by Casie Bazay
I nod. “Yeah, think I need to go lie down.”
I finally manage to get out, and we both stand there for a moment, like we’re not sure if a hug is in order or not. Then Becka just waves and takes my place in the front seat. “Take care, K. J. I’ll check on you later.”
I creep up the porch stairs, trying my best not to jar my broken rib. Only after Mom and Becka back out of the drive does the strangeness of this whole situation strike me. For the first time in my life, there’s not a humongous freaking wall dividing my family, and I’m not sure how to feel about that.
The house smells mildly of lemon disinfectant and that floral carpet freshener Mom likes to use. She’s probably been cleaning like crazy since I’ve been gone. I’m not sure what will happen now that I’m back, but I’ll dwell on that later. Right now, I’m beat. I grab a Dr Pepper and a bag of potato chips from the kitchen and settle onto the couch. I’m about to turn on the TV when my phone rings on the end table beside me. I don’t know the number but answer just in case it’s someone from the hospital with lab results or something like that.
“Katherine?” an unfamiliar male voice asks.
“Yes?”
“Um, hi. It’s Sam. Your, uh, father.”
Well, that’s definitely not who I was expecting. My eyes go wide and my voice catches in my throat as I try to mumble any word in the English language.
“I heard you were in the hospital, and I just wanted to call and check on you.”
A million questions are running through my mind, like, “Why now?” or “Why do you even care?” But instead I clear my throat and just say, “Uh huh,” like a dummy.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” At least I can manage words now.
We’re both quiet for several seconds. I have no clue what to say to the man who has been missing for my entire life.
“So—” he gives a nervous chuckle “—I don’t know where to begin really, but I’d love to meet you. You have no idea how often I’ve thought of you over the years.”
“Oh yeah?” I wish I could think of something better or more profound to say.
“Could I maybe take you to lunch one day? After you’re feeling up to it, that is?”
I rack my brain for excuses but can’t seem to think of any. I could just say “No, I don’t want to,” but my vocal cords defy me again. “I guess.” I run a palm down the side of my face.
“Oh. Oh, good.” He actually sounds excited and nervous, like he didn’t expect me to agree to this, but hell, I didn’t expect to give in so easily either. “That would be great. Maybe next weekend? Or if that’s too soon, we can plan another time.”
“What about Becka?” I blurt out. “Can she come, too?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. I just…” He doesn’t have to say it. I already know what he’s thinking.
“We get along now. It’s fine. I’d like her to be there with me.” As I say this, I realize Becka must have gone ahead and given Sam my number, but I’m not really mad about it.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Both my daughters.” He seems to choke on that last word—like he’s still trying to get a handle on all of this, too.
“All right.” I lean back on my pillows and cringe from the movement.
“I’ll let you get some rest. I’m sure you’re tired, but I’ll be in touch later this week… if that’s okay.”
“Yeah. Sure. That’s fine.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says. “Talk to you later.”
“Later.” I hang up and stare at the phone. Did I actually just have a conversation with my dad? I’m not sure this month could get any weirder.
I turn on the TV and take a sip of my Dr Pepper, but it doesn’t take long for exhaustion to take over. Ever so carefully, I scoot down so that I’m nearly flat on my back. The TV drones quietly in the background, and in a matter of minutes, I’m out.
I’m still in a sleepy haze when I hear two voices softly floating across the room. I turn my head to see Mom and Carter in the kitchen. There’s a vase full of yellow daisies on the counter, and Mom’s telling Carter about my accident. They don’t know I’m awake, so I just lie here, listening for a minute.
“Christ,” Carter says, “she’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“I know,” Mom says. “I can’t believe she entered that event. I mean, they shouldn’t even let people do things like that. It’s so stupid.”
“I can hear you, you know,” I say.
Both their heads snap in my direction.
“Oh, sorry,” Mom says, “but it is a stupid event.”
I have to agree with her there, but I don’t feel like saying so out loud and giving her that satisfaction.
