Chapter Nine
Danny didn’t deliberately time his arrival at his parents’ house for the dinner hour, but he didn’t not plan it that way.
“Who told you your mother made a lasagna?” his dad asked as soon as he walked through the front door.
He laughed. “Mom always makes a big meal on her day off.”
Mike and Lisa Kowalski weren’t exactly creatures of habit—having four sons kept any routine from settling in—but some things never changed.
“She makes a big meal so she can freeze the leftovers in portions for two, not so our sons can eat.” Mike snorted. “You can afford to buy your own lasagna.”
That was one of the problems with one’s father being one’s accountant—he always knew how much money you had.
But Mike had been Uncle Joe’s financial guy since Danny was a kid, and having somebody who knew how publishing accounting worked was more important than keeping his dad’s nose out of his business.
“Nobody makes it like Mom, though.”
“Did I hear my name?” Lisa walked into the living room, and Danny met her halfway to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I was just getting ready to serve, so your timing is perfect.”
Danny got their drinks while his mom put slabs of lasagna on three plates. It had been a while since he had it, so he was halfway through his meal before he remembered why he was there.
“I actually stopped by because I’m heading back up to the campground for a while, and I wanted to see you. And also ask you to check in on the place like once a week or so.”
His mother’s eyebrow arched. “Once a week or so? How long are you going to be gone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe until May? June? I’m not really sure.”
“Why is that?” his dad asked.
Danny’s mind blanked. Considering telling stories was his entire life, he probably should have taken the time to check for plot holes in this one before he told it.
“I, uh, might set my next book up there,” he said. Since he hadn’t even thought about his next book yet, it wasn’t totally a lie. It could happen. “It’ll give me a chance to immerse myself in the setting.”
Lisa laughed, shaking her head. “You are such a bad liar. I think out of all four boys, you’re the worst at it, which is hilarious considering you’re a fiction writer.”
He would have been offended if she wasn’t right.
“We’re just messing with you, son,” his dad said. “We know you’re going to cover for Brian because Siobhan’s expecting.”
Danny held up his hands. “One, that’s not funny. And, two, who told you?”
Lisa scoffed. “Brian and Siobhan told us. By the time they got through the people they had to tell in order to make it work, you, Rob and Joey knew, which just left us out of the loop and that didn’t feel right to them.”
“They also know you’re a bad liar,” his dad added. “And they wanted us to hear it from them, not accidentally from you.”
He chuckled. “I’m just glad you know because I never would have heard the end of it if I let it slip.”
“You’re okay with going up there?” Mike asked, getting up to refill their water glasses.
“When you agreed to go in with them, it was with the understanding you’d be a silent partner and mostly left out of it.
Would you have gone through with it if you’d known Joey and Brian would both find wives and have babies so soon? ”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But to be fair, I don’t think they would have gone through with it if they’d known. But this is where we are, and Brian needs to be with Siobhan right now.”
“I just feel so bad,” Lisa said. “You struggled so hard finishing your book, and now this.”
“I’ll have to go through the editing process on the one I turned in, but this is the phase for the next one when I spend a lot of time thinking about the story while doing mindless work. It won’t mess up my schedule too much.”
“We’ll check on your place while you’re away,” his dad said. “Anything we can do to make it easier.”
Later that night, while sorting through his office and making a list of what he’d need to take with him, he caught himself looking at the time every few minutes.
About ten minutes after eight o’clock, he grabbed his phone and pulled up his text message thread with Kenzie so he could send her a new message.
Hey, so sometime in the next few days, I’ll be heading back to stay at the campground for a while.
He must have gotten the timing right—after closing but before she started driving—because the response came back immediately.
Uh-oh.
He hadn’t expected that. Luckily, a follow-up message came through before he had to think of a response.
Did your editor send a lot of notes?
When he realized the uh-oh had been her assuming he was returning due to the book and not just because he was going back, he chuckled.
Not yet. I’m just going to help get the place ready for the summer.
Seconds after hitting Send, it occurred to him that claiming he was working on the book would have made more sense. He couldn’t share Brian’s news with her, and she knew he wasn’t hands-on at the campground.
It was too late now, and he really was pretty bad at real-life fiction.
That’s great. I’ll probably see you around.
Disappointment flowed through him, and he sent back a thumbs-up emoji before dropping his phone on the desk.
He’d been hoping for a little more excitement. She could have told him to let her know when he arrived so they could go for a walk. At the very least, she could have invited him to stop by the restaurant to say hi.
I’ll probably see you around.
So maybe Kenzie Pelletier found Dan Kowalski more interesting than plain Danny. She wouldn’t be the first.
But it didn’t matter, he told himself as he added sticky notes to the packing list. He wasn’t going back to the campground to see Kenzie. He was going to help out his brothers, and between the outside work and his actual work, he’d have plenty to keep him busy.
* * *
There were several vehicles in the parking lot when Kenzie turned into Corinne’s Kitchen, but she didn’t pay them any mind as she drove around back. She parked in her usual spot beside Frank’s truck and went in through the back door.
“How’d it go?” Frank asked when he spotted her.
“Everything’s good,” she told him. Because it was her annual physical, he didn’t ask any more questions and she didn’t offer any details. If she said everything was good, that was good enough for him. “How’s everything here?”
“Pretty quiet.”
