Hard Edge - Tess Oliver Page 0,8
he and Grady were planning to meet here in Mayfair this week to catch up on things. He looks completely bereft, of course. And a little wild looking with all sorts of tattoos,” she added unnecessarily and in a lower voice as if they might be able to hear her across the street. She took a deep breath and raised the volume again. “I always felt so sorry for Caden, bouncing back and forth between homes and never really belonging well in either. It’s no wonder that he was always in so much trouble.” It was amusing to think that she’d hushed herself about the tattoos but spoke quite freely about the Strattons never really treating Caden like part of the family, as if anyone could hear her opinion about that. “I think his parents thought four years as a soldier would straighten him up, but it seems, especially with what happened with his motorcycle racing career, that he is just as lost and shiftless as always.”
Aside from the wild tattoos, my mom wasn’t telling me anything new. I hadn’t really seen or spoken to Caden in years, but Grady had kept me up on everything. I’d known that Caden had survived some tough years in combat, coming out mostly unscathed or at least physically unhurt, only to nearly lose his leg with a compound fracture of the femur. After that, he just never seemed to find his place in the world.
“I’m sure Caden wouldn’t think so, but with what’s happened, maybe it was for the best that his career in racing ended early,” Mom added. “Do you think you could take the lasagna over this morning? It’s my day to drop off a meal, but I’ve got too much happening on the stove. And I know they’d like to see you.”
My stomach churned with nerves at the notion of walking into a house where everyone was in full shock and grief, a house filled with people who I knew well but who I hadn’t seen or spoken to in a long time. I had absolutely no idea what to say to any of them . . . especially Caden.
“If it will help you out, Mom, then I’ll walk over there. I won’t stay long though. I’m sure they aren’t in the mood for visitors. Besides, I won’t be much help. I’m not completely sure I’ll be able to hold it together.”
“Oh, Kenny.” Mom’s voice wavered again as she hugged me. “Life can change so drastically overnight. I’m so glad you’re home right now. I miss you. I wish you weren’t living so far away. When you get back from delivering the food, I’ll take a coffee break and you can tell me all about school and how Jeremy is doing. Oh, and I bought a few bridal magazines. I thought we could browse through them.”
“Mom, I don’t think I’ll be in the mood to look at wedding ideas.”
She waved her hand. “You’re right. How callous of me. We can look at those another time. I’ll get the lasagna.” She walked to the refrigerator.
I hadn’t clued my mom in on my shaky relationship with Jeremy, but I could save that for later. It was the last thing I needed or wanted to think about.
“It’s cool to the touch now, so it’ll be easy to carry,” Mom said as she pulled the foil pan out. “Tell Sally that this container is freezer ready. In case they don’t want to eat it right away.” Mom sighed as she handed it to me. “I just don’t know how they’ll get through this. Can’t even imagine.” Her voice broke up as it had a hundred times since I’d gotten home.
“Don’t, Mom, I don’t want to walk over there sobbing and sniffling. It’s the last thing they need.” I took hold of the pan. “I’m going to get going before I lose my nerve.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. And don’t forget to tell her it will keep just fine in the freezer,” she called to me as I walked out the door with the heavy casserole dish. She wanted me to talk to a woman who’d just lost her son about freezing lasagna. Sometimes it seemed my mom spent too much time in sugar-saturated vapors.
It was strange how being back under my parents’ roof hurled me back in time. I had a quick moment of nostalgia as I imagined myself fifteen again, carrying a casserole over to the Strattons for the summer block party. I