Page 123 of Keepsake
“Where did Jude find it?” Griff asked. “Tell me it’s not a junker like that Avenger of his.”
“It’s bad, but it’s notthatbad,” I said. “I started looking at all the used cars for sale, just to get a feel for the prices, because Chastity will need a car eventually. And then I realized I needed one, too.” I stole a glance at Lark, and she smiled at me. “I can’t borrow a vehicle every time I want to go to Boston, right? So I just bought it.”
“Did you take out a loan?” Griff asked.
“No. Cash.”
“Good man. Though an old Ford will be a gas guzzler. Gonna cost you to drive it to Boston every weekend.”
“Maybe he won’t have to drive that far,” Lark said quietly. “Maybe.”
“Why?” I asked, slipping my hand into hers under the table.
“I had two interviews this week,” she said. “One was in Boston. But the other was across the river in Hanover.”
“At Dartmouth?” May asked, her face brightening. “I love this idea.”
Lark nodded. “I had a long talk with the dean of the geography program. There are a couple of professors in the department who work on food security and environmentalism. I asked myself, ‘What does a spoiled rich girl do after her life blows up?’ And the answer is—go to grad school. I’m thinking of applying to the PhD program.”
I smoothed my thumb over her hand. “You’re not the least bit spoiled, Lark. But that sounds interesting.”
“I really like the idea,” she admitted. “But of course I might not get in.”
“Do your parents know anyone at Dartmouth?” Griffin asked. “Might be time to call in a favor or two.”
“I’m sure they do,” Lark said slowly. “But I don’t want to be that kid who relies on her parents’ connections. We’ll just see what happens, I guess. My other interview was a little more practical. There’s a non-profit in Boston that sources sustainable ingredients for luxury food companies. You know—shade-grown coffee and fair-trade chocolate. They might have a new position opening up.”
I squeezed Lark’s hand. “Is there travel?”
“That’ssome. But you know what? They’d heard about me.”
“Who had?”
“The people at this company had heard about my troubles in Guatemala. I guess nonprofits are a small world. And—this really surprised me—they said, ‘We never would have sent you to that region. And we sure wouldn’t have sent you there alone.’” Her eyes darted up to mine. “I really needed to hear that.”
“I bet,” Griff said.
“Yeah. I just spent a month trying to forgive myself for what happened. And today, this guy who interviewed me was better than my overpaid psychiatrists.”
“Why?” I asked softly.
“Because it wasn’t his job to try to make me feel better. He was just stating his opinion. And his opinion was that the timing and location of my trip to Guatemala was a terrible idea.”
“Amen!” May said. “We’re glad you’re here. Eat some black-eyed peas just for insurance. They’re good luck on New Year’s.”
“Do we know how that tradition got started?” Kyle asked. “Not that I need a reason to eat Audrey’s cooking.”
“They’re humble,” Ruth said. “So we’ll start the New Year with humility.”
“I’m already humble,” Kyle said, stabbing another slice of ham off the platter. “It’s hard to walk around all day and not boast about all this perfection.”
A chorus of groans ensued, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was holding hands with Lark under the table, and trying not to get too excited about her potentially moving to Hanover.
Lark
After dinner, I made a point to hang out with May for a while. It’s something I would have done anyway, even if it weren’t for her recent confession of love I couldn’t return. I’d always made time for her, and that wasn’t about to change.
So I dragged her into the TV room while Zach was washing dishes, just so I could give her my Christmas present—the luxury lip glosses in their sleek little silver case.
