Last Year's Mistake - Gina Ciocca Page 0,86

you.” I held the containers out toward him. “I believe I owe you some cookies.”

“Oh, what a sweet girl you are. You cheered my evening right up.”

My face fell. “Why do you need cheering? Is something wrong?”

“No, no! I’m fine, nothing like that.” He guided me into the kitchen and pulled out a chair, but I stopped short and gasped when I realized how different it looked. “You remodeled the kitchen!” I cried. The cabinets were new and white and the stone countertops gleamed. “It looks amazing!”

“So glad you like it! David and I did most of the work ourselves. Have a seat and I’ll get us some milk. You can help me make a dent in these wonderful cookies, not that I’ll need help once David sees them.”

“Um, where is David?”

“He took Violet to a movie. Should be back soon.” He took a carton of milk from the fridge. “Nice girl, that Violet. A little flighty, but she’s good to my boy.” He paused to pour the milk. “Anyhow, what I meant before is that it’s been a bit crazy around here. Getting David ready for college, getting the house ready for the market, getting ready to move again. David is a huge help of course, and it’s a godsend that I work from home. But still—whew—this year went by in a blink.”

He placed a glass of milk in front of me with a flourish and a smile, but I didn’t smile back. He’d lost me a few seconds ago. Somewhere around “getting ready to move again.”

“Move?” I repeated. “Move where?”

“Back to Connecticut, of course.” That must’ve been when he noticed my dumbfounded expression, because he tilted his head and looked at me in confusion. “We’d only planned to stay here for a year. David didn’t tell you?”

Cold spread through my insides even though I hadn’t touched my milk yet. “He didn’t say a word.” As usual.

Mr. Kerrigan nodded as if it made perfect sense. “He cared a lot about you, honey. He still does. In fact, I think you were a big part of the reason he agreed to come here so easily.”

I already knew that. Because David had told me.

“But why go back to Connecticut? I thought you inherited this house? Now you have to find another one?”

He shook his head. “We never sold the house in Connecticut. When my father died, this house was in my name, but I never intended to keep it. There’s no mortgage, but the taxes are high, and it’s too much house for David and me. I gave him a choice; we could rent out the house in Connecticut and live here while we got this house ready for the market, sort of a last hurrah before we said good-bye. Or, we could stay in Connecticut. Drive up here on the weekends and do what we needed to do in our free time. With my health being what it was, it didn’t make sense to do all that traveling. But I didn’t want to pull David out of school, so I told him the decision was his.” He smiled again. “You’d be surprised how little convincing it took.”

Suddenly I wanted to be back in my sheet cocoon in the worst possible way. In September I’d hoped David’s arrival in Rhode Island was a figment of my imagination—a huge misunderstanding. Now I hoped the same thing about this conversation.

“So you’re leaving again?”

“Not until after graduation. But definitely before the end of the summer, whether we have a buyer by then or not.”

“But I thought—”

The sound of the kitchen door opening interrupted my question. David came into the room, swatting at raindrops that shone like glitter against his black hair. “Hey, Kelse,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re leaving.” I’d meant to phrase it as a question, but it came out sounding like an accusation. Neither of us broke eye contact, but neither of us knew what to say.

Mr. Kerrigan pushed himself away from the table and stood up. “Look at these cookies Kelsey made for us!” He grabbed one of the containers and pushed it into David’s abdomen. “Why don’t you take these upstairs and show her your fish tank?”

David looked at his father as if he’d spoken complete gibberish.

Mr. Kerrigan patted his shoulder. “I think she’d like to see your fish.”

“Yeah,” David said, finally getting the hint. “Come on up, Kelse.”

It had been ages since I’d been in David’s room at this house. It felt foreign and familiar all at