Summer on Kendall Farm

CHAPTER TWO

A THOUSAND THINGS went through Kelly’s mind as she watched Jason Kendall staring through the window. She’d seen all the signs before. He was carrying a torch for his brother’s wife. Kelly had lived in Windsor Heights all her life, except for the five years she’d spent in New York after college. She’d heard conflicting versions of the story about Jason Kendall and his brother’s wife. You couldn’t live in Windsor Heights and not be fascinated by the people living at the Kendall, especially when they were acting less than perfect. And with Jason that was the norm.

Kelly had seen Jason at infrequent times. He always seemed to be away. Kelly doubted he would recognize her.

“What about the child?” she asked. The boy he’d carried in was small and dark, with no resemblance to Jace that she could see in the few seconds she’d glanced at his sleeping figure. “What’s his name?”

“Ari. Short for Aristotle.”

“Greek,” she smiled. “How long have you two been traveling?”

“A couple of days,” Jace said. “And he’s not Greek.”

She stood up. She admitted she shouldn’t do this, but she was going to. If Jace had been alone, she’d send him to the nearest hotel, but she couldn’t have him waking up a child and taking him out in the rain. And she did know him. If knowing his reputation and living within spitting distance of his home counted for anything, then she did know him. Almost.

“I can offer you a bed for the night. Tomorrow you’ll need to make other arrangements.”

He didn’t say anything, only stared at her.

Kelly couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. She felt a little strange. This had been his house before it was hers, but it was hers now. And none of the Kendalls had any claim on it.

Maybe Jace wanted to leave right now. Though he obviously didn’t know where his brother was, maybe he had friends in Windsor Heights he could go to. The hour was late, and from what she’d discerned no one knew he was coming back tonight.

“Thank you,” he finally said. “We’d appreciate that.”

Kelly moved when he spoke. Starting for the living room, she glanced over her shoulder to see him following her.

“If you have pajamas for him, you should get them. I’ll take him to one of the guest rooms.” She stopped, realizing Jason didn’t know where the guest rooms were. When he lived here they might not have been guest rooms.

“I’ll find you,” he said, understanding her thoughts.

Kelly stopped at the door to the living room and watched as Jace continued to the foyer. She went inside and kneeled in front of the boy. He was still asleep, his body curled into a fetal position. She watched him, trying to determine if there was any resemblance to the man she’d just spent time with in her kitchen. Although Ari was a beautiful child, again she found no features common to him and Jason Kendall. Lifting the child and the afghan Jason had covered him with, she found him lighter in weight than she thought he should be, but still heavy for her. She tried to put him on her shoulder, how Jace had held him, but he slipped down her body and she nearly sat him back on the sofa.

“Here, let me,” Jace said, coming to her rescue. In two strides he was by her side and taking the small bundle from her arms. He had set a small suitcase on the floor. It took a moment for them to exchange arms and legs. Kelly smelled the rain on Jace. The need to lean in closer and inhale deeply caught her off guard. Quickly, she lifted the suitcase, giving herself something to do to ward off the possibility that she might let her mind go where it wanted to. She turned and led them up the stairs, walking faster than usual.

She hadn’t thought about Jace in a while. All her energy was used up renovating the house and grounds. There were nights when she’d walk about the property and remember seeing him recklessly riding a horse over the jumping course. The old horse-racing track was farther away from the main house. Kelly thought Jace used it to annoy his brother.

He’d changed a lot. When she opened the door she would not have known him if he hadn’t given his name. The boyish good looks had been replaced with a rugged worldliness and an unhappiness that seemed to ooze from his pores. His body was solid, however. She’d felt that when he’d taken Ari from her grasp. His skin was tanned so he must have been outside a lot. The one thing he still had was the intensity that she had recognized as a teenager when she hung on the back fence and watched him ride.

Reaching the smallest guest room, Kelly switched on the light as she went inside. Rushing to the bed, she pulled the covers back and Jason laid the boy on the sheets. As Jason reached for the suitcase, she stepped out of his way and then left the two of them alone.

He came out of the room several minutes later. Kelly had checked the adjoining room to make sure it was clean and there were towels in the bathroom.

“You can sleep in this room,” she directed him.

“That’s all right. I’ll sleep here with Ari.”

“The two rooms are connected through the bathroom,” she told him. “It’s more comfortable in there. If Ari wakes up and calls for you, you’ll be close by. I’m sure, after such a long time traveling, you want someplace comfortable to sleep.”

“As tired as I am, I could sleep standing up,” he said in a road-weary voice.

“That won’t be necessary,” she told him with a smile. “Good night.”

