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She was just about to put on her shoes to join Tom when she saw a figure emerge from a tired old van. Tamzin. Kate watched Tamzin stride over to Tom, her cluster of long braids swinging free from the binding she usually wore, and her patterned Doc Martens would seem odd, paired as they were with the baggy pants and the loose sweater that hung off one shoulder, but for some reason it worked on Tamzin. She was forced to admire Tamzin’s style, though Kate’s own style recently would fall more under the heading of “what was available and close to her size.”
Tom looked up as Tamzin approached him. He nodded to her, leaned his rake against a nearby tree, and she threw her arms around him, giving him a big hug and kiss. He returned the hug while seeming only to endure the kiss, and a moment later put her to one side and took up his rake again. She stood there, talking, while he continued, gathering the leaves in an ever growing pile. After a few minutes she gave up and started heading toward the house. Kate stepped away instinctively, feeling guilty for intruding on what seemed a private enough moment.
Kate heard the door open by the time she was in the kitchen making her much-needed coffee.
“Oh, great,” said Tamzin. “I’ll have some of that, too, when it’s done.”
Kate looked up and nodded. “Sure, of course.”
“Do you mind giving me a hand?” asked Tamzin. “I’ve brought some things for the game this afternoon.”
“Game?”
Tamzin frowned. “The football game. Dallas and Pittsburgh?”
“A football game on TV?”
Tamzin nodded, looking at her curiously. “Yeah, you know. Passing a ball around and running with it?”
Kate fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, I know what a football game is. I just didn’t know that there was one on this afternoon and you and Tom were watching it.” Why hadn’t she known? Had it been a last minute thing, decided while she was in New York? Admittedly, by the time she’d returned Friday night, her father had been in bed and Tom anxious to get off home. But there had been all day Saturday. A Saturday she’d spent organizing her art studio up in the attic.
“Well, it was your dad’s idea, from what I understand,” said Tamzin, her tone slightly annoyed. “If I had my way, I’d be with Tom in his workshop helping him with his pieces for his show.”
In Kate’s view, there were so many problems with that statement, she didn’t even know where to begin. “Well I’m sure my dad will really appreciate Tom spending time with him,” she said stiffly.
“Yes, I know,” said Tamzin. “I get it. And that’s why I offered to come and be here this afternoon. Bring food. Serve the males in their ritual and all that.”
Kate gave her a tight smile. “That’s very good of you.”
Tamzin shrugged. “You sticking around for it, too? It might be nice to have another female amongst all that testosterone.”
“All the testosterone?” Kate asked, bemused. “Hardly overwhelming with the two of them.”
“And Simon. And I think Ethan. Maybe Stokey, if he can make it. Phil can’t.”
Kate felt a small gut punch hearing Tamzin speak all those names casually. Especially Phil and Stokey’s. They were her people, and the thought that Tamzin might have any claim on them left her feeling off balance. She knew it was petty, and that she had no right to feel that way. And Ethan. For some reason that bothered her too. Perhaps even more. She hadn’t seen Ethan since they’d met and parted at the coffee shop in New York.
She tried to get these feelings under control and managed a smile. “That many men? I guess I’ll have to stick around and help even things out.” She took a deep breath. “All right. You need help, you said?”
* * *
Kate watched Simon dip a carrot stick in the small ceramic bowl filled with vegan dip and suppressed amusement as he put it in his mouth and nearly gagged. It was some kind of chickpea hummus concoction with spice. Tamzin had taken full charge of snacks, pointing out her healthy approach was the best thing to have, especially for her father. Her father had gamely attempted a few of her self-declared wholesome snacks and after a few bits had politely left the remainder on the plate on the small table beside him, in full view of Max. Max, however, had refused to cooperate and kept himself well out of reach of the snacks or her father’s wiggling fingers to summon him over. Max was currently sprawled out on the floor by Ethan, who was sitting on the sofa end by the window, and showing no inclination to feed him. Tom, meanwhile, sat in ignorant bliss at the other end of the sofa, beside Simon. Tamzin was curled up on the floor at his feet, not quite in imitation of the dog, thought Kate wryly.
The game had started a short while before, just after Ethan had arrived, with Simon in his wake. The two had swept in, Max barking a welcome and Tamzin bustling in with her bowls of snacks. It was then her father had descended the stairs, giving everyone a hearty welcome, though Kate noticed the tightness around the mouth, and what was a gray tinge to his skin in some lights now had a yellow cast. He looked a little better now, ensconced in the armchair watching TV intently. She suddenly hoped that Stokey would make it. Her father could do with his friend.
“Anyone want something to drink?” she asked, rising. “Beer, soda, coffee?”
“I made a large smoothie,” said Tamzin. “Would you like one, Mr. Wilson?”
Her father looked over at Tamzin. “Uh, maybe later.”
Kate made her way to the kitchen, a deafening silence following her. She would bring in a selection of drinks and let people choose. That seemed the most diplomatic approach. She’d also use the opportunity to grab a bag of potato chips, or something that was a little more appealing to everyone else than the hummus and bits of peppers and celery. Once in the kitchen, she headed to the fridge and opened it, staring at the contents. The beer was there, two six packs in their cardboard holders, on the top shelf. Suddenly, seeing her father’s familiar brand, she felt a wave of grief.
“Do you need a hand?”
She turned to find Ethan beside her, a sympathetic look on his face. She gave him a wan smile. “That would be nice, thanks. “Did you want a beer? Or soda? Or a smoothie?”
“Beer is fine, thanks.”
