Page 9 of Retrofit Analysis

She shakes her head and wipes her eyes with the heel of one hand. “Thank you, Kellen.” She sighs. “I wasn’t sure how we were getting through this one. Thank you for finding a solution for us.”

“Any time,” I tell her, resisting the urge to reach for her shoulder like I had for Jake. “I mean that. Say, I’m going to run back over and get changed. Please let yourself in?”

She nods and I dash back across the street just as Orla, Zack and Nicole are sprinting inside from their cars. With a quick word to my daughter to welcome the neighbors, I dash back to my room and toss my soaked things into the bath tub. I absolutely do not reach for my nicest jeans because Elizabeth Burns is coming over to my house. They just happen to be on top of the pile in my drawer.

I drag a comb through my damp hair and pull on an undershirt. If it was just the family, I’d head back out just like this and throw on an apron. But, I reason, the messy work of the meal has already been done. I can wear a nice polo at least. No reason not to pull myself together for my new almost-neices.

I walk back down the hall and see Beth arguing with Jake about putting on a dry shirt. She sees me and pinches her lips together. “Kellen, I didn’t realize this was a special night with your family,” she says. “We can’t intrude like this.”

Cal pokes his head through the garage just then. “Who? Us? Special? Neighbor gal, I hate to tell you but we’re real gross and obnoxious.”

Beth smiles at his candor. “It’s not an intrusion at all,” I assure her. To the room at large, I say, “Elizabeth and Jake are going to eat out on the deck. Special project.”

“Oh that sounds nice,” Nicole says, standing and walking toward the door. “It looks like it’s clearing up anyway.” Orla slides open the screen door and starts taking plates and condiments outside while the guys start shifting chairs. I’ve only got four cushioned chairs at my patio table, but nobody seems to mind sitting in staggered height, mismatched seats.

Elizabeth seems a bit shell shocked by all the commotion. I should have warned her that everyone was coming. The Bradys can be sort of a lot when we’re all clumped together. But I hated to see Jake upset like that unnecessarily. After all, his therapist gave him homework.

Jake approaches Maddie as he reluctantly pulls on the dry shirt from his mother. He stares at her for a bit, and seems deeply uncomfortable. She smiles and offers him a hand to shake. “Hi,” she says, her eyes bright. “I’m Maddie. What’s up?”

Jake blinks a few times and bites his lip like he’s trying not to say something, then blurts, “Have you been mating with one of the Bradys?” The room goes silent, and I know I shouldn’t laugh. I know it. But lord, what a question.

“Jacob Todd Gaston! We have discussed this.” Elizabeth is red from the tips of her ears to the knuckles of her hand that she tries to cram into her mouth.

Nicole and Maddie burst out laughing. Jake looks confused and Maddie and Nicole pull themselves together and cough. Elizabeth corrects Jake, saying, “It’s more common to say ‘are you expecting a baby,’ but it’s also not polite to ask a woman if she’s expecting a baby because we never know what her circumstances are.”

Jake seems to contemplate this answer, and looks embarrassed about a social misstep, until Nicole claps him on the back. “I like the blunt approach, kid. Maddie and Liam have been mating like beasts. Their baby boy is coming in just a few months.”

I clear my throat. “Jake, would you like to help me gr— would you like to help me barbecue the chicken?” He nods eagerly, and I slip outside with the pan of meat, my new neighbor in tow.

“I want to apologize for laughing in there just now,” I tell him.

Jake studies me. “Mom says people laugh when they’re shocked or uncomfortable sometimes. Like when I’ve done something in gross opposition to social norms.”

I nod. “That’s true. I really wasn’t expecting that question, but that might be because all of us already knew Maddie was expecting a baby.” I try to use his mother’s language, hoping it will set him at ease.

I hand him the tongs and gesture for him to set the meat on the grill, which he does well enough. “Expecting a baby feels like it must be a euphemism,” he says. “Expecting it to do what?”

I think about this. “Well, expecting it to arrive. Anticipating.”

“Anticipating,” he says, nodding. “I like that. Mr. Brady?” He looks at me and hands me back the tongues.

“Please call me Kellen, Jake.”

“Kellen. Ok. Kellen?”

“What’s up?”

“Your house is my favorite thing about this neighborhood so far.”

My heart stutters in my chest at his words. “Wow, Jake. Thank you so much. I’m glad to have you for a neighbor.”

He smiles briefly, then looks back at the chicken. “I feel like I can ask all the questions I need.”

I nod. “You can definitely ask all the questions you need.” I feel overwhelmed by his candor, and so moved that I created a space where he feels safe. I think about how little I did—talk tires with him in the driveway, troubleshoot his problem. It makes me wonder what Elizabeth and Jake’s lives were like before they moved here, if such a small thing makes this boy’s day.

“Let’s go ahead and take some of these off the flame,” I tell him, holding up the tray. “You can help me serve the outdoor barbecue meal.”

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