019. hold onto this lullaby even when the musics gone.
When Drew hesitated, she realized she wasn’t sure what she would have said to answer that question herself. What had been their first date? The first night she knew she had some sort of feelings for him had certainly been the night at the bar playing darts. They had crossed a proverbial line that night even if they hadn’t touched in a crossing-lines sort of way. But that hadn’t been a date. When he finally spoke, talking about how blown away he’d been when he picked her up for the gala, she rolled her eyes. He wasn’t laying it on thick or being unreasonable but she couldn’t stop herself. That was really their first date. Despite the fact that he’d asked her by saying that it would save him the trouble of finding a date, they’d most certainly been on a date that evening.
Her mother ooh’d dramatically after Drew started explaining how their feelings took over their lives. Kennedy stood up and dropped the magazine onto the couch. “He’s right, momma. He was a complete and total jackass that morning in the coffee shop.” She smirked over at Drew as she stepped toward him. She wrapped one arm around his waist and pressed her lips to his jawline — he was too damn tall for her to reach from here without stepping on her tiptoes.
“Us Marshall girls seem to have a thing for the jackass type…” A not-so-subtle dig at her father but she was still beaming as she spoke. She started scooping the ice cream onto the plates, already donning a large slice of pie. “Though I think Drew seems like a certifiable gentleman, Ken…be nice!”
Kennedy nodded. “I am extremely nice. Don’t you worry.”
“Oh, I know. Your father had some choice words to use when he called me a few weeks back…”
“Dad saw nothing. It’s all conjecture.”
Cherry lifted her hands, scoop still in her right, and feigned defense. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“When’s he getting in?”
Cherry pressed her lips together and continued working, pointedly ignoring the question.
“Mom.” Kennedy loosened her grip on Drew’s waist and leaned forward onto the kitchen island.
“Hmm?”
“Dad. When is he getting in?”
She shrugged and lifted a plate to Drew. “Oh, you know your father. Always got something going on…”
“He’s not coming? Are you kidding me? God, even in death, Grandma Mae couldn’t get the time of day with him.” She rested her face in her hands and scoffed, an anger bubbling on the surface not even apple pie and ice cream could soothe.
His nerves were definitely out of whack, to say the least, but it didn’t last long once Kennedy was right there by his side again. It made him smile – especially when she kissed him; he couldn’t help it. Even if she did call him a jackass. He certainly deserved it, because he really was. But, his smile slightly faded when her mother commented back on the jackass part. Obviously, he knew she was talking about Kennedy’s father; and although he agreed he could be a jerk, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad that her mother felt that way about her children’s father.
Just that small moment, though, that’s all it was – small. Any pity he felt for him faded when she mentioned he wasn’t even coming to the funeral. Drew knew it was making Kennedy’s blood boil, and in turn, caused his to as well. It was almost as if her anger radiated onto him, causing the same reaction she was having.
The pie was calling his name, and he couldn’t bring himself not to try it. Not just because it smelled delicious, but because he was pretty hungry. So, instead of injecting himself into the conversation he knew was going to turn tense very quickly, he took a medium sized bite and took his time getting it down his esophagus from his mouth. That was the best way to shut him up – well, one of them. At least, for a little while. Once he swallowed, Drew wrapped his arm around Kennedy’s shoulders, pulling her a little bit closer to him. Honestly, he probably didn’t have to say anything – he just wanted to let her know he was there for her. She knew that – at least, he assumed she did. And, he probably should have kept his mouth closed, but he had to try to make her feel a little better. ‘Maybe he’s just grieving differently. I mean, everyone grieves differently, right? Some people just can’t face death head on. I’m hoping, for your sake, and your grandmother’s, that that’s the case. I mean, it’s possible, right?’