Page 95 of Keepsake
Two hours later, Isaac and I were alone in the booth, except for Maeve, who was playing at our feet. Leah had taken Chastity off to a doctor’s appointment, maybe the first one in her life.
“Why does she need a doctor?” I’d worried.
“She got frostbite in Iowa,” he said calmly. “No coat. And Leah just wants to make sure there isn’t anything special she should do to treat it.”
Already, Isaac had sold all the cheeses he’d brought and a bin of late-season potatoes. He sold some honey and a few candles. And he played with Maeve, who had designated the area under the tables as her fort.
I’d done almost nothing except stare into space. “Sorry,” I said, moving out of Isaac’s way for what was probably the tenth time.
“I didn’t actually need your help today,” he admitted, sitting down on an overturned crate. “You’re really here to talk to me.”
“What is there to talk about?”
“Don’t be thick. I just wanted to tell you that even though Chastity says she came to Vermont looking for you, Leah and I are going to take care of her. You have a lot going on in your life right now. And we’re set up to help. We named our farm to help people like her find us. And now she has.”
“I still want to help.”
“And you shall. But there’s more we need to talk about. What happened with Lark? Griff said you were walking around like a zombie. Gotta agree with him about that.”
I groaned. “There’s nothing to tell. And now it’s time to pack up. The market’s over.”
Isaac let me get away with that dodge, and I helped him load his truck.
“Come on, Maeve,” Isaac called his daughter when we were through. “The market’s over.”
“Aren’t we waiting for Leah and Chastity?” I asked.
Isaac shook his head. “We brought two cars.”
I spotted Griffin waving at me from his truck, beckoning me. But I pointed at Isaac’s, then opened the passenger door and climbed in.
“What are you doing?”
“Riding back with you.”
Isaac shook his head. “You don’t have to come back home with me. Give your hero complex a day to get used to Chastity showing up, okay?” He lifted Maeve into her car seat in back and buckled her in.
“It’s not about that.” I sighed, suddenly exhausted. “Just give me a ride home, would you? You can drop me at the end of the Shipleys’ drive.”
My friend studied me for a moment. “All right.”
I looked out the window to get out from under Isaac’s stare. I was still chafing under that comment about my hero complex.
Isaac pulled the truck slowly out onto College Street. Then he had to brake again as two college guys, in their green Dartmouth sweatshirts, stepped practically in front of the truck. One time the same thing had happened, and it had set Lark off on a mini rant.“This is one of the most selective colleges in the country, and the students aren’t smart enough to look both ways before crossing the street!”
Every time I thought of Lark, my heart gave a painful kick. I looked out the window and tried to think of something else.
“Are you going to tell me why it’s so hard for you to sit in a truck with Griff and Lark?” Isaac asked as we crossed the bridge into Vermont.
Lark called it the Bridge of Big Balls, a moniker that described the concrete ornaments decorating it. I’d never cross this bridge again without cracking a smile because of her.
“Earth to Zach,” Isaac prodded.
“Can we just drop it? There’s not much to tell. I love her. She isn’t on the same page. It’s not a very original story.” Every song on the radio was about the same thing, pretty much.
Isaac was quiet for a moment. “Nobody has a bigger heart than you, Zach. Just don’t give it away, hasty-like.”
“Too late.” I swiveled my head around, wondering why Maeve hadn’t bailed me out of this conversation with one of her rambling interruptions. But the little girl’s head was tipped onto the padding of her car seat. She was already asleep. So I turned back to watch the road go by and sank a little further into my own discomfort.