Kelly left him. She turned to go back downstairs. It was late and she needed to turn off the lights and go to bed herself.

“Kelly,” Jason called.

She paused and turned.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

Kelly didn’t want to look at him. Her emotions were involved. Though clearly, to find out that he’d lost both his home and the woman he once loved in the same day was pushing him to the limit. It was a lot for anyone to handle.

“Good night,” was all Kelly could think to say. “It’s only one night,” Kelly whispered to herself. She owned the house now and no matter what stories she’d heard about Jason Kendall and how his father and brother had treated him, it was only one night.

* * *

SUNSHINE BLAZED THROUGH the huge windows that looked out on the back lawn. Kelly opened her eyes and squinted at the brightness. After all the rain the night before, the light seemed especially brilliant. She loved waking to sunshine and always left the drapes open. But it wasn’t the light that woke her today. The feeling of being watched encroached upon her sleep.

She was startled to see Ari’s eyes, barely higher than the coverlet, peering at her.

“Am I dead?” he asked.

Kelly blinked, pushing herself up on her elbows to see his entire face.

“Ari, why would you think you’re dead?”

“Everything is so white. And you’re an angel. Only an angel would know my name,” he answered in childlike logic.

Kelly looked at her bedroom. The cover was white, the rug was white and the walls were white. The totally white room had splashes of color in the throw pillows, and gold accents that Kelly had used to decorate the space. “Well, thank you,” she said. “But I am not an angel.”

“This is what the priest said heaven was like, except...” He trailed off.

“Except what?” Kelly prompted.

“Except for your wings.” He tried to look behind her as if she was hiding her angel wings within the folds of the bed cover.

Kelly laughed. “You’re not dead, Ari.”

He frowned and looked around the room, up at the ceiling, at her bed, and then back at her. “This isn’t heaven?”

“This is my bedroom.”

“All by yourself?” His eyes opened wide.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Wow!” he said. “Is my room for only me?” He pointed to himself as his boy-soprano voice went up hopefully at the end of the sentence.

Kelly sat fully up. She couldn’t tell the child he wouldn’t be staying. She’d only given Jason Kendall and his son a room for the night. Today they had to go.

“Where’s your father?” she asked instead of answering his question.

“I don’t know. Is he dead, too?”

“Ari, you’re not dead and neither is your dad.”

“What is this place? My dad said we were coming to his old house. This doesn’t look like a old house.”

Kelly stopped herself from correcting the boy’s grammar. “Actually, this is a very old house. It was built a long time ago.”

“Before I was born?”

Kelly smiled. “Before your father was born,” she told him. “People will want to come and see it when it’s complete. A lot of work has been done to make it look like it did back then.”

“Did you do it?”

She smiled. She’d forgotten that kids ask a lot of questions. “Yes, Ari, I did a lot of it.” Pushing her arms into the robe that matched her nightgown, she asked, “Are you hungry?”

He quickly began bobbing his head up and down.

“Good, then you can’t be dead. Because dead people don’t get hungry.”

He seemed to be weighing the truthfulness of that in his four-year-old mind. After a moment he nodded and she guessed he agreed with her.

“How about we go and get something to eat?” Kelly didn’t wait for an answer. She offered her hand and he took it. The two went downstairs to the kitchen.

“Wow,” he said again as they entered the spacious kitchen. “I never saw a room this big.”

Kelly was getting a picture of how they must have lived. Their home was probably a lot smaller in comparison. The house at the Kendall, constructed in 1860 by Caldwell Kendall on land that was a bequest upon his marrying a nearby landowner’s daughter, couldn’t be called a farmhouse. It wasn’t a purely serviceable structure. The Kendall was built to display the grandeur of the time.

The place had been magnificent when Kelly was a little girl. What it looked like when she bought it was another story. Slowly she was trying to give it back that glory. But it was expensive and she was having to find alternative means to keep it solvent.

“Do you like waffles?” she asked.

“What’s waffles?”

It was her turn to be surprised. “You’ve never had a waffle? Well, today is your lucky day.”

Kelly was used to fending for herself. She hadn’t grown up in the shadow of the luxury that was the Kendall. Her home was a small house a few miles away. Losing her mother when she was ten, she was raised by her father. He’d worked as a groom at a nearby farm, making barely enough money to make ends meet. Most of his money he drank before getting home. When he did come home, she’d take whatever she could find to buy food. Consequently, Kelly learned to make meals from practically nothing. And she never wasted anything.

She had a maternal grandmother living in Arizona and several cousins she’d heard of, but never seen. After her own mother died, she was too young to think of going to live with her grandmother and her father hadn’t begun to drink yet. By the time Kelly was old enough to think of leaving, she felt her father needed her. They’d fallen into a routine. While she couldn’t keep him from drinking, there was a weird stability to their relationship.