I scooch back up to a sitting position, my jaw tightening as I do so.
Mom’s expression quickly mirrors my own. “Do you need another one of your pain pills? I got your prescription filled while I was out.”
Wow, look at her being all responsible and motherly now. “Yeah, please.” Carter comes to sit on the other end of the couch, concern evident in his sea-green eyes. “Sorry, I forgot to call you,” I tell him. “I fell asleep.”
“It’s okay.” He jiggles one knee while staring at the floor. “Sorry about last night,” he says. “I should have gone with you.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Even if you had gone, I doubt you could have stopped me from doing the event.”
He smiles. “True. You do what you want usually.”
“Yep, but at least I finished Grandpa’s list. I might have to spend all my inheritance on hospital bills, but it’s done.”
“I hope not. Aren’t you supposed to spend it on college?”
“You don’t need to worry about the bills,” Mom butts in as she hands me a pill. I wash it down with a sip of lukewarm Dr Pepper. “I’m taking care of everything.”
Carter and I both turn to look at her. She’s changed clothes since we left the hospital and now wears a sleeveless denim shirt and jeans, but still no makeup. She looks like she could crash at any moment.
“Okay,” I say. She’s trying to redeem herself, and I’m going to let her. After all, she has inheritance money coming, too. “You should really go take a nap, Mom.”
“Yeah, I probably should. I took the day off, so I guess I’ve got time.”
“Oh,” Carter says, pushing to his feet. “I brought you flowers.” He grabs the vase and brings it over, setting it on the end table next to my Dr Pepper. “I wasn’t sure what color you’d like, but yellow seemed good. It’s a happy color, you know.”
I snort, but my hand flies to my mouth as I realize I’m coming off as rude. I’d only done it because I’m wondering who this person is inhabiting my best friend’s body. “Thanks,” I say. “I like them, and yellow’s good.”
Little splotches of pink have begun to color his cheeks. “Glad you like them. I mean, I figured that’s just something you’re supposed to do when someone’s in the hospital… or just got home from one anyway.”
I can feel my own cheeks starting to color as I search my brain for something else to say. It’s like we’re back at that awkward moment right after the kiss again.
Mom busies herself in the kitchen, wiping down an already-clean counter and putting a few dishes away. Then she gives a yawn, which seems totally forced. “Boy, I am tired. Think I’ll go lie down now.”
Once her bedroom door closes, Carter sits down again, turning to watch the television, where some infomercial on microwavable Tupperware is playing. “So are you staying here?” he asks. It’s subtle but I think there’s a hint of something like sadness in his voice.
I shift in my seat, then grimace again. I’ve got to quit moving around so much. “I think so. For now, anyway. Don’t know what my long-term plans are yet.”
He nods as if maybe he suspected that might be the case. “I’m gonna miss having you around.”
“I know, but it’s probably better this way.”
“Sorry. I guess I’ve been a pr
etty sucky friend lately.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I promise to do better.” He turns to look at me. “If you still want to hang out, that is.”
“Of course I still want to hang out.”
Carter looks more than a little relieved at my response. Did he really think I was going to ditch him just because we had a little spat?
“Well, I guess I should let you get some rest,” he says, getting to his feet again. “Glad you’re okay and not brain damaged or anything.”
“Ha ha.”
He smiles and sweeps his hair behind one ear. “I’ll text you later, ’kay?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
After the front door closes, my gaze travels back to the daisies beside me, and I can’t help but smile. No one has ever brought me flowers before.
CHAPTER 32
BECKA
THE SCENT OF SPEARMINT FILLS MY CAR AS K. J. chomps on what must be her third piece of gum, her jaw moving about a hundred miles an hour. I’ve never seen her like this before, but I’m guessing it’s just a major case of nerves.
“How’s your rib?” I ask, peering her way. She’s wearing a black Nirvana T-shirt and cutoff jean shorts, but she’s done something different with her hair—maybe put some gel in it. It brings out the curliness, which is surprisingly cute on her.
