Adam stopped at Rebecca’s café on his way to Kyle’s house. Rebecca had called to invite Adam to dinner with her family after their hike. When he had declined, she’d pestered him until he’d been forced to explain why. He was so concerned about boundaries with Kyle, but maybe he needed to have a talk with his big sister about those too.
Rebecca had insisted he could not go empty-handed and had told him to come to the café to pick up dessert. The girl behind the counter passed him a pastry box without a word, like they were exchanging classified information. He was surprised when she didn’t ask for a password, but he didn’t bother to ask what was in the box. He thanked her instead and got back in the car.
Within not nearly enough time, he rang the doorbell at the address Kyle had given him.
There was silence for a minute, then the sound of running footsteps and the door was hauled open to reveal a breathless Caroline. Her earlier hairstyle was gone, but her clothes had been replaced with a purple princess costume.
“Hi, Mr. Hathaway!” she said.
“Hi, Caroline.” Adam smiled. “Can I come in?” Caroline stepped aside, and he entered the house. There was no sign of Kyle.
“What’s that?” Caroline indicated the pastry box.
“I brought a treat for you and your dad.”
“Do you want to see him?” Caroline asked.
“Your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he here?” It struck Adam as odd that Kyle hadn’t come to the door. He didn’t know a lot of parents who would let their six-year-olds act as gatekeeper.
“He’s in the kitchen,” Caroline turned and walked in what was presumably the direction of the kitchen. Her purple dress swished and sparkled as she went. Adam followed.
“He’s working,” she whispered, “so we have to be quiet.”
Adam frowned. Working on a Saturday night? Was he early? He checked his watch; six on the dot. As they walked up the hall, he heard Kyle’s voice.
“I know, Shannon, but Vegas is going to be super hot in the summer. Are you sure you don’t want somewhere a little cooler, or less crowded? Maybe a spa somewhere?” Kyle’s eyes met Adam’s. “One second, Shannon.” He pulled the phone away from his face and put a palm over the handset. “Hi. Sorry, this will be another five minutes tops. You can put that—” he gestured at the box “—on the table over there. Caroline, can you take Mr. Hathaway’s coat and hang it up where Daddy and Grandpa put their coats, and then maybe you can give him a tour of the house while I finish my call?”
“Okay,” she said.
“I’m really sorry; give me five, and then I’m all yours.” Kyle’s words made Adam’s stomach flip. He clenched his fists as he tried to ignore the feeling.
“Come on, Mr. Hathaway!” Caroline was already walking out of the kitchen. She didn’t bother to check if he followed. They went back to the front door, where Adam took off his coat, and Caroline hung it on a low green hook next to the bright-yellow rain coat he’d seen her wear at school. He wasn’t sure if this was what Kyle had meant, but his jacket wasn’t dragging on the floor, so he didn’t push it.
“Come see my room!” Caroline took off at a run. They went up the stairs to the second floor and down to the last door at the end of the hall. Inside was a child’s bedroom with an identity crisis. The floor was scattered with various toys, mostly princesses and other dolls with shiny hair. A neat line of plastic horses stood on the windowsill.
The room itself had been decorated in an All-American theme, red and white striped wallpaper to molding that ran around the middle of the room, and then navy blue paint to the ceiling. There were faded comic-book posters in one corner, and several plastic trophies on an old desk by the window. On the wall was a framed photo set showing a smiling team of kids dressed in matching T-shirts and baseball caps. Next to it was a picture of a child with a baseball bat propped over one shoulder. His smile was so wide that his eyes were shut. The picture was printed like a baseball card, and under it was written:
K. Fenton
Outfielder
Red Creek Junior B Baseball
1997
“Was this your dad’s room?” Adam asked.
“Yeah, but he said he was too big to sleep in the bed so I can have it now.”
The bed was a single with a high wooden headboard and footboard. Adam imagined the prospect of returning to his parent’s house and being given his old room back. “I’ll bet.”
“Come on!” Caroline grabbed his hand and tugged him out into the hall. “I’ll show you the rest.”
Caroline’s tour guide skills were very thorough. She showed him the bathroom, linen closet, her grandfather’s room, and Kyle’s room. This last room had, Adam noticed, a queen-size bed and no childhood memorabilia. In fact, the room had almost no personality at all, only neutral beige walls, a gray bedspread, and a pair of jeans folded over a chair in one corner.
Caroline was already halfway downstairs as Adam turned. The tour was clearly over, so he took his time, and paused in front of a row of framed pictures that hung on the wall down the steps. There were a few school photos, showing Kyle with a mop of brown hair and an open smile, sometimes with missing teeth from one year to the next. There was a picture of Kyle and his father at the beach. The older man was buried up to his neck in the sand. Kyle might have been about ten, and he stood next to his dad, hands fisted on his hips in pride. A middle school picture with a bored preteen Kyle, giving only the barest of smiles, the metallic glint of braces peeking out from between his lips.
A high school graduation picture, again of Kyle and his dad, with teenage Kyle’s hair so long it swept into his eyes. His father stood smiling next to his son, although there was a distinct space between them.
Another graduation picture, presumably college. Kyle’s face was thinner than in the high school picture. His dad was next to him again, standing tall and proud this time, with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders.
Then a baby picture, a pink newborn wrapped in an equally pink blanket. Then baby Caroline sitting in the bathtub laughing. Then a picture of Kyle asleep in a chair, with Caroline curled up in his lap, also asleep. Sunlight from an unseen window poured across their faces, washing them in an orange glow. In sleep, neither one of them showed the boundless energy that seemed to radiate from them when they were awake.
The last was a recent picture, taken outdoors among autumn red and orange trees, with a smiling Caroline held in the arms of a laughing woman. The woman’s hair was dark, almost black, her face tanned. Kyle stood a step away from them, also laughing at whoever held the camera.
“Sorry.” Kyle’s voice cut through Adam’s exploration. “That took longer than I expected.” He came to stand at the bottom of the steps. “I see you found my dad’s wall of shame.”
“It’s nice.”
“I keep telling him we can take some of the school ones down, but he won’t listen.” Kyle’s features shifted at the sight of the last family portrait, and Adam scrambled for a change of subject.
“Did your parents split up?” He winced. That was not a better option.
“When I was little,” Kyle answered, voice matter-of-fact. “How did you figure that out?”
Adam shrugged, embarrassed. “Your mom isn’t in any of the pictures.”
“She could have been camera shy,” Kyle said.
Adam shook his head. “Not even at your graduation? Or with Caroline? If I learned anything from my own mom and my nephews, it’s that grandmothers can never take too many pictures with their grandkids.”
“Probably true.”
“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I shouldn’t have pried.”
It was Kyle’s turn to shake his head. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago. She lives with my stepdad in Philadelphia. I’ve got two younger brothers. We’re not exactly close, but it’s all water under the bridge now.”
“Still . . .” Adam wanted to apologize again, but Kyle already had his back to him.
“Come on, Jelly Bean,” he called. “Let’s show Mr. Hathaway how we make dinner.” Caroline came running from wherever she had been, and both Fentons hurried toward the kitchen, leaving Adam to follow.