Battling the Best Man: A Harmony Falls Novel, Book 2 (Crimson Romance) (16 page)

The ride home was long and laborious, with Kory’s thoughts pummeling her brain until she had a first-rate headache. When Kory pulled in a little after nine, Aunt Jeanie’s car was in the driveway. Knowing Aunt Jeanie normally dropped her sister off on the fly, the parked, empty car concerned Kory. But then the concern turned to annoyance. She really didn’t want to explain her early departure from the party.

Stopping far enough behind to allow Aunt Jeanie plenty of room to back out and around her, Kory crawled out of the truck with her cell phone in hand, figuring she could feign some work emergency if need be. She walked. The dogs didn’t greet her, which was odd, unless they were off hunting small, defenseless animals again. Something just didn’t seem right, and she slowed her steps, moving silently onto the porch and opening the screen door.

Holding her breath, she stepped inside and stopped, waiting for the dogs again. Nobody welcomed her. No television noise filled the front room. Just when she was ready to panic, she heard voices from the kitchen, and relief set in.

She stepped forward again.

“Some days I think it would be best to tell her the truth, but how do you tell someone she was almost aborted.”

It was her mother’s voice. The vague collection of words eradicated the relief and gave way to a painful twisting in Kory’s gut.
Who
was almost aborted?

“I still say no. What good could come of Kory knowing?”

Kory.
She doubled over, grabbing hold of her stomach. Abortion was such a harsh word, and an even harsher action.

Thumping and barking hit her from behind as the dogs jumped onto the porch, greeting her through the screen, rattling the wood pane with their paws.

“Is someone there?” Mom called, her voice growing louder and closer with every syllable.

Kory didn’t want to be found. She wanted time to process this.

“Oh…I…why are you here?” The last part was so high-pitched that it made Kory wince.

She squeezed her eyes shut before she opened them and looked at her mother, not knowing if she had the strength to say the words forming in her head. Breathing felt like stabbing to her chest, but she did it anyway—did it so she could say, “Maybe that’s a question I should be asking you. If you wanted to abort me, then why am I here?”

“You heard.” Mom went pale, tears rolled from her eyes, and she opened her arms to Kory. “I’m so sorry. I…”

Kory stepped back just as Aunt Jeanie walked into the room. “Baby girl, let her explain.”

Shock. Bone-deep sadness. It settled over Kory like a thick fog that dulled her senses, threatening to pull her to the ground.

“Kory, listen to me. I love you.”

Parents loved their children, of course. But this…this changed things. “You
love
me, but you didn’t want me.” She said the words, trying to clarify their meaning, trying to reconcile how one could exist with the other.
Just have this conversation and get past it
, Kory thought, trying to maintain a death grip on her composure. She was too old, too worldly to not understand people had their reasons. She’d heard many of them during her obstetrical rotations in medical school. She just never imagined she’d be hearing one that pertained to her.

“We didn’t know what we wanted. I went to the clinic, because I didn’t think I had a choice. Your father was accepted into an architecture program in Michigan. It was his dream, but it was a fulltime program, and I couldn’t imagine him succeeding if he worked, too. So I was going to carry us, but I didn’t have a skill beyond waitressing. We had a thousand dollars of wedding gift money to our name, and we hoped that was enough to find an efficiency and get us to Michigan so I could find work. When I found out I was pregnant, we were in shock. How would we add a baby to that? How would we afford daycare?”

It was a tough predicament to be in. Newly married, ready to conquer their dreams, and then… standing there, listening to her mother’s sniveling words, Kory felt oddly removed, like the story wasn’t one that almost ended with her not being here.

“I wanted your father to have everything he ever dreamed of, so I told myself it was the smart thing to do. He could concentrate on school, and I could work to pay the bills, and we’d have more children when the time was right. It was an initial instinct, but we couldn’t go through with it.” Mom grabbed Kory’s hand. “I’m so glad I didn’t. I adore you. You are everything to us. That’s why we’ll stop at nothing to see you succeed. Please, Kory, don’t let this upset you.” She placed a hand on Kory’s cheek, and Kory dutifully nodded. All the years of parental pride over her achievements and pressure to be gone in order to achieve more. They all made sense now. Her parents chose her over their dreams of getting out of Harmony Falls, and they weren’t going to let her do the same.

