“Get in.” She grinned saucily as he got into her car, trailed by the guard in his car behind them. Jim rolled his eyes at the deja vu moment with the intrusive guards.
Kayla drove to the Waterfront and slipped into a parking spot next to a small hot dog stand.
Dinner?
She grinned. “They have the best hot dogs. Have you tried them?”
“No,” he replied as he fell into step beside her. Really? A hot dog stand? He pulled out a twenty and got eight bucks back in change. At least he could handle the cost of dinner.
Holding her wrapped hot dog and swishing her pop around, Kayla tipped her head and said, “Let’s go sit on the log over there.”
A huge trunk of driftwood, bleached smooth and bright from the sun and surf awaited them. The waters of the cold Puget Sound lapped the pebbled shoreline in a soft rhythm. A warm breeze drifted over their skin, blowing her hair all about her face.
Wearing shorts, she folded her legs up and sat on them before unwrapping her tasty meal, and taking a bite. Jim did the same and she caught his eye and started smiling. Eyebrows raised, she asked, “The best, right?”
“Wow, yeah. These are really good.”
“Yeah. I used to sneak down here with Rob. He’d put on a hat and dark glasses and we’d pretend he was ordinary. Which he always was to me. But not to everyone else. We’d buy a couple of hot dogs and walk on the beach sometimes.”
“You mention Rob a lot. What about your real dad? Doug? Neither you nor Kathy mention him very often. Aren’t there any little memories he shared with you like you share with Rob?”
She shrugged, staring out at the water, squinting at the bright angle of the sun when it dipped lower in the sky. “You know the story of how my dad left and my mom met Rob, right?”
“Only heard it twice. For two years, that isn’t much.”
She shook her head and smiled. “It’s startling when I remember how long you’ve been with my sister, enough to know so much about my life and family.”
“But it’s different from your perspective. And yes, I agree, it’s all strange.”
“I’m glad Dad came back because it helped me heal my anger. Kathy still has a sense of abandonment and fears losing people she loves. And Karlee never experienced the anger of knowing her father chose to leave us. Yeah, he had some problems. His brother committed suicide and he had to stay with his parents and all that. But he didn’t come back. It wigged him out. I see that now as an adult, and understand why it could happen, but as a kid? I was furious because I didn’t understand. He was an adult. My parent. He should have gotten help and come back for us. When he did show up years later, it was hard to know what to feel about him. I learned to forgive him but I’ve never felt the same towards him. I don’t trust him even now. When he moved out and Mom and he divorced, they settled things amicably. Every other weekend and every other Wednesday night. He was fine. But never excellent. Fiercely loyal? That was Rob. Always. He chose us every single day. Still does. And you know that just by listening to him. Dad remarried and started traveling after retirement; and honestly? It’s fine with me now. I see him every few months when he comes back and talk to him at random times. It’s totally fine with me. But Rob and Mom are my everyday parents. You know?”
He bit the hot dog and rubbed his mouth with the napkin. “No. Never had everyday parents.”
Kayla’s gaze sharpened. “What do you have? I’m afraid I know nothing about your past. Kathy said you had no family and that was why you made the church your family.”
Jim stared at the lapping water. “She’d be right. Parents died`. I ended up in foster care with a decent couple until I was old enough to go to school and once I went to college, I pretty much lived there until I finished.”
She balled up her hot dog wrapper and tucked it into her pocket. Leaning forward, she took his hand. “That’s tough. I’m really sorry. Now I see why you do what you do.”
He rolled his eyes at her with a smirk. “You also think I’m perfect for it personality-wise. Judgmental. Harsh. Pious. Prickly. Those were some of the words you used to describe me over the years, right?”
She let out a husky laugh. “Probably. But you forgot to add an engaging speaker, who employs relatable experiences and messages, and has an amazing ability to connect to many, and rarely smiles but when you do, it thrills my heart.”
He finished his hot dog and wadded up the trash. “My smile doesn’t affect anyone.”
“It does. Even when I really didn’t like you, I had to admit you have a great smile. And you really don’t smile very often, except when the really old ladies gush over your sermon or a new church dessert or insist on giving you a quilt they collectively made… Whatever they have to say, you smile attentively, listen actively and make them feel as young and cherished as they probably did when they were twenty.”
He blinked. “You… you see that in me?”
“Yes.” She scooted closer and grabbed the material of his t-shirt and pulled herself towards him. She tilted her neck back and kissed his chin. “I did before. I still do. You were always so good with the ladies.” She smiled with a wink. But her smile faded. “No. Really,
