Page 42 of Keepsake
I, for one, was not astonished. “Many are called, but few are chosen.”
Jude quirked an eyebrow. “Is that aStar Warsquote?”
“No!” I barked out a laugh. “It’s Matthew 22:14.”
“No wonder I don’t know it,” Jude said, unconcerned. He set down his soda glass. “I’d better get home. Sophie’s probably back from her coworker’s birthday party. Night, guys.”
I watched him congratulate the happy couple, thinking about the parable I’d just quoted. A biblical king had invited the whole countryside to his son’s wedding. And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw a man who “had not on a wedding garment.” The king asked for an explanation of the man’s lowly attire, and none was given. So the king had his servants “bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
When I was a boy, the preacher had explained that the man’s disrespect was the cause of his downfall. But I’d always sided with the poor slob who’d shown up underdressed. Even now that I had a good job and friends who were good to me, I was never going to forget that I’d been bound up like the man in the story and tossed off the premises.
Part of me was always waiting for it to happen again.
When my watchbeeped the next morning I opened my eyes to find myself alone in my bunk. Disappointment settled into my chest until I realized that Lark had enjoyed a peaceful night alone in her bed.
That’s a good thing, asshole, I reminded myself.
It was Friday, which meant no farmers’ market with her either. I got up and headed for the dairy barn, passing Lark’s door on quiet feet. I hoped she’d enjoyed many hours of blissful sleep.
This morning May had gotten up even earlier than the cows. She’d driven Audrey to Boston Logan airport for a seven a.m. flight. When Griffin walked into the dairy barn alone, Dylan handed him the shovel. “You’re on shit patrol.”
His brother grunted. “Should I bother asking why?”
“You’re late,” Dylan pointed out. “And I assume that’s because you spent the night getting epically laid.”
“That’s not a punishable offense,” Griffin muttered. But he took the shovel anyway and started cleaning out the gutters while Dylan and I finished the milking.
Afterward, I helped Griffin carry some of his belongings into the bunkhouse. “Which bed do you want?” I asked him, standing there with a plastic bin of his belongings.
Chuckling to himself, Griffin removed Kyle’s made-up mattress from the lower bunk on the left. He set it on the floor for a moment while he swapped the empty mattress from the top bunk into the lower spot. Then he replaced Kyle’s mattress and pillows onto the top spot.
“He’s going to kick your ass.” I chuckled.
“Watch ’im try.”
We ate breakfast, which was a somber affair without Audrey. Everyone was used to her cheery smile and the way she flipped omelets and pancakes with the grace and precision of a circus performer.
In spite of the cooler temperature, Lark was wearing the same pair of white shorts which had driven me insane during our first market day together. I stopped sneaking looks at her when she handed me a plate heaped with scrambled eggs and bacon. It was the sort of feast I hadn’t enjoyed often enough growing up.
After breakfast I followed Griff to his house to start work on packing up the kitchen. I heard a car on the gravel drive and looked out Griff and Audrey’s window to see Lark pulling up in her little car.
“I brought the bins and boxes that May left for us!” she said, coming through the door with a smile. “Where do you want ’em?”
“You’re the best, Wild Child,” Griff said. “Can you help pack some stuff up?”
“Of course.” Lark opened the refrigerator door, a bin at her feet. “You want these leftovers?” she asked, holding up a plastic container.
“Hell yes, woman,” he growled. “That’s my lunch. Don’t toss anything Audrey cooked. I’m heading into a dry spell, here.”
Lark snorted. She moved on to the cabinets next, packing the dishes into boxes while Griff and I disconnected the old refrigerator and carefully eased it from its spot against the wall. He had to remove the front door and its hinges to get the thing outside.
“So now it’s demo time?” I asked Griff after we wrestled the old fridge out onto the driveway.
“This wall goes first,” he said, laying a hand on the one between the kitchen and the dining room. “I ordered a new cabinet for this spot. It will have a counter top and a couple of bar stools. To open up the place a little.”
“That’s going to look great,” Lark said, coming to peer through the doorway at what would become the view. “It will let in more light. And someday Audrey will be able to keep an eye on the kids while she cooks whatever gourmet feast she’s whipping up.”
My gaze went toward the front of the house as I pictured that. And when I checked Griff’s face, there was a secretive little smile on it. Like maybe he’d thought of that already. I let myself indulge in his fantasy for a second, and liked what I saw—setting up a house for my family.
