“What else do you know?” She leaned back on her hands, her legs straight in front of her.
“Lots of things. Pick a topic.” I didn’t care too much to play this game, but I could tell by the excitement across her lips that she was. And that was all that mattered.
She twisted her mouth to the side, raised her eyes to the ceiling, and hummed to herself in thought. “Volcanos.”
It only took a few seconds to search my memory bank for interesting facts regarding her chosen topic. And oddly enough, it actually excited me and made me eager to explain all about it. “Did you know that there’s a super-volcano beneath Yellowstone National Park?”
Her nose scrunched and brows pinched together. “A what?”
“Yeah, that term is reserved for the devastating, world-changing variety. The big daddies. The ones that cause twenty-five hundred times the amount of ash and rock expelled by Mount St. Helens in 1980. That kind of eruption would cause irreversible damage. I’m talking, like, a thick layer of ash blanketing most of the US. There’s even the potential for it to plunge the entire planet into what’s called a volcanic winter.”
The more I talked, the wider her eyes grew.
“Yellowstone has seen several eruptions. The last one was over six hundred and thirty thousand years ago, so some believe it’s overdue for another one. Although, scientists have been studying it for a very long time, and they all say another eruption is highly unlikely—at least in our lifetime.”
“Oh my God, Drew…I thought you were going to give me fun facts, not scare me half to death with thoughts of a fiery, molten-covered apocalypse.”
Even though she wasn’t technically laughing, her tone was filled with humor, sparking a wave of rolling mirth through my chest. “I happen to think those are fun facts.”
Kenny glared at me for a moment before rolling her eyes.
“I guess you don’t want to know that there are at least half a dozen other super-volcanos around the world? And that scientists believe super-eruptions happen every one hundred thousand years? It’s okay, though, because the last one was over twenty thousand years ago, so we should be good for a while.”
“That’s definitely a depressing fact—yet still interesting,” she admitted with a smirk.
I stood and stretched my arms above my head. “I have to use the restroom, and then I’m going to get something to drink. Would you like anything?”
“No, I’m okay for now. But while you’re doing that, can I look at the pictures of the fog wall?”
I picked up my phone off the couch cushion and dropped it in her hands as I walked past. “Passcode is all fours.”
She shouted thanks over her shoulder just as I stepped into the bathroom.
Most people probably wouldn’t trust someone else with unsupervised access to their phones, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide. The most fascinating thing she could find would likely be my search history, but even that wasn’t gossip material.
When I returned to the room with a can of soda in my hand, I noticed my cell was on the floor next to her, her attention glued to the flickering flames in front of her. The blanket no longer wrapped around her shoulders, though she still seemed to be using it on her legs.
“You’re right, those pictures turned out like crap.” She picked up my cell and tapped on the screen, her lips pulled to the side. “However, I did find one that piqued my interest.” That’s when she turned it around so I could see the photo in question. “Should I be concerned?”
I wanted to laugh, but I also wanted to run and hide. Staring back at me was Kenny’s face, mid-laugh, frozen in time on my screen. I’d completely forgotten that I had taken it when I gave her my phone to look through.
Based on her expression as she stared at me, I didn’t think I had anything to be embarrassed about. She might’ve been teasing me, but it was obviously in a friendly way. Unfortunately, I had trouble shaking the humiliation that burned my skin.
This must be how she felt every time I made her face flame red.
But if there was one thing I was good at, it was pushing through.
“It’s just a really good picture of you. Candid. I forgot I even did that.” I shrugged, acting as if it were no big deal. The more I acted that way, the more convincing it would be until she believed it wasn’t a big deal.
Kenny glanced at the photo again, eyes narrowed and brows knitted. “My mom says I’m the spitting image of my grandmother. She says there are certain things I do that remind her of her mom, and one of those things is my laugh. Apparently, I look and sound just like her when I genuinely think something is funny.”
“That must mean your grandmother was a very attractive person.”
At least now I wasn’t the only one with heated cheeks.
“I’ve always found it extremely frustrating that I’m pretty much a carbon copy of someone I’ll never get to meet. I can hear about her sometimes, but I can’t witness those little nuances for myself. It would be like finding out you have a twin somewhere in the world but not ever having the chance to meet him.”
“Yeah, I can understand that.” I took the phone from her outstretched hand and allowed her to continue her thought without interruption.
“It would be one thing if I had photos of her, or if I’d ever heard some of her life’s stories. Like how your grandmother told you about the lake and the people who lived in the town. I don’t have any of that.” Frustration mixed with resentment in her tone.
“Have you ever asked your mom about her?”
“I used to, but I eventually stopped because I never got real answers. Apparently, my grandmother was rather tight-lipped about her life. My mom said she felt like she didn’t really know her, so it was hard to talk about who she was as a person because even she didn’t know. I was her namesake, though. So there’s that.”
For some reason, that grabbed ahold of my attention and wouldn’t let go. There was a soft humming in my ears, almost like static but far away. “Her name was McKenna?”
“No. But her maiden name was McKinney.”
There was a familiarity to that, though I shook it off. I likely felt that way because I called her Kenny, which closely resembled her grandmother’s moniker.
My cell buzzed in my hand, my dad’s name popping up on the screen. “Well, it looks like we’re stuck here for a while. Dad said the storm won’t be letting up any time soon. At least I don’t have to worry about work. The Feeder’s staying closed until tomorrow,” I said as I read the message that came through.
“So does that mean I have to sleep here, too?”
Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have her here all night. “Doubtful. Worst case scenario, it’ll rain throughout the night, but that won’t stop me from taking you home. It’s the lightning that’s keeping us in for now, but it won’t last forever.”
“Then why aren’t they opening the restaurant?”
“Because of the rain, especially if it continues to come down this hard. There’s no way anyone will want to venture out in it, so there’s no point in opening. My dad might have a couple cooks available in case anyone at the resort wants food delivered to their cabins, but he won’t open for full service.”