Page 24 of The Last Key (Baker Girls #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY

DEVON

Kennedy leaving put me in an immediate funk. It shouldn’t be bothering me this much. She’s coming back tomorrow. I won’t even have to go thirty-six hours without her.

“Here,” Justin says, sliding a latte in front of me. “Drink. You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

“I don’t have a puppy.”

“You know what I mean,” he says, dropping onto a nearby stool as I stare at the mug in front of me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shrug. “It’s fine.”

“It’s obviously not. You look like you’re about to start crying into your latte. I thought you wanted her to take the interview.”

“I do.”

He blinks at me. “But you also don’t?”

I clear my throat. “I don’t want to hold her back from her dreams. I’m so fucking proud of her. She worked so many shitty jobs to get to this point. This is her dream. Why should I take that from her just because I don’t want to go to New York?”

I wince as the words leave my mouth. In turn, Justin’s eyes widen.

“Wow. Have you told Kend that?”

My lips pull into a flat line. “No. Because it’s not just about me.”

“Right, it’s about both of you. Your opinion matters, too. Why don’t you want to go to New York?”

“I—” my phone goes off before I can answer. Seeing my mother’s name, I quickly swipe it off the counter and answer. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

“Devon, honey,” her voice is urgent, and I immediately stand up, heart racing. “Your dad had a fall.”

“How bad?” I ask, hurrying toward the front door. Concerned, Justin hops off his stool and follows me.

“Not sure yet. He lost consciousness for a minute, but he’s awake now. The ambulance is here, but you know the drill. They won’t let me ride with them.”

“I’m leaving now. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Don’t drive like an idiot. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

“What happened?” Justin asks as I grab my keys and dash out the door, sprinting down the walk to my 4Runner.

“Dad fell. I need to get my mom so we can meet the ambulance at the hospital,” I call behind me as I jump into the driver’s seat.

Justin runs around the front and hops in the passenger side. “Okay. Do you need me to call anyone? Kennedy?”

I hand him my phone as I start the car and back out of the driveway.

“I’ll call her later. Just let me know if my mom calls or texts.”

Justin side-eyes me but doesn’t argue.

Maybe I should call Kennedy, but she’s probably already boarding her flight. There’s nothing she can do. I’d rather not upset her before her interview. I want her to kick ass, even if I’ve realized I really like the life I’ve built here, far more than I liked living in New York.

Fuck, this is too much right now.

My phone goes off, and I look over at Justin, who is reading a text.

“Your mom said Gladys was close and picked her up. They’re headed to the hospital and want you to meet them there.”

I shift in the seat, not moving my gaze from the windshield. “Okay.”

Taking the turn for the hospital, I focus only on getting there quickly. Thankfully, since it’s a Wednesday morning, there isn’t much traffic.

I’m rigid in my seat as I stare at the empty road in front of me.

I shouldn’t be this worked up. It’s not the first fall my dad has had.

It won’t be his last. Maybe that’s the most upsetting thing.

There’s nothing I can do to help him. To slow the progression of this disease.

I didn’t expect it to take so much of him so quickly.

This is just one fall, but all too often, one fall leads to another and another and he’s in a flare-up, or worse, another downslide.

As I pull into the parking lot, my stomach churns. I wish Kennedy were here with me. I’ve gone through this alone for years. I have my mother, Gladys, and many wonderful folks around town who help and support us, but emotionally, I’ve gone through it all alone.

It’s your own fault she’s not here.

I wanted her to take the interview. She’s worked too hard to let it pass by, but what if she gets this job?

Will it be more long hours where I barely see her?

Or worse, if something like this happens, will I have to fly back alone because she can’t leave her job?

Now I feel like an asshole again for even thinking that.

She deserves to have everything she wants in her life.

Pulling into a spot, I let out a long breath and clench my hand around the steering wheel as I shut off the car.

Justin looks over at me when I don’ t open my door.

“You need a minute?”

I stare at him for a second, then shake my head. “No. Let’s go.”

We get out of the car and head inside. Not seeing my mom or Gladys, I send Gladys a text in case Mom is busy with Dad or a doctor.

Me: Just got here. Where are you?

Gladys: Oh good. There’re double doors at the edge of the ER. We’re down a hall in another waiting room. Let the staff know who you’re here for and they should let you through.

Me: Thanks.

I gesture for Justin to follow me, and go to the check-in desk, letting them know who we’re here for. They let us through the double doors, and we quickly find the waiting room.

“Mom,” I call, hurrying over and pulling her into my arms.

“It’s all right, dear,” she says softly.

When I let her go, I take her hands. “What happened?”

She sighs. “He wanted a breakfast sandwich, and he didn’t want me to get up and make it for him.

Thankfully, he let me sit in my chair in the kitchen and hand him things.

He was turning to pick something up from the table when he lost his footing, fell backward, and caught his head on the edge of the counter. ”

My eyes go wide. “Jesus, Mom. That doesn’t sound like it’s all right. Where is he now?”

