Chapter Twenty-Four

K endall raised his fist to knock on the blue door but froze before his hand could connect with the wood. The paint color reminded him of the silk tie he'd found looped around his bedpost; the same one he'd trailed over his morning wood and used to masturbate while thinking about Ridge. He rapped his knuckles against the smooth panel and forced his mind to pick a subject that wouldn't cause a reaction that would shock his mother.

The breakfast invitation from Rebecca had been a pleasant surprise, and he'd readily accepted. It felt like the second chance he'd longed for but never dreamed would come. Hope and fear were the kissing cousins of emotions wreaking havoc on his heart. Individually, the reactions were necessary for survival, but together…they didn't mesh. Afraid to hope . Who wanted that? Certainly not Kendall, but it was the latest quagmire he found himself in.

The boldly painted door suddenly swung open, giving him his most significant surprise of the day. "I feel like I've stepped through time," he said, raking his gaze over Rebecca. She wore white, wide-leg beachcombers, a turquoise tank top, and a pair of flip-flops. She'd pulled her hair into a high ponytail and greeted him sans makeup. And her smile…Kendall couldn't recall the last time he'd seen a genuine expression of joy on her face.

"What I wouldn't give for a time machine about now," she replied, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I would change so much." Rebecca stepped aside so he could come inside.

Adelaide's home was as warm as he'd expected. Kendall noted the earthy tones in the furniture fabrics and wall treatments, which she'd accented with jewel tones in her decorations and area rugs. Kendall sniffed the air appreciatively, breathing in the cinnamon and vanilla he always associated with Adelaide.

"This must be what heaven smells like," he said. "Is Adelaide making French toast?"

"Of course. It's your favorite. Adelaide has it in the warmer while we finish cooking the rest of the food." We? His mother hadn't cooked in ages.

Another welcome aroma greeted Kendall's nose and his mouth watered. "Bacon?"

Rebecca nodded. "Extra crispy, just like you like it." She smiled again, and Kendall could no longer keep his thoughts to himself.

"It's been nearly two decades since I've seen you smile so effortlessly, and suddenly I see it twice in two minutes."

"Odd, isn't it?" she asked. "My world has turned completely upside down. I have no money, home, or even clothes to call my own, but I've never been happier. I feel like I've escaped a prison, even though it was one of my own choosing."

Kendall shook his head. "No one chooses to be brainwashed, bullied, and abused. You didn't sign up for any of that when you agreed to marry Stan."

"No, but I should've been wiser. I can't even claim I was blindsided." She snorted. "Did I really expect Stan to be faithful to his clients and honest with the IRS when he couldn't show me the same courtesy?" Her glow dimmed before his eyes.

Eager to get it back, Kendall forced down his shields and reached for her hands. "What-ifs won't get you anywhere. Let's start asking what next instead, okay?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. "What next. I like it."

"Good."

"Breakfast seems like a good starting point, right?" she asked.

Kendall sniffed the air appreciatively again. "The best."

He followed his mom into the kitchen where Adelaide was busy creating culinary magic. She glanced up when they entered and beckoned Kendall to her for a hug.

"My boy," she said, patting his back.

"Hi, Adelaide."

Rebecca's cell phone rang, and she excused herself and stepped out of the room to take the call. He stared after her for a few seconds, wondering who was calling her.

"She was waiting on a call from your lawyer friend," Adelaide said, reading his mind. "She's much stronger this time."

Kendall met Adelaide's sincere gaze. "Thank you so much for taking such good care of my mom. We'll never be able to thank you for your kindness."

"You guys can thank me by socking it to Stanton Burkhart," Adelaide said, flipping the bacon.

"We'll give it our best shot." Kendall walked over to the counter where an open carton of eggs sat next to a bowl. "Want me to crack some eggs?"

"Nope."

"Why not? You taught me how to do it without getting shells in the bowl."

Adelaide laughed. "Yes, and now I'm teaching your mother. She wants to make the scrambled eggs."

"I'm back," Rebecca said as she breezed through the door. She shooed Kendall away from the bowl and lifted an egg. "Chet sends his best, by the way."

Unsure how to respond, Kendall said, "That's nice."

"Give it a good whack against the edge of the bowl," Adelaide said when Rebecca was in position. "You want a nice clean break to prevent the shell from falling in."

Rebecca tapped the egg against the edge, barely producing a crack. She gave Kendall a sheepish grin.

"Pretend it's Stan's face," he said.

On her second attempt, she cracked the egg so hard the shell split in two, and most of the egg landed on the counter and not in the bowl. "Oops. Looks like I have a lot of rage."

"Justifiably so," Kendall said, then pointed to the bowl. "But no shells."

