Tom and Leslie shared dinner making duties. Their kitchen was huge with a restaurant style six-burner stove with two ovens and grill, functional butcher-block center island with its own sink and two burner stove, and cabinets everywhere. Over the real sink – two basins with a spout and controls for each – was a bay window looking halfway down to Atlantic Cove and halfway out towards Trinity. Leslie made salads with vegetables from a garden directly beneath the window on what had to be the only tillable land on the island. Tom came up from the basement with some frozen hot Italian sausages in his hand and set them on the center island next to some pizza shells he’d just rolled out. Brian sat at the cherry wood Shaker-style kitchen table. Behind him another bay window watched the approach to the house of the one trail which eventually led up to the top of the island and, halfway there, branched off to Trinity Cove. Earlier, when Tom and Leslie were out and Brian was home alone, he’d walked through the house and wondered how many trips Calum and Uilleam had made in their little ferry to outfit this house. He knew his aunt and uncle had money but how much money did you need to build a place like this? Whatever house originally stood here couldn’t have been like this one.
Aunt Leslie held out two bowls, one of sliced frozen sausage and the other of freshly sliced pepperoni. “You like hot sausage on your pizza, Brian? Maybe pepperoni instead? Uncle Tom makes great pizzas.”
Uncle Tom nodded. “That I do. Best pizzas for miles around.”
Brian stared out towards the cove. “There’s nothing but ocean for miles around.”
Tom and Leslie rocked with laughter then the kitchen fell silent while Tom sliced vegetables and Leslie grated cheeses. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Would anybody like some music?”
Brian kept his focus out the bay window. “How come you don’t beleive I saw something?”
Leslie glanced over at Tom as he finished topping the last pizza. “Never said that, Buddy. Care to help me put these pizzas in the oven?”
Brian didn’t move. “You think I’m nuts, then.”
Tom opened an oven door and put the pizzas on the racks inside. “Didn’t say that, either.” The oven door closed as he walked towards the table.
“Then what the fuck do you think? Do you think I’m lying? You’re just like my parents. That’s why they sent me up here. They thought I was lying about Danny, too.”
Leslie washed out some bowls. “I think you’re pretty upset.”
“Oh, fuck you, too, Aunt Leslie.”
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