Izzy sets the plates on the table, and we all eat. Conversation turns to work, as it usually does, but when I catch the way Kira is trying to follow along, but not able to, I change the subject.
“Do you guys know Kira has never played in the snow?”
“No fucking way?” Sam says. “When I was at the pumps getting fucked earlier, Frank told me a storm was coming soon.”
“His knees bothering him again?” Jason asks and we all chuckle.
“Seriously, you’ve never been tobogganing?” Cody asks, his brow furrowed like he can’t wrap his mind around that.
Kira finishes chewing, takes a sip of her beer, and says, “Never. I mean I’ve seen lots of snow in other places, but I grew up in Victoria, and we only ever got a dusting that doesn’t last long. I’ve never made a snowball, or a snowman.”
“It’s on,” Sam says as I take a mouthful of beer.
“And by the way, a winter coat miraculously appeared in the closet. I plan to pay back the person responsible,” she says her gaze going straight to me. I look away and whistle innocently. “There is a third jar on the Credenza, it’s not needed.”
Sam, Jason, Cody, and Izzy exchange a look, and while I’m not sure what they’re scheming, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the house.
“It’s not for the coat,” Jason says quietly, and pops a meatball into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything more.
“You know I nearly lost my left nut on a sled when I was a kid,” Sam says, redirecting the conversation.
I choke on the beer and it stings my nostrils. “Fuck, Sam,” I say, my damn eyes watering. “Couldn’t you have at least waited until I swallowed.”
“That’s what she said,” he exclaims loudly and groans sound from around the table as he laughs hysterically at his own joke. “Seriously, though, I was on one of those thin crazy carpets. You guys remember them, right?” We all nod, and he quickly slides one palm over the other, mimicking the way he must have been flying down the hill. “Wrapped my legs around a tree.” He pops a meatball into his mouth, and around it says, “Was in the hospital for a week.”
“Did the same thing,” Izzy says. “Damn near lost my virginity.”
Everyone laughs, and I slide a gaze Kira’s way as her words ping around inside my brain. She said she was inexperienced. I don’t know any women her age who haven’t had sex, but then again, I’ve never really met anyone like her before. Is it possible that she’s a virgin? I think she very well could be, and hell, I’m not going anywhere near that. I’m not the kind of guy she should give it up to.
We talk about winter activities, and the crew take turns telling her about the Pumpkin People festival, where pumpkins are painted to look like famous people, placed on top of stuffed clothing and scenes from movies are recreated. They do everything from Star Wars, E.T., to The Goonies, and it draws a huge crowd. Kira seems quite fascinated by the eccentric small-town culture.
We finished eating, and we start to clear the table when a soft knock sounds on the back door. Since we’re all accounted for, I have no idea who it might be. Sam pulls the door open, and on the other side, there is a young girl, maybe around the age of fourteen, standing there holding a basket filled with muffins. The smell fills the room.
“Is Kira here?” she asks, and all eyes turn to her.
“I’m Kira,” she says.
“I’m Amber McMurtry. We live down the road, and my mom made these for you.”
“Come in, come in,” Kira says as plates clank on the counter. She ushers the girl in and accepts the basket. “How very thoughtful.”
“Mom wanted to come and say hello, but she’s fighting a head cold and didn’t want to share the germs. When she’s better she wants to invite you over.”
“That sounds lovely, and it’s very nice to meet you, Amber. These look delicious.”
She beams up at Kira. “I helped make them.”
“Then we should all have one.” Kira holds the basket out, and we all take turns reaching for a big blueberry muffin. Amber has one, too. “Mmm, these are delicious. I’ll have to get the recipe.”
Amber laughs. “It’s Gram’s recipe.”
“Then I must have it around here somewhere.”
“You do.” She steps up to one of the cupboards, opens it, and pulls out a binder. “All her recipes are in here.”
“That’s where I got the one for the cinnamon rolls,” Izzy pipes in.
Kira smiles at Amber. “I take it you and Gram were close.”
“We were,” the girl says. “We used to bake and paint together.”
Warmth moves into Kira’s eyes, but behind it, I spot something else. Something resembling guilt and pain. She clearly misses Gram deeply. But why the guilt?
“The painting that’s hanging in the living room of the studio with the ocean in back is my favorite.”
“Come with me.” Kira reaches for the girl’s hand, and as everyone tends to the muffins and dishes, they step into the other room. I hover at the doorway and watch the exchange between the two. Kira’s own parents might not have been natural nurturers, but I’m guessing she got those traits from Gram. “You mean this one?” Kira asks.
“Yes. I’ve always loved it.”
“I bet Gram would want you to have it,” she says, taking it from the wall. The paint behind it is still a vibrant shade of yellow, displaying how much the walls have faded over time.
“No, I can’t take that,” she says and waves her hands.
“Gram would want you to. I’m sure of it.” I push off the doorframe. Yeah, Kira is definitely too sweet for a guy like me.
“Thank…thank you so much,” Amber says, her voice breaking up a bit.
“Let me cover it, so it doesn’t get damaged from the snow, and then I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s not far. I can walk.”
“Not with this you can’t.”
They come back to the kitchen, and Kira digs a big black garbage bag out from under the counter. Amber helps her slide the painting in, and Kira says, “I’ll be back shortly.” She pulls a set of keys from her pocket, shrugs into her coat, and disappears out the door with the young girl in tow.
“How’s the house coming?” Izzy asks.
“I’m about to head on over there to check it out,” I say, though I wasn’t until she asked. A breath of fresh air will do me good. I reach for the tea towel, and Izzy ushers me away. “Go. You cooked. We got this.”