Page 107 of Keepsake
Every night I went to bed alone in my old childhood bedroom. It was bigger than the room I’d had in the bunkhouse. And quieter.
I missed Zach terribly. I wanted to call him just to hear his kind voice in my ear. I wanted to get into my car and drive up to the Shipleys’, just to get one more of his hugs.
But I didn’t do it. I wasn’t ready. If I saw Zach again, I needed it to be at a moment when I didn’t need him for a crutch.
On my hardest days, the ones where I couldn’t stop crying, I worried that day would never come.
31
Letters
Dear Lark,
Accordingto these instructions from your doctor that Ruth pried out of your mom, we can only reach you by writing letters on paper, and we’re supposed to stick to happy, casual topics.
That’s easy for me because you’re my happy thought.
Don’t feel obligated to write back. I really mean that. I’d rather you just concentrate on feeling better. But I think of you whenever I walk into the Shipleys’ kitchen, or pass the door to your room in the bunkhouse. So I thought you might want an update on what’s happening here.
Audrey is back! Griffin is so smiley it’s like his face is broken. Kyle teased the crap out of him the first few days, but of course Griff doesn’t care. By the way—Audrey loves the kitchen in the bungalow. She cried when we showed it to her. That shade of ivory paint you chose for the woodwork looks great, by the way.
We’re picking the last of the late season apples this week and next. Then Kyle and Kieran will go back to their parents’ place, and Griff and I will spend all day pressing cider. The first barrels of the season are almost ready for bottling.
It’s cold in the mornings now. When I let the cows into the dairy barn, you can see the puffs of their breath from those big velvet noses. And Griff sent the male calves off to freezer camp, so we’ll be eating (humanely raised) veal soon.
The calves were really cute, though. Griff always looks a little extra grumpy on the day he sends them off to the butcher. And Dylan found two or three different reasons he couldn’t be around when we loaded them onto the truck.
I’m going to sign off now because Audrey is in the kitchen making her famous braised pork enchiladas and Dylan wants to set the table where I’m writing.
By the way, May is at the other end of the table, also trying to write you a letter. She keeps tearing off sheets of paper and crumpling them up into balls, though. So I’m thinking you might be waiting another week to get hers.
All my best,
Zach
Dear Lark,
At Thursday dinner Maeve asked me to read her a story. Ruth has this basket of children’s books she keeps for Maeve. So I read that one about the red hen who asks all the other animals to help bake the bread, but they won’t say yes until it’s time to eat it.
Maeve pointed at the chicken and told me she was a “red sex-linked, maybe a Golden Comet, except the feet are wrong.” I laughed my ass off because I’ll bet most toddlers can’t name the species of their storybook chickens.
Then on Sunday I took Ruth to church, and Father Peters read from Thessalonians. “For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.”
Funny, right? I don’t know what message God is trying to send me, though. I picked about a million apples this week. Maybe He wants two million.
We had a dusting of snow last night. It’s melted already, but Dylan got excited and waxed his snowboard. Every year he asks me if I want to learn. Maybe this year I’ll say yes.
Audrey has been testing pastries for the coffee shop that she’s opening with Zara. There’s an apple turnover so good it made me want to cry. But my favorite thing so far is a pumpkin whoopie pie with cream cheese frosting.
Now I’m hungry again, darn it.
In other news, Chastity already got a seasonal job working at the pharmacy in Colebury. Isaac has to drive her there for now, until she can take driving lessons and save up for a car. I told her I’d help her find a junker, and that Jude and I would help fix it up.
I hardly recognize Chastity. They took her to the salon for a trim, and she got a buzz cut instead. Leah is amused. She says that Chastity’s M.O. is to spend each day showing Paradise Ranch her middle finger.
Getting sleepy now. I’m writing this from my bunk, and Kyle started snoring already. A week from now I’ll be alone in here. I’ve fired up the masonry heater so it’s nice and warm. I’ve started studying for the GED, so the quiet will help with that.
Be well, Lark. Look kindly at yourself. That’s all I ask of you.
