I heard the door again. A moment later, the cook from the Egg who’d been eyeing me earlier was cutting through the living room. He was still wearing an apron, although he’d freed himself from the part that circled the neck, letting it hang down over his waist. In his arms was a box of mason jars.
“Ben?” Kasey said as he came onto the porch. “What are you doing here?”
A clank as he put the jars down on the table. “It was slow for a minute,” he said. Now that he was close by, I picked up a slight smell of bacon, not entirely unpleasant. “And Cardoon came in asking about the flowers.”
“Crap.” Kasey flipped her wrist over, studying the large watch there. “Is it already ten?”
Ten? So weird I hadn’t heard anything from Colin. I wondered if I should be worried.
Looking at my phone, I figured out one problem: It was barely registering a signal. I got up and started walking around,looking for better reception. As I came into the kitchen, right in front of the sink, it inched up to half a bar.
“Can I slide in there?” Kasey asked. She had a pitcher of water in her hand. Though I only moved aside the tiniest bit, the signal dropped out again. I sighed.
“Everything okay?” my mom asked.
“Yeah,” I told her. “Just can’t connect for some reason.”
“The reception here is terrible,” Kasey said, cutting off the faucet and heading back to the table. “You should go to the dock.”
I turned, looking toward the lake. “It’s better down there?”
“Not that dock. The loading dock. At the Egg.” She was pouring water into the jars, Ben then adding a bouquet to each jar. “It’s the only place around with five bars. It’s where I talk to my lawyer.”
“Seems a long way to go,” my mom observed.
“I try not to do it that often.” Kasey began putting the jars back in the box, carefully. “She’ll be thrilled to hear about this, though. Almost as happy as you.”
She said this lightly, still busy with the bouquets. As if it was nothing. But it hit my mom, sharp and exact, who said, “I didn’t decide all alone to sell, Kasey.”
Kasey looked up. “Cat, you don’t care about this place like we do. That’s all I’m saying.”
I’d picked up on this from the jump. But weirdly, my mom looked hurt. “I was under the impression that everyone was in agreement. Isn’t that what all the calls and emails were about?”
“You mean the ones you ignored until yesterday?” Kasey replied, jamming some flowers into a jar. Ben looked up at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Are we really going to get into this now?” my mom asked.
“Would you prefer we wait until we’re selling everything?”
“Kasey, honestly.” My mom glanced the stairs, then lowered her voice. “I expected this from Liz. She’s always been sentimental. But you—”
“What?” Kasey asked. Clip. Clip. “What am I? More like you?”
“You’re not waxing on about the breakfront.”
Now Ben looked at me. Like we were both kids and our parents were sparring.
“True. But I have been here all these years.” Kasey did another jar. “Showing up out of nowhere and telling us what to do? That’s ballsy even for you, Cat.”
“You demanded I come and now you want me to butt out,” my mom countered. “Make up your mind.”
“You’re right, I guess it’s on us. We should have known you couldn’t be hereandhave any empathy for anyone but yourself.”
“I have empathy.” My mom’s tone was short, though, as if she was trying to prove otherwise. Maybe this was why she took a breath before adding, “I’m also realistic about this place and its history.”
“Realistic?” Kasey repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
My mom sucked in a breath, about to reply. Then she looked at me, clearing her throat instead.
