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Tom came over to her. “Hey, give your old bro a hug, Katydid.” He pulled her into his arms, and she tentatively put her arms around his back. It was no longer a lanky youth’s back, but a man’s, with the musculature to go with it. When had this happened?
“Katydid?” said Tamzin, snorting. “Great name.”
Tom chuckled. “Yeah. She got it when we were little. When we were caught misbehaving I’d always say, ‘Katy did it’ and it morphed into Katydid.”
“And of course I didn’t,” said Kate, trying to keep her humor. She put her plate in the dishwasher and edged her way out of the kitchen.
“Oh, Kate,” said Tom. “Guess who’s coming this afternoon?”
She turned and looked at him, shrugging. “Who?”
“Your old flame, Simon.”
She reddened. “He’s your old best friend, not my old flame.”
“But you had a crush on him, though. For years.”
“In high school. Briefly. That was a long time ago.”
He waggled his brows. “Not too late to kindle old sparks.”
Was he really thirty-three, thought Kate. She sighed. “Tom. That was high school. I’m in a serious relationship now.”
He gave her a playful shove, laughing. “How would we know? We’ve never met him. Your man could be a total invention.”
Kate glanced at Ethan who was shoving hamburger rolls into the fridge. She returned her gaze to her brother. “Giancarlo is not an invention. He lives in Italy. That’s why you haven’t met him,” she said in a firm voice. Before he could say anything more, she turned and left the kitchen.
* * *
Kate balanced the three bags of chips on top of the platter of raw hamburgers she held and made her way carefully down the wooden steps of the back porch. The backyard was spread before her, a string of lights hanging between the few trees at the back, pine picnic tables topped with citronella candles strewn across the grass along with numerous lawn chairs of mismatched colors and various states of repair. Neighbors’ outdoor furniture? On the side, near the porch, was a large folding table covered with a plastic checkered table cloth that was already groaning under the weight of the food it contained. The pungent odor of the simmering coals and cedar chips filled the air.
“Here, I’ll help you with that.” Tamzin reached for the bags of potato chips.
“Thanks,” said Kate. “Stick it over there on the table, will you, while I give these burgers to the chef?”
Tamzin snorted, the humor filling her face. “Yeah, Tom is really getting into the role. Your dad doesn’t usually allow him full rein at the barbecue.”
Kate smiled, looking over at her brother standing with an intent look on his face, his thick chestnut hair held back from his face by a bandanna.
“A special day for him, then, as much as it is for my father.” Kate scanned the backyard a moment. There were several people here already, mostly neighbors nearby, though one or two she recognized from the lake.
“Have you seen my dad?” she asked Tamzin. Kate had been so busy madly making potato salad, burger patties, and relish and organizing the napkins, cups, and all the other minor details she felt she had to do, she’d lost track of everything but her tasks. She felt a momentary flash of guilt. She hadn’t phoned Giancarlo yet since her arrival. The time difference had made impossible anything but a brief text to let him know she’d arrived last night. And this morning, well, it had fled her mind.
“I think he’s down in the basement with Ethan and Phil organizing the beer to bring it up.”
“Phil’s here?”
“Yes. He just got here. His wife is around somewhere too.”
Kate hadn’t seen Phil or her dad’s other band member, Stokey, in years. She wasn’t certain how she felt about seeing them again. The band. Missing her mother, of course, but it was still American Sky, for all that. They’d been cornerstones of her childhood and even the years after that, until she left.
She was suddenly conscious of the platter of burgers in her hands. “Oh, I’d better give this to the chef before he throws a kitchen fit.”
Tamzin grinned. “Oh definitely. He’s the man with the knife, fork, and spatula. Deadly weapons in his hands.”
Kate moved toward her brother, noting his flushed cheeks under the heat of the barbecue. Or was it the pressure of this great responsibility? Looked like it was hot in the kitchen for him, she thought with a laugh. Plates covered in foil were on the wooden table beside him, their contents ready for the grill.
“Here you go,” she said when she reached him. She set the plate down beside one of the others. “The burgers are all ready to go.”
