CHAPTER 8: KERRY
I went back to work feeling dazed. It was just as well, I reckoned, that we would take a break at three, or my head might explode.
Not just my head either. My body was tingling all over. It wasn’t fair, I thought with a wry smile, that Brett came in and left me feeling hopelessly aroused, then left again. Every part of me tingled and throbbed and I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“Kerry?”
“Yes?” I called to Braden.
“Sorry, but can you come out and take over for a bit? Chef asked me to go to get more stock-cubes. We’re running out.”
“Sure,” I said. I drifted out to the front, still glowing.
The breakfast crowd was tailing off now, replaced by shoppers coming in for coffee. I took orders for a bewildering array of different coffees, and whatever cakes we had in the premises.
“Chef?” I called as I strode into the kitchen.
“Yes?” Harry was busy making flapjacks.
“We need another order of those, and two lattes.”
“Sure,” he called cheerfully. The kitchen smelled delicious and buttery, the air sizzling as he flipped the pan dexterously.
I went to wrestle the coffee-machine, still glowing.
When I came back, Harry passed me the plate of flapjacks. He smiled at me with a wistful expression. I frowned, feeling a little bewildered.
“Kerry,” he asked.
“Mm?”
I was arranging the tray as we spoke, looking down at my hands.
“You…” he coughed. “Um…you’re seeing someone?”
I looked at him with a frown. “I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, that sounds like a dumb answer.” Paused, thinking. “But, really, I don’t know yet. It’s all a bit… well… confusing right now.”
He nodded. “I see.”
I noticed he was sad and I wondered what was on his mind. I headed out to the front of house.
“What is it, Harry?” I asked when I returned to the kitchen. He had almost finished the second order and I started arranging the finished ones on the plate, heart thumping confusedly in my chest.
“It…” he sighed. “I guess… Kerry?”
“Yes?”
“You know, I really like you.”
My heart clenched. “Harry,” I said gently. “I… I didn’t know, no. You never told me. Why not?”
I was touched. I looked into that squarish, homely face with the big confused blue eyes, and I felt a stab of love that was all brotherly and friendship, but true nonetheless.
“I…” he looked at his big, strong-fingered hands. “I guess I never thought that you’d say yes,” he said. “I mean, if I asked you out or something. You’re such a beautiful girl, Kerry. And so nice.” He swallowed hard. “I assumed you were too much for me.”
I looked down. My throat, too, was tight with unsaid words. “Oh, Harry,” I said. “You should have told me.”
My heart ached. I had really had no idea. If Harry had told me that a few weeks ago—a week ago—things would have been different. Yes, he was plain and not really the type I used to go for. But he was a good man, a kind man. At this point I would have given my eye teeth for someone who was just kind, who treated me like a human being.
He laughed. “I guess I waited too long.”
I chuckled. I was crying now, too touched for words. “I guess,” I said. My throat was blocked with a big lump. I smiled at him. “Oh, Harry,” I said again.
He shook his head. There were tears in his eyes, too, though he wasn’t going to let me see that. “I am dumb, sometimes,” he said. He was smiling, but he was crying too. He sniffed surreptitiously and looked away. When he looked up again, he had managed to contain it. “I should have said.”
“Yes,” I said gently. “You should. You’re a great person, Harry. Whoever you end up with will be a really lucky person.”
He beamed. “You think so?”
I nodded. “I know so.”
“Thanks, Kerry,” he said. He looked down at his hands again, shy. “You’re nice.”
“I tell the truth,” I said.
He chuckled. “Not sure about that,” he sighed. “But thanks, anyway. I guess I should go and fix that bagel someone wanted?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “And I’d better take these out.”
I went through into the front of house with the tray, blinking surreptitiously to make the tears go away. I hoped no one would notice how wrecked I was.
When I got back in again, I could hear someone in the yard. Braden, coming back. That was a relief. I could at least take a moment’s break.
The door opened and he came in, complete in motorbike gear. I smiled at him.
