The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

MADONNA, “CAUSING A COMMOTION”

1987

Eve

I wasn’t dead, but I was grounded at least six feet under. My father didn’t say the word “eternity” when he took my car keys and banished me to my room “for the foreseeable future,” but it was sternly implied.

He found my stash of alcohol buried by the creek that ran between our lot and the five acres that had just sold next to us on the outskirts of Devil’s Head, Missouri.

“Your dad’s worried,” Mom said, poking her head into my bedroom as I leered out the window through binoculars at the moving van backed up to the white farmhouse past the small orchard of apple trees.

My room was the only room in the house with a full view of the farmhouse.

“Yeah? Well, what’s new?” I mumbled, watching a young child run up and down the ramp at the back of the truck as two guys carried a sofa into the house.

“Eve, what are you looking at? Where did you get those binoculars?”

“They were in the attic. And I’m looking at the new neighbors since I have nothing better to do.”

She plucked the binoculars from my hands and brought them to her eyes, scrunching her nose. “Don’t you have homework?” she asked, leaning closer to the window.

“No,” I laughed and grabbed them back from her. “Duh. I graduated.”

“Oh.” She tried to hide her grin. “Sorry. It’s just a habit to ask you that. You know who our new neighbor is, don’t you?” She sat on the end of my bed.

“No,” I said with a frown. “No one tells me anything except to do my homework.”

“Eve, it’s Fred Collins’ younger brother. Do you remember Fred?”

“Dad’s friend from seminary school?” I asked.

“Yes, and he was the best man at our wedding.”

“And yet, you married dad. Does that mean you settled for the second-best man?”

“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny. His name is Kyle, and he has a five-year-old son, but I don’t know his name. We should introduce ourselves and see if they need help. Yesterday, Dad told Fred that you and Gabby would be willing to babysit Kyle’s little boy.”

I glanced back at my mom and offered a fake smile. “How nice of him to offer my services.”

“You can’t clean motel rooms forever.”

“I mean,”—I shrugged—“I could. It’s a real job. Someone has to do it,” I said, demonstrating my inability to shut my mouth. My specialty was making ridiculous and often frivolous cases for things that didn’t matter. And jokes. I loved a good joke.

“Also, sweetie, now that he bought that house, the apple trees belong to him. You can no longer take apples from the orchard without permission from Mr. Collins.”

“As if he’s going to know. Do you think he’ll keep an exact count?”

Mom sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “We taught you better, young lady. You’re eighteen. Out of high school. And?—”

“Grounded. Yes. I’m aware. That seems ridiculous. Adults shouldn’t be grounded. I think Grandma Bonnie should ground your as—” I cleared my throat. “Your butt for the speeding ticket you got in Evansville last month.”

“It was a warning.”

I smirked. “Because you flirted with the cop.”

“Eve Marie Jacobson, I did not flirt with the cop.” Her cheeks turned ten shades of pink. “Listen, you live under our roof, and there are rules. If you break them, there has to be consequences,” she repeated the same lines for the millionth time. “Had the cop given me a ticket, I would have had to pay it. That would have been the consequence of my action.”

I brought the binoculars to my eyes again. One of the guys carried a box toward the front door. “I’m not sure treating me like a child is a fair punishment. I should get some leniency since I finished so much homework that they gave me a diploma. Or can’t you just give me a ticket that I can pay? What about a warning? If I unbutton the top of my blouse and gasp as if I have no idea I’m breaking some law and fake a deep Southern accent with lots of ‘oh mys’ and ‘golly gee willikers,’ would you let me off with a warning?”

“I did not unbutton my blouse. And if your dad heard you talk to me like this, he’d tack on another week to your grounding. We’ll give you leniency when you stop acting like a child.”

I chuckled. “Drinking alcohol feels like something an adult would do. I was just doing grown-up things. You’re always telling me I should act like an adult if I expect to be treated like one.”

“I suppose we could let you suffer adult consequences for doing illegal things like underage drinking.”

“Where’s his wife? What does this Kyle guy do?” I changed the subject. “Is he a rancher?”

“I don’t know what happened to his wife. Fred just told your dad that he’s raising the boy alone, and your dad didn’t ask any more questions. Kyle is the new high school football coach and math teacher.”

“Math? Sounds like a nerd,” I mumbled.

“If you mean someone with a college degree and a good job, then yes. He’s a nerd.” Mom shot me a smug grin when I lowered the binoculars.

“Is that another reference to my job? I bet you’re glad someone cleans your room while staying at a motel. And I don’t think teachers make that much money. That’s probably why he’s a coach too.”

“Get up. Let’s see if he needs help.” Mom jerked her chin like yanking on a fishing pole with a big bass on the end of the line.

I wasn’t a fish.

“I’m not allowed to leave my room unless it’s to work, eat, or go to the bathroom,” I said with an exaggerated shrug.

“Unless your dad or I give you permission.”

“Gabby can help. I just started a new book, and I’m in the middle of a chapter.”

“What book?” She stopped at my door and eyed me through tiny, distrustful slits.

“ The Bible .”

Mom returned a raised eyebrow.

I shot her a cheesy grin while slipping the binoculars into their case.

“What book in The Bible are you reading?”

“Ezekiel.”

She didn’t believe me for a second. “That’s a good one.”

“It’s not,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s rather apocalyptic.”

