Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Asher
The party winds down slowly as the evening goes on.
By around nine-thirty, some of the guests start to head out, including Kat’s parents, who bundle into their heavy winter coats and hug both me and Kat on their way out the door.
Josephine and Mike leave with the kids, who are practically falling asleep standing up.
The youngest is already asleep in Mike’s arms, his head lolling against his dad’s shoulder.
Several of Kat’s old classmates leave in a group around ten, giving us a wave.
Maya left at some point earlier, although I can’t pinpoint exactly when. But Daniel lingers. He’s been nursing his drink for the past hour, making what looks like polite conversation with Beverly’s remaining guests. But mostly, he’s been watching Kat.
His gaze follows her around the room, tracking her every movement with a subtle interest that sets my teeth on edge.
There’s something about the way he looks at her, as if he’s reconsidering decisions he made and realizing what he threw away.
As if he thinks he still has some claim to her, some right to look at her that way.
Fuck that. He doesn’t. He gave up that right when he unceremoniously dumped her and moved on to someone else.
Toward the end of the night, when most of the guests have trickled out into the snowy evening, Kat offers to help Beverly clean up.
Most people have left by now, just a small group lingering by the fireplace nursing their drinks and chatting in low voices.
Daniel is still there too, holding court with an older couple who look like they’d much rather be heading home but are too polite to extract themselves.
“You don’t have to help, sweetheart,” Beverly tells Kat as the group by the fireplace starts to put on their coats, waving goodbye.
“I don’t mind,” Kat says, brushing off her grandmother’s protests and starting to stack up some plates. “Besides, you did all the cooking. The least I can do is help clean up.”
I grab a stack of dessert plates and follow them to the kitchen.
Daniel’s voice carries from the living room, going on about something work-related that the couple he’s trapped doesn’t seem particularly interested in.
I catch fragments about case law and litigation strategy, the kind of shop talk that’s deadly boring at parties.
In the kitchen, Kat and I start bringing in empty and half-empty platters while Beverly directs operations.
She’s got a system, clearly honed over years of hosting parties, and we fall into it easily.
Leftovers go into carefully labeled containers while dishes get scraped and stacked by the sink in the order they’ll be washed.
“The party was amazing, Grandma,” Kat says as she wraps up what’s left of a cheese platter. “You really outdid yourself this year. Everything was perfect.”
“Oh, you’re sweet to say so.” Beverly beams at her, and I can see where Kat gets her smile. “I do love hosting these gatherings. It’s one of my favorite things about the holidays, having everyone together under one roof.”
I grin as I watch them together. It’s obvious how close they are, the easy affection between them that can only come from years of shared history.
Beverly’s face always seems to light up a little when she looks at Kat, and Kat moves around the kitchen with a familiarity that makes me think she’s done this dozens of times before, knowing exactly where everything goes without having to ask.
It’s the kind of relationship I used to wish I had with my own father. The kind that’s built on years of showing up, of being present, of knowing each other’s idiosyncrasies.
As we’re doing dishes, Beverly peers to the window over the sink and frowns. “Oh my.”
I follow her gaze. Damn.
The weather has changed dramatically in the past hour. What was a light trickle of snow earlier is now falling thick and fast, blowing sideways in gusts of wind that rattle the windowpanes every once in a while. I can barely see the cars parked along the street through the flurry of white.
“The roads will be a mess,” Beverly says, concern creeping into her voice. “It’s almost white-out conditions with this wind. I can barely see the Millers’ house across the street.”
“We should probably get going then,” Kat says, glancing at me with worry in her eyes. “Before it gets any worse.”
“Absolutely not.” Beverly turns to face us, resting her fists on her hips with a dishtowel still clutched in one hand. “You’re not driving in this. Either of you. You’ll stay the night. I’ve got plenty of room, and I won’t sleep a wink worrying about you two on those roads.”
“Grandma, we don’t want to impose,” Kat protests, but I can hear that her heart isn’t really in it. She’s seen the weather too.
“It’s not an imposition, sweetheart. I’m not letting my granddaughter risk her life on these roads, and I’m certainly not letting Asher drive either.” She dips her chin, fixing Kat with a look that’s impossible to argue with. “You’ll stay, and that’s final. I won’t hear another word about it.”
