I was thoroughly annoyed when I arrived home almost two hours later. The high volume of traffic around the beach and the boardwalk prevented me from getting to Rizzo’s Pizza as quickly as I intended. Then, when I arrived, they had no record of our order, even after Mom had called it in. I had to place another order and wait, giving me time to think about the day. While I had Ryan as a temporary distraction at work, my mind wandered back to the conversation with Kat.
It was a good sign that she didn’t tell her mom about not being my friend anymore, but her intention to do so after some time had put a damper on my plan to rekindle our friendship, though I briefly wondered if it was worth it. Was I willing to fall back into the same trap as I had with Joe when Kat clearly didn’t want me around her? If she opened her arms to me tomorrow, would I be able to forgive all the things she said to me recently? Joe’s death had been a tragedy, but also offered an opportunity to show the true side of Kat. Was she right about my being pathetic?
My annoyance had turned to despondency in the time it took them to make the pizza.
When I arrived home, I walked around the house to the patio. Mom liked to relax outside after her shift since she claimed she never had a chance to enjoy the summer when she worked. Neither Mom nor Dad was there. I plopped the pizza box on the glass table and headed inside.
My parents’ voices carried down the hallway and spilled into the kitchen. Normally, I wouldn’t care to interrupt them. Especially since I was starving at that point, but when I heard my name I hesitated. Their conversation continued on but I couldn’t make out any distinct words.
I sneaked further down the hall. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar.
“I can’t believe Ben’s gone,” Dad said.
Who was Ben? I’d never heard my parents mention that name, ever.
“Well, he was a big guy. Heart attacks are common with obesity,” Mom said. It wasn’t a conversation with Mom unless there was a health statistic.
“After all he did for us,” Dad said softly.
Someone was shuffling papers around. If the conversation had any meaning, it had passed before I got there.
I took a few steps back and then called for them. “Mom? Dad?”
Dad’s head poked out from the bedroom. “Hey, Carebear. What took you so long?”
“I texted you. They didn’t get our order.”
“Are you serious?” Mom asked from inside the bedroom.
I stepped forward and Dad blocked my way. “I had to wait for them to make another pizza. What’re you guys doing in there?”
“Oh, nothing,” Mom said, brushing by Dad. She ruffled my hair. I noticed a small stack of papers in her hands.
“What’s that?”
Mom kept walking and I followed her into the living room.
“Mom?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” she said, shoving the papers inside her purse. She had to roll them so they’d fit.
“What is that?”
“Something for work.”
I whirled around to see Dad giving a strange look.
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
“Deb,” Dad said. “We should tell her.”
Mom contemplated his request, but said nothing.
“Tell me what?” I asked.
Dad cleared his throat. “Detective Devereux needed some more information from us.”
“What information?”
“Cellphone records,” Mom chimed in.
“My cellphone records?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Why?”
She took a breath. “He said he was creating a timeline for Joe and this would help.”
“So you’re going to let him dig into our private records?”
“Cara,” Mom said with an edge to her voice, “he’s not bothering anyone. He’s only doing his job. I’m sure he’s being thorough with Kat’s family as well. And we should cooperate, too.”
I wondered if that was what the conversation between Mrs. Blair and Kat had been about. Was Detective Devereaux still pressing on with an investigation even though it was an accident? This was Chester Bay, not some big city where the crime rate was high. Joe had overdosed. That was that.
It was a rare occasion when I had dinner alone with my parents. I cursed Madison for eating dinner elsewhere tonight, which put me at the center of their focus. I needed to change that.
“Who’s Ben?” I asked, sitting down.
“What’s that?” Dad asked.
I sat in my chair. “When I came in, I heard you mention someone had died.”
“Oh, yes.” Dad picked up a slice pizza from his plate. “An old friend of ours.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I pinched the slice of pizza from the box, the hot crust seared my fingers as I pulled it apart from the two next to it. I practically threw it on my plate and pressed my fingers together, willing the feeling to come back.
“Have I ever met him?” I asked.
“No,” Mom said abruptly, then quickly switched the conversation to work.
“We did hire a nice fella today,” Dad said, then turned to me. “How did Ryan do?”
“All I did was show him around,” I said. “Nothing much to report on.”
“He also fixed one of the faulty lights in a guest room,” he said to Mom. “He’s a regular Bob Vila.” Then he asked me, “How did you two get on?”
“Good.” I hesitated, wondering if there was any other segue into telling them that they knew him as well. The lull in conversation opened the door. “Do you remember that kid I hung around with the summer I was ten?”
Mom scrunched up her face. “Briefly. I think we had dinner with his family?”
“Yes, that’s him,” I said.
“What made you think of that?” Dad said.
Did I need to make a flashing billboard? “Ryan is that kid.”
“Huh.” Dad took another bite of his pizza and chewed thoughtfully. “What a strange coincidence.”
“I’m sure you had a lot of catching up to do,” Mom said, sipping from her wineglass.
“We didn’t know each other that well, Mom.”
She put her glass down and waved me off. “I remember you two were inseparable. You moped around the house for a week when he left.”
My cheeks heated up. “I did not.”
“Yes, I remember that!” Dad said, wagging a finger at Mom. “It’s all coming back to me. You begged me to contact the owner at the Bay Inn to get his home number.”
“I did not.”
“Oh, come on, sweetheart. We’re only teasing.”
“Be sure to bring that up with Ryan tomorrow at work, Dad. I’m sure it won’t be as awkward as it is now.”
Dad winked at me. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Carebear.”
I knew he meant well but Dad wasn’t the best at secrets. I’m sure he’d ask Ryan about the connection but I’d have to keep an ear out during their conversation so he didn’t mention my apparent crush on the kid. We were ten! I shouldn’t be expected to be held to that view of him after all these years.
“Can we please change the subject?” I begged.