Coming Home for Christmas by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online Page B

what it says for her to believe she has enough friends that they would fill up three days of a calendar. I don’t know of anyone short of a Hollywood celebrity who could have that sort of a following.”
    What had made him so bitter? Kenzie wondered. There had to be something else at work here, not just an estrangement between a mother and her son. Had Amy’s death been the trigger?
    â€œOh, I don’t know,” she told him. “I’d like to think that people who touch other people’s lives on a regular basis might get that kind of a send-off when their time comes. Your mother obviously meant a lot to many people.”
    Keith studied her for a moment before turning away and going to his car.
    This woman his agent had recommended was definitely a Pollyanna type, he thought disparagingly. Just his luck. The last person he wanted in his life right now was Pollyanna.
    He made an attempt to set her straight, admittedly more for his sake than hers. There was just so much cheerfulness and optimism he could put up with listening to, and he was past his limit.
    â€œPeople aren’t nearly as nice as you seem to think they are,” he told her.
    â€œAnd,” Kenzie interjected, “they’re not nearly as evil, self-centered and hot-tempered as you seem to think they are.” The look she gave him said they were at a stalemate and for now, she was willing to let it go at that.
    â€œBetter safe than sorry,” he pointed out.
    She pressed her lips together, aware that since he was the client and she was in essence working for him, she should just drop this.
    And she did.
    For about five seconds.
    â€œBeing safe is highly overrated,” she told him.
    Kenzie paused for a moment, back to debating whether or not to reveal who she was. Initially, she’d decided not to mention it, but as things began to progress, she’d gotten more and more tempted to let him in on the truth.
    She decided to begin slowly and see where this went. “You know, it’s okay for you to grieve. People will understand.”
    â€œWhat they won’t understand is
not
grieving,” he pointed out, then shrugged as he added, “But, well, you can’t show what you don’t feel, right?”
    â€œI don’t believe that,” she told him quietly. His comment didn’t jibe with what she knew about him, or had once known, at any rate.
    Keith was about to tell her that he didn’t care what she believed or didn’t believe. But he never got the chance, because she went on to say with more conviction than he felt she should exhibit, “Your mother was a very special lady.”
    Keith sorely disliked people preaching on things they couldn’t possibly have any idea about. “And you came to this conclusion how?” he demanded. “By standing and looking at her for a total of, oh, about sixty seconds?”
    â€œNo, it was a lot longer than that.”
    There was contempt in his eyes. “Maybe you’d better learn how to tell time.”
    Okay, now she had to tell him the rest of it, Kenzie decided. The moment she’d recognized him and realized who he was, she’d wavered on whether or not to tell him right off the bat. But he’d been so removed, so distant, she’d decided there was no point in saying anything. He might even be suspicious why she’d bring this into their dealings. But now she didn’t see how she could avoid it.
    â€œI don’t have any trouble telling time,” she informed him.
    Keith ushered her impatiently over to the far edge of the sidewalk, away from the funeral home’s entrance. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
    She took a breath before beginning, then plunged in. She began with the most obvious line. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
    â€œRemember you?” Keith repeated, confused. Okay, something familiar about her had been nagging at him, but she had no way of