look at the limes than at the expression Roman is giving me right now.

“Um. Wow. Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

I hear his keys and his phone as he drops them on the bar and then scoots out a stool. “Good thing we both work until midnight. Start talking.”

I walk to the edge of the bar and glance back into the kitchen to make sure we’re still alone. No one else has arrived yet, so I give him a quick rundown of what happened in the grocery store parking lot, and how I showed her videos of Diem and then took her for burgers and somehow ended up feeling sorry for her and offered her a job to help her get out of town.

I get the whole story out, and the whole time, he’s completely silent.

“I asked her to stay in the back, away from the customers,” I say. “I can’t risk Grace or Patrick replaceing out she works here. I’m not worried about them showing up; they never come here. But I’d still like her to stay in the back. She can do the dishes and help Aaron.”

Roman laughs. “So, you essentially hired a barback who can back but not bar?”

“There’s plenty to do back there to keep her busy.”

I hear Roman swipe his phone and his keys off the bar. Right before he disappears through the double doors to the kitchen, he says, “I don’t want to hear another word about the fucking cupcakes ever again.”

He’s gone before I can point out that his being obsessed with the married baker down the street is a little different than my giving Kenna a job to get her out of town faster.

The doors to the back swing open a couple of minutes later, and Roman says, “Your new hire just arrived.”

When I make it to the kitchen, Kenna is standing by the alley door holding her tote, gripping her wrist with the opposite hand. She looks nervous, but different. She’s got lip gloss on or something. I don’t know, but her mouth is all I can seem to focus on, so I clear my throat and look away from her and casually say, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she says.

I point to a closet where the employees keep their stuff while on shift. “You can put your bag in there.”

I grab her an apron and keep it as professional as I can. “I’ll give you a quick tour.” She follows me quietly as I show her around the kitchen. I explain the process of how to stack the dishes once she washes them. I give her a brief tour of our stock room. I show her where my office is. I take her out to the alley to show her which dumpster is ours.

We’re making our way back to the alley door when Aaron walks up. He pauses when he sees me standing in the alley with Kenna.

“Aaron, this is Nicole. She’ll be helping you out in the kitchen.”

Aaron narrows his eyes, looking Kenna up and down. “Do I need help in the kitchen?” he asks, confused.

I look at Kenna. “We have a limited menu of food on the weekends, but Aaron takes care of all of it. Just be available if he needs the help.”

Kenna nods and reaches out a hand to Aaron. “Nice to meet you,” she says. Aaron returns the handshake, but he’s still eyeing me suspiciously.

I look at her and point at the door, letting her know I want a minute with Aaron. Kenna nods and slips back inside. I give my focus to Aaron. “She’ll only be here a few weeks at the most. She needed a favor.”

Aaron holds up a hand. “Enough said, boss.” He squeezes my shoulder as he passes me and heads inside.

I’ve shown Kenna everything I need to show her to keep her busy for one night. And she has Aaron now. He’ll take care of her.

I don’t want to walk through the back and have to look at her again, so I make my way through the front door. Razi and Roman are covering most of tonight because I have to leave. I didn’t take into consideration when I hired Kenna and told her to show up tonight that I already had plans and wouldn’t even be here for most of her shift.

“I’ll be back around nine,” I tell Roman. “I’m going to dinner with them after the recital.”

Roman nods. “Mary Anne asks questions,” he says. “She’s been wanting us to hire her nephew as a barback. This isn’t going to sit well with her.”

“Just tell Mary Anne that Kenna is . . . Nicole is temporary. That’s all she needs to know.”

Roman shakes his head. “You didn’t really think this one through, Ledger.”

“I thought about it plenty.”

“Maybe, but you thought about it with the wrong fucking head.”

I ignore his observation and leave.

Diem decided she wanted to try a dance class a few months ago. Grace says it’s because her best friend takes dance, and it’s not because Diem actually likes dance.

After seeing her recital tonight, it’s clear dancing isn’t her passion. She was all over the place. I’m not even sure she’s paid one second of attention in dance class, because while all the other kids were at least attempting the routine, Diem was running back and forth on the stage recreating moves from her favorite movie, The Greatest Showman.

The entire audience was laughing. Grace and Patrick were mortified but were trying not to laugh. At one point, Grace leaned over and whispered, “Make sure she never watches that movie again.”

I was filming it, of course.

The whole time I was filming Diem, I had this underlying sense of anticipation at the thought of showing Kenna. But Diem’s moments aren’t mine to share. I need to remember that, no matter how good it felt on the side of the road to see Kenna finally get a glimpse of Diem a few days ago.

Patrick and Grace legally make all decisions for Diem, and rightfully so. If I found out someone close to me was sharing information about Diem after clearly knowing I asked them not to, I’d be more than livid. And I’d immediately cut that person out of my life.