She narrowed her eyes and twisted her lips. I was slightly offended that she seemed so surprised by my biblical knowledge. Preachers’ daughters knew more than anyone needed to know about The Bible . Of course, Dad spent most of his time reciting Exodus and the Ten Commandments while I stashed alcohol by the creek and masturbated to sinful music.

“Gabby’s at Erica’s house. Your dad is at the church. It’s just us until dinner. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

After a reflexive grumble, I used the bathroom and pulled my dark hair into a ponytail before heading downstairs and shoving my feet into my red and blue KangaROOS with their useless pouch that I’d had high hopes for when I bought them.

“You don’t need to tell Kyle you’re grounded,” Mom said as I followed her outside.

I laughed. “Why? Because you know it would sound ridiculous since I’m an adult?”

“No, because telling everyone makes you sound whiny like a child instead of an adult.” The wind caught her brunette hair, which she’d recently grown out from a mullet to a layered wolf cut—very Princess Diana.

“I’m not whiny.”

She laughed. “You can’t even say that without whining.”

I returned to my grumble instead of anything that could sound like a whine.

“Howdy, neighbor,” Mom said as two men carried boxes into the house while the boy with dark, curly hair chased a dragonfly.

“Slow down,” I whispered to the boy as he passed me.

He stopped, brown eyes wide as if he were in trouble.

“Hold out your hand like this and hold still.” I lifted his hand out in front of him and helped him hold still. After a few seconds, the dragonfly landed on it. Then he giggled, and it flew off.

“Howdy, yourselves,” one guy said.

I turned back toward my mom, and my jaw dropped when he smiled. The nerdy math teacher had a hot friend with golden blond hair that swept along his sweaty forehead and brilliant blue eyes with tiny creases at the corners when he smiled. He set the box in the entry and lifted his shirt to wipe his sweaty face.

I may have peeked at his abs.

My mom was happily married to a man of God (except during traffic violations), so I stared at the guy’s abs long enough for both of us.

“Are you Kyle?” Mom asked because she was stupid.

Of course, he wasn’t Kyle.

There was no way that guy was a math teacher with a kid. Math teachers had pocket protectors and glasses with transition lenses, not hard abs.

“I am,” he said.

My gaze snapped from his abs to his face.

“I’m Janet Jacobson, Peter’s wife. And this is our middle child, Eve.”

“Oh, yeah. Fred told me you were my neighbors. It’s nice to meet you.” He offered his hand to my mom, and she shook it like a normal human.

However, I didn’t notice he offered to shake mine until my mom nudged me, but it was too late. “H-hi,” I stuttered, even though I wasn’t one to stutter or lose my mind over a guy.

He inspected me with a slight raise of his brows, rubbing his lips together before clearing his throat. “I’m teaching Trig and Calculus at the high school. Will you be in one of my classes?” His lips twisted like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Again, my mom elbowed me.

I straightened my back and smiled with a quick inhale. “No. Uh, I graduated. I’m eighteen. An adult. No longer in school.”

And I had diarrhea mouth. A simple “no” would have sufficed. I didn’t melt at boys’ feet. But he was a man, not a boy. Still, I felt ridiculous.

“Eve wasn’t the best at math.” Mom tee-heed.

I shot her a scowl. “I was fine at math.”

“You barely got a C in Algebra.”

“It was Algebra II, and it’s because everyone thought Mr. Dillon would drop the semester final, but he didn’t. And I had a meet, so I didn’t have enough time to study.” I laced my fingers behind my back and eyed Kyle with a nervous smile.

Why did my mom insist on embarrassing me?

“Oh, this is my buddy, Adam,” Kyle said as a stocky guy squeezed past him.

Adam stopped. “Hey.”

“These are my neighbors, Eve and Janet Jacobson. Janet’s husband and my brother are best friends.”

“Nice to meet you,” Adam said, smiling at my mom before gazing at me. His grin morphed into mischief as he adjusted his John Deere baseball hat. He shot a look in Kyle’s direction like they had some secret. “ Eve , I’ll keep my distance.” He winked at me.

Kyle pressed his lips together to hide his grin, but my mom did not try to hide her laughter. “Adam and Eve.” She slapped her hand to her chest. “Oh dear. And my darling Eve loves apples. She was stealing them from the orchard before you bought the property.”

Who didn’t love a good Adam and Eve joke? Me. And I loved jokes, but not stupid ones.

Adam continued toward the truck.

“Daddy!” The boy ran up to Kyle and hugged him. “I want a snack.”

Kyle ruffled the boy’s dark, curly hair. “Okay, in a minute.” He rested his hands on his shoulders and turned him to face us. “Josh, these are our neighbors, Janet and Eve. Can you say hi?”

Josh tucked his chin with a bashful smile as he mumbled, “Hi.”

“Hi, Josh. It’s nice to meet you.” Mom playfully pinched his cheek.

He giggled and squirmed out of Kyle’s hold.

“How old are you?” Mom asked.

He held up five fingers.

“Aw, the fabulous fives,” Mom said.

Josh ran into the house.

“More like the ferocious fives.” Kyle sighed.

“Well, our youngest, Gabby, is sixteen, and I know she’ll babysit. Eve works at a motel and loiters at the nursing home to avoid chores, so she isn’t as available.”

“Loiters?” My jaw dropped. “I volunteer . And