“Still hurts, but it’s getting better.” She rolls down the window and spits the gum out, only to start bouncing a knee instead. “Do you think he’ll like me?”
I offer a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he will. But honestly, who cares? It’s not like he’s an outstanding dad or anything.”
K. J. drops a hand onto her leg, stilling it, as if annoyed by her own nervousness.
“Hey, listen,” I say, “I need to apologize for something. It’s been bothering me for a while now, actually.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m sorry for punching you in the face. Back at Yellowstone.”
“No worries,” K. J. says, one side of her mouth lifting in a smirk. “I deserved it.”
Despite my guilt, I have to smile, too. “Yeah, you kind of did, but I still feel bad. It left a bruise.”
“Johan was probably impressed with your upper arm strength.”
A laugh bubbles out before I can stop it. “I don’t know about that. He was probably just shocked I hit you. Everyone was—even me.”
K. J. scratches at her arm. “Guess I should apologize, too. Sorry I ruined things between you two. I mean it was probably a lost cause anyway, because of the whole long-distance thing. And maybe the age. But I was a shit, I know that.”
“You didn’t ruin things. We’ve been texting. He’ll be coming through Siloam Springs this winter on a road trip, and we’re going to meet up.”
K. J. peers at me, incredulous. “You sneaky son of a…”
“I doubt anything will come of it, but… I guess stranger things have happened.”
“That’s for sure.”
We give each other a small smile before I turn my attention back to the road. There’s no need to mention what those things are. We both know all too well.
“I actually kinda liked Johan,” she says. “I hope you two end up getting married or something.”
I hold up a hand. “Whoa, no one said anything about getting married. It’s just a date.” At least I’m hoping that’s what he’ll see it as. “I don’t plan on getting married for a long time.” If at all, considering our family’s track record when it comes to committed relationships.
We pass through another stoplight, and Cathy’s Corner, with its giant red and white sign, appears ahead on our right. It was Sam’s suggestion.
“You ready for this?” I ask K. J.
She draws in a deep breath. “Ready as I can be, I guess.”
Inside, the restaurant smells like greasy hamburgers and fried chicken, and even though I had a big breakfast with Mom and Tim just a few hours ago, my stomach still rumbles in response. We’re a few minutes late, so I scan the tables for Sam. He waves from a booth near the middle of the restaurant. Beside me, K. J. freezes.
“Come on,” I say, tugging at her elbow. “He won’t bite.”
Sam stands and runs a hand through his dark, wavy hair before offering a smile. He looks nice, though he’s wearing his usual car salesman attire—tan slacks and a white polo.
“Hey,” I say, mustering the nonchalance I always use around my father.
“Hi, girls.” His eyes keep moving to K. J. as if he can’t believe she’s really here.
“K. J., this is Sam,” I say, motioning between the two of them. “Sam, K. J.”
He extends a hand and K. J. shakes it. “Nice to meet you, sir,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow at K. J. as Sam gives a nervous laugh.
“You don’t need to call me ‘sir.’” He gestures to the seat across from him, urging us to sit. I let K. J. scoot into the booth first.
Sam’s eyes ping-pong between us, and then he shakes his head. “Wow… Just wow. I can’t believe I have both my daughters here. Together.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes. “Yeah, well it’s happening.”
He focuses on K. J. again, who seems to be at a loss for words. “So, Katherine. Tell me about yourself.”
“It’s K. J.,” I correct him.
“It’s fine. He can call me Katherine.”
I squint at her. Who is this person sitting next to me?
She clears her throat. “Um. I’m eighteen. I’m sure you know that, though. I graduated from Colcord High School in May, and I’m starting at NorthWest Arkansas in a couple weeks.”
“You are?” I ask. We hadn’t gotten around to talking about college on the car ride over.
“Yep, I got my acceptance letter and enrolled… and stuff.”
