CHAPTER 20
1246 Words
CHAPTER 20
“How are you holding up, kiddo?” Carl certainly looked different behind the wheel of his Honda when they weren’t getting gunned down by a crazed criminal.
“I’m exhausted.” Kennedy shut her eyes. All the nurse had given her after the horse pill was some directions about changing the bandages.
“Well, the good news is we’ll be home soon. And just so you know, Sandy’s probably still awake,” he warned. “She’ll want to see for herself that you’re well taken care of.”
Kennedy was glad for the warning. If Carl’s wife was awake, it would take ten or twenty minutes at minimum to tell the entire story over tea, but Kennedy could handle that. The Lindgrens were about as close a thing to family as Kennedy had in Cambridge, and Christmas season was a lousy time to be alone. At least Drisklay didn’t need her downtown tomorrow morning so she could sleep in.
Kennedy kept checking the rear-view mirror, and she caught Carl doing the same on more than one occasion.
“You’d think we’re a bunch of loons,” Carl joked when they both glanced up at the same time. “Throwing glances over our shoulders every chance we get.”
It felt good to laugh even about something as dangerous as a murderous stalker. Kennedy kept reminding herself about the officers Drisklay had promised to send to the Lindgrens’ house. Nothing was going to happen tonight.
When they got to Carl and Sandy’s, the police car was already out front. Carl opened the garage door but stopped in the driveway and lowered his window when a tall officer headed over. The man kept one hand on his belt and walked over in that special slow gait Kennedy had previously assumed was just for cops in movies.
“Mr. Lindgren.” He nodded at them both through the window. “Miss Stern.”
“Thanks for being here.” Carl held his hand out.
The officer didn’t make eye contact but kept scanning the whole perimeter while he shook Carl’s hand. “We don’t want to bother you any. We already took a look around. We’ll be the first to know if anyone tries something funny.”
Carl nodded. “I appreciate that. I’ll just pull in the car then.”
“Yup,” the policeman replied. “You just go about your night like normal and try to forget we’re here.”
Carl rolled his window halfway up and paused. “Oh, if we run into problems, do we call you or 911?”
The officer lowered his gaze as well as his voice. “If you run into problems, we’ll know it before you even have a chance to yell.”
The answer wasn’t as reassuring as Kennedy might have hoped. Still, she was thankful to be home, or at least some semblance of it. Anywhere safe with a bed was good enough for her.
Carl pulled the Honda slowly into the garage and then came around to help Kennedy out of the car. She could walk just fine on her own, but she didn’t mind having Carl to lean on. Something about his closeness was reassuring. He escorted her up the garage steps and into the kitchen, where the hot smell of cinnamon and vanilla mingled together and set her mouth watering.
“It’s about time you showed up!” Sandy exclaimed, wiping her floury hands on her apron. “Those men outside were making me nervous.”
“Just remember they’re here to keep us safe.” Carl gave her a peck on the cheek.
“I know.” Sandy waved a spatula in the air. “But it still gives me willies.”
He reached out and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Kennedy,” she asked, hardly noticing his affections, “do you feel up for some cookies and milk? I have tea, too, if you’d prefer. Oh, and these cinnamon rolls are fresh. I made them this morning.”
A few minutes later, they were all seated at the dining room table with fresh desserts and mugs of hot, steaming tea. Kennedy put an extra spoonful of sugar in hers, figuring she deserved it after a night like this. In the background, the Lindgrens’ radio crooned about a white Christmas, and the wind howled outside.
“Any more problems with the electricity while we were gone?” Carl asked.
Sandy took a sip of tea. “No, thank the Lord. Only that little episode before you left. I unplugged the TV, though, just in case.”
Carl leaned back in his chair, and Kennedy wondered how he could be so calm. Didn’t he remember everything they had gone through? Gino had tried to kill them. They would be dead right now if it hadn’t been for a major dose of luck.
No, not luck, Kennedy had to remind herself. Had she even bothered to thank the Lord for bringing her through a night like this?
Sandy asked Kennedy about her semester and her finals, and Kennedy was grateful she didn’t have to talk about Gino or tonight’s excitement. After a little more small talk and two more cookies, music from The Nutcracker faded in on the Lindgrens’ radio, and Kennedy strained to remember if it had really been tonight she had gone to the ballet with Reuben. She sure would have a lot to tell him when she returned to campus in January.
“Oh, you got Justice’s old spot, didn’t you?” Sandy pointed to the numerous nicks in the wood. “That boy would fidget with his knife the whole meal through. It’s a wonder he ever grew. Boy hardly ate a thing.”
“How many kids do you guys have?” Kennedy asked. When Carl led her parents’ church back in New York, she remembered the Lindgrens having a large family, but she could never keep track of how many there were.
Carl and Sandy exchanged frowns and both gave different answers at the same time.
“Thirteen.”
“Six.”
They chuckled, and Sandy reached over to pat Kennedy’s arm. “We did foster care, and then we adopted some at different ages.”
“The correct answer,” Carl answered with his mouth stuffed with cinnamon roll, “is three biological, three adopted, and a whole lot of other sons and daughters of the heart, even if the state doesn’t recognize them.”
“Well, and some of them wouldn’t claim us anymore, either,” Sandy added, taking a sip of tea.
Kennedy looked from one to the other but could only guess at the chaos, the heartache, the drama, the fullness, the joy that had been the Lindgrens’ family life. She wondered if either one would say any more, but they were both staring at their plates quietly. Had Kennedy said something wrong? Had she opened old wounds?
“And how many grandkids?” she finally asked. Wasn’t that a subject grandparents loved to talk about? She remembered Pastor Carl’s office, all the hand-drawn pictures and professional portraits he had up of his grandchildren.
“Five,” he mumbled into his mug.
Sandy raised her eyes to meet Kennedy’s. “Six,” she corrected softly. “Five here with us, and one little one with the angels in heaven.”
Carl took a loud gulp of coffee and clunked his mug on the table. “That was delicious, dear.” He scooted his chair back noisily and kissed Sandy on top of her head. “It’s been a long night.”
Kennedy frowned. Why was he leaving so abruptly?
Sandy took his hand in hers, and a tender look passed between them. “You sure?”
His face softened. “You know me, baby. I get grumpy without my beauty rest.” He gave a little wink and kissed his wife once more. “Love you.”
Sandy pecked his hand before letting it go. “I won’t be long.”
“Yes, you will,” he laughed. “Just don’t keep Kennedy up. Remember, she’s had the hardest day of all of us.”
“I’ll behave myself,” Sandy promised and blew him a kiss.
The floorboards creaked under Carl’s weight as he shuffled down the hall.
Kennedy stared into her plate, uncertain what she had done to make Carl leave. “I’m really sorry.” She kept her voice low so he wouldn’t overhear. “I didn’t realize ...”
“Of course you didn’t, sweetie.” Sandy stood up and brought the platter of cookies over to the table. She set two more in front of Kennedy without asking. “Of course you didn’t.” Sandy swept her hair over her shoulder and sat down with a loud sigh. “Have I ever told you about our daughter, Blessing?”
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