AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thanks, Kate,” said Tom distractedly. “Do you think the coals are hot enough now?”
She looked down at the coals glowing bright at the bottom of the large barrel-shaped grill. No gas barbecues for her father. Nothing but the real thing. “Authentic,” he called it. Tom called it stupid.
“I think it’s ready,” she said.
“Is it too soon to start?” he asked, his eyes still intent on the coals.
She looked around. She could see another surge of people entering the backyard by the gate at the side. “Nope. Perfect time to start.”
He frowned, glanced around. Straightened. “Right then. Let’s do this.”
Kate patted his back. “Yep, I think it’s barbecue time.”
She left him there, a smile on her face, and turned back to the house. There were still a few more things to bring out. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. Already the humidity was creating havoc with it, the curls and frizz starting to form, her sleek hairdo of the day before long forgotten. Still, the current hairdo went with the strange outfit she’d scrounged earlier. Her own clothes seemed to have disappeared, so she’d had to make do with an old pair of jeans from her brother held up by a tightly notched belt, and a Henley shirt from when he must have been ten, given its tight fit, and a flannel shirt from her father. Her mother’s brown Fry boots circa about 1990 were the only things that weren’t either too large or too small. She definitely had a statement look. A statement that would be a kindness to label “wacky,” unlike the effortlessly cool look Tamzin achieved. But she would go with it. And try to own it. Isn’t that what Giancarlo always told her? Though she wasn’t sure this was a look he would ever want her to own.
Once inside the kitchen, she noted that the worn pine kitchen table was empty except for the clutter of old cloths, odd utensils, and some outsize bowls from under one of the wood cabinets next to the stove. Where was the stack of paper plates, cups, and napkins she’d left here just a few moments ago? She saw the open door to the basement.
“Dad!” she shouted. There was no answer.
She went to the head of the basement stairs, leaned down and shouted again. “Dad!”
A dark, shaggy head appeared.
“Ethan,” she said, startled. “Is my dad there with you?”
“Yeah, he’s just there with Phil. They’re unearthing some old equipment. Want me to get him for you?”
She blinked, his words distracting her a moment. Equipment? She shoved the thought aside and focused on Ethan’s patient gaze. “Oh. No, if you could just ask him if he knows where the paper plates, cups, and napkins went, that would be great.”
“There on the dining room table,” he said. “We just put them there out of the way so we could put the equipment where they were.”
There was humor in his eyes, the lack of glasses making his gaze even more unnerving in the filtered light.
She forced a nod. “Thanks.”
She turned quickly and left, heading toward the dining room where she was brought up short by the sight that confronted her. Gone was the familiar old dining-room set of mismatched pinewood chairs with broken rungs and a table marred and scratched from years of poorly aimed knives and spilled liquids, and in its place was a large rectangular table and six ladder-back chairs of maple. The table, French polished to a warm glow, showed off the simplicity of the style and matched the subtly turned table legs echoed in the arches of the chair backs. It was beautiful. But where had it come from?
She looked around the room for clues. The family photo taken just before her mother died still hung on the far wall beside the china cabinet filled with her grandmother’s Beleek collection and an old tea set she’d brought with her from Ireland. The cheese plant was in the corner, looking ragged around the edges, and Max’s bed that he never used was in the corner by the door that led to the kitchen. The table and chairs made the rest of the room’s contents seem dowdy. What was it doing here? She shook her head and moved to collect the pile of paper goods sprawled on the table. She’d ask Tom.
Voices caught her attention. Hands full, she made her way to the kitchen just as her dad emerged, followed by Phil and Ethan. Her dad’s arms were taken up with a tangled mess of extension cords. Phil’s arms held a couple of large boxes, and Ethan carried speakers.
She narrowed her eyes at her dad. “A little late for a sound system, isn’t it?”
“Nah, these are for later,” said her dad. He put the extension cords down on the kitchen table and started clearing the rest of the space.
“Katydid!” said Phil. He set the two boxes on the table. “Come give old Phil a big hug.”
She moved into his arms, fitting against his large frame that had grown even heftier in the intervening years, along with the thinning blond hair. But the earring was still in his right ear, a small gold loop that he used to tug on when he was worried. And his trademark twisted double leather bracelet he used to wear was still on his wrist. It had matched the triple twisted one that Stokey had worn on both wrists.
He pulled back and grinned at her. “Look at you. You’re all growed up,” he said, echoing the phrase Kate had said to her older cousin long ago.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been grown up for a while now.”
He laughed at her. “No, surely it was only yesterday that you were hugging my knees wanting a swing up.”
“That was Tom,” she said with a laugh.
“Sure about that?” he said, eyes twinkling.
