It was closer to eight when the Merinos came through the front door in a cacophony of laughter and half-completed sentences. Dayton and Kenna sat as far away from each other as the confining love seat allowed. The arrangement was largely due to her fear that any kind of affection with him would further alter her already traitorous neural pathways. Carmen sprawled out on the larger sofa, a cable knit blanket draped over her legs.
Light and shadow danced against the walls as the fire crackled in the hearth. Carmen entertained them with tall tales from her job, most of which Dayton had already heard but he laughed on cue. The trio’s conversation halted as the owners of the residence emerged in the sitting room.
A strand of pearls wreathed his mother’s neck. She wore a pale pink blouse and khaki pants, and she carried a sack of takeout whose smell had already permeated the room. Overzealous quantities of garlic and butter. His father was similarly dressed and carried an identical sack.
“Eddy, did you remember we had a son?” his mother teased. Her forehead creased as a slow, subtle smile bloomed while regarding Kenna. “Oh, hello.” And then Dayton. “Who’s this, dear?”
His hand brushed her spine. She took the hint and rose with him, soon standing toe to toe with the people responsible for giving life to the man who had wreaked havoc on hers since they crossed paths.
“This is Kenna.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful young woman.” His mother employed a less crushing embrace than Carmen had. “Gwendolyn. Call me Gwen. I insist.”
His father tucked her in a one-armed side hug. “And I’m Edward, but I prefer Eddy. I hope we didn’t keep you all waiting too long.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Kenna said.
She detested how shy the situation had rendered her and she felt like any of the other girls. Under his thumb, helpless.
Dayton exchanged hugs with his parents. Eddy’s weathered hand cradled the back of his son’s head and he examined his face.
“What happened to you,mijo?”
It took her all of one second to realize the question was in reference to his scars.
“Nothing serious.”
Though she wasn’t sure how long he’d had the scars, the fragment of conversation implied he had not been home since the car accident. Even more curiously, Dayton seemed to not want his parents to know about the crash.
Kenna noticed Carmen avert her eyes as her brother brushed off the severity of what he’d endured, and she fiddled with a frayed end of the blanket. She must have known. They were twins; it was probably encoded in their DNA to relay everything that happened to one another.
She had never wanted to be alone so badly with someone whom she knew so little.
But Gwen’s smooth voice cut above the rest, killing her chance to pull Carmen aside and suss out whatever she obviously knew.
“Let’s eat. Shall we?”
20
THE MERINOS
It was both thrilling and terrifying to be huddled around the table with Dayton’s family, perfect strangers, praying over a meal.
Yet despite the air of unfamiliarity, the scene brought Kenna great comfort. It conjured memories of her own family murmuring grace before diving into whatever meal they’d managed to scrape together. Though not always desirable, they had always had food on their table, whatever game her father managed to trap. Her mother cleaned and prepared the meat.
Roasted grouse. Honey-glazed rabbit.
Everything tasted like chicken after a while.
The dining room was cozier than she’d expected. Their six-top table filled most of the space. An oxblood rug stretched beneath their feet. Taper candles burned to near nubs provided an intimate wash of light. Gwen and Carmen had transferred all of the dishes into serving bowls, which they presently passed around the table as everyone filled their plates.
“What time did you two get in?” Gwen asked.
“Around noon,” Dayton said, handing off a bowl of marsala to Kenna without sparing her a look.
A ‘v’ formed between her graying brows. “Ah. We were at the volunteer clinic.”
“You guys are still doing that?”