And, the old girl being the busy body that she is, if anyone knows where Kelly is and whether she's okay, it'll be Mary. It's enough to have me shoving my keys in the back pocket of my jeans and making straight for the brightly lit front porch.
While I try to temper my enthusiasm, my knock is still loud, with the old lady answering the door soon after, worry marring her sweet face. Thankfully, this disappears when she sees that it's me.
"Why, if it isn't young, Zac Thomas? Kelly was just telling me how you're progressing with the float. Come in. Come in. You'll join us for dinner, won't you? There's plenty to go around."
Despite my having just eaten, I accept, because it will give me a chance to test the waters with Kelly and see for myself, that she's okay. Of course, it'll also mean I can't ask her what happened earlier with that kiss.
When I think about it, that might not be a bad thing. Especially when I see Kelly sitting at a dinner table crowded with good china, candles, and a truck-load of cutlery. While it's formal, I get it isn't unusual in this household.
An elderly gent, I assume is Barry, sits at the head of the table, at ease with the over-the-top set-up. He also appears in rude good health for someone battling kidney stones.
However, Kelly looks on edge, although this might be because I've rocked up uninvited, rather than her worrying about which knife and fork to use.
After setting a place for me across from Kelly, Mary disappears into the kitchen to get a plate of food for me. Although not before telling me to, "Sit down and make yourself comfy."
Now there's no avoiding the sadness in Kelly's eyes. And blast, if I'm not responsible somehow. I'm therefore confused when I see the worry replaced with something approaching glee when Mary puts a heaping plate of food down in front of me.
"I hope you like meatballs because Barry doesn't have much of an appetite tonight. And I wasn't aware Kelly was a vegetarian until I was serving up. Still, that's extra meatballs for a growing boy like you."
This leaves me metaphorically scratching my head. While I can understand Barry being off his food if he's unwell, there's no way Kelly is a vegetarian. We've shared enough meat lover's pizza and green chicken curries while working on the float to understand that.
Why had she told Mary she was?
I find out when I come close to cracking a tooth on the first meatball. At least I think it's a meatball, because the blasted thing has more in common with kidney stones than fine cuisine.
At least now I know why Kelly is choking down laughter along with mashed potatoes that have a lot in common with spackle.