She tied her half apron around her waist before slipping an order pad and some pens into one of the pockets.
From the dining room, she heard Hannah laugh and smiled.
The campground was getting ready to welcome their seasonal campers back soon, so asking Hannah to cover her shift for a medical appointment had felt like a big deal.
Her friend had only waved off her concern and reminded her she very much enjoyed getting to talk to other people in the community once in a while.
“I think we should kill off spaghetti,” Frank said as he flipped a couple of burger patties.
“Did we run out? Or is there something wrong with the sauce?”
“No, I mean from the menu entirely. Spaghetti’s such an easy thing to make at home. Why pay for somebody else to make it?”
Kenzie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Frank just didn’t like serving spaghetti, nor did he like eating it, and they had this conversation once or twice a year.
“Because the meatballs and garlic bread you make are a treat. And it’s our Thursday special because we can make it on the cheap and sell it at a reasonable price and still make a profit. ”
“My parents come for spaghetti night every other Thursday,” Nathan said, making Kenzie jump because she hadn’t heard him behind her. “They like it. Especially the meatballs.”
“Fine,” Frank said, holding his spatula up in dramatic fashion before setting it down to lay cheese across the burgers. “We’ll keep the spaghetti.”
“We could revisit the fish chowder, though,” Kenzie said.
“Nope. Get out of my kitchen.”
She laughed at his gruff tone and pushed backward through the swinging door so she could smile at Nathan—who also hated the smell of fish chowder—as she went. He stuck out his tongue, crinkling his nose, and she laughed.
“Hey, I’m back,” she said as she turned, knowing Hannah was standing nearby. Then she saw who Hannah was talking to—Rob and Danny. “Oh. You’re back.”
“You said you’d probably see me around,” he reminded her, his blue eyes sparkling. “When you’ve got the best burgers and fries in town, it’s almost a guarantee.”
“I have the only burgers and fries in town.” She scanned the dining room, but everybody looked content—either eating or lingering over coffee. “Hi, Rob.”
“Hey, Kenzie. You must have made good time. We thought we’d be gone before you got back and you’d never know we were here distracting Hannah.”
“I drove extra fast, trying to catch my friend who works for almost nothing as a favor in the act of talking to customers.” She poured herself a mug of coffee and leaned against the counter. “How’s the campground coming along?”
Rob cringed. “We’re taking the cover off the pool when we get back. So we’ll see, I guess.”
She laughed, knowing just how long and hard Rob had worked on making the neglected, science experiment of a pool into something safe to swim in last spring. With money tight, they’d done it themselves, and Rob was clearly dreading having to do it again.
“We also had a lot of branches come down out back,” Danny added. “I’ve been cutting those up. I have to confess I really don’t like chainsaws. That’s Brian’s gig.”
Kenzie tilted her head. “Speaking of Brian, I thought I’d see him by now. Is he not coming up?”
She noticed the look that passed between Danny and his brother, and she hoped everybody was okay.
Then Danny shrugged. “They’re newlyweds, you know.
And they’ve got little Oliver. They’re fixing up their house a bit, so he took on some landscaping work with our aunt.
He used to do that before we bought the campground.
He kept the winter contracts for plowing and stuff, but this was going to be his summer job. ”
“So you’re taking his place?” she asked, her heart hammering in his chest. Was Danny actually going to relocate up here?
“Hell, no,” he said, and there was that phrase again. Hell, no. “Brian’s not doing maintenance. Just the big spring and early summer projects, so he’ll be up by the end of May or early June.”
“Hannah,” Frank yelled, and they both jumped because they were standing right there. “Order up.”
“Thank you,” she yelled back, matching his volume, and everybody laughed.
After they set the burgers in front of the guys, Kenzie turned to Hannah. “Do you want to grab something? I can finish up so you can eat with them.”
“Oh, I’m good. Frank accidentally made an extra salad a little while ago, and he told me either I ate it or he’d have to throw it away.” She smiled. “Funny how he accidentally made it with extra tomatoes and no olives or green peppers.”
Kenzie sent an affectionate look her father’s way, but he turned away from the window, pretending not to hear them. He was such a good, caring man, and it was moments like these that reminded her why she did this day after day. He loved this restaurant and he couldn’t do it without her.
Once Hannah had closed out her open tickets, she took off her apron and stuck it in the bin under the counter where Kenzie kept them to wash. The guys were done with their lunch, despite having a pretty in-depth conversation about the campground’s water system while they ate.
They were on their way out when Danny turned around and returned to the counter. “You close in a little over an hour. Do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking the cover off the pool and wielding a chainsaw?”
He grinned. “The cover won’t take long and the wood’s not going anywhere.”
Whatever it was he had in mind—probably a long walk in the woods—she definitely wanted in on.
But she wasn’t going to. There was really no sense in torturing herself with something she couldn’t have.
That hell, no was still bouncing around her mind, and it was a good reminder that no matter how often he looked at her as though she was the most important thing in his world, she actually wasn’t.
“I have some stuff I have to do today,” she said, wishing the disappointment didn’t dim his smile so much. “I can’t get out of it.”
“Sure,” he said, nodding. “Maybe another time. I’ll see you around.”
It took every ounce of her considerable willpower to watch him walk out the door without calling him back and telling him she’d changed her mind.