Chapter Ten #3
Looking back at Christian, who’s shoving his precalculus book into his backpack, I wonder for the first time what kind of big brother he’d have been, and if he ever gets sad that he’s an only child.
He catches me staring. “You’re acting weird, Dad.”
I ignore his statement and knock on the door. A moment later, Kenna’s voice shouts up. “Come in!”
I open the door, pick up the boxes, and navigate my way down the steps.
Nobody is around when I reach the bottom, so I place the boxes next to the couch.
As soon as I straighten, I’m hit with an amazing smell wafting through the air.
My eyes immediately go to the small kitchen counter where I see—a pot?
On a cooktop? Neither of those things were here before.
Stepping closer to the kitchen area, I notice there’s also a toaster. And a coffee maker that looks like it could rival one at any coffee shop.
Examining the stack of empty boxes by the French doors, I notice not only did she get the aforementioned appliances and cookware, she got an air mattress and—Shit. Is that a new PlayStation?
Standing here staring at the boxes, I try to calculate in my head what she must have spent. Nearly a thousand dollars for sure. I don’t get it. She’s only going to be here for a week or so. Why get all this stuff?
“I didn’t know where you wanted me to put the trash.”
Kenna and Amelia come from the bathroom. Kenna walks by me on the way to the counter and that same flowery scent that I swear I smelled all night long trails behind her.
“Kenna, you didn’t have to get all this stuff. You could have used my kitchen.”
She stirs whatever is cooking in the pot. “I told you I didn’t want to be a bother. We’re fine down here.”
“Carter!” Amelia says excitedly. “Mommy got a PlayStation. Wanna play with me?”
“Not right now, okay? I have to make dinner.”
I walk over next to Kenna and peer down into what looks like beef stew. My mouth waters. The woman has skills.
On the counter next to the cooktop is a receipt. My eyes bug out when I see I wasn’t far off. She spent nine hundred seventy-nine dollars. In cash.
“Can Christian play with me?” Amelia asks from the couch.
I glance over once again at all the empty boxes from their shopping excursion. It’s evident Kenna wants to be self-sufficient. ‘We’re fine down here.’ Does that mean she doesn’t want anything to do with us?
But what about last night? The snowman. The moment we had on the ground. The look we shared that I’m one-hundred-percent sure was not a figment of my imagination.
“He’s not all that great at stairs, pumpkin.”
“Because his legs are all wobbly?”
I smile. “Yeah.”
“I could bring it up there.”
“Amelia, we talked about this,” Kenna gently admonishes. “We’re not going to bother Carter and Christian.”
I lean close. “Bother us. Please.”
When I replay the words in my head and figure that might fall under the category of scaring her away, I step back and add, “I mean, it’s always been just the two of us. It’s nice having other people around for a change.”
She stirs the pot again. “We have dinner. And I need to wash my hair.”
Feeling put in my place, I nod and gesture to the couch. “I put some boxes over there. I’ll pop up to get more.”
“I’ll go with you. Amelia, can you help, please?”
I cock my head. “Those boxes are way too heavy for her.”
“I don’t want her down here with the pot on the cooktop.”
Fair point. I pick up some of the empty boxes, then have a thought. “Don’t you want to keep some of these to re-pack your purchases when you leave?”
She shrugs. “Most of this stuff won’t be needed. I’ll keep the PlayStation for Amelia, but other than that, maybe you could donate whatever you don’t want.”
Donate? I stare at the coffee maker that I know must have cost well over a hundred dollars and shake my head at this enigma of a situation. “Well, okay then.” Not sure what else to say, I proceed upstairs with my armful, Kenna and Amelia right behind me.
Instead of helping us with the boxes, Amelia begs Christian to play a game of Go Fish. It keeps her busy as we unload the rest of my car.
“Thank you for letting me use your car today,” Kenna says when the last of the boxes are downstairs.
“It’s yours to use as long as you’re here.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“I’m driving a loaner from the shop. It’s all good.”
“But you have carpool tomorrow.”
I laugh. “The car does have a back seat, Kenna.”
“Still…” She walks over and stirs the pot. “I don’t want to—”
“Be a bother?” I sidle up next to her. “Kenna, I assure you, you aren’t a bother. You’re the opposite of a bother. You’re like a breath of fresh air.”
I mentally smack myself. Did I really just say that?
Her cheeks pink, and I can’t stop myself from staring at her.
Almost reluctantly, she looks back. Then she turns her whole body to face me.
Our eyes lock onto each other’s, her incredible pools of green looking up into mine like she wants to say something.
Then they stray for just a millisecond when she glances at my lips.
Holy shit—she looked at my lips. That’s a sign she wants me to kiss her.
My pants get tight like I’m a goddamn teenager at a co-ed sleepover. I swear I haven’t been this nervous since I asked Denise to be my date for junior prom. My palms sweat. My heart pounds. My mind races.
Something passes between us. Something even more powerful than last night when we were on the ground. There’s this invisible tether of emotions connecting us.
Kiss her, stupid.
I lean in, and…
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
Amelia appears at Kenna’s side, and the moment is gone. I want to be angry at her for ruining what was most definitely going to be our first kiss, but it’s hard to be mad at such a little angel.
To be honest, what bothers me more than Amelia’s interruption is Kenna’s reaction to it. I’m not sure, but she seems… relieved.
To say I’m as confused as a squirrel in traffic would be an understatement.
Shaking off the frustration trying to sink in, I hoist Amelia up and let her look into the pot. “Looks like your mom cooked up an amazing dinner.” I tickle her then drop her on the couch. “I’ll see you later, pumpkin.”
I turn to Kenna, trying to keep my dejection at bay. “Goodnight, Kenna.”
She gives me a sheepish nod.
At the top of the stairs, I grab my tools and the chain lock I left here earlier and get to work installing it. When I’m done a few minutes later, I turn to see Kenna staring at me from the bottom of the stairs. Neither of us says anything. I just nod and go through the door.
“How many steaks should I get out?” Christian asks, his eyes flitting to the basement door.
“Two.” I don’t intend to blow out a deep, disappointed breath, but after the brief exchange Kenna and I had, I can’t help it.
“You okay, Dad?”
I nod and walk to the refrigerator.
“Girls can be confusing, can’t they?” he asks.
I open a bottle of beer, lean against the counter, and stare at my intuitive kid. “They sure as hell can be, son. They sure as hell can be.” I take a long swig and then get started on dinner.