Protecting Kendra

Chapter 8 - Kendra

I have a theory that it is impossible to be in a bad mood while eating tacos. I don't remember a time when I was not instantly happy after taking that first bite. We still have an hour to kill, so I take my time enjoying them. I hope it puts me in a good enough mood, so I can hold it together while talking to Emily's mother. I know this will be the hardest interview to be in. I always cry when I hear a parent talking about their children on crime podcasts. I know it must be more difficult to hear in person. At least Paxton can take over if I start to feel choked up. I know the mother would understand, and probably appreciate the empathy towards her daughter, but I don't want to cause her to start crying as well.

“I really appreciate you going with me today. How did you manage to get off work with hardly any notice? Aren’t they really strict?” I can’t remember one time they let him off work without him asking at least a month in advance. “Uh, I actually had the week off so it worked out perfectly.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “If you’re off for the week, why am I still stuck working out? We could be doing something fun instead.” His answer had better be good. He shrugged. “I was going to go to the gym anyway, and I like your company.” I can’t tell if he was being serious or just trying to get out of hot water. “My company elsewhere would have been more fun.” I muttered quietly, but he still heard. “You do realize if I didn’t ask to keep that part during my time off, they would have scheduled a fill in to train you.” Okay, that reason was pretty good. I still gave him a look though. He may have won, but I don’t have to be happy about it. His reaction showed pride in me realizing that he was right.

“So what do you have us doing this evening, more cardio?” I really hope it’s anything but cardio. “Only enough to help warm up. After that, we’ll be working on arms.” That doesn’t sound too bad. I actually wanted to work on my arm strength. If I only allowed myself to buy what I could carry up the stairs in one trip, it would really help out. I’m tired of frequent trips to the store.

My phone lit up on the table, catching my attention. I saw Margaret’s name flash across the screen, so I opened it up. “Margaret said that she had gone home early, so we could come by anytime now.” I looked up to Paxton after I finished reading it. Paxton wiped his face with his napkin and started to pick up our table. He never leaves a restaurant table a mess. I’ve always admired him for that. Always looking for a way to make someone’s day a little easier. “Alright, let’s go.” He stood at the booth and waited for me to get to my feet. When I reached his side, he reached his hand on the small of my back and pushed me gently forward. It’s subtle enough that his hand never leaves my back. I’m trying to remember what the first questions were that I wanted to ask, but all I can think about is the warmth radiating off his hand. I don’t understand how one person can both be the one that clears your head the best, and makes it the messiest. He didn't take his hand off until we reached the counter to pay. I instantly missed it.

I hate that Tori is right. I am holding on to a relationship that was never there, and can never happen. This is Paxton's way of alerting me of situations and guiding me out without alerting the person that he's aware of them. He does it often so that it feels like a natural occurrence. If he only does this when there is danger, I will definitely give it away by looking frightened. My heart still holds on to the hope that he does it because he wants to. How can I feel the tie so strongly if he's not holding on to the other end? I suppose it would still feel as strong if he was resisting my attempt to bring him closer. I picture a knot in the middle of a rope getting tighter and tighter until it snaps. I winced at the mental image. "Yes, the food was delicious as always." I heard Paxton's answer and turned my head to nod in agreement. "Wonderful! I'm glad to hear that." The lady handed over a receipt for Paxton to sign. "I hope you both enjoy the rest of your day." She said with a smile after the receipt was handed back to her. We both said thank you and returned the wish before we turned to the door to leave. This has always been a pleasant place to eat. I don't know why they don't have more business. It is nice to not have to wait for a table every time I come here though.

"What's going through your head?" Paxton asked once we were outside. I gave him a questioning look. "You just look like you're retreating inside yourself." There was no way I was going to tell him what I had just been thinking about, so tell him what was going on in my head earlier. "I'm just thinking of Margaret and what she is going through. I know the pain that accompanies wishing for more time with someone. I can't imagine the pain of knowing that it may have already run out. I can't imagine getting your hope back just to have it taken away again. It must feel like hearing the news for the first time each time the cycle repeats." We reached the truck and stood still by the tail gate. I can tell that he's looking down at me, but I can't bring myself to meet his gaze. There was too much behind my eyes that I did not want him to see. "That's exactly why you are perfect for this. Any journalist can write an article about a missing person. People read them every day, pray they are found, and continue on with their day. They may try to look for the person while they're out, but get the details confused in a crowded room. Your understanding will help leave an impression that they can't stop thinking about it. Lean on that." I nod my head and risk looking up. I attempted a smile and tilted my head towards the truck. "Come on. She's waiting for us."