Page 52 of Miss Understanding

She was so beautiful despite her exhaustion. I found my hand couldn’t help but reach out and move her hair to the side, stroking her cheek.

Her eyes went wide. “I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

Which meant she was definitely thinking it. “It’s okay. I know you’re tired. Get some sleep.”

“You’ll wake me up in time?”

“Yes. I sure will.”

* * *

I didn’t want to wake her. Her face was relaxed in slumber. Her body curled up on her side as she cuddled a pillow. I was tempted to leave her here while I delivered the food to the church, but I knew with all of the work she’d done, she should at least be there to take the credit. Selfishly, it also took my mind off of the funeral to know she’d be there with me.

Without even trying, she calmed me. Eased my tension and anxiety about today. This was ironic since merely a week ago I’d been intensely uncomfortable around her. But I realized in dropping my barrier with her, I’d been given a gift. A gift of getting to know her. But it came with a responsibility. A responsibility to keep the professional lines intact. She was my assistant. I was her boss. Despite the temptation, I couldn’t risk a physical relationship with her.

I tapped her shoulder gently. “Time to wake up.”

Her eyes blinked open slowly. The way she looked at me made my heartbeat double. As if we were frozen in this moment. As if she’d love nothing more than for me to climb into bed with her and gather her close.

The thought was so enticing I had to step back. “It’s nine thirty. We should leave in a half hour.”

“’Kay.”

I left to give her privacy and heard the sound of the shower start. Jesus. Maybe I needed another one. A cold one.

A half hour later we loaded up the truck and headed to the church.

“You doing okay?” she asked.

I glanced over in her direction where she sat in the passenger seat. “Yeah. Thanks.” And because it felt right to share, I said, “I saw him yesterday.”

“How did it go?”

“Rough, as expected. But at least I can tell her I did it. I’m looking forward to getting back to reality tomorrow.”

“If it helps, I checked on our flights, and they’re still on schedule despite the snow.”

“Good. I’m guessing you’re working tomorrow night?” At the club.

“Yeah. Both Friday and Saturday nights.”

What could I say? That I didn’t like it. That I wanted her to quit even knowing she used the money to help her family. “Will you be short this month for your grandmother’s housing payment since you didn’t work last weekend?”

“No. The overtime from this week will more than compensate for it.”

I suddenly had an idea. What if I could offer her more overtime work on the weekends? She could help me with my cases instead of bartending at the club. I certainly had enough to keep her busy. But now wasn’t the time for the discussion as we’d just pulled up in front of the church.

My mother stood there as if she was waiting. I noticed the relief on her face. Almost as though she’d worried about whether or not I would show up. Today would be hard as they’d be talking about a man I never knew. A man my mother believed deserved the good things said about him. I would figure out a way to be okay with a new angle on an old history.

“You okay?” Kendall asked before we opened the doors. This time she focused on me fully with her body turned.

My hand took hers as if it was the most natural action in the world. “Ask me later. Come on. Let’s unload the best food anyone in this town will have ever eaten.”

Just smelling it made me hungry. But knowing how hard she’d worked on everything humbled me. It also made my chest tight; I was aware of how tired she must be now.

The next hour was a blur. Since there were plenty of church volunteers to help Kendall, I had no choice but to go with my family into the church. There sat the urn. At least I could be thankful there wasn’t an open casket. Seeing him yesterday had been hard enough.

Sitting still during the service was near impossible. I sat next to my mother, swallowing down the bitter taste while I listened to the kind words the preacher had to say. It was all I could do to remain cordial while people expressed their condolences after the service.