Page 8 of Keepsake
I noticed that Griffin didn’t bother to nail me with the speech or the glare. That’s just the way it was. My celibacy was widely acknowledged and occasionally teased.
“The second thing is that I have a plan for while Audrey is gone to France.”
“Is it a cure for sexual frustration? Because I’m all ears,” Kyle said.
Griff ignored him. “I’m going to redo the kitchen in the bungalow, as well as the half bathroom.”
“By yourself?” Jude asked.
Griffin chuckled. “With your help, I hope. Got any extra hours for me? The pay is the usual rate, plus all the apple pie you can eat.”
“Sure, man,” Jude said. “I’ll give you my Mondays off. But Saturday is for Sophie. If she goes to visit her mother, I’ll have even more time for you.”
Griffin lifted his chin. “I really appreciate that. Thank you.”
“Hang on,” I said slowly. “You’re going to rip out the old appliances and fixtures, re-plumb, sand and paint the cabinets…”
“And remove a wall,” Griff put in. “And change out the countertops.”
“And harvest twenty thousand apple trees?” I asked.
“Andmake a record number of cases of cider.” Griff grinned at me in the dark. “In the next twelve weeks.”
“Um… How is that all going to happen?” I wanted to know.
Griff couldn’t resist aStar Warsquote. “Do… or do not. There is no try.” He spread his arms wide, then dropped them. “I don’t fucking know how it all gets done. But after Audrey leaves I’m going to move into the bunkhouse with you guys. That way it doesn’t matter if there’s no water or electricity in the bungalow.”
I was already thinking through a plan of attack. “The appliances have to go first. That will give us some room to work.”
Griff clapped me on the shoulder. “Yeah. And you can help me install the new ones. But mostly I have another job for you. Ready?”
“Sure?”
“I want you and Lark to handle every one of the farmers’ markets this season. That’s going to help me balance the farm labor and cidermaking with the renovation. I’ll be ten times more efficient if I’m not driving all over Vermont four days a week. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure. Done.” It took me a minute to wrap my head around this little promotion. Until now, there’d always been a Shipley at every market. Getting the right stuff on the truck and selling through the inventory was a bit of an art form. So I was happy that he trusted me with that whole revenue stream. And? Time alone with Lark.
Pinch me.
“And, Dyl?” he addressed his younger brother. “You’re the dairyman whenever you’re not at school. I’m paying you starting right now, since you’re a part-time college man.”
“Sweet.” Dylan liked the sound of that. In less than two weeks he’d be driving to the University of Vermont three days a week. His twin sister was going away to Harkness College in Connecticut, full time, and would miss the harvest season.
“And nobody spill my secret to Audrey, all right? The kitchen is a surprise for her. I’m going to start the demolition the minute her plane takes off.”
“Sure, man.”
“That’s all I had to say. G’night, guys. Sleep well because I’m gonna work your asses off.”
Griff and Jude walked back toward the farmhouse, with Dylan trailing them.
Kyle and Kieran and I headed the other direction, toward the bunkhouse. “Dibs on the shower,” I said.
“Damn you,” Kieran muttered.
“I’ll hurry,” I promised as we reached the stone structure.
The Shipleys’ bunkhouse was an old building that had stood for a century. It had wide pine plank floors and a big oak door. I loved this place.