Rebecca laughed and tried again. The third time was a charm, and she whooped in celebration when the egg landed cleanly in the bowl. "Two down and…" She looked to Adelaide.

"Four to go."

Kendall helped himself to a cup of coffee while Adelaide and Rebecca worked together. His mom was surprised to hear Adelaide whisked in a splash of heavy cream.

Kendall sipped from his mug. "Makes them extra fluffy."

A few minutes later, they made their plates and carried them over to the small dinette tucked into the corner. The tabletop was a mosaic of bold red, blue, green, and yellow tiles. The four wooden chairs surrounding the table were painted in matching hues. Sunlight filtered in through the windows, making the space even cozier.

As always, the French toast was perfection, but Kendall stopped noticing the flavors after the first bite or two. He couldn't take his eyes off his mother as she chatted over the shared meal. Rebecca seemed too composed and calm about her situation. Decades of being Stanton Burkhart's wife had indeed taught her to suppress her feelings, but she wasn't in his home anymore. She was with her son and…What exactly was her relationship with Adelaide?

Kendall shifted his attention to the housekeeper he loved like family. His mother and Adelaide had always had a positive working relationship, but opening up her home to her former boss? That seemed above and beyond even for someone as kind as Adelaide. Were they friends? Were they…more?

A soft snort pulled him from his reverie. Kendall glanced over and caught Rebecca smiling. She gently elbowed Adelaide to get her attention. "He thinks we're lovers."

Adelaide's eyes widened seconds before she lapsed into girlish giggles.

Rebecca joined her and said, "You're not doing anything to disabuse him of the notion."

"A woman like your mother attracted to someone like me?" Adelaide said. "That's preposterous."

Rebecca sobered immediately. "Why wouldn't I be? You're a beautiful woman with a kind heart and loving nature. I'd be lucky to win your affection."

Adelaide placed her hand on Rebecca's shoulder and said, "You're too kind." Then she looked at Kendall. "There's nothing but friendship between us, sweetheart."

"Damn," Kendall said.

Rebecca forked another bite of fluffy eggs into her mouth and chewed. "I can see we need to build up Adelaide's self-confidence."

"I'm in," he said.

Adelaide dismissed them with a wave of her dainty hand. "I'm too old for any kind of makeover."

"Nonsense," Rebecca said at the same time Kendall blurted out, "Bullshit."

Adelaide giggled harder and shook her head.

"You're helping me to become more self-sufficient. I think it's only fair I help boost your self-esteem." Rebecca chuckled. "But maybe my current circumstances nullify that ability."

Adelaide patted her hand. "You're fiercer than you realize. I'm proud of you."

His mother nodded and turned her hand to squeeze Adelaide's. A beat later, her gaze swung back to him. "Kendall has romance on the brain, so he's projecting it onto everyone else."

Adelaide lowered her fork and narrowed her eyes. "Is that so? Who is he, and when do I get to meet him?"

Kendall dropped his head as heat infused his cheeks. He forked a bite of eggs into his mouth as an excuse not to answer. The ladies saw his tactic for what it was and laughed.

"It's a bit complicated right now," Rebecca said. "I think Kendall's trying to get a feel for where things are going."

Kendall raised his head and smiled to show his appreciation. Rebecca reached across the table and patted his hand.

"You're still young," Adelaide said. "Take all the time you need."

Time . How much longer before Ridge's urge to roam kicked in? Kendall should slow things down instead of hurtling himself toward heartbreak at breakneck speed.

"Kendall," his mom said, her voice as soft as a kitten.

He looked up and caught her watching him closely.

"I know it's hard to believe right now, but sometimes you just need to have faith things will work out as they're intended," she said.

Kendall inhaled a deep, shaky breath and released it slowly. "You're right. The world doesn't revolve around my every whim and fancy." Could it revolve around just one , though?

After breakfast, Kendall and his mom insisted on cleaning up. Adelaide argued with them until she realized she was wasting her breath.

"Fine. I'll just go read my new book."

Once alone, Kendall bumped his hip against Rebecca's at the kitchen sink. "What was the call from Chet about?" He shoved his hand beneath the suds and scrubbed the egg skillet. Rebecca had forgotten to hit it with cooking spray, so it was a bit of a mess.

"There was a scheduling conflict, and he wanted to personally apologize for the inconvenience and work out a new time for us to meet." She nudged Kendall with her elbow. "He speaks very highly of you, and it sounds like the office isn't running as smoothly with you gone."

Kendall pulled the skillet from the soapy water and closely inspected his work. Satisfied, he rinsed the pan and handed it to his mother to dry before moving on to a platter. "He'll adjust. Chet isn't used to someone telling him no." Kendall had declined one of Chet's offers outright and avoided the other. "When's your appointment?"

