Page 29 of Steadfast
More than a few people laughed. “Let’s find her a chair,” May suggested.
Jude handed the toddler off to a young couple, and I was introduced in quick succession to the parts of the Shipley family that I didn’t know by name. Griffin Shipley introduced me to his girlfriend, Audrey, two cousins, an aunt and an uncle and an elderly grandfather. There was also a hunky blond farmhand named Zach and two more neighbors.
“Got that?” Jude joked after the introductions were made.
“No,” I said, and everyone laughed.
“Let me get her a glass of cider,” Griffin said. “Actually, grabtwoglasses, Audrey. I want her to taste the Dooryard and our prizewinner.”
“Yes, captain!” his girlfriend quipped, opening a cabinet full of stemware.
“You know they win awards for these?” Jude asked. “The price of all that success is that he has to talk like a French wine snob. You should hear how they go on about theterroireand the fruity overtones and the mushroomy lowlights.”
“Mushroomy lowlights?” I laughed.
Griffin snorted. “That sounds like something in the laundry hamper after we muck out the dairy barn.”
Jude smiled at me as I took the first glass from Griffin. To say that this evening had become much more interesting than I’d expected was a massive understatement. I tasted the cider. Truly, it was wonderful—just the right balance of sweet and tart. “Wow,” I blurted. “This is great.”
“Tell him the flavor is ‘round.’ That’s snobspeak for ‘good.’ He pops a boner if you say it’s ‘round.’”
“Stop.” I gave Jude a slight elbow jab. “It’s really good. No mushroomy lowlights. Here.” I offered Jude the glass.
Jude gave his chin a tiny shake. “No thanks. Not my thing.”
“Really? It’s awesome.” I held the glass out still, because it was unlike him to refuse to try something.
Jude didn’t say anything, but Griffin’s wince made me realize the stupid mistake that I’d just made. Jude didn’t taste the award-winning cider because it wasalcoholic. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“No big deal,” he said, and he meant it. His eyes were amused. “You and Griff can drink my share. I’m just gonna say hello to Zach for a minute, and find myself a soda.” He slipped away.
Griffin and Audrey explained what made the two ciders different, and I tried to listen. But I couldn’t stop tracking Jude as he moved around the room greeting people. He looked comfortable and happy. My heart splintered every time he smiled.
Jude found us seats side by side. Two full-sized dining tables had been lined up, end-to-end, and I counted sixteen people around the table. Yellow candlelight flickered on faces and brought out the sun-bleached highlights in Jude’s hair.
“Let’s say grace,” Mrs. Shipley said. “Dad? Will you do the honors?”
Everyone at the table began to clasp hands. I took the tiny hand of the toddler beside me with my left hand. And then Jude’s palm slid onto my right. I closed my eyes against the feel of it. His big hand was roughened from work, as it had always been. The familiarity is what really killed me. It was hard to be here with this oddly sanitized version of Jude. The wearer of flannel. Diet Coke in his glass. This was a Jude from an alternate universe. But I knew if I slid into his arms he’d feel so achingly familiar—broad and warm and strong and so verymine.
“Amen,” mumbled Grandpa Shipley.
Jude dropped my hand again.
Chapter Nine
Jude
Cravings Meter: 2
Thanksgivingat the Shipley’s was a lot like the other Thursday Dinners, only with fancier side dishes and more guests. And Grandpa Shipley wore a bow tie.
But it was special to me, because I’d never been to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner before. Not since grade school, anyway. When I was a kid, my dad and I got take-out and watched football on TV. He’d buy himself a bottle of whatever and end the night passed out in his chair. Happy holidays.
Sophie would have loved to invite me over, but her father gave her so much grief about me that I always begged off.
So this was nice. Though bringing Sophie with me was probably stupid. Getting her out of the downpour wasn’t wrong. She’d been wet and ornery looking, and now she looked happy and relaxed with the Shipley clan doing its thing, drawing her into their center.
But it was still a dick move, because I know I’d done it to show off.Look at me, I have friends who aren’t druggies. I’m such a winner. But of course it was a goddamned lie. Just because the people in this room hadn’t seen me at my worst didn’t mean that they were really mine.
