Page 99 of Full Tilt
“Hey, Mom,” Jonah said.
She hugged him tight and held his face for a moment, her eyes taking him in. “You look wonderful,” she said. She turned to me. “Doesn’t he look wonderful? And you must be Kacey.”
She stepped down to embrace me. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
Her embrace smelled like warm bread, and it soothed my nerves. “I’m happy to meet you too, Mrs. Fletcher,” I said, inexplicable tears filling my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time my own mother had hugged me.
“Please, please, call me Beverly.” She started back to the house, waving us in after. “Theo’s already here, and the lasagna is just about done. Do you like lasagna, Kacey?”
“I love it,” I said, slipping my hand into Jonah’s.
“Did I forget to mention she’s a hugger?” he whispered to me.
I nodded. “I loveher.”
Beverly led us through the living room. It was simply furnished, a little cluttered, with Jonah’s beautiful glass pieces displayed on side tables, bookshelves and windowsills. A gallery of photos on one wall showed Theo’s artwork—he’d been a talent since he was a toddler—and Theo and Jonah at every stage of life: Little League, school portraits, prom pictures. Mugging side-by-side from preschool to adolescence, one smiling bright, the other making a face or scowling.
“You’ve been adorable your whole life,” I said, pausing to examine a middle school photo, Jonah’s teeth obscured by braces.
“Let’s move along, nothing to see here,” he said, gentlydragging me to the kitchen.
Theo sat at the island, its counter brown speckled granite that matched the backsplash. The cabinets were a warm, scuffed white. Like the living room, the kitchen was simple and cluttered. The heart of the house, filled with warm, comforting smells and good food. The last of my nervousness fell away, and I went to wrap my arms around Theo from behind and kiss his cheek.
“Good to see you, Teddy.” He smelled good—a clean, sharp cologne over the softer smell of his soap.
He tolerated my hug and kiss and hunched further over his beer bottle.
Beverly shut the oven door and shot me a knowing smile. “Theodore is named after my husband’s great grandfather, who went by Teddy. But Theo refuses to answer to it. Right, honey?”
Theo’s jaw clenched. “Not that anyone fucking listens.”
“Language,” said a voice at the kitchen door. Mr. Fletcher joined us at the island. He was a tall, slender man, with dark hair graying on the sides. He stuck his hand out to me as if I were a potential business partner. “Henry Fletcher,” he said, giving a firm shake. “A pleasure, young lady.”
Jonah shot me an amused look, but I nodded politely. “Thank you, sir. It’s nice to meet you.”
“No sirs here. You can call me Henry or Henry.” He winked. “Whichever you prefer.”
“Something to drink, dear?” Beverly asked, opening the fridge. “I have beer, soda, wine. I picked up O’Douls for you, Jonah.”
“I’ll have one of those, too,” I said.
Beverly handed the green bottles to us. “The night is so lovely, I thought we’d eat in the back yard. Do you mind, Kacey? We can stay indoors if you prefer.” A nervous lilt wove through her words. And her hands never stopped moving. Fussing, arranging, doing.
“Outdoors is perfect,” I said.
“Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll turn on the lanterns Jonah madehis first year at Carnegie. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful in your life.”
“They really are something,” Henry said.
“I believe it,” I said. “Jonah’s work is astonishing.”
Jonah waved his hand. “Enough.”
“Astonishing, yes,” Beverly said, her eyes resting on her son.
“And an ample payoff of the tuition investment,” Henry added.
“Dad,” Jonah said quietly.
