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“So how was your trip?” Barbara-Claire asks. She says to Kerry-Anne, “I can do the rest of this if you want to go on home. But thank you for staying.”
“I don’t mind,” Kerry-Anne says, her face tight.
I lift one finger in the air, indicating that they both should hold on a second. I chew, and swallow, and then I say, “I got a question for you, Kerry-Anne.”
“Okay…” she replies as she sets a dish down and braces her hands on the counter. She lifts her eyebrows and waits.
“Why do you think you’re in love with Grady?” I ask her.
She sucks in a surprised breath. “What?”
I toss another carrot in my mouth and talk around it. “Well, when we were younger, you were hell-bent on telling lies that kept me and Grady apart.”
She sputters out a noise, but no words come out.
“Like the time you lied and told me that Grady didn’t want my cookie. And the time that you said you’d gone on a date with him to the movies but you two never went on a date, did you?” I stare at her, challenging.
“Well, not in so many words.” She wipes the countertop down with a rag, like she can’t stay busy enough.
“There are only two adequate responses. Yes. Or no. Which is it?”
“I think it’s safe to say that Kerry-Anne had a crush on Grady,” Barbara-Claire says, like she’s prompting her.
“He gave you a ride home from the car dealership because giving rides was his job,” I remind her. “How did that turn into a date?”
“Well, it had the potential to turn into a date if you didn’t keep getting in the way,” she suddenly says with no small amount of heat. Then she looks like she wishes she could take it back, but it’s out there now. It’s just hanging there in the air between us, like a landmine waiting for one wrong move to blow up.
“Grady never wanted to date you,” I say slowly.
“I’m aware of that now.” She holds up her left hand so I can see her ring finger. “I’m married, for goodness sake, Evie. I have a child.”
“Well, I feel obligated to inform you that your lies kept me and Grady apart on more than one occasion, and I do blame you for all that time we spent apart.”
She huffs out a breath. “Fine. I’ll take the blame.” She jerks her thumb toward the kids’ playroom. “I’m going to get my daughter and go home now, Barbara-Claire,” she says.
“That might be a good idea,” Barbara-Claire replies softly.
Kerry-Anne disappears around the corner and comes back carrying a sweet little girl. She walks across the room without saying another word, her cheeks as red as fire as she streaks past us. But at the door, she stops and turns back. “You had everything,” she says quietly.
I stand up straighter and face her. “Excuse me?”
She clears her throat and tries again. “You had everything.”
“Kerry-Anne,” Barbara-Claire scolds gently. “You might not want to…” She lets her voice trail off as she shakes her head.
“No, it’s okay,” I put in. “Say what you want to say. No time like the present.”
“You had everything, Evie,” she says again. “Your parents were nice and funny. Your grandmother adored you. You had friends. The teachers thought you were charming and smart. You had Junior and Barbara-Claire, and…yes, you had Grady too.” She looks down at her feet. Her daughter’s head rests on her shoulder. “I had nothing.”
“Your parents were rich, Kerry-Anne,” I remind her.
She shakes her head. “My parents hated one another, and they fought so much that my grandparents didn’t even allow them to come over. I spent most of high school in my room because my parents didn’t even like me. They still don’t like me.”
My heart suddenly clenches in my chest. “Kerry-Anne…”
“So, yes, I wanted what you had. You had everything, to my little-girl brain.”
“I didn’t know it was so hard for you,” I admit. “No one did.” I look toward Barbara-Claire for acknowledgement, but she just shakes her head.