“Hey!” he yelled cheerily. “Stock for Mr. Chef. And guess what? I got us something for lunch!” He produced a brown paper packet from Starbucks. I grinned.
“Thanks, Braden. You’re sweet.”
He looked from me to Harry. He frowned.
“Guys?” he asked. “What happened?”
Harry didn’t say anything. He focused on the pan in front of him, where he was actively frying onions. I sighed.
“Nothing, Braden. Really.”
He gave us both a funny look, then shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “How is it out there? Okay?”
“Pretty quiet,” I nodded. “You taking over?”
“Great,” he nodded. He had already changed out of his leather coat and helmet, and he fluffed his hair out and headed out to the front. I felt a need to go out round the back of the shop for a moment.
I just need some air.
The yard was quiet, the sun painting paleness in a pastel sky. I leaned against the wall in the shade and took a deep breath. Then another. The air smelled damp and fresh and cool. I felt better.
As if my life wasn’t confusing enough right now, I thought ironically. At the moment I had no idea what I felt about anyone or anything. All I needed was Harry confusing the hell out of me too.
My heart was full of conflicting emotions. Sorrow, tenderness, excitement. Confusion. I was really looking forward to dinner with Brett on Saturday. But there was something about his attitude that still bothered me. What was this thing he couldn’t tell me about? Why was he so secretive?
That was when I saw the man scaling the wall.
I stared, feeling unsure whether I had actually seen him at first. A head popped up over the yard wall at the back, saw me and disappeared.
The man must have his foot on the slight lip where the wall narrowed halfway up, his arms gripping the top. I heard the clatter as his booted feet hit the sidewalk. His intent had clearly been to climb over it.
“Hey!” I called. My heart thumped. I was scared, but I also felt angry. How dare he try and climb in here?
I ran toward the back of the yard, shouting. My ankle burned but I didn’t really notice the pain.
“Hey!” I yelled. “What the hell are you doing there?”
I heard someone scuff their foot on the wall as they moved, then the sound of feet, running along the avenue behind.
“Hey! You! Stop!”
I was halfway round the yard to the gate that led out to the street when I realized what a dangerous idea that was. What if there were more of them? And, if he was the sort of guy who tried to break in in daylight, he was probably also dangerous. What would I do if I caught him?
I stopped, trailing off and heading back toward the building. I looked up and saw Braden. He was standing on the top step outside the kitchen. My ankle was aching. I leaned on the wall to take the weight off it, hissing an in-breath.
“You okay?” he said. “Someone shouted.” His handsome face was distorted with worry.
“I’m fine,” I said wearily. “Just caught some guy trying to get in.”
“What?” He stared at me. “In here?” He looked incredulous. “What the heck?”
I nodded. “That’s what I also thought,” I said slowly. “I don’t know why anyone would do that.”
He chuckled. “Maybe he was after stock-cubes. I just bought the only boxes they had at the convenience store.”
When he looked at my face, he must have realized I was in no laughing mood. On top of all the confusion, the fright of seeing someone trying to burgle the place had left me shaky and drained. I could feel myself shivering and I held the wall for support a moment.
“Hell, Kerry,” he said, biting his lip in a worried manner. “You okay? Come inside. You need to sit down for a bit.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
I let Braden lead me inside and he pulled out a chair for me at the kitchen table. I sat down heavily. Dammit, but why couldn’t I stop shaking?
Harry was at my elbow, his voice low.
“Kerry? What happened? You okay?”
“Fine,” I murmured. I was shivering and I felt like I was going to pass out. I think it was the aftermath of the adrenalin or something, combined with the fact that I hadn’t eaten much breakfast.
“Make her some coffee,” Harry told Braden. “She needs something sugary.”
Braden nodded and then came back with a paper packet—the one he’d brought for lunch. It proved to contain chocolate brownies. The smell was delicious. He passed me one.
“Have one of these, Kerry,” he said gently. “It’ll make you shake less.”
I thanked him and took a mouthful. It did help me to feel a bit stronger. As I chewed and let my body settle back to some sort of sensible calm, I listened to Braden telling Harry what had happened.
