things she thought he might say, that wasn’t one of them. “So that’s why you said no?”
“Sure.” He nodded, then his expression turned confused. “Why else?”
“Er, no reason.” She blinked as she realized that Curtis must be the only student at Burtonwood who didn’t know what “going to the practice range” was code for, but before she could say anything else, the taxi suddenly turned onto a quiet suburban street and too late she realized that she had been so focused on her conversation with Curtis that she was now woefully unprepared for her visit.
The taxi slowed down and came to a halt. Emma felt something catch in her throat as she stared out at the pale wood veneer and teak trim of the house on Larnark Road. It was the place she had grown up, but it no longer felt like home.
“Are you okay?” Curtis asked from beside her.
“I’m fine,” Emma said, a little bit too quickly, as she busied herself getting out of the taxi, hoping he couldn’t see her reaction. Curtis followed. She didn’t even like telling Loni about her dad, so she was hardly going to talk to Curtis about him, even if they were friends now. Especially because to the outside world her dad was a pretty decent guy. Cheerful, happy, supportive. Capable of transferring his affections from her mom to Olivia less than a year after her mom had died.
Then without saying another word she hurried up the path and knocked on the door of the place she had once called home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Emma. This is a wonderful surprise. We didn’t expect you.” Olivia appeared at the door wearing a soft green sweater to hide her baby bump, while deeper in the house Emma could hear the faint sound of music and smelled roast pork wafting through to the front. Turning up here unannounced suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea, and she felt a flood of emotions catch in her chest.
“Er, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” Emma reluctantly stepped out of the cool autumn evening into the warmth of the house. Curtis followed.
“Don’t be silly, you’re not interrupting anything,” Olivia assured them before ushering them into the living room, which had once been papered in sky-blue stripes but had now been painted a pale yellow, while the old comfy sofas that Emma had bounced on as a child had been replaced by stiff brown leather ones. As for the floor, the white carpet that she remembered had been ripped up, and in its place were polished hardwood floors and large Turkish rugs.
“You’ve redecorated?” Emma felt a lump form in her throat as she tried very hard not to notice that her mom’s antique console table was no longer under the window and there were no signs of the silver-framed photographs that used to sit on top of it.
“Oh yes, I forgot you haven’t been here in a while. I know there’s still two months to go, but we thought we’d better start making the house baby-proof. Do you like it?” Before Emma was forced to answer, her dad came into the room.
“Ah, so you haven’t been eaten by swamp monsters. I was starting to wonder when I didn’t hear back from you.” He crossed over to her as he undid the frilly apron that he insisted on wearing when he cooked.
“Hey, Dad. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. I know I promised I’d call every day after the accident. It’s just, well . . . it’s been a weird week.”
“Well, at least you’re here now,” he said as he hugged her before stepping back so he could inspect her face. “So how’s the eye? I see the patch is off, which is a good sign. Does it still hurt?”
“No, it’s better now,” Emma hastily assured him, feeling guilty that she kept forgetting to return his calls. Despite how awkward things sometimes felt, she knew he probably had been genuinely worried. Then she realized her dad was looking at Curtis with interest, and she reluctantly nodded toward him. “Anyway, this is Curtis. He goes to Burtonwood with me.”
“Ah, the dragon slayer. Olivia told me she met you at the mall.” Her dad held out his hand. “So have you had any luck with a kreplin yet? Most of the time I’m happy to be sight-blind, but I must admit when Emma’s mom used to talk about the green kreplins, I had a longing to see them for myself.”
“Hey, Mr. Jones.” Curtis