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Ethan shrugged and then grinned. “A bit of everything. She was good. She liked to take some pieces and do her own take with a twist and in a completely different style. It was sort of an underhanded gibe to my father. He would ask her what composer that was and she would say something like, ‘Oh, Daddy, that’s one of the new ones. You wouldn’t know him or like him.’ My father thought he knew classical music just because he had a few LPs and had season tickets to the Boston Symphony, but he knew fuck all.”
Tom looked at Kate and snorted. “We used to do that all the time, but in our house, we could never get away with it. My parents would either end up calling us out or joining in with their own twist.”
Kate smiled, but it had a bittersweet quality to it because she realized that Tom had experienced a few more years than she had of that kind of closeness with her parents before her mother died. There were only a few faded memories in her possession of the scenes Tom had just described.
“Yeah,” said Ethan. “But your parents were awesome.”
Tom laughed and Kate found herself smiling. “Yes, they were.”
The thought made her feel good, a sentiment that drove her to look across at Tom and communicate it to him. And when she did, she was filled with a quiet joy to see that he understood and shared it too. And as if sensing that it was a moment for her and her brother, but one that stretched out beyond them, to Ethan, she found his eyes and then his hand. A hand that a moment later, Max found and started licking.
Thirty-Four
Tom filled up the kitchen not only with the smell of eggs and bacon, but also with his presence. It was large and comforting, like the breakfast he cooked while she made toast and coffee and got plates ready. Kate wanted to hug him to her, a personal teddy bear and perfect on this late November morning. Black Friday. But for her, the blackness had receded a little, and it was a feeling she wanted to share with her brother.
He’d opted to spend the night after driving her home in his van following their ridiculous but surprisingly enjoyable walk and picnic in the van. She’d been glad for his presence then as she was now. The house had seemed especially silent and lonely, even with Max, the last few days. It was if the numbness of grief had receded enough to let these other emotions creep in. Except for the night she’d spent with Ethan, she’d found herself waking up at odd times of the night, unable to get back to sleep. Often, she’d find herself downstairs making herself a cup of chamomile tea, not so much because she believed it to be effective, but because it was soothing and gave her a focus. Max would take up his position next to her on the bed. He’d gravitated there from the floor by stealth, and she’d hadn’t the heart to stop him, because it was so comforting. His soft breathing that descended into soft snores reassured her in the yawning darkness.
Now Max was out in the backyard having his morning “sniff and snuffle,” as her dad used to call it. That and any other business that needed taking care of. That phrasing had also been her father’s and had caused both her and Tom a good giggle when he’d said it.
She bumped Tom’s side. “Hey, how’s it going there, chef? You almost finished?”
Tom blinked and looked across at her. “Oh, right. Yes. Kind of.”
Kate arched a brow. “Kind of?”
“No, no. I mean it’s ready.” He lifted the large frying pan off the burner and put it to the side. He glanced at her and frowned at her expression. “What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
She helped him plate up and tore a piece each of paper towel for napkins before they both took a seat at the kitchen table. A companionable silence fell over them as they ate.
“Yum, Tom,” said Kate. “You’ve certainly improved your cooking skills.”
He looked up and gave her a wry look. “Yeah, well, needs must and all that. Living on your own, with my kind of appetite and no real extra cash to eat every meal out gave me a certain encouragement to learn.”
“No mooching off of Dad every time?”
Tom made a scoffing sound. “Dad? Please. You know the extent of his abilities.”
She laughed. “Yes, I guess I do. On the rare occasion I didn’t cook I soon wished I had.”
“So, there you go. Quick lessons in things I liked to eat. A few cookbooks and a few carefully chosen girlfriends, and I was good to go.” He grinned at her. “You’d be surprised how much playing the helpless guy really reels them in.”
Kate shoved him. “You’re terrible. And what’s worse, I believe you.”
He widens his eyes. “It was a fair trade. I wasn’t the only one who benefited.”
Kate gave a full belly laugh. “Oh my God. You really think you’re God’s gift to women?”
“Clearly. I’m not evolved. I don’t know why you expected anything different.”
There was something in the tone of his words that stirred something inside Kate. “Didn’t Tamzin consider you evolved enough?”
Tom gave her a sharp look. “What makes you say that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. She hasn’t been around at all. You haven’t even mentioned her. And, well, she had a certain style to her, a personality that seemed to…” She searched carefully for the right words. “She seemed to assume that everyone would want what she strived for.”
“And what is that?” Tom’s tone was studied, as he searched her face for something that Kate could only wonder at.