The Kendall had a part-time cook and housekeeper. The housekeeper came once a week and did the heavy cleaning. It was Kelly’s plan to increase her hours when the Kendall was self-sustaining.

“Can I pour now?” Ari asked after she’d stirred the mix.

“Ari, you speak English really well, how did that happen?”

“My dad teached me.”

Kelly smiled. Close enough, she thought.

While it had taken Kelly nearly six months to repair and replace the kitchen, she could say it was now properly christened. A fine coat of flour blanketed the surface of the granite counter and part of the floor. The waffle iron had burned sap oozing over the sides. And Kelly’s white angelic nightgown and robe were stained down the front with grape juice. Ari didn’t fair well, either. The grape stains on his pajamas trailed from neck to toe and his bronze-colored hands were white with flour.

“It’s my turn to pour,” Ari insisted.

“You bet it is,” Kelly told him. “But you have to be careful because this is very hot.” She pointed to the waffle iron.

“I can do it,” he assured her.

“All right. Are you ready?”

“Ready,” he said with a big smile on his face.

Kelly handed him a small mixing bowl with just enough batter to fill the waffle iron.

“Evenly,” she whispered. He made wide circles with the bowl, spreading the batter over the iron and watching it melt together to cover the surface.

“Now close the top,” she instructed.

He handed her the bowl and the two of them lowered the hot lid.

“Good,” she said. While they waited, Kelly finished the bacon and eggs and poured herself a cup of coffee. She hazarded to give Ari another cup of grape juice, only this time she found a cup and fashioned a top. Ari opened the waffle iron and, while the shape of the iron was circular, she flipped the strangely shaped trapezoid onto a plate. At the table seconds later, Ari dug into his breakfast. With his mouth full, he said, “I like it. Can we have these every day?”

There was that permanent question again. Ari thought he was here for good. Jason had told him they were coming here, coming home. Only he didn’t know about the sale. This wasn’t their home and Kelly couldn’t take them in. She was having a hard enough time getting the place back on its feet.

Ari took another bite of the syrupy confection. “I like it,” he said again. He put another forkful of food in his mouth then stopped and lowered his fork. He put his hands in his lap, looking down as if he shouldn’t be enjoying his meal.

“Is something wrong?” Kelly asked.

“Is my dad going to eat with us?”

“I’m sure he’s still asleep,” Kelly said. Jason had been dead on his feet last night and it was well past one o’clock when she’d shown him the room where he could sleep.

“He always eats breakfast with me,” Ari said.

“We could wake him up, but he’s very tired,” Kelly told him. “Do you think you can eat with me? Just this once?”

He cocked his head in a questioning manner and considered her offer. “He’s been tired before, but he always ate with me.”

“How about this,” Kelly asked. “When he wakes up, you can eat with him again?”

Ari smiled. Apparently, she’d hit upon the perfect solution. “I guess that’s all right.” Picking up his fork, he resumed his meal.

Kelly figured it would be lunchtime before Jason opened his eyes. She’d let him sleep. Ari was a delightful child. He had dark curly hair and eyes that were practically black. He was thin and limped slightly when he walked. Without a resemblance to Jace, Kelly thought Ari must look like his mother.

She wondered where his mother was now. Suddenly a terrible thought occurred to her. Suppose Jason had kidnapped his son and brought him here without the mother’s consent? After all, he’d shown up in the middle of the night without a place to stay and with a child. This could be trouble, she thought. And she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

* * *

THAT WAS THE best dream Jace had ever had. He and Ari played on a hill. They were safe. He knew nothing would happen to them there. Father and son ran, jumped and rolled over the ground. Jace heard his son laughing. He didn’t wheeze or limp, but hung on tightly when Jace swung him around in circles. Waking, he held on to the image for a moment longer.

Opening his eyes was a shock.

He didn’t know where he was. Sitting up in bed, his thoughts rushed to Ari. Where was he? Then it came back to him. Jace remembered.

He was home.

Pushing the covers aside, he went to the bathroom’s connecting door and into the room where Ari slept. The boy was gone. The bed had been made and other than the suitcase sitting open on a bench at the end of the bed, there was no sign that his son had ever been in this room.

Jace didn’t think about his appearance until he was halfway to the door. He turned around and ran back to the guest room. This wasn’t his room. When he lived here, this had been a guest room, but it didn’t connect to the room next door and neither of them had been decorated as they were now. Where he’d slept, the walls were a light blue. The bedding on the four-poster was mainly white, but picked up the same blue wall color in subtle stripes. Jace remembered it with gray walls and heavy furniture.