I grin. “Good for you!”
“That’s really great,” Sam says. “What are you planning to major in?”
“I’ve been thinking about art and design. Or graphic design. But those are just some ideas. Need to get through my basics first.” She clears her throat again.
Sam looks at me. “And you’re still planning to major in sports medicine?”
“Probably.” I’ve always had a straightforward plan for my life, but after all that’s changed in the last few months, I want to at least keep my options open.
A waitress appears, placing a menu in front of each of us. “Sorry about the wait,” she says, sounding out of breath. “Can I go ahead and get your drinks?
We each order a drink and then read over our menus. I already know what I want—the chicken tender basket. But K. J. seems indecisive and is still reading over the options. I think back to the last time we ate together, how confident she was trying to order wine for the both of us. That was back when we were just cousins—not sisters. She seems like a different person today, and I wish she wasn’t so nervous.
Sam’s eyes flick between the tattoos on our wrists, but he doesn’t ask about them. “Order anything you like,” he reassures K. J. “My treat.”
Damn right, it’s your treat, I think, and then smile because it’s something K. J. would say.
The waitress returns, and Sam and I order first, giving K. J. a little more time to make up her mind. She finally opts for the Philly cheesesteak sandwich. The waitress takes our menus, leaving us with nothing to look at but each other again.
Sam shifts in his seat, still appearing uncomfortable. His phone buzzes, but he ignores it. “So Becka told me you girls did some traveling this summer?”
K. J. nods but doesn’t offer any information.
He takes a sip of his iced tea and smiles again, revealing the dimple on his left cheek. The one he passed on to me. I suddenly find myself wondering if K. J. has it, too. “I’d like to hear all about it,” Sam says. “Where’d you go first?”
“The Grand Canyon,” K. J. answers. “We rode mules down to the bottom.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, that musta been
something.”
“I loved it,” she says as she nudges me with her elbow, “but Becka about peed her pants she was so scared.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
K. J. laughs. “Don’t lie. You know you were terrified.”
I give a small shrug. “Okay, maybe a little.” Then I can’t help but smile. “It was soooo pretty, though. I’d do it again, but definitely not on a mule.”
K. J.’s eyes light up with excitement. “Yeah, we could hike it. I’d have to get in better shape, but I think I might be able to do it. And we could stay at Phantom Ranch again.”
“Maybe after we graduate from college,” I suggest. “It could be a reunion trip.”
She nods her head. “If we’re doing a reunion trip, I wanna go back to the Keys, too. That place was so awesome.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “We need a do-over at the Keys, but maybe we can fly instead of drive next time.”
“That was a long-ass trip.” K. J.’s hand flies to her mouth, and she quickly looks at Sam. It’s like we’d both forgotten he was here for a moment.
He laughs. “I’ll bet. Sounds like you two really got to know each other this summer. And it sounds like it was a great experience.”
K. J. and I turn to look at one another, and she smiles again. Sure enough, the dimple is there, though not nearly as pronounced as mine or Sam’s. Still, the fact that it’s there makes me so unexplainably happy.
“It’s been pretty incredible,” I say. In more ways than one.
Sam’s face grows more serious as he studies K. J. for several seconds. She notices and squirms uncomfortably in her seat.
“I just want to say I’m sorry,” he says. His eyes shift to me. “To both of you, really, but especially to you, K. J. I’ve really let you down. I wish I would have spoken up, but your mom… well, I just didn’t know what to do.” His gaze drops to the table. “I’m sorry.”
Several responses come to my mind, but I can’t seem to choose which one is most appropriate. It seems everyone is apologizing today, but this is one I didn’t see coming.
“You should be sorry,” K. J. says, surprising Sam and me both.
His head snaps up. His brow furrows and then falls, and he looks sadder than I’ve ever seen him. It’s almost enough to make me feel sorry for him. Almost. K. J. straightens in her seat and levels him with a hard gaze.
