Page 81 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Yes. Absolutely. I swear they’re all legit. And I’ll email over links to the research I cited as well as the transcript of the interview I had with the professor at Western Carolina University.”
Thatphone call was a shot in the dark, but it turned out to be hugely beneficial to get the perspective of someone who has made a career out of researching effective teaching methods.
“I owe you one, Kate,” James says.
“Let’s call it even. You have no idea what it means that you’re getting this published so fast.”
“Hmm,” he says. “This kayaker in North Carolina. He mean something to you?”
“Off the record?”
“It isn’t going to change my mind if that’s what you’re asking. Desperate times, and all that.”
“He’s a close friend,” I say. “I don’t want to see his program shut down, so I’m trying to get him a little bit of positive press.”
“This should do it,” James says. “It’s good writing. Send me the address of wherever you’ll be tomorrow, and I’ll overnight the proofs.”
We end the call just as I reach the front door of the boutique hotelExpeditionbooked for me. For a moment, I consider calling Brody to tell him about the article, but I’ll be back in Silver Creek tomorrow night, and by then I’ll have the proofs. Not that he’ll want to see me. He never did respond to my text. But why would he? I don’t deserve a reply.
My dad meets me in a corner bistro right down the street from my hotel. He stands when I approach and pulls me into a big hug. “How are you, Katie? You look good. Really good.”
With Dad’s arms around me, the tightness in my chest loosens. It’s good that I’m here. No one understands my lifestyle better than Dad, because it’s always been his too.
We settle into a corner booth where he gives me an update on where he’s been and what he’s up to. “I’m over the entire European division now,” he says. “It’s a big deal.”
“Still a lot of traveling?”
His shoulders lift and he grins, but there’s an emptiness in his expression I’ve never noticed before. “You know me. Always going somewhere.”
There are deep hollows under Dad’s eyes. His hair is thinning, his skin a little looser than it was the last time I saw him. For the first time, he looksolder.“Dad, are you seeing anyone?”
His eyebrows lift. “What, like dating?”
“Yeah. Or just, I don’t know. Do you have friends?”
The question came out of the blue. But it’s suddenly very important that I know.
Dad waves his hand dismissively. “Ah, Katie. You know I don’t have time for stuff like that.”
I have always felt a certain camaraderie with my dad. We’re the world travelers. The ones Mom never understood. I’m not like her. I’m not small towns and boring routines. I’m like Dad. An adventurer. A free spirit.
And alone.
Tears prick my eyes, and Dad’s face falls. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”
I shake my head quickly and use my napkin to dry my eyes.
“Is this about the job? How did your meeting go with them yesterday?”
“It’s not that. The meeting was great. They like me, they like my work. And I like all of them, too. If I want the job, they would love for me to start as soon as possible.”
“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”
“IfI want the job.”
He takes a slow, deep breath. “And you maybe don’t?”
I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