I glance out the window again. She’s right. Driving back to the cabin in this would be pretty fucking stupid, the kind of pointless risk you take when you’re young and think you’re invincible. I’m not that young anymore, and I know better.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “We really appreciate it. You’re very kind to offer.”
Beverly nods, satisfied that the matter is settled, then heads back toward the living room. “I need to tell the others not to drive home either. There are enough guest rooms for everyone.”
Kat and I follow her out, but when we get to the living room, the couple Daniel was talking to is already gone. Their coats are missing from the rack by the door, and Daniel is the only one left, standing by the fireplace with a fresh drink in his hand.
“What happened to the Foleys?” Beverly asks, looking around with concern.
“They left a little while ago,” Daniel says, his words just a little slurred. I guess he wasn’t just nursing that last drink.
Beverly clicks her tongue in disapproval.
“Well, I hope they made it home before the weather turned. I’ll have to give them a call to make sure they made it alright.
” She turns her sharp gaze on Daniel, taking in his unsteady posture and flushed cheeks.
“But you’re certainly not going anywhere, young man.
The weather is terrible, and you’re in no shape to drive. You’ll stay the night as well.”
I frown. The idea of the three of us staying here, with Daniel right down the hall from us, isn’t appealing.
Not after watching him shoot sideways glances at Kat all evening with that smarmy fucking look on his face.
But I can’t exactly kick him out of Beverly’s house, and she’s right about the roads.
“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Sanders,” Daniel says, giving her a crooked smile that’s probably supposed to be charming. He takes the last sip of his drink and then sets the empty cup down on the mantel.
“Oh, nonsense.” Beverly waves a hand. “It’s just common sense and basic human decency. Now come on, all of you. Let me get you situated upstairs so you can get some rest.”
Despite a bit more halfhearted protesting from Kat about not wanting to be any trouble, we end up following her grandmother up the sweeping staircase to the second floor. The stairs creak under our feet, the old wood settling with age, and I can hear the wind howling outside.
“The blue room for you two,” Beverly announces, opening a door halfway down the hall to reveal a spacious bedroom.
It’s big, just like the rest of the house, with an attached bathroom, tall windows with thick curtains, and a couple of comfortable-looking chairs in the corner. The furniture looks old and expensive.
And there’s only one bed.
I see Kat notice it too, her gaze shooting over to me as her eyes widen a little.
“This is great, thanks, Grandma,” she says, a hint of strain in her voice. “You’ve kept it so nice.”
Beverly, oblivious to the tension crackling between us, pats Kat’s shoulder and then heads down the hallway to open another door.
“Let me get you some toiletries. I know I’ve got extra toothbrushes somewhere around here—ah, here they are!
And toothpaste too.” She gathers several items from what looks like a well-stocked storage closet.
“Oh, and Kat, dear, I have a spare nightgown that should fit you. Let me go grab it.”
She disappears downstairs and returns a few moments later, handing Kat a white cotton nightgown that looks like it’s from another era. She doles out toothbrushes and toothpaste to the two of us, giving me an apologetic expression.
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything that will fit you, Asher. You’re quite a bit bigger than my late husband was. Broader in the shoulders.”
“That’s okay,” I tell her. “I’ll manage just fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“And Daniel, same goes for you, I apologize. But I’ve got a toothbrush and toothpaste for you, and you’ll be right next door in the green room.” She hands him his toiletries, then opens the door adjacent to the one she’s designated for me and Kat.
Right next door. Of course.
“My bedroom is downstairs on the first floor,” Beverly continues, moving between the rooms to make sure everything is in order.
“So if you need anything during the night, you’ll have to come down and get me.
I won’t hear you if you just call from up here.
The house is too big, and I sleep like the dead. ”
She pauses, looking at each of us in turn. “The bathrooms are stocked with everything else you should need—Daniel, yours will be right down the hall.” She points. “They’ve got towels, soap, all the basics. Sleep well, all of you. I’ll make a big breakfast in the morning once this storm passes.”