It was too much to process. Too confusing to make real sense of it now. Except, maybe sacrifice was the greatest kind of love.

Clarity. Kory left the Mitchell’s house in search of it, and boy did she find it.

Chicago was where she belonged.

When Kory didn’t return to the party, Will suspected she was mad. He never intended the little performance to tip off anyone about the relationship neither one of them was comfortable claiming just yet. But apparently he’d made it loud and clear, because Alice returned to the party, treating him with extra kindness and aiming many inquisitive glances his way. He didn’t think her attention had anything to do with her wanting him to sing again.

On the way home, he thought about calling Kory, apologizing for making a spectacle out of them, but he figured she wouldn’t answer if she was mad—look what happened when he called back after the butt dial. Stopping by her house wasn’t wise, either. She wouldn’t be alone, and cluing her mother into the something brewing between them was bound to make Kory even angrier. So, he drove home and let himself into the darkened house, where he attempted to take solace in Molly’s warm greeting.

Still the house felt empty, and he woke up feeling like he hadn’t slept at all.

At a quarter after nine the next morning, his cell phone rang. Dr. Don Waterman listened while Will praised Kory, and eventually the man agreed to consider her for the Valley Hospital residency program directorship. All she had to do was forward him her
curriculum vitae
.

Will winced, convincing Kory of that would take more than Chicago-style deep-dish pizza and hot dogs after last night. Still, he had a plan and a chef on standby. So he called Charlie and charged ahead.

After a morning of meetings, Will decided enough was enough, and he dialed her. She didn’t answer. A little anxious that his big evening could go down without a dinner guest, he drove over to the nursing home during an afternoon lull. She wasn’t in her office, so he wandered down the hall to her father’s room.

“Afternoon, Mr. Flemming, Mrs. Flemming,” Will said, poking his head around the doorjamb for a quick look. No Kory there either.

Ken lifted his good hand to wave.

“Hello, Will,” Carole said, a blank expression on her face.

She looked tired, even more tired than him. He supposed that was the byproduct of worry and hours spent shut inside a nursing home. Again, he admired Kory’s self-sacrifice in order to get her father home and her parents back to some semblance of normal.

Feeling it would be rude to leave after a quick hello, he walked into the room with a smile. “You’re looking stronger every day, Mr. Flemming. You’ll be home in no time.” He patted the man’s leg.

Ken laughed. “I feel good.” The words were slow and broken, but all the parts were there for him to be understood.

Will remembered when nothing the man said sounded remotely familiar. It had to thrill Kory to see the progress.

Will patted him again. “How’s our resident doctor treating you? She better not be pushing you too hard.”

It was a joke, but no one laughed. The Flemmings exchanged rigid glances, and then Ken grunted. “I feel good,” he said again.

The whole exchange seemed strange, and in that moment Will felt terribly unwelcomed. He smiled to hide his confusion over whatever was happening. “Good. Good to hear. Well, I’ll let you get your rest. Mrs. Flemming.” He tipped his head as he backed away.

She curved her lips, but it was hardly a smile.

An unsettled feeling accompanied Will through the halls as he wandered around in search of Kory, but she was nowhere to be found. Finally, Bev asked him if he was looking for something.

“Have you seen Dr. Flemming?”

Her brows lifted. “Not since this morning. She rounded early and in a hurry, and she left before ten.”

It was one more thing to make him uncomfortable.

“Is she over at Valley schmoozing social workers and families, drumming up more admissions?”

Bev shook her head. “Nope. She went yesterday. She only does that once a week.”

Maybe she was home. Will glanced at his watch, knowing he had too little time between now and his two-o’clock meeting to drive out to the Flemming house. Then it dawned on him she might be with Alice, and the possibility took some of the edge off. He dialed her number again when he reached his car.

“I was just about to call you.” Kory’s voice was dulled by a whooshing sound that made it hard to hear her and impossible for him to be as happy about talking to her as he hoped to be.

