A Million Miles Away(56)

Kelsey hadn’t witnessed such a scene in a long time.

Her father had been warming up leftovers from the restaurant in the microwave late at night, and she and her mother were left to their own devices, mostly delivery pizza and macaroni and cheese, in Kelsey’s case.

“Is this for the group therapy people?” Kelsey yelled over the music.

“Kelsey!” Her mother jumped at the sound of her voice, too concentrated on the cabbage to notice her come in. “What did you say?”

“I said—” Kelsey began.

“Rob, turn that shit down, will you?” her mother called, and slapped her father on the butt.

Her dad turned around, saw Kelsey, and his bushy eyebrows lifted, his spatula in the air. “Hi, sweetie!”

“What’s all this?” Kelsey asked, the folk music at a reasonable volume.

“We’re having dinner together,” her father said.

“Really?”

“Sit down,” her mother said, her glasses tucked in her wild gray hair.

“Stay awhile,” her father said, and slid a burger patty onto a large plate, flipping the others.

Kelsey sat, forgetting in her sleeplessness to take off her backpack. Her mother removed it. Kelsey almost recoiled at her mother’s touch, but didn’t. She and her mother smiled at each other cautiously.

“We need to talk to you about something,” her mother said.

Kelsey couldn’t imagine what it might be, but those words were rarely a good sign.

“We received something in the mail today,” her mother said, standing up and going to her desk.

Alarms flashed behind Kelsey’s eyes. She gripped the table. She had checked the mailbox on the way in; sure enough, it had been empty. Did they find the letter to Peter? Did they know?

“Surprise,” her mother said from behind her, and dropped an envelope next to her plate, sitting back down beside her.

It was stamped with the University of Kansas seal, and it was thick.

“You’re in!”

In the strange whirlwind of the past few months, Kelsey had barely remembered to apply. But she did, at the last minute, and from then on assumed she’d get in, because Ingrid had gotten in a few days ago, and Ingrid was, well, Ingrid.

“Wow” was all Kelsey could say, scanning the official letter.

“Congratulations, darling,” her mother said.

When they were all sitting, eating barbecue burgers and slaw, Kelsey couldn’t help but take a moment to stare. Her parents had not been her favorite people, even before Michelle died, but now, the two of them sitting across from her, passing the wine bottle from one to the other, put a sweet haze on her sleepy vision.

Her father shook his head, smiling to himself. “I remember your first day of school.”

“Ha!” replied her mother. “What an ordeal.”

“One wanted morning kindergarten, one wanted afternoon.”

Kelsey laughed with her parents. “Then, like, two days in, we wanted to switch to each other’s class. I remember.”

“Fickle, you two. A couple of Geminis.” Their birthday was June twelfth, just one month after graduation.

When the plates were clean, as they always were when her father cooked, her mother looked at her father, then folded her hands under her chin. “We’re so proud of you.”

“But that’s not all—” her dad said, pointing at her mother, taking a sip of wine.

“Rob! Dammit. I wanted to wait until after dessert.”

“Oh,” he said, shrugging. “Oops.”

“I had these made,” her mother said, suddenly very formal. “I hope you like them.”

Her mom took out a box, and inside, Kelsey found a stack of invitations.

Please help us celebrate the graduation of Ms. Kelsey Maxfield, they read in shiny gold lettering, the same that graced her stationery. Then the time and the place: their backyard, an afternoon in May, hours after she would be done with high school forever. The invitation was outlined in crimson and blue, KU colors.

Kelsey put a hand to her mouth, and embraced her mother with the other.

“Invite as many people as you want,” her mother said.

From across the table, her father said, “I’ll cook whatever you want, too. Doesn’t have to be burgers.”

Her mother added, “We could even have La Parrilla cater.”

As they continued chatting about the plans, Kelsey knew they were all trying to look forward to the celebration, just as much as they didn’t want to look behind it. Michelle’s absence hung in the small things, like the fact that her sister had expressly said she didn’t want a large, fancy party, or that when Kelsey had suggested a taco bar from La Parrilla last September, Michelle had turned up her nose.

Now Kelsey had no one standing in her way. She could make her graduation exactly how she wanted it to be. Kelsey would have to ignore what lay underneath the decorations and happy crowd and Mexican food: that without Michelle, it could never be exactly what she wanted, anyway.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


Meg was waiting for Kelsey in a high ponytail, a beater, and baggy basketball shorts, watching from the Farrows’ front yard as the Subaru pulled up to the ranch house in El Dorado. Kelsey got out of the car, looking around to the surrounding houses, pretending not to recognize her. She was making good on her promise to help Peter’s kid sister with her dance moves, but this time she was Kelsey, the less artistic, less academic party girl who didn’t share anything with Michelle but their DNA. Basically, herself eight months ago. She could do this.