I took my time getting ready, a smile returning to my lips every time I thought of him, but by the time I headed to Village Hall, I was practically jogging, so anxious to see him again.
From the lobby through the back door, Village Hall was usually bustling during the Pancake Breakfast, but the second I walked through the doors of the front entrance, I knew something was off. I could hear the clanking of dishes in the cafeteria beyond and smell bacon and maple syrup, but the typical chorus of gabbing friends was absent from the lobby.
Kennedy and his parents were standing over at the mural, contemplating it in silence. My gaze shifted from them to the chalk mural and my breath caught.
“They found it when they opened the hall this morning,” Kennedy said softly. “We’ll figure out who did it.”
I felt arms come around me and smelled the cloying vanilla of Mrs. Hale’s perfume. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It’s so terrible.”
Yellow police tape cordoned off the area in front of the defaced chalk mural. Mom’s face barely recognizable with the B of “WANNABE” smudged across the portrait.
“Kennedy,” Mrs. Hale said as she took her son’s arm. “Take Bree into the cafeteria. Looking at this is just going to upset her.”
I couldn’t make my mouth form words to object. I wanted to tell her it didn’t matter. I wasn’t upset. But I’d grown up seeing my mom’s face in Village Hall. The Hales were on one side of the lobby, my parents on the other, to commemorate the families who’d funded the community gathering place. Even when she’d left town, she’d still been here. But someone had wiped her out of my life here with nothing but the swipe of a finger.
Kennedy ushered me to a table in the cafeteria, and before I realized he’d left, he was returning with a mug of coffee. Everyone was staring at me, and the pity on their faces made me feel so ridiculous. It was a stupid chalk mural. This wasn’t the first time it had been smudged; it was just the first time the damage had felt malicious.
“Drink.” Kennedy nudged the mug toward me, and the scent of peppermint hit my nose. Friends would bring you a cup of coffee while you got your bearings. Real friends would spike said coffee with peppermint schnapps.
With a shaky smile, I took a healthy swallow, not even caring when the hot liquid scorched my tongue. Next he brought me two plates piled high with pancakes and bacon. He set a plate in front of me, and when I didn’t touch it, he stabbed a piece of pancake with his fork and offered it to me. I took the bite obediently but shook my head when he offered a second.
We sat in silence for a minute, and I sipped at my coffee, waiting for the alcohol to hit my system, but there wasn’t enough to give me a buzz, sadly.
“It was probably just some stupid kids, Bree. Don’t let it get to you.”
“I’m fine,” I managed finally. “It’s no big deal.” But it was a big deal. When Mom came to town, she was going to see that and then she’d never want to come back. Why did her wanting to be here matter so much to me anyway?
I pushed my pancakes around on my plate, but my appetite from this morning had vanished completely.
“You can fix it, can’t you?”
I snapped my head up so fast that I jerked my fork and a pancake went flying off my plate. “What?”
“Come on, Bree. You have more talent than anyone I’ve ever met. You can fix it.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. If I got it done today, would she find out about it when she arrived tonight? “Maybe,” I whispered. “Yeah, maybe I could.”
He grinned, and my heart did acrobatics in my chest just because that dimple was aimed at me. “That’s my girl.” He patted my hand and stood. “You can still make it to lunch today?” The vulnerability in his eyes made me forget the mural for a few beats. I was worried about some smudged chalk, and Kennedy was looking at a day where he was going to disappoint the hell out of his father.
“I’ll be there, Kennedy.”
“You’re the best. I’ll catch you in a few, okay?” He smiled and winked at me, but there was no kiss, no hug, no public display of our new relationship before he was walking away, heading toward his father and his duties as heir Hale.
“You want any more coffee?”
I looked away from Kennedy’s retreating form to see Maya standing at my table a pot of coffee. “Yes, please.”
“I’m sorry about the mural,” she whispered. “I guess this will be the first year you’ll be glad when your mom doesn’t show up like she promised.”
“She’s coming this year,” I defended. “She’ll be here tonight. In time for the art exhibition.”