“She has a Triumph?” His blue eyes twinkled.
Kat laughed. “And an antique Aston. Come on, Steve,” she teased. “She makes a killer hot chocolate.”
Seated around Nana Boo’s huge wooden table, Kat allowed the warmth of her grandmother’s house, love, and acceptance seep into her, filling up the gaps of shame and uncertainty that had opened over the past few months. Carter, with his free hand always touching her, sat and listened while, before, during, and after their dinner of enchiladas and Oreo cheesecake, Nana Boo told him story after story of Kat and her childhood escapades. Stories detailing Kat falling off horses, climbing trees, and smashing baseballs through windows kept Carter enraptured.
Seeing him so relaxed, hearing him laugh, and having him slowly realize there was nothing to be afraid of was more than Kat could have dreamed. All she wanted from their weekend with Nana Boo was for him to see he fit into her life. She wanted him to see there were people who didn’t care about his past and the mistakes he’d made. It was important for Carter to understand not everybody would hold them against him. They didn’t define him.
She listened when Nana Boo asked him questions about his hobbies, smiling when Carter became shy and modest about his musicality and his love of all things fast and metal. He explained about Kala, and his desire to buy another motorcycle, which led to Nana Boo telling stories about Kat and her father riding up and down the beach for hours, simply to have the sound of the engine in their ears and the wind on their faces.
“She’s not changed,” Carter mused, smiling at Kat, making her cheeks flush.
Nana Boo was amazing, laughing and joking and never asking questions that made Carter uncomfortable. She listened with absolute attentiveness. Gradually, Carter’s shoulders lost their hard edge and his smile began to appear a little more easily. Even his grip on Kat’s hand loosened.
Although he had yet to resolve one particular issue, and she knew it was driving him beyond distraction.
Kat smiled knowingly when she saw him squirm for the thousandth time. “You can have a cigarette, you know.”
Carter glanced apologetically at Nana Boo. “I’m fine.”
“Trevor smokes out on the back porch, dear,” Nana Boo said dismissively while placing a bowl of Doritos and a sour cream dip onto the table. “Please feel free. You’re on your vacation.”
Carter eyes searched Kat’s for permission. “It’s fine,” she assured him, finding his timidity endearing as hell.
“Okay,” he conceded. He tapped his long fingers against the edge of the table, hesitating. “I need to call Max, too. I’ll—I won’t be long.”
He stood up from his seat and strode toward the back door. Reggie, with claws scratching eagerly across the wooden floor, got up from his place under Nana Boo’s seat and followed him. Carter looked at the dog by his side, cocking an eyebrow in question. Reggie sat down and thumped his tail excitedly.
“He’ll follow you,” Nana Boo explained. “He likes you.”
“Okay,” Carter mumbled, keeping his suspicious eyes on the dog before he opened the door and they both stepped out into the cold Chicago night. Kat stared at the door once it closed.
“He’s wonderful.” Nana Boo sipped her red wine. “He adores you, darling.”
“I adore him,” Kat confessed. She allowed her finger to trace the stem of her wineglass. “He was so nervous, Nana. He wanted to make a good impression so badly. I just wish he knew he didn’t have to worry. He doesn’t see himself clearly at all.”
“He will in time, Kat. If he hears it enough, he’ll see it.” Nana Boo smiled to herself. “He reminds me so much of …” She shook her head.
Kat rested her chin in her palm. “Who?”
“Your father,” Nana Boo replied. “He’s just like Danny was when your mother first brought him into the house, all jittery and aching for a cigarette.”
“Dad smoked?” Kat coughed into her wineglass.
“He quit when your mother became pregnant with you.”
Kat looked at the table, smiling. “I never knew that.”
“There’s a lot I could tell you about your father.”
“Please,” Kat encouraged.
“Your grandfather never approved of your mother’s choice of husband.” Nana Boo smiled reminiscently. “No one was ever good enough for his Eva.”
Kat exhaled a gust of sardonic breath. “Yeah, it must be a family thing.”
This made Nana Boo chuckle. “Yes, your mother is very much like her father.”
Kat thought for a moment, considering all the ways in which her mother had made her feel so entirely disgraceful for choosing Carter, for choosing Arthur Kill.
“She’s protective because she loves you, Angel,” Nana Boo murmured, seemingly reading Kat’s thoughts. “She’s terrified of losing you.”
“She already has.”