“Where are you? You sound like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

“Driving. Windows are down. Listen, we need to talk. Tonight.”

“Yes. Good. My house. Say seven?”

“I’ll see you there.”

“Kory…” He wasn’t going to let her hang up and relegate him to the rest of the day worrying about where they stood. “Are you mad at me?”

The whooshing threatened to drown her out. “No. I’ll see you tonight.”

Silence settled over him as the line went dead. She wasn’t mad, and he would see her tonight. So why didn’t he feel any better?

• • •

Kory glanced at the papers on the passenger seat. They were held in place despite the whipping wind with the weight of her purse. Finding an attorney who would look over her employment contract on such short notice wasn’t easy. She had to drive two towns past Rileyville and miss her father’s morning physical therapy session, but she kept telling herself peace of mind was worth the hassle. She needed to know what she’d be up against when she handed Will her resignation tonight.

He wouldn’t be happy. In fact, she was preparing for livid, and if she wanted to get to Chicago to rejoin her fellowship program by the end of next week, she needed him not to fight her leaving. Now that she knew there was very little he could do to enforce the breach of contract, which would result from her not giving thirty-day notice like the contract stated, she was breathing a little easier. A little. Her lungs still burned. She wasn’t the kind of person who liked leaving anyone in a lurch, and leaving with limited notice was bound to cause a problem for the nursing home.

This was not how she hoped to leave Harmony Falls, but last night changed everything.

Slowing her speed as she entered town, Kory contemplated returning to the nursing home, checking in with her parents to see how her father’s session went, but a thickening thread of self-preservation told her to stay away, let them get used to her not being around, let her get used to it, too.

This morning when Kory announced she was returning to Chicago, her mother wasn’t nearly as relieved as Kory anticipated she would be. Oh, she said she was, adding
that’s where you belong
to the conversation more than once, but there wasn’t any excitement. Kory refused to let that sway her. It was probably just emotional exhaustion from the upheaval of the stroke and the admission of a secret carried far too long.

A bubble of stomach acid pushed into Kory’s throat and popped in her mouth. She’d been battling the upset since last night. What her parents did or didn’t do almost thirty years ago didn’t matter. What mattered was what they did now. This morning when she walked into her father’s room mid-rounds, she could tell by the look on her mother’s face he was apprised of the situation. Still, he smiled and gripped her right hand so hard a bruise remained on her finger from the pressure of her ring.

“I love you more than life itself,” he’d said, despite the struggle of tears on top of dysarthria.

See? It wasn’t that she wasn’t wanted; they simply wanted more for her. Call it living vicariously. Call it warped retribution. She was thankful for whatever it was.

Alice’s theatre came into view, and Kory needed to see her, and not just to tell her she was leaving. So many times over the years when things were particularly hard being out on her own, she’d wished for the luxury of walking into Alice’s house, where whatever chaos was occurring was bound to make her feel better about her own. Before too long, she’d be back in that predicament again.

When Kory stepped inside the overly air-conditioned, glitzy lobby, she could smell Alice’s perfume, and the scent made her smile. It was funny how a person could put her stamp on a neutral space. It was a business, not Alice’s house, but it
felt
like Alice.

The double doors to the theatre swung open and Alice’s assistant, Wren Cannon, stopped them mid-swing. “Hey, you. What a nice surprise. You came to help us catalog the costume room, didn’t you?”

Kory laughed and pointed to Wren’s head. “Is that why you’re wearing horns?”

She stepped forward, letting the doors swing shut with a soft thud and pulled the item in question in front of her face, dragging along with it several strands of orange hair. “They are for the youth theatre production of ‘How to Train Your Dragon’. Cute, huh? I swear to God, playing around in the costume room is the best part of my job.” She slapped the horns back on her head. “Come on, you can help me carry a few more boxes up. Alice will be so happy to see you.”

An hour later, Kory was ankle deep in toile and sporting a purple feather boa, and somehow against all odds she was having a good time.

“How about this one?” Wren asked, holding up a red velvet cape.

“Little Red Riding Hood,” Alice said, scribbling in the binder perched on her lap. “
Into the Woods
.”