“Yes.”
He smiled. “I’m glad you think of it the same way. I’ll probably be sorry when we reach the end of the diary.”
I didn
’t know what to say. Sorry when we reached the end of the diary? He looked like he really meant it. “I don’t know how I’ll feel then, Kane. What I do know is not to expect a happy ending.”
“Yes, but we’re there. We’re part of them in a way no one else is, right?”
“I suppose. Yes.”
“Maybe when we’re alone like this, we should call each other Christopher and Cathy.”
“What?”
“I’m just kidding,” he said quickly, then shifted into drive and turned into my driveway. My father’s truck was there. I could tell from where it was parked that he had used it and not my car to go to his dinner. “Sorry this wasn’t the greatest night,” Kane said.
“I enjoyed the dinner, Kane. I really did. I like your sister, and I liked Julio, too. I think you’re being a little too hard on him.”
“Yeah, maybe. We’ll do it again, but just ourselves one night. I like dressing up for you.”
He leaned forward to kiss me. It wasn’t a bad kiss; it was just different. I could feel him holding back, and I thought that maybe he didn’t want to get too passionate in my driveway. He opened his car door and hurried around to open mine.
“M’lady,” he said, holding out his arm. We walked up to the front door together. “Any way we can get together in the attic tomorrow?” he asked as soon as we got there.
“I don’t think so. I have to do some housework in the morning and then go with my father and get all our shopping done for Thanksgiving dinner and our regular week’s food. We’ll probably do some pre-Christmas shopping, too. Dad likes me to help him pick out gifts for Todd’s children and his wife and something for my aunt Barbara. We’ll have lunch out, and he’ll want to make us dinner. He hasn’t for a while. I need to spend some quality time with him.”
I could feel his disappointment. Then he burst into more of a Kane Hill smile. “Well, only two and a half days left of school before the Thanksgiving break. I bet we finish the diary by a week from tomorrow, anyway.”
“Maybe,” I said.
He kissed me again, softer but quicker, and then headed to his car. Before he got in, he paused and looked up at the attic. He didn’t look back at me. He got in and backed out. Suddenly, I felt very cold and hurried into the house.
I was surprised my father wasn’t waiting up for me. The television wasn’t on, and there was only a small lamp lit in the living room and a nightlight on in the kitchen. I turned off everything I had to and started up the stairs. He came out of his room in his robe just as I turned toward my room.
“Hey. I was just going down to wait for you,” he said.
“Oh. I turned everything off.”
“That’s all right. You won’t have to wake me up to go to sleep. How was your dinner?”
“Very impressive. I had something called coq au vin.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t had that for years. It’s going to get so I’ll have to study up on some recipes to impress you.”
“I doubt it. How was your dinner?”
“The steak was a little overcooked.”
“I didn’t mean the food. Was it a business dinner or what?”
“Business dinner,” he said. “As it turns out, the decorator is married.” He shrugged. “Which was fine with me. I guess I’m just a little . . .”
“Paranoid,” I filled in, and he smiled. “Anyway, Mrs. Osterhouse will be happy to hear it,” I added, and he shook his head.
“Good night, Kristin,” he sang, and headed back to his bedroom.
“Bonne nuit,” I said, mimicking the maître d’ at La Reserve.