"Thanks for coming."
"I told you I'd be here whenever you needed me."
"And I need you. We need you."
Mark gave her another hug. "What did your mother say about my coming?"
Jett looked at the ground. "I didn't tell her."
Katy appeared in the open doorway, hand at her throat, clasping the front of her nightgown together. She was as beautiful as Mark remembered red hair shining in the sun like lustrous copper, freckles dappling her cheeks, her pert lips parted in an unspoken question.
"Hi, Katy," Mark said, feeling stupid. He waved.
She blinked twice and rolled her green eyes. "What in the world are you doing here?"
"I came to see my daughter."
"You can't just show up out of the blue. We have a custody agreement."
"I asked him to come, Mom," Jett said. 'To help us."
Katy looked at the two of them as if they were coconspirators in some bizarre practical joke. "We don't need any help."
"You don't think so, but you're spaced out, Mom."
"I'm perfectly fine," she said but looked at the barn as if she'd misplaced something and couldn't remember where she'd last seen it
"What kind of trouble are you in?" Mark asked Katy.
"I don't know. Something about the barn. And recipes."
"Can I come in?"
"I'll have to ask Gordon."
"Where is he?"
"Taking a shower."
"Okay, I'll just wait here with the world's bestest girl." He put his arm around Jett as Katy went back inside. "So what's all this about the barn?"
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain."
"Look, we've always been honest with each other, even when we mess up. If it wasn't for my drug use, you might not-"
"This isn't about drugs, Daddy. It's about the goddamned man in the black hat and the scarecrow boy and the goats that tried to eat me, and maybe about Mom losing her mind. She thinks the house is haunted."
Mark wiped his mustache, unable to comprehend what his daughter was saying. Had she dragged him up here for some dramatic story? He was glad to see her, but if she started lying to get attention, he predicted trouble ahead for both him and Katy. So far, Jett hadn't punished either of them for the divorce, but she no doubt harbored a seething anger.
He was about to question her when Gordon came onto the porch. Mark nodded in greeting, straightening his spine and lifting his head, because Gordon had at least three inches on him. Jett led Mark up the porch and made introductions. Mark gripped Gordon's hand, wondering whether to go for the macho thing and try to squeeze the hardest. Instead, they both pressed flesh as if afraid of catching germs.
"Come in," Gordon said, turning and going back inside. "Make yourself at home."
Jett gave him a sideways glance as if to say, "See what I have to live with?"
They sat in the study. Katy fidgeted, hustling around the room and arranging magazines, Gordon's collection of religious relics on the mantel, and the plastic cases of DVDs that were stacked in front of the television. Mark noticed folded blankets stacked beside the sofa and wondered who had been sleeping downstairs. He was alarmed to find pleasure at the thought of Katy's abandoning her marital bed. Whatever her sleeping habits, she certainly was a lot fussier about housekeeping than she'd been when they shared the same roof.
"Can I get you something to drink-" Mark could tell by her exhalation that she almost said "honey," one of those lingering endearments that were difficult to shake off despite a legal document terminating such pleasantries. Mark himself knew the price of a relaxed guard having lost a recent girlfriend by accidentally calling her "Katy" in a moment of passion. Gordon didn't seem to notice, but Jett sat forward on the sofa, attuned to the air of expectation that filled the room.
"I had coffee on the way up," Mark said, and that reminded him of the pressure in his bladder.
"So, to what do we owe this surprise visit?" Gordon asked.
"I'm sorry. I thought Jett had cleared it with you guys. I would never intrude otherwise."
"You didn't think to call me?" Katy asked standing by the cold fireplace holding a throw pillow against her stomach. He admired her long fingers, the nails painted cherry, the freckles scattered across the backs of her hands like star maps he'd once memorized.
"It's some personal stuff," Jett cut in. "I didn't want you to make excuses and keep him away."
"Jessica, we all appreciate your need for a broad support network," Gordon said. "But in my house, I need to know what's going on. We'll let it slip this one time, but from now on, everything gets cleared through me, okay?"
Gordon flashed Mark a wink that suggested "Oh, what we fathers have to go through, right?" A freshet of anger sluiced through Mark's veins. Pompous ass. Wearing a turtleneck sweater on a Sunday morning, looking like Captain Nemo with that same sanctimonious burden of saving the world from itself
"How about breakfast?" Katy said. "I was making some scratch biscuits."
Scratch biscuits. The old Katy couldn't even handle Bisquik, and microwaving yeast rolls had been about the peak of her culinary skills. Country life must have inspired her. Or beaten her down. He found himself scrutinizing her as he listened to Gordon. Had she lost weight? She'd done something different with her hair, the trendy, cheek-sweeping cuts she'd preferred giving way to a longer, more free-flowing style that feathered across her collarbones. Damn. She was still beautiful, but then, that had never been one of her shortcomings.
"Actually, I was hoping to take Jett out for breakfast, if that's okay. Where's the closest McDonald's?"
Gordon gave one of those bluff, hearty laughs that were simultaneously cheerful and irritating. "Try Titusville. That's our college town. Population fourteen thousand when the semester is in session. Three thousand during Christmas break. But it's a twenty-minute drive, probably longer on a Sunday when the little old ladies drive their Olds Cutlasses to church."
"Let me fix you something here," Katy said. "We have fresh eggs and bacon, and I have a new waffle iron, too."
Mark shot her a glance. Gordon didn't have enough parental experience to pick up on the subtleties, but Katy should know the point of the suggestion was for Mark and Jett to spend time alone.
"How about the general store?" Jett said. "We can get something from their deli. You and me, Dad, just like when you used to drop me off at school."
Mark searched Katy's face for any hint of a sting, but she seemed lost in menu planning. "That sounds great, pumpkin. A real-life general store, huh?"
"Yeah, it's like a hundred years old and it's full of weird old stuff you never need."
"Sounds great. Is it open this early?"
"Sure," Jett said. "The woman who owns it lives next door. Except it's more like she lives at the store and just sleeps at home."
"Sounds like the ticket to me." Mark stood, half expecting Katy to invite herself along. He wasn't sure whether he would mind or not. Making Turtleneck Boy jealous would almost be worth the trouble, but Mark didn't want to reopen old wounds. Or risk fanning old embers, either.
He was being a selfish ass, as usual. This was about Jett, not any of the three adults.
"Is that okay with you guys?" Mark asked.
Gordon and Katy looked at each other, Katy obviously awaiting her husband's response. Gordon nodded at her, then Katy nodded at Mark. Jett grabbed his arm and squeezed in joy.
"Do I need to have her back at any particular time?" Mark asked. "Like for church?"
"I attend services, but Katy and Jett don't," Gordon said. "My spiritual interest is purely academic, though."
I'll bet it is, Mr. Penny Loafers. If God walked in the front door, you 'd invite Him into the study for a sherry and a chat about ways to improve the cosmos.