The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

to navigating it past other shoppers. He did so with some failing, crashing the side of the cart into the grocery aisle refrigeration section's retaining wall for the second time in less than a minute. He now understood the purpose of the black rubber bumper lining the knee-high retaining wall of the fruits and vegetables, a guardrail designed to protect against any wayward cart drivers cruising the thoroughfare of Stop & Shop's tiled aisles. As if adding insult to injury, his latest crash was accompanied by a deafening squeak of the wheel, drawing the attention of a few nearby shoppers. Kelly smiled, throwing his shoulders up into a shrug.

He leaned down and reached for a bag of Brussels sprouts as the timed mist sprayed down from above, dampening his outstretched arm. Perfect! When it rains it pours. He wasn’t a big fan of grocery shopping, and this latest venture only added to his dislike. The one bright spot was the company he’d brought along with him.

Kelly fished out a family-sized bag of sprouts and tossed it into the cart. Embry looked up at him, her green eyes wide with fear, as if she had just seen a bear pop out from behind a tree.

"Are you kidding me, Dad?" she asked, staring down at the newest item added to the cart.

Kelly smiled. "Come on, they're good for you. Plus, the way I cook them, they're not that healthy. Trust me, they’ll be delicious. I think you're old enough to at least give it a try. I'm going to be cooking them with bacon. You love bacon."

Embry stuck her tongue out in a gagging gesture and slowly shook her head from left to right, eyes still holding a feigned, wide-eyed look of shock at his suggestion that she try something so horrible as fresh Brussels sprouts on Thanksgiving. “Great, now I don’t even get to look forward to bacon.”

“Don’t worry. I bought two packs. One for the sprouts and one for the pancakes the next morning.”

“As long as they’re not Brussels sprout pancakes.”

Kelly’s turn to roll his eyes.

"So, tell me more. When is she coming?" And just like that his daughter flipped the conversation back to their previous discussion. She batted her eyes with a coy, mocking gesture as she continued to subtly tease her father, which she had done since they first entered the store.

Actually, the taunting began when his daughter learned about their guest at this year’s Thanksgiving dinner. Embry had met Kristen Barnes before, but not since the two of them decided to try their hand at a relationship. And much to Kelly’s misery, Embry was taking far too much pleasure in tormenting him for it.

"Look, like I told you before, Kris will be stopping by. No big deal. She's just a friend. Kris isn’t coming to dinner. She'll only be over for dessert." Kelly tried to downplay his excitement, but he could see by Embry’s eye-rolling that she wasn’t buying into it.

"Maybe she’s skipping dinner to avoid your Brussels sprouts?"

Kelly laughed. Embry would make a hell of an interrogator someday, although he said a silent prayer every night that she would never choose to follow in his footsteps.

"I’m sure she’s very upset at the prospect of missing out on my secret recipe. But she's got a family tradition of her own. Kris has never missed a Thanksgiving dinner with her parents unless work interfered, and I don't want to be the reason she misses tomorrow’s."

“Why?” Embry asked with genuine interest.

"It's an important time for her. I don’t know if I told you, but she was in foster care for a long time.”

“Her mom didn’t want her?”

It was a foreign concept to a child like Embry, who’d never experienced anything like that. Kelly thought of the recent revelation regarding his own biological mother and his secret adoption, something he had not yet shared with his daughter. He wasn’t sure when the time would be appropriate to do so, especially since he was still processing the news himself.

“Not every mother can keep their child.”

“That’s sad,” Embry said solemnly.

Kelly was always impressed with his daughter’s ability to empathize. “It is, and I’m sure it was for Kris, but some good came of it. She was eventually adopted by a loving family who couldn’t have children of their own.”

“But I still don’t understand why she can’t come to our house for dinner.”

Kelly was delighted to hear his daughter so intent on having Barnes over. If for no other reason than to have a partner to commiserate with her suffering in having to eat the sprouts.

“Thanksgiving holds particular significance for Kris and her family. It was the day her adoption was finalized. For her, it was the first family meal she had in a very long time. So, for her, it's not just Thanksgiving, it's a time when she reconnects to that point when she was first brought home. When she gained a home after living so long in the foster care system without one." Kelly somewhat regretted the serious tone in the conversation because he saw the glimmer dissipate from Embry's eyes as she looked up at him.

"I get it, Dad. But still, when is she coming?"

"Like I said, dessert. So maybe sometime between 5:00 and 6:00."

"And how long is she going to stay? Hopefully she’ll join us for game night. If she’s going to be your girlfriend then she should stay for games.”

“I told you, we’re just friends,” Kelly said a little more emphatically than intended. His denial made the truth more obvious.

Ignoring his attempts at concealing the nature of their relationship, Embry continued, “I think you should dress up. Better idea, I should dress you. How about that? Let me get you ready for your big date."

"Embry, I told you, she's just a friend. I invited her over for dessert. She’s my partner. You don’t make a big deal when Mainelli stops by. Or the times that we've met some of my other partners out at a restaurant for dinner."

"This