Kenya picked up the phone while her mother let herself out. She squashed the regret that rose. There was no space for that when so many other emotions filled the room.
Dedra had given her a heads-up that Evelyn would call after Kenya had told Dedra she wouldn’t be in today. She hadn’t given a good reason. There was no way to explain a pain deeper than her ankle, a setback worse than losing weeks of full mobility.
Dedra had sounded disappointed and maybe even frustrated, but she agreed to update Evelyn and have her call when she was ready.
“Well, Kenya, you promised me the goods.” Evelyn didn’t waste time on preliminaries. “And I am ready for it. Tell me what you have.”
Kenya sniffed. Blasted eyes! Why were they leaking so often lately? Every barrier she’d had to keep her safe had been pummeled.
“I have nothing.” She barely breathed.
“What did you say? Speak up, Kenya. I can’t hear you.”
“I said”—Kenya inhaled enough air to hopefully suppress her tears, her voice shuddering with effort—“I have nothing, Evelyn. I thought ... I have nothing to give you. I don’t have a vendor for the Bellon Group.”
She couldn’t even see the images she’d dreamed up anymore.
“That’s a shame.” Evelyn’s tone didn’t change, but her exasperation was palpable. And the silence after, rife with what felt like disgust. “Well, Stewart, this is unfortunate. I was hoping that we would be able to see a turn, but things have continued to unravel, and quite rapidly. If I can’t count on you to be capable, then there are changes I will have to make. You know this, right?”
Kenya didn’t want to even consider it, but she said yes anyway.
“I’ll be in touch, but until then, I expect you to come to the tour when it starts next Thursday with exceptional support and engagement. Vance may be the one running point on this, but you are still a member of his team.”
“I understand. I will be there.”
Kenya placed the phone down as Evelyn clicked off.
The North Alabama Investors’ Tour that she’d campaigned for, organized, and promoted for the past two years would be run by someone who didn’t even care about the people it impacted. Hope Springs was just an inconsequential little village to Vance. He didn’t realize how much potential it had and how it was positioned to blossom. Yet he would have the final say over her when everything started. He would be the one to pivot and adjust as needed. And he would be the one to move up as the creative director, not because he was the best for the job but because she wasn’t anymore.
“I’m so ashamed,” Kenya wailed.
The words had wrung out of her soul, pulling with them chunks of every burrowing word and hurt over the years. Every brick of protection she’d placed around her heart to keep her from crumbling seemed to be gone.
She was the little girl asked to read in front of the class, stumbling through her words.
She was the one who couldn’t spell her last name correctly until her cousin helped her in the fourth grade.
Once again, the sting of rejection pierced her like it did when she was accused of trying to get all the attention at summer camp because she asked so many questions and came up with too many creative ideas. But it was really because she didn’t understand every instruction.
She never understood.
The only thing that came easily to her was physical activity.
And the threat of not being able to participate in sports when she was in high school because of her grades had almost demolished her. But when she discovered that she could put tangible projects and experiences together from scraps, just like she’d learn to survive with scraps of understanding, she’d soared.
And now those wings had let her down.
30
THE BEGINNINGof the investors’ tour started off well, considering the awfulness of the couple weeks since the wedding. The group made up of corporate investors, franchise owners, and organizational reps had arrived for their initial dinner on Thursday night eager to hear about the burgeoning opportunities in Hope Springs and beyond. They heard about the potential for partnering with new hotels, shopping experiences, master-planned communities, and start-up restaurants. Now after two days of strategic meetings, they were headed out on a mild-weathered Saturday to visit some historic sites before they finished with dinner at the Ledges Country Club.
Even Vance was more polite than usual. Perhaps Kenya’s diminished state declawed him. Yet it had still been hard to shake her melancholy.
After lunch and a walk around Hope Springs Park with the attendees, she entered the waiting charter bus early, hiding in her middle-row seat.
“You’ve done a great job, dear.”
A sweet voice broke into Kenya’s thoughts. She turned away from staring out the window to find the pleasant face of the woman she’d been drawn to the whole weekend.
