“Yes. It was tiny. And I paid out the nose for it, which is wild now that I think about it. Anyway, Calista lived next door, and because of the rent, we couldn’t afford to go out. So she showed me how to play rummy.”
Chase gets up from the table and grabs Kennedy’s snack plate.
“Do you know how to play euchre?” Kennedy asks.
“What?”
“Euchre. Do you know how to play that?”
“I have no idea what euchre is,” I say.
Kennedy looks at her dad and sighs. “We’re gonna have to teach her. She can’t possibly go to Sunday dinners at Gram’s and not know how to play euchre. Luke will never let her live it down.”
Chase puts the plate in the sink. His shoulders are tight as he turns on the faucet. “Yeah, we’ll have to teach her.”
His tone is hollow. Uncertain. And after he shuts the water off and turns back around, he’s watching me warily. I understand why.
I shift in my seat. “Well, thank you for thinking of me. But when Maggie gets home, I’m going home. So no euchre for me.”
My breath stalls in my chest as I wait for one of them to say something.
It’s the truth. I won’t be here for Sunday dinners. They know that.
So why are the three of us acting so weird?
“I got some ice cream today.” My chair screeches across the hardwood. “Anyone want a bowl?”
“Nah, I think I’ll go to bed early,” Kennedy says. “My head hurts a little. Is that okay, Dad?”
“Sure. Go on, and I’ll come up and say good night in a little bit.”
Kennedy smiles at him. Her gaze slides past mine. The only acknowledgment she makes that I’m in the room is a slight nod before she disappears down the hallway.
Chase dries his hands while I sit, holding my breath. Something just happened, and I’m not sure what it was. But the room reads differently now. It’s stale, stuck as if it’s holding its breath too.
He walks by me toward the mudroom. “Come on.”
Huh?I’m confused, but I do as he asks. “Where are we going?”
“Let’s go for a walk.”
We’re quiet as we put on our jackets. I smile at the memory of picking out the calf-high rubber muck boots as I slide them on. Chase opens the door for me, and I enter the chilly evening air.
Mud slops around our steps as we round the side of the house. The breeze bites at my face, and I pull the top of my jacket over my mouth.
“I have to be out of here early. Earlier than usual tomorrow,” he says.
“Well, don’t expect me up then.” I look up at him and grin. “Five o’clock is my limit, and I barely make that.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Yeah. I thought you weren’t a morning person.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve been up every morning since you got here.”
“Well, drinking coffee and watching you putter around shirtless is my reward.”
Chase’s fingers flick my knuckle. I open my hand, and he slides his palm against mine, his fingers lacing through my cold digits.
