When you weren’t close with your parents, it was easy to forget that people who were told them everything.
“Yes. She bought it when I moved to the city. Even though she wasn’t happy about me moving there.” Kev’s expression was without judgment, and without meaning to, I was elaborating. “We’re not estranged or anything. My mom and I are just … different. She wasn’t happy that I pursued fashion even though I had sponsorships and a lot of my tuition was covered. She wanted me to go into academia.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a professor of English literature. My stepdad Charles is a poet.”
“Wordy folk.”
“Yeah.”
We were quiet for a while, finishing our drinks. Other than when he felt obligated to interrogate me based on some kind of international-parent accord, Kev was an easygoing guy.
I finished my mug and stacked our dishes. I would have bussed them properly but I didn’t know where to take them. The chef, Aroha, had eyed me very suspiciously yesterday, so I wasn’t going to walk into her domain uninvited.
“Did Mike give you that?” Kevin nodded at the road manual on the table.
“Yeah. He pitched a fit about my driving yesterday.”
I thought Kev would laugh at this, because he and Mike often made fun of each other. Instead, he looked serious.
“Make sure you read it carefully. Stay left. Every time you pull out, I want you to recite stay left. Say it in a silly voice, then you’ll remember it, okay?” Kev put on a squeaky voice. “Stay left.”
“I will, I promise.” I mimicked his voice. “Stay left.”
My giggle cut off as it abruptly dawned on me why Mike and his widowed father might be so intense about road safety.
My hand flew to my mouth.
Kev was looking away now, studying cars flying past on the main road.
I should have realized.
Without worrying if it was appropriate or if I was being too intense, I leaned forward and caught Kevin’s hand in both of mine. “I will be extremely careful,” I promised, staring into his eyes. “I got all A’s in drivers ed, and I drive every summer in Connecticut. I won’t forget to stay left or give way to the right if I come to a four-way stop. And now I know if I ever face a roundabout that I have to indicate before the entry and exit, unless I’m going straight, then that’s just the exit. I will be very careful behind the wheel, I promise, Kev.”
“Good.” Kev cleared his throat. “I know my son is a bit overzealous about it. And you can’t really get around without a car. But you need to be very careful.”
“I will.”
“There you go.” Kev patted me on the hand and stood. He was down to a single crutch now and looking pretty steady on it. Caroline would be pleased to hear this. She always worried that Mike and Kevin played down her dad’s health issues so they wouldn’t scare her.
“I’m sorry that Mike or I aren’t free to show you around today. It’s pretty much just this one road though.” He pointed at the pub. “That’s the pub.” And then in the direction of Cilla’s place. “That way is the river. If you go past either of those, you’re not in Woodville anymore. What day is it today?”
But he answered his own question, and we said together, “Thursday.”
Kev snapped his fingers at me, like a dad version of jinx.
Suddenly, I felt giddy. I wasn’t used to dad-age men caring about me (unless I was fucking them. And even then, it turned out they didn’t actually care. They were using me. I digress). My stepdad cared about me in a perfectly appropriate, non-creepy way, but he was often lost in his own ennui—his word not mine—or drowning in my mother’s aura. But Kevin Holliday had zero interest in fucking me. The idea would be abhorrent to him, I could tell. And he didn’t just care, he was joking with me and giving me advice and just generally being wonderful.
I had to blink to clear my vision.
“Mike doesn’t work on Saturdays, so after his game he can take you for a look around the neighboring towns,” Kevin was saying. “Danestown has minigolf now.”
I wasn’t sure what the right reaction to that was, but Kev wasn’t waiting on it. He ducked behind the front counter and pulled out a blue container. He shook it and the resulting rattle was merry. “Can you take this to Mike for me, please? They’re nuts for Mini M.”
“They’re what?”
“Horse pellets.”
