Page 40 of Keepsake
“Shocker!” came Griffin’s voice, and then someone else laughed.
“And Mayisn’ta virgin!” I yodeled.
There came a violent thump on the wall near my head. “Better be joking!” Griffin called.
“Nowdo I get to fuck someone up?” another voice asked.
“Oh Lark. You are such a troublemaker,” May said, flinging herself onto the bed. I held up a hand, and she high-fived it. Zach just grinned at us both, and then swiveled out of the doorway to get ready to go to the Goat.
Part Two: Mid Season
Cortland
Honeycrisp
Haralson
10
Zach
The Abrahams hostedthe Thursday Dinner where we all toasted Audrey’s temporary departure. She and Griff sat at the head of the table, practically in each other's laps.
Nobody let Audrey cook that night, insisting that she shouldn’t have to lift a finger on her last night in Vermont. Leah made grilled pork with a spicy apple chutney and a potato salad that was lavender because they’d just harvested their purple heirloom potatoes.
My job was to keep Maeve occupied so she wouldn’t be underfoot in the kitchen. Even though I didn’t know a thing about toddlers, Maeve and I were old friends. She was born in the Abrahams’ bedroom the first year I lived in Vermont, so I was one of the first people she ever met.
“Come here,” I told her for the hundredth time in an hour as she danced toward the kitchen again. “Your mama is getting the dessert ready, okay?”
“What is it?” Maeve asked, wrinkling up her little nose.
“Baked slugs with a crumb topping. And dandelion ice cream.”
“Zaaaach!” she shrieked, and the pitch practically split my head in two. “Icky!”
“Fine,” I said, scooping her up to sit on my knee. “You can have the apple cobbler. I’ll keep the slugs all for myself.”
She scrambled to stand, grabbing my shoulder with one little hand, then bracing a foot perilously close to my balls. I let her scale me like a tree, because my childcare game has always been weak. She wrapped one of her stubby little arms around my head, and I peeked out beneath it to see Lark watching me with a soft expression on her face.
I smiled at her, because my dignity was already compromised. And looking at Lark always made me want to smile anyway.
Maeve stayed in my lap through dessert and insisted on feeding me. Soon I had drips of ice cream on my shorts. Oh well.
I was so busy trying to wipe up after Little Miss Sticky that I almost missed what was happening at the end of the table.
“I’m gonna miss you, Princess!” Griff said to Audrey.
“Back atcha, Griff,” his girlfriend said, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
“This is so you don’t forget where you belong while you’re yukking it up in Paris.” He set something on the table, and I squinted to see what it was—a wooden fruit crate so small that it would fit in the palm of Audrey’s hand.
“That’s so cute!” she squealed, lifting it. “I love it. It’s for…soap?” she guessed.
“Sure,” Griff rumbled.
But there wasn’t any soap in the little crate. Audrey lifted out a small wad of red tissue paper. She fumbled with that for a moment, finding a tiny satin bag inside.
And then she lifted a sparkling ring out of the bag.