“Getting a CT and an MRI. He was conscious and making jokes with the ambulance crew when they left, so I think he’ll be fine.”

“This time. What about next time? I know you—and especially Dad—don’t want to rely on me or an aide, but you need to. This could’ve been worse. What if he’d been in there alone? We have to come up with a better plan. ”

Mom nods solemnly. “I suppose we do.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to take your independence. That’s the last thing I want, but I need you to be safe.”

“I know, sweetheart. Once this is all settled with your dad, we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

She looks around, then waves at Justin. “Where’s Kennedy?”

“She had to fly back to New York this morning.”

“Oh, that’s right. I hope it all goes well for her. Did you call her?”

“Not yet.”

She furrows her brow. “Why not?”

“She’s on the plane. Nothing she can do.”

Mom shakes her head. “There are other ways to reach her.” When I don’t say anything, she sighs. “Hopefully the doctor will be out soon. Try not to worry.”

“Sure.”

I help her back into her chair next to Gladys, then take a seat in a row of chairs across from her next to Justin.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I guess. Just worried.”

“Your dad’s tough. He’ll be okay.” He’s quiet for a second, then asks, “Do you want me to message Kennedy? She can’t answer her phone, but she’ll have Wi-Fi access, at least.”

“No, that’s okay. There’s nothing she can do on the plane, anyway.”

“And so she doesn’t deserve to know? To be able to support you?”

“How is she going to support me from there?”

He squints at me. “Are you pissed she left? Because you’ve been encouraging her to go.”

“I’m not pissed that she left. I would never want to stand in the way of her dreams.”

His brows pinch together. “But you want to stay in Brighton?” I nod slowly. “Because of your parents? Because you know there’s nothing you could’ve done, right? You being here can’t change or prevent things like this from happening. Don’t use this as your excuse not to leave.”

“I know,” I huff. “Believe me, I know. I wish I could change it, but I can’t.

Of course I want to be here to support my parents in moments like this, but that’s not why I don’t want to leave.

Until recently, I thought it was, but I think I was using it as an excuse.

I’m actually… happy here. I didn’t think I would be.

That probably doesn’t make any sense since I grew up here. ”

“No,” he says gently, “I get it. I left New York to move home first, remember? Thing is, I feel more at home there than I did in Chicago or Manhattan, but I still feel like I’m trying to find my place. Or maybe the right person. I don’t know. If you feel at home here, that’s a big thing. I get it.”

“I never thought I’d end up feeling like this. Like this is where I want to build my future. The only thing that’s been missing is Kennedy.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t told her this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because her career is important.”

“And what you want isn’t?” He stares at me for a moment, like he’s figuring out some complex math problem.

“What?” I grit out.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’ve always been like this, or if it started when you moved back here.”

“Been like what?”

“Someone who sacrifices their wants and needs for everyone else.”

I scoff. “That’s not what I do.”

“Let’s check the score. How many years did you put your feelings for Kennedy away simply because you didn’t want to push her?

When your parents called and asked for help, you didn’t fly home for a few weeks, you packed all your shit and moved to the opposite side of the country even though you’d just gotten a killer new job.

And now, when you’re settled and enjoying life in Brighton, you’re going to pack up and move to the other side of the country again without a second thought if Kennedy gets this job. Scoreboard says: self-sacrifice.”

Fuck him for being right.

But he’s not done. “Jesus, that’s the same reason you aren’t calling Kennedy now, isn’t it? Man, you’re an idiot.”

“Thanks for that.”

“I’m serious. You’re trying to protect Kennedy, not upset her, let her have this job—whatever.

Have you ever stopped and thought that she deserves to know what happened with your dad this morning?

Because she cares about your parents. She cares about you.

Do you think it would make her happy to know you’d move across the country even though you don’t want to?

That’s not how real, healthy relationships work. ”

“I don’t want to ruin things. Yes, we’ve loved each other for a long time, but we only just got together. This is a big thing.”

“Right. So, talking about it is absolutely not the answer.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“I’ve narrated enough romances to know that not talking about shit is a much faster way to ruin things than talking about the hard stuff.

You and Kennedy have a strong relationship because it’s rooted in your friendship.

She deserves to know how you feel and you deserve to have what you want in life, too.

And I promise you, taking all choices away from her by just going along with things and not telling her the truth is not how you’re going to get that. ”

I stare at him, frustration and anger rumbling in my stomach. I wish I could be mad at him, but damn it, he’s so fucking right it hurts.

“I’ll talk to her,” I say finally.

“Wow, you act like you’re taking a knife to the gut.”

Pushing out a breath, I say. “I love her. I love her so fucking much it doesn’t make sense.

I didn’t know how deeply I could love until we finally opened our hearts to each other.

The last thing I want is for her to feel like she has to choose between a job and me.

But you’re right. I shouldn’t keep things from her.

As soon as we talk to the doctor, I’ll send her a message and tell her what happened. ”

“Good.”

Until then, I’ll keep being a massive chicken shit.

Solid plan.