Ari’s room was a light green with white molding. His bedding was yellow and the boy required a step stool to reach the mattress. Formerly, the walls had been white and the bed smaller than the queen-size that sat there now.

Pushing his legs into his pants, Jace glanced out the window and stopped. Ari was outside.

With Kelly.

They were playing with a ball. He was teaching her soccer moves. Jace stared as his son bounced the ball off his knees and feet. Then he offered the ball to Kelly and she tried to imitate his moves. Jace laughed. It was hilarious to watch her. She showed no signs of embarrassment by being shown up by a four-year-old. Her hair bounced in the morning light. Copper highlights flickered, changing color with every movement of her head. When the ball fell to the ground and Kelly missed it, she ran after it. Ari limped after her. She tripped and fell. Ari went down with her. They both laughed. Jace laughed, too.

They looked good together. Ari had asthma, but he wasn’t coughing or wheezing and he didn’t look as if his breath was labored. Jace felt relief. This confirmed it was the correct decision to bring the boy here. Although now that they didn’t have a place to stay and Jace had no job, their lives were in flux. Jace had to stay strong for them both; he’d figure something out.

First he had to find them a place to stay. This was no longer the Kendall Farm he had known. Coming back here, specifically, had been a mistake. Jace had hoped things would change.

And they had.

But not in his favor.

CHAPTER THREE

“DAD,” ARI SHOUTED and took off running across the back porch. He threw open the screen door and launched himself into the kitchen. Even though he favored his left leg, Jace caught him as he propelled himself into his arms. The momentum of the ball of energy turned Jace completely around. “We waited a long time,” Ari said. “You were asleep. Kelly said you were tired.” He glanced at her, wobbling precariously in Jace’s arms. “We let you sleep. But we already ate. Two times.” He put up two fingers, running on with his explanation of their day.

“That’s all right, sport.” Jace kissed the boy on the top of his head. He looked at Kelly, who’d come into the kitchen behind Ari. “Thank you,” he said. “I didn’t intend to sleep the day away.”

She smiled. Jace thought she looked familiar when he saw that smile and tried to recall if he’d ever seen her before.

“We were outside playing,” Ari informed him. “I showed Kelly how to play soccer. She’s not very good.” He frowned, shaking his head, his expression very serious. “She needs to practice.” He pronounced the words very precisely.

Kelly laughed, raising her hand to cover her mouth. Something about the gesture grabbed Jace’s attention. A tiny trickle of awareness seeped inside him.

“Good morning.” He openly admired her. She was dressed in a short-sleeved T-shirt that stopped at her waist. It was met by a pair of light blue shorts that showed off her long legs. Jace found his eyes traveling the distance from the running shoes on her feet to the hair she’d let fall behind her shoulders.

“It’s not morning, Dad,” Ari said and tugged on his arm. Jace realized his son had repeated the sentence.

“I know,” he commented and with a kiss to his forehead set him on his feet.

Kelly opened the refrigerator and pulled out two drink bottles of orange juice. “Can you drink from the bottle?” she asked Ari.

“Yes,” he said reaching for it.

She loosened the top. Jace heard the snap as the seal was broken. She handed it to Ari.

“Why don’t you go and drink that on the porch?” Jace suggested.

Ari moved out the back door and Jace waited until his son was seated on the porch steps before addressing Kelly. She, too, was watching Ari. He didn’t know how to begin to say what he needed to say.

“He’s a wonderful child,” she said.

“I’m very proud of him.” He could tell she had questions about Ari. It was obvious by Ari’s black eyes and curly dark hair that none of Jace’s features were present in him. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Ask what?”

“Ask about Ari’s adoption,” he said.

“He’s adopted?”

Jace saw her shoulders drop as if she were relieved. “Does that make a difference?” He raised his eyebrows skeptically.

She came up in front of the counter that separated them. “I’m ashamed to admit what I was thinking.”

“And what was that?” Jace braced himself for some prejudicial comment. He’d seen people react to the two of them before.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“What?” He didn’t follow her thought patterns.

She shook her head quickly. “Of course, you wouldn’t. I used to live a couple of miles from here.”

“You did?” Was that why he felt he’d seen her before?

“In Short Hills,” she told him.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what and where Short Hill was. It was a poor area, run-down, with low-income housing and a lot of crime, a place where people double-and triple-locked doors that a good puff of wind could blow down. Anyone with an address there was immediately judged as a drunk or criminal. Jace now understood her logic. She wasn’t judging Ari’s paternity.