“Oh, no.” She stopped walking, typing out a reply. “My dad asked me to pick up some cold medicine. The good kind that makes him sleep.”
“Damn. I heard there was a bug going around.”
Kenzie nodded as she added the request to the shopping list so she couldn’t forget, but her mind was already on the contingency plan if her dad-slash-cook couldn’t work. They didn’t happen often, but sick days were inevitable. If Frank was down, Nathan could step in with Kenzie doing some double duty, though they usually put up a sign announcing a simplified menu. In the past, if Kenzie was sick during the summer or a school vacation, her dad and Nathan would struggle through the morning until one of her high schoolers could get in. Worst-case scenario, they had to close. Now they were lucky enough to have Hannah around if necessary.
It definitely wasn’t ideal, but she’d make it work. She always did.
Even though business was on the slower side, getting through the next three days was a challenge. Nathan liked his job behind the swinging door because he was painfully shy and didn’t have to talk to anybody, as a rule. While he was comfortable enough with Kenzie, he wasn’t loud and pushy, like Frank, so she had to make sure she kept some of her attention focused on the pass-through window. She also had to take up some of the dish washing slack, since Nathan was at the grill. If there was a silver lining, though, itdidkeep her from thinking too much about Danny.
On Thursday night, she didn’t get home until almost nine o’clock, and she was beat. She found her dad in his recliner, and he was awake when she walked into the room, but she could tell he’d been nodding off to whatever crime show he was watching.
“How’d it go?” he asked, turning down the volume.
“Good. Spaghetti’s pretty easy, though the dishes suck.” She sank onto the couch, even though she wouldn’t be there long. Her bed was calling. “Nathan’s great. He’s just not as fast as you, which is to be expected. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I’ll be up and at ’em bright and early tomorrow morning. I probably could have gone in this morning, honestly, but I figured an extra day wouldn’t hurt.”
“Better to rest than relapse,” she said, echoing something her mother had said many times.
He chuckled. “So I’ve heard. And on that note, I’m going to lock up and head upstairs.”
Kenzie nodded, intending to do the same, but she ended up staring blankly at the television instead. Ten years she’d been doing this. Frank was a very healthy fifty-nine, so how many years were left before he decided to hang up his spatula? Ten? Fifteen? Knowing him, it could even be twenty.
The idea of every day for another decade or more being the same as every day in the decade before exhausted Kenzie even more than fourteen hours on her feet. After clicking off the television, she went upstairs and got ready for bed, leaving Frank to finish turning off the lights.
Once she was in bed, though, she didn’t go right to sleep. Instead she picked up the book from her nightstand and looked at the too-serious photo of Danny on the back. She ran her thumb over his jawline, smiling.
Then she put the book back and turned off the lamp. March had been a fun interlude, but another quote from her mother ran through her mind as she closed her eyes.
Nothing destroys contentment more than yearning for something you can’t have.
* * *
Danny loved his house. It was small, but it was private and set back in the woods. The river ran through his backyard, far enough back so he didn’t worry about flooding, but close enough so he could sit in his screened-in back porch and watch it flow while he drank his coffee. When the weather was warm, he’d often unplug his laptop and do some work out there.
With help from his cousins and brothers, he’d renovated the ancient cape-style home before moving in. The downstairs was mostly open concept, with only a large island separating the living room from the kitchen. Off to the side was a half bath and laundry room, along with a room that was technically a dining room. He never dined in there, preferring to sit at the kitchen island. Sometimes he’d have a jigsaw puzzle going.
Upstairs was a primary bedroom he’d given an en suite bathroom. On the other side of the hall, two smaller rooms shared a bathroom. One he used as an office, and the other he kept as a seldom-used guest bedroom.
The whole house was decorated in neutrals, mostly because he didn’t care and his mother had chosen a color palette that would go with anything if he ever got an itch to decorate. So far, he hadn’t. One of his younger cousins had called the look “sad beige,” whatever that meant. But his office and the back porch were well lived in, and designed for his comfort.
By the third week in April, though, he was antsy. The first week he’d been back, he’d thrown himself into touching base with his parents and the rest of the family, and into catching up on work. By keeping himself busy, he hadn’t had a lot of time—other than when he should have been sleeping—to think about Kenzie.
But a couple of weeks into his usual routine, she crept into his thoughts more and more.
He was sitting on his back porch, drinking coffee and ignoring the notebook sitting open on his side table, when a yellow Lab trotted into his yard and straight up the stairs. When she saw Danny, she gave a singlewoofand waited for him to get up and open the screen door. “Hey, Stella.”
Everybody in the family agreed that Brian’s dog was the best dog ever, and seeing her lifted his spirits. It lasted until his brother came around the corner of the house, his hands in his pockets and his mouth in a straight line.
“Is everybody okay?” Danny asked when he reached the top of the steps. “You look more grim than usual.”
When Brian grinned and shoved his shoulder, Danny felt a rush of relief. While something was definitely on his brother’s mind, it wasn’t anything too dire.
“Everybody’s fine, but I have to talk to you about something I’d rather not talk to you about.”
“Is it a rash?” Danny teased as he closed the door to keep Stella in. She had a tendency to dive into the river if they took their eyes off of her. “Are you waking up with sticky wet spots in your pajamas?”
“You’re such an ass,” Brian said, but he was smiling as they took their seats.