I can’t take that chance with Patrick and Grace. I’m already doing enough behind their backs by just giving Kenna this job.

“I don’t think I want to take dance anymore,” Diem says. She’s still wearing her purple leotard, but there’s queso dripping down the front of it now. I wipe it off her because she’s on the same side of the booth as me.

“You can’t quit dance yet,” Grace says. “We’ve already paid for three more months.”

Diem likes to try new things. I don’t look at her willingness to quit all the things she tries as a negative personality trait. I think it’s a strength that she wants to try every sport she can.

“I want to do that thing with the swords,” Diem says, swinging her fork back and forth in the air.

“Fencing?” Patrick asks. “They don’t have fencing lessons in this town.”

“Ledger can teach me,” Diem says.

“I don’t have swords. And I don’t have time. I already coach your T-ball team.”

“T-ball is hell,” Diem says.

I choke on my laugh.

“Don’t say that,” Grace whispers.

“That’s what Roman said,” Diem retorts. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

The bathrooms are within view of our seats, so Diem slides under the table and scoots out of the booth. Grace keeps a close eye on her as she walks to the bathroom door. It’s a single-stall bathroom that Diem can lock behind her, which is the only reason Grace isn’t following her.

Grace usually accompanies Diem to the restroom, but Diem has been demanding her independence lately. She makes Grace wait outside the bathroom now, and when we come to this restaurant, we always ask to be seated near the bathroom hallway so Grace can allow Diem the space to do things on her own while still keeping a close eye on her.

When Patrick starts to speak, I can tell half of Grace’s attention is still on the bathroom door. “We filed a restraining order against Diem’s mother.”

I hold back my reaction, but it’s hard. I swallow those words with my bite of food and then take a sip of water. “Why?”

“We want to be prepared for whatever she decides to do,” Patrick says.

“But what would she try to do?” I can tell by the way Grace cocks her head that maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But would a judge even grant a restraining order simply because it’s filed? I figure it would take more than Kenna’s presence for a restraining order to be approved.

Grace says, “She chased us down in the grocery store parking lot. I don’t feel safe, Ledger.”

Oh. I forgot about that yet somehow still feel the need to defend her like it was my fault we were all in that predicament in the first place.

“We spoke to Grady,” Patrick says. “He said he could have the judge expedite it, and she’ll probably be served this week.”

I have so much I want to say, but now isn’t the time to say it. I have no idea when the right time to say it is. Or if I even need to say anything at all.

I take another drink and don’t respond to their news. I just sit silent, trying not to give off traitor vibes. Because that’s exactly what I am right now. There’s no way around it.

“Let’s change the subject,” Grace says, watching Diem as she heads back to the table. “How’s your mother, Ledger? I didn’t even get to talk to her while she was in town.”

“Good. They’re heading to Yellowstone, so they’ll probably drop into town on their way back through.”

Diem is climbing onto Grace’s lap when Grace says, “I’d love to see her. Let’s plan dinner for when they’re here.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Grace hands Diem a french fry and says, “The date is coming up. How are you feeling?”

I blink twice. I know she’s not referring to anything related to Scotty, but I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Leah?” Grace says. “The cancelled wedding?”

“Oh. That.” I shrug. “I’m fine. She’s fine. Things are better this way.”

Grace frowns a little bit. She always liked Leah, but I don’t think she knew the real Leah very well. Not that Leah is a bad person. I wouldn’t have proposed to her if I thought she was.

She just wasn’t good enough for Diem, and if Grace knew that, she’d thank me for calling off the engagement rather than continue to bring it up in hopes I change my mind.

“How’s the house coming along?” Patrick asks.

“Fine. I think I’m just a few months out from having it move-in ready.”

“When are you putting your current house up for sale?”

The thought of that makes me sink an inch deeper into my seat. Putting it up for sale will feel like selling off a piece of myself, for so many reasons. “I don’t know yet.”

“I don’t want you to move,” Diem says.

Those six words hit me right in the heart.

“But you’ll get to go stay with him at his new house,” Grace says, attempting to reassure her. “He won’t be far.”

“I like the house he has now,” Diem says with a pout. “I can walk there all by myself.”

Diem is staring at her hands. I want to reach over and pull her out of Grace’s lap and hug her and tell her I’ll never leave her, but it would be a lie.

I wish I would have waited just six months before deciding to build that house back when Diem was younger. Six months would have been plenty of time to know that the little girl Grace and Patrick were raising would infiltrate my life and my heart as if I made her myself.

“Diem will be fine,” Grace reassures me. She must be deciphering the look on my face right now. “It’s twenty minutes. Hardly anything will change.”

I stare at Diem, and she looks up at me, and I swear I can see tears in her eyes. But she closes them and curls into Grace before I can be sure.