Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher

“Perfect.” He grinned and I felt a flutter. Damn dimples. “It’s just dinner. We’ll talk. We’ll eat. I promise not to propose. It’ll be good. What do you say I pick you up at seven?” He stretched his arm through the window, hitting the button to lower the rear-door window. He moved back to Chaucer to give him a full-body rub through the window. “Later, little bear cub. Feel free to come visit me anytime.” He stepped back to the front window and leaned down. “So, make any decisions yet?”

* * *

WHEN CHAUCER AND I returned home, I curled up on the one chair left in the living room and tried to erase the day’s events by slipping into a coma. It worked for about two hours, until the house phone woke me up. I went to the kitchen and warily picked up the receiver. Don’t be Justin.

“Kate? Are you there?”

Damn! I’d forgotten. “Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m here.” I hopped up on the counter, feet dangling and banging against the cupboards.

“My goodness, I’ve been worried sick. You said you’d call when you arrived. I haven’t been able to get a hold of you for days. Your cell is disconnected. What’s been going on?”

“Sorry. The drive was really long and exhausting. I finally arrived before dawn two days ago.”

“Oh, well, good.” The worry faded from her voice. Mom couldn’t hold on to strong emotions anymore. They ran like water through her fingers.

“I didn’t realize Justin had disconnected my phone until this morning.” Shoot. “I’d better call Christine, too. She was checking in daily. I assumed I hadn’t heard from her because she was busy.” Could I still get to my contact info? I didn’t know anyone’s phone number by heart.

“Well, that’s done. You’re there. That’s all that matters. So, is her house just as you remembered? It’s strange, isn’t it, how much our perceptions can alter our memories? The house probably seems much smaller than you thought it was as a child. Since you were smaller, the house seemed bigger...”

Honestly, I zoned out a little. I’d already heard Mom’s theories on perception versus reality many times. I knew she was trying to cope with her worry by burying it under cold, theoretical questions.

Still, I only had four dollars to my name. I needed help. “Mom,” I interrupted. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Oh, of course, dear. I’m sorry. I lost track.”

“No, it’s fine.” I felt like I was standing in that checkout line all over again, everyone watching while I counted out pennies. Gah! I did not want to do this! “Mom, I need some help. Justin closed down my credit and debit cards. Would you be able to loan me some money—just until I get a job and can pay you back?”

“Oh, honey. I can’t believe he did that! Did you call your lawyer? He doesn’t have the right to do that!” She sighed, anger fading. “I could send my graduate students over to beat him for you. Shall I do that, dear? One of them is quite large.”

I gave a wheezy laugh. “Thanks, Mom, but I don’t think we need more people arrested.”

“Some of these boys are very big and strong. They could follow him, wait until he’s alone and then jump him. Who would ever suspect a couple of archeology grad students? It’s a perfect crime!”

I laughed. It felt good. “That’d be a pretty quick line to draw, Mom. Grad student to adviser to me.”

“Oh, you.” She chuckled. “I thought it was a good plan.” Sighing, she said, “Of course I’ll send you money. Is a check okay? Or should I wire the money to you directly?”

Hmm, good question. “How about a check, Mom? I’ll need to go into town and open a checking account, anyway.”

“Okay, dear. I’m writing it as we speak. I’ll have one of my students run over to the post office for me. I have a class starting in a few minutes.” She paused. “I love you, sweetie. Hang tough. You’ll make it through this. You’re made of much stronger stuff than me. You’ll be just fine. I promise.”

My throat constricted at her absolute faith in me. I wasn’t sure I shared her confidence, but it helped me sit a little straighter. I didn’t even realize how crushing the pressure was until it had eased some. “Thanks, Mom. I love you, too.”

I hung up and looked down at Chaucer, who was lying on the floor in front of me. “Okay, buddy. It’s time to hunt us some critters!” I hopped down, and pulled the traps and peanut butter out of a bag on the counter. “Everybody likes peanut butter, right?”

It’d be my luck to end up with a house full of pests who suffered from nut allergies.

CHAPTER NINE (#ua0119f64-7923-58ff-b597-fc99d06549e9)

Aiden

FUCKING BEAR. I turned away from the diner window. I was not going to watch him flirt with Katie. Especially since I’d already witnessed him getting her to laugh.

The door opened behind me. “What the hell was that? You are the world’s shittiest wingman! I have a gorgeous redhead—and you know how I feel about redheads—standing here, with the greatest dog I’ve ever met, and you can’t be bothered to tell her I’m not an ax murderer? What good is having a cop friend if he can’t reassure beautiful women to take a chance on me?” He paused and studied me for a second, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve been playing poker with you for ten years. I know that face. Are you interested in her?”

I wanted to punch that grin off his face. “Don’t be stupid. Of course not.”

Bear dropped his hands from his waist, staring at me in disbelief. “You can look at that woman, who by the way is very funny, and say of course you’re not interested? Trust me, if there’s anyone being stupid around here, it ain’t me.” He headed back to the kitchen and then stopped. “Seriously, Aiden. Do you want me to back off? It’s been a year and you haven’t dated.”

“I date.”

“If we’re using the word date the way prostitutes do, then sure.”

I considered how hard I’d need to punch him to dump him on his ass. “I’m not interested in Katie Gallagher.”

Bear just stared and then broke out the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen. “Good.” He turned and went back to work.

I left Bear and walked toward the station, trying hard not to think about Katie and failing miserably. I’d been in love with her since that first summer she’d visited her grandmother. She’d been six years old, and she’d shone like she’d swallowed the sun. Her hair had been a curly fire floating around her head, and her light green eyes had glowed as though lit from within. Freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. I saw her across the church, sitting with her grandmother, and—even at five—I was a goner.

I’d scooted to the end of the pew and started to make my way to her when I felt my dad’s massive mitt grab the back of my T-shirt, dragging me back to my place. She and her grandmother were sitting in a shaft of mottled light from the stained glass above them. I spent the rest of Mass staring at her.

After the service, my parents had stopped to talk with Nellie so I studied Katie up close. She looked exactly like a fairy should. She wore a white sundress, butterflies fluttering all over it with a matching butterfly headband, pulling her corkscrew curls back from her face. I remember trying to peek behind her, looking for her wings.

In the summers that had followed, my obsession with Katie Gallagher grew. She was the one against whom all others were measured and found wanting. The summer she turned fifteen everything changed. I’d finally built up the courage to ask her out, and before the words could leave my mouth, she walked off, laughing about my being a little kid. It crushed me. And then she left, never spent another summer with us. The last thing she ever said was “Him? Come on. He’s a little kid.” It took me a couple of years before I gathered the courage to ask another girl out. Then years later, Alice came along and finally cured me of romantic love.

These days I dated. I had fun. But I didn’t involve my heart or my trust anymore.

I’d just sat down at my desk when Heather’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Chief, you have a call on line two.”

“Chief Cavanaugh.”

“Hello, this is Justin Cady. I’m told you interviewed my wife, Katherine Cady.”

“Yes.”

Silence filled the line. He waited for me to elaborate. As I wasn’t going to do that, I let the silence stretch.

He cleared his throat. “Can you give me the phone number of our house up there? I can’t find it in any of the paperwork.”

I knew Nellie’s number by heart. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give out that kind of information over the phone. Why don’t you contact your wife?”

He grunted. “Have you seen what she did to my car? I’m trying to avoid the psycho.”

“Then why would you—”

“It’s for my lawyer. He needs to get an appraiser out there.”

“Appraiser?” This was not good. It would really hurt Pops to have Nellie’s house sold.