“She said she saw someone breaking in, Chef,” he said.
“What?” Harry said quietly. Then, frowning at Braden, “will you just check on front of house? Kerry needs some space, hey?”
He nodded and went back into the front.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Harry. He produced a cappuccino from the machine and put it at my elbow.
“You just sit there,” he said. “I’ll call the cops or something.”
“No point,” I said dully. “He’s long gone now. Besides, it’s not like he did anything.”
“Maybe he was just looking for somewhere to sleep,” Harry said fairly. “Like, a homeless person or something.”
I frowned. “I don’t know, Harry,” I said. “I’d like to think so.”
He nodded and went back to his work. “Well, if the guy comes back, we’ll call the cops. Maybe we’d do well to keep the door locked for a while, though,” he added, indicating the back door of the kitchen.
“Good idea,” I said. I drank some coffee—he was right, it did make me feel a bit better—and went to the door to lock it.
When I’d done that, I went to check my face in the mirror and head out to the front again. I thought about the incident as I did so. What was it that had worried me so much about it? I wasn’t sure, exactly.
So, a guy looked over the back fence. There’s no big deal about that.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t just the fence that had bothered me. It wasn’t the act of looking over the fence in itself. It was how he was looking.
I shivered. There had been a bad intent there—the way he’d looked around, furtively. And the way he’d looked straight at me. If he’d been there just to look around, he would have got a fright if he saw someone watching him. But he hadn’t looked scared.
He’d run away, but only after I called out.
Why was he there?
“Come on, Kerry,” I muttered as I went back to the kitchen. “He was just casing the place. A would-be thief or something.”
I was fairly sure that was what it was—a guy hoping to steal anything we’d left out in the yard, or maybe checking to see if there was a window open.
It felt wrong, though. Somewhere in me I had a sense that he was there to do damage. I just didn’t know what.
“Okay,” Braden said, coming back. “We need two cappuccinos and a pair of espressos.”
“Great”, I nodded. It was my job to work the coffee-machine, for the weird fact that I tended to get better results out of it than anyone else did. Personally, I believed that was because I’d taken the time to read the manual, but the other two held that I pacified it in some way.
As I fiddled with the nozzle—it had gone skew again—I tried to rationalize what I had seen. I came to the conclusion that it was all Brett’s secretiveness that was getting to me.
I’m starting to get too suspicious, that’s all.
I made the cappuccinos and handed them to Braden.
“Hell, Kerry,” he said, looking impressed. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Magic,” I said.
He laughed.
I went back to the table to sit down. My ankle was starting to throb—I must have strained it when I ran after the hopeful burglar. I sat down and rubbed it, wincing. I couldn’t help but see the funny side.
“I don’t know what I thought I’d do when I caught him,” I said aloud.
“You chased him?” Harry sounded astonished.
“Yeah!” I laughed.
“Hell,” he said. “That’s quite wild. You should be careful, though,” he admonished gently. “What if he’d been armed or something?”
“Mm,” I nodded. “It was a bit dumb, I guess.”
“No,” he smiled fondly. “It’s brave. But please don’t chase him if he comes back? Call someone else?”
I smiled fondly. “Oh, Harry,” I said. “You shouldn’t care so much about me.”
He chuckled. “I do.”
As he went back to the stove, a delicious scent of deep-fried onion-rings coming out of the pans, I shook my head wearily. I really did have the daftest taste sometimes. Here I was, falling in love with a guy who was acting all weird, while right here, all along, had been a guy who really cared for me, and I was turning my back on him? What was my story?
I took my phone out to check the time. I noticed a message and went to read it. It was from my friend Joanna. I replied and then gave into temptation.
I sent a quick one-liner to the man who had been on my mind all morning.
Looking forward to tomorrow.
I hadn’t expected a reply, but an instant later one came through.
Yes.
I grinned. Maybe I wasn’t so silly after all, in my taste. I found myself smiling all that day.
Yes, I was looking forward to tomorrow.