Will looked so eager that Kenna couldn't refuse. Besides, now that she had worked herself up when she was scanning the crowd, she thought some company for a while longer would be a good distraction. "That would be lovely," Kenna said as she and Will locked eyes. He smiled at her, showing the dimple in his cheek. Then he gently placed his hand at the small of her back and applied slight pressure to move her in the direction of the car.
Car wouldn't be the proper term for the vehicle she approached. It was shiny and new with a huge metal grill. As she looked at the Ford F-250 truck, she was very glad she had decided on pants. She wasn't entirely sure how she could gracefully climb into the truck if she had worn a skirt.
Will's hand dropped from the small of her back and reached around her to open the door. He held out his hand and helped her in the cab just as if she were getting into a carriage in Regency England, a smile tugging on her lips at the thought. She took in the clean interior with lots of knobs and the soft leather seats. She was surprised to find the luxury of the interior was almost equal to that of her BMW. It just all appeared larger, especially the man who climbed in with the natural grace of getting in and out of a pickup for his whole life. She certainly didn't have anything like him in her BMW.
Will started the truck, angled out of the barn area and headed toward Keeneston Road. Will turned and asked her, "What is your career plan here? I thought I should warn you that the mayor’s nephew, Wayne Givens, is being pushed to take the spot. He’s sitting for the bar for the third time next month. Are you signed up to take the bar exam?"
"Yes, I signed up before I came down, with the hopes of getting the job and needing to pass the Kentucky portion. Luckily, I don't have to take both parts again as I already passed the federal section when I took the exam three years ago now. I'll have a lot of studying to do, but first I have to get the job." She turned her head and focused out the window.
"And, if you don't get it?" he asked softly.
"Well, if I don't get it, then I'll start looking at other states. Probably move out West some place." She opened her mouth, wanting to say more, but then closed it. They sat in companionable silence for another couple of minutes until they arrived downtown.
"We're going to the Blossom Cafe," Will said as he pointed to the cafe across the street from the old courthouse. Standing beside the courthouse was an old church; both had historical markers. As Kenna waited for Will to come around to open her door, she saw both were built in the late 1700s. It looked like the stained-glass rose window over the massive wood double doors of the church was original. The four-story courthouse was built with Kentucky limestone and framed by massive white pillars along the street side main entrance. A single massive chandelier hung directly over the front doors, casting a warm glow over the entranceway. Two statues stood out front, a white marble statue of Lady Justice astride a massive horse and a monument to the local heroes listed as POWs and MIAs from foreign wars. It was entirely different from the imposing Greek Parthenon-like courthouse in New York. The
courthouse seemed welcoming instead of intimidating. Flowers and plants surrounded it, compared to the concrete jungle of the big city. She was still staring at the courthouse when Will opened the door and took her hand. His hand was warm and slightly callused from the work on the farm. His grip was gentle, yet full of contained power. Will helped her down from the truck and moved her hand to the crook of his arm as he escorted her across the street to the Blossom Cafe.
Blossom Cafe stood on Main Street in a historical building, three stories high with tall, arching windows painted off-white. Beneath each window was a box filled with flowers, potted plants, and small trees with twinkling lights. The whole first floor was open to Main Street by giant plate glass windows. Inside was awash in light. Booths with tablecloths covered in glass and tables with mismatched chairs gave the cafe a clean, down-home feel.
Will opened the front door and ushered Kenna in. An elderly lady looked up from where she was chatting at a table and waved. Will waved back and pointed Kenna to an open booth in the back. As they walked past the packed tables, talk of the patrons quieted and then grew even louder as soon as Kenna and Will sat down. An elderly woman bustled over. Eyes twinkling and notepad at the ready, she stopped in front of the table. Her feet, encased in bright white orthopedic shoes, were practically dancing with excitement. She was small, barely over five feet, but she had the look of strength about her. Kenna was pretty sure if Miss Daisy were walking the streets of New York, a mugger would think she was easy pickings, only to be thumped by a purse and grabbed by the ear for a lecture.