Page 4 of Keepsake
This is good, I reminded myself.These are nice people, and this is a safe place. The safest place in the world. I’d always loved it here.
May held a wine bottle in her hand. “I’m sticking with water, but I could pour you some wine. Any interest?”
“Hell, yes.”
Cousin Kyle laughed at someone’s joke, and I smiled at him, doing my best impression of a happy, well-adjusted person. I would work on this farm and share meals with these people. I would smile and act normal for as long as it took. Until acting normal seemed normal again, and the dragons in my heart forgot to blow their fire.
2
Zach
Thursday dinner requireda great number of pots and pans. I washed them all, one by one, hanging them from the old hooks above the sink to dry.
“Zach, honey?” Ruth came into the kitchen with the nearly empty pie plate. “You don’t have to do all of these yourself, you know.”
“I don’t mind,” I said. The Lord knew I ate enough meals in this house. And most Thursdays Ruth had the neighbors over for dinner. It was a tradition that started because of me. A couple months before I made the big move down the road from the Abrahams’ to the Shipleys’, Ruth had started up with Thursday Dinner as a way for me to stay connected to my adoptive family.
Ruth worked her butt off all week long, and then she threw a feast on Thursday, too. A few pots and pans were the least I could do.
“While you’re here, I have some things for you,” Ruth said, setting a stack of books on the countertop. “The librarian had four of the ones you requested, but she’s still waiting on that C.S. Lewis title.”
“Oh, awesome.”
Ruth straightened the stack with the practiced hands of a mom who was used to tidying up after a big family. “Didn’t we have all the Harry Potter books, though?”
“Nobody could find number six,” I said, rinsing soap off a pot.
“Ah, okay. I also brought you a book you didn’t request. It’s something I picked up for you at the bookstore.”
My heart sank when I saw the title:Acing the New GED Tests. She’d been urging me to take this set of tests which would result in a certificate that was almost a high school equivalency. I wasn’t looking forward to it. “Thanks,” I said anyway. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s my pleasure. You’re going to do well on these tests. You’ll see. The last thing I have for you is the final slice of apple cranberry pie.”
“Now you’re talking,” I said, and she laughed. “That goes down easier than a test any day of the week.” I rinsed out the last saucepan and tipped it onto the rack to dry.
“I’ll just find you a fork.” She put the piece of pie on yet another plate that would need washing. I would have been happy to eat it right out of the pan, but that wasn’t how Ruth did things. She always treated me as well as her own children, and I was grateful.
I wasn’t a Shipley, though. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to pretend, this wasn’t my family. And the timing of the GED book’s appearance felt ominous. While I’d listened to Audrey’s plans to learn more about the cidermaking business, I’d realized that Griff was gaining a new business partner as well as a life partner. Audrey did part-time work for a farm-to-table program in Boston, but her real work seemed to be helping Griff grow his cidery.
And now his brother Dylan had opted to go to college only part time, using his other hours to work for the family, too. The more help Griff got from his family, the less he’d need outsiders.
No wonder they were urging me to figure out my next steps. While the Shipleys would always need seasonal help on the farm, I worried that my cushy live-in, year-round gig was drawing to a close.
Feeling blue, I took my pie into the dining room. My seat had been taken, so I leaned up against the wall and took the first bite of heaven. Nobody made apple pie as good as Mrs. Shipley’s. The buttery crust crumbled when I broke it with my fork. And her secret ingredient—sweetened cranberries—burst on my tongue when I chewed.
Before I came to Vermont, I didn’t know that food could be both plentiful and wonderful. When I was a child, there was never enough. Even after four years, I still felt a little stunned every time I sat down to another generous meal with the Abrahams or the Shipleys.
Who wouldn’t want to stay right here until his ass was kicked out for good?
I ate while eavesdropping on the conversations around me. Keeping tabs on everyone else was a skill I’d needed to survive my unusual upbringing. My giant, needy family had always been rife with factions and uprisings. Listening more often than I spoke was just common sense.
But the listening I did at the Shipleys’ table was for entertainment value, not survival. Griffin and his cousins were arguing over where we should go out drinking tomorrow night.
“Dude, the Goat is cheap, and it’s close,” Griffin said. “Don’t harsh on the Goat.”
“Look,” argued his cousin Kyle. “I’m in favor of the four-dollar beers and the short drive. But I swear they named that place after the women who drink there.”
“Naa-aay!” added Kieran.
