Mindy Klasky - The Daddy Dance

“Fine.” Kat curved her lips into the smile she had mastered in her long-ago acting classes. Her father was fine. Susan was fine. Jenny was fine. Everyone was fine, and Kat would be on a northbound train in less than a week.

“Colon cancer can be rough.” Rye’s voice was filled with sympathy.

“They say they caught it in time.” Kat was afraid to voice her fears—Mike’s recovery had taken longer than anyone had expected. He’d been in and out of the hospital for six months, and now, with pneumonia …

At least Rye seemed to believe her. He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he assured her, “Everyone’s been real worried about them. Just last week, my mother had me bring by some of her chicken almond casserole. It’ll get your father back on his feet in no time.”

Kat couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked for a sick friend. Oh, well. Things were different down here. People had different ways to show they cared. She tried to recall the lessons in politeness that her mother had drilled into her, years before. “I’m sure it was delicious. It was kind of you to bring it by.”

Rye wondered if he’d somehow made Kat angry—she sounded so stiff. Her hands were folded in her lap, her fingers wrapped around each other in perfect precision, like coils of rope, fresh from the factory. She sat upright like a soldier, keeping her spine from touching the back of her seat. Her eyes flashed as they drove past familiar streets, and each intersection tightened the cords in her throat.

And then it came to him: Kat wasn’t angry. She was frightened.

One thing Rye had learned in almost thirty years of dealing with siblings and cousins was how to ease the mind of someone who was afraid. Just talk to them. It was easy enough to spin out a story or two about Eden Falls. He might have moved away, but he could always dredge up something entertaining about the only real home he’d ever known.

He nodded to the row of little shops they were passing. “Miss Emily just closed up her pet store.”

Kat barely glanced at the brightly painted storefront, and for a second he thought she might not take the bait. Finally, though, she asked, “What happened?”

“She couldn’t stand to see any of the animals in cages. She sold off all the mice and gerbils and fish, and then she took in a couple of litters of kittens. She gave them free rein over the whole shop. Problem was, she fell in love with the kittens too much to sell them. If she took money, she couldn’t be sure the animals were going to a good home. So instead of selling them, she gave them away to the best owners she could find. In the end, she decided it didn’t make much sense to pay rent. Anyone who wants a kitten now just goes up to her house and knocks on the front door.”

There. That was better. He actually caught a hint of a smile on Kat’s lips. Lisa, of course, was rolling her eyes, but at least his sister didn’t call him a liar. As long as he was on a roll, he nodded toward the elementary school they were passing. “Remember classes there? They had to skip the Christmas pageant last December because the boa constrictor in the fourth-grade classroom got out. None of the parents would come see the show until the snake was found. The kids are going to sing ‘Jingle Bells’ for the Easter parade.”

Kat couldn’t help herself. She had to ask. “Did they ever find the snake?”

“He finally came out about a week ago. The janitor found him sunning himself on the parking lot, none the worse for wear. He was hungry, though. They used to feed him mice from Miss Emily’s.”

Kat wrinkled her nose, but she had to laugh. She had to admit—she couldn’t imagine the National Ballet School having similar problems. And they would never have postponed a performance, snake or no snake, especially a holiday showcase like a Christmas pageant.

Rye eased up to the curb in front of her parents’ house, shoving the gearshift into Park. He hopped out of the truck as Kat said goodbye to Lisa. She joined him by the deep bed. “Thank you,” she said. And somehow, she meant to thank him for more than the ride. She meant to tell him that she appreciated the effort he had made, the way that he had tried to distract her from her worry.

“My pleasure,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat. “Harmon Contracting is a full-service provider.” He hefted her suitcase out of the truck, shrugging it into a more comfortable position as he nodded for Kat to precede him up the driveway.

“Oh, I can get that,” she said, reaching for the bag.

“It’s no problem.”

“Please,” she said, carving an edge onto the word. She’d learned long ago how to get her way in the bustling streets of New York. She knew the precise angle to hold her shoulders, the exact line to set her chin. No one would dare argue with her when she’d strapped on her big city armor.

Rye recognized that stance; he’d seen it often enough in his own sisters, in his mother. Kat Morehouse was not going to give in easily.

And there really wasn’t any reason to push the matter. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a thousand other things to do that afternoon—the dog walking Lisa had mentioned, and the T-ball practice, but also phone calls back to Richmond, trying to keep his fledgling business alive while he was on the road.

And yet, he really didn’t want to leave Kat here, alone. If he turned his head just a little, he could still see the girl she’d been, the stubborn, studious child who had defied convention, who had done what she wanted to do, had carved out the life she wanted, never letting little Eden Falls stop her in her tracks.

But there would be time enough to see Kat again. She wasn’t going to disappear overnight, and he was in town for the whole weekend. He could stop by the next day. Think of some excuse between now and then. He extended the handle on the roller bag, turning it around to make it easier for Kat to grasp. “Have it your way,” he said, adding a smile.

“Thanks,” Kat said, and she hustled up the driveway, relying on the roller bag to disguise the lurch of her booted foot. Only when she reached the door did she wonder if she should go back to Rye’s truck, thank him properly for the ride. After all, he’d done her a real favor, bringing her home. And she wouldn’t mind taking one last look at those slate-black eyes, at the smooth planes of his face, at his rugged jaw….

She shook her head, though, reminding herself to concentrate. She was through with men. Through with distractions that just consumed her time, that took her away from the things that were truly important, from the things that mattered. She might have been an idiot to get involved with Adam, but at least she could translate her disappointing experience into something useful.

Waving a calculatedly jaunty farewell toward Rye and Lisa, Kat threw back her shoulders, took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Of course the front door was unlocked; it always was. In New York, Kat had to work three different locks on the door of the apartment she shared with Haley, every single time she went in or out. Things were simpler here in Eden Falls. Easier. Safer.

Boring.

Pushing down her automatic derogatory thoughts about the town that had kept her parents happy for their entire lives, Kat stepped over the threshold. And then she caught her breath at the scene inside the old brick rambler.

Chaos. Utter, complete chaos.

A radio blasted from the kitchen, some mournful weatherman announcing that the temperature was going to top ninety, a new record high for the last day in March. A teakettle shrieked on the stovetop, piercing the entire house with its urgent demand. In the living room, a television roared the jingle from a video game, the same four bars of music, over and over and over again. From the master bedroom, a man shouted, “Fine! Let me do it, then!” and a shrill child’s voice repeated, “I’m helping! I’m helping!”