Rebecca glanced up from her task. "Friday at one."

"I'll be there."

She heaved a sigh. "Oh, good."

"What are your plans for the day?" he asked.

"Well, I was hoping I could talk you into helping me look through the classifieds for a suitable job and maybe help me pick out an interview outfit. There's a great consignment shop in the neighborhood." She chuckled. "I bet they still have some of the pieces I donated last month."

"Let me buy you something new."

Rebecca stored the dried dish before facing him once more. "I appreciate your offer more than you'll ever realize. I don't want to be Rebecca Burkhart anymore, so I'm trying to do the exact opposite of what she'd choose."

"Who do you want to be?"

His mother's eyes filled with tears. "Becca Blakemore. Do you remember her?"

A lump of emotion lodged in Kendall's throat, making it impossible to respond at first. He nodded until the tightness dissipated. "She was the best. I really miss her."

Rebecca patted his cheek. "Me too. I say we coax her out of hiding."

"Definitely."

"Becca loved consignment shop bargains, so I thought it would be a great place to start."

"I remember going to the Goodwill stores in the wealthier cities," Kendall said, smiling at the memory.

"I dressed you like a little prince for a few dollars."

They returned to the dinette when they finished cleaning the kitchen and looked through the job postings. Kendall's gaze landed on an ad for a receptionist at a thriving private investigator's office.

He circled the ad, then tapped it with the pen. "Baxter and Jacobs. I know one of the partners, Rocky Jacobs. I could get you—"

His mom covered his hand to cut him off. "I need to do this on my own. I'll apply just like everyone else. Think you can help me jazz up my résumé?"

"Of course."

They spent an hour on Adelaide's laptop creating a résumé before sending it to Baxter and Jacobs as well as a few other promising listings they'd found. Afterward, the pair headed out on foot to the consignment shop Rebecca wanted to check out.

"A portion of the proceeds goes to the women's shelter," she told him. "And since I sat on the board for the shelter, I know the shop's claim isn't just window dressing."

"That's good to know."

Rebecca stopped suddenly half a block away from the shop. "Do you think anyone will recognize me?"

The Burkhart-Jones bust had topped the headlines ever since the raid, but the photo of his mother the media was splashing around looked nothing like the woman standing in front of him.

"No way."

She sighed in relief, and they continued down the sidewalk. The boutique had just opened when they arrived, so they had the entire place to themselves. Kendall helped her pick out a few suits for interviews and a few other casual pieces.

"So Adelaide can have her clothes back," Kendall said, then winked.

They argued briefly about who should pay when they reached the cash register. Kendall was shocked to hear Travis had stopped by to check on her and had given her some cash to cover essentials. She wanted to use the money to buy clothes, but Kendall refused. The salesclerk's attention volleyed between them, her lips quirked in amusement, but she didn't recognize Rebecca.

Kendall looked out the big picture window and widened his eyes. "Ohmygawd is that Patsy Hanover?"

"What? Where?" Rebecca asked as she spun around to look for her country club nemesis. If there was one person who'd recognize his mom, it was that she-devil.

Kendall took advantage of her distraction and handed his debit card to the clerk, who winked at him.

Rebecca spun back around. "You little shit."

"I believe the words you're looking for are thank you ."

She laughed as the clerk handed her the bag. "Thank you, Kendall."

"You're welcome."

Rebecca looped her arm through his, and they exited the store. Her flip-flop got caught on something, and she stumbled a bit. After glancing down at her feet, she met Kendall's gaze with a sheepish expression. "I'm going to need some shoes. A nice pair of ballet flats would go with these outfits."

"There's a shoe store down the street," he said, gesturing in that direction.

This time, Kendall kept quiet and allowed her to pay for her purchase. It was painful to watch her count out her money, knowing it was all she had to her name. His mother didn't seem fazed, though. She smiled and thanked the salesclerk when he handed her the shopping bag.

Back out on the sidewalk, Kendall looped his arm around her shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

She tucked her head against his chest. "That means more to me than I can say. There are moments like this when I just feel so happy to have survived being married to Stan. Others, I'm terrified of what my future holds."

Kendall squeezed her shoulder. "You're fiercer and smarter than you give yourself credit for."

She sighed heavily. "Fierce, I can believe. But smart? A wise woman would've planned better before she decided to call in an anonymous tip and turn her husband into the Federal Trade Commission."

Kendall stopped suddenly and stared down at his mother in shock. A slow smile spread across his face as the gravity of her words sank in. "Attagirl, Becca."