Page 129 of Keepsake
And what was one more year of not quite knowing which direction to go?
One part of my life was all figured out—the most important part. Every night when I drove home, I pulled up my aging truck behind Lark’s VW and then went inside. And there she always was, waiting for me. It gave me a thrill every single night. No lie.
Even though we were very busy, we were happy. Lark smiled more easily now. She slept easier, too. These days, when she rolled over in bed to seek my body in the sheets, it was for love.
And pleasure. We had plenty.Take that, Paradise Ranch.
Every night it was an effort not to speed toward home, just to be close to her. But now I drove very carefully through the well-kept center of Norwich, where the cops had nothing better to do than ticket people who drove over twenty-five miles-per-hour on Main Street.
As I rolled up Turnpike Road toward our little lane, my phone rang. After checking the rearview mirror to make sure no cops were behind me (Vermont had a very strict no-cell-phone law) I answered it.
“Honey, my parents are here,” Lark said in a low voice.
“What?” That wasn’t part of our birthday plan.
“They brought you a gift. It’s so nice that I didn’t even give them a hard time about showing up unannounced. Just wanted to warn you before you get here.”
“Okay… I’m three minutes away.”
“Love you, Zach.”
I never got sick of that. “Love you, too.”
Dropping the phone into the cupholder, I tried to rearrange my expectations. Now we’d be dining with the Wainrights. They were really nice to me—nicer than I’d ever expect a couple of Boston intellectuals to be toward the farm boy who was shacking up with their only daughter.
I’d really wanted Lark to myself tonight. Ah, well. There was always tomorrow night. And the one after that.
Sure enough, there were a couple of extra vehicles on the part of the gravel drive that doglegged over to our cottage. I recognized the Wainrights’ Volvo, but there was a late model Highlander there as well—a hybrid. I didn’t know anyone who drove a vehicle as new and sporty as that one.
Did we have more guests?
Outside our door, I took a minute to brush as much of the farm dirt off my boots as I could. Then I plastered on my meet-the-parents face and went inside.
“Happy birthday!” Jill Wainright called as I stepped into the door. She was holding a glass of lemonade and wearing a dress. So we were probably headed out to dinner somewhere. Maybe I could at least get a quick shower first.
“Thank you!” I said, giving her a smile. “The big two-four. I feel ancient.”
Lark’s father rolled his eyes beside her. “You shouldn’t, since you’re dating an older woman.”
“Good point.” Lark was eight months older than I.
“We’re taking you two out to Carpenter & Main,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to smile. The restaurant was one of two in Norwich, but Lark and I favored the casual, college town fare across the bridge in Hanover. Carpenter & Main always made worry that I was using the wrong fork. The food was really good, though. So at least I had that. “Let me just clean up real quick.”
“You go ahead,” Jill said, still giving me a strangely bright smile. “Then we’ll give you your birthday present.”
“But you’re taking us out to dinner,” I pointed out. “I don’t need a gift.”
She gave me that grin again. “Oh I really think you do!”
Huh. “Back in five,” I promised.
Literally the second I stepped out of the shower, Lark handed me a beer. I was still naked and dripping on the mat when she put it in my hand. “Split this with me?”
“Sure?” I took a swig.
“Try not to freak out about my parents’ gift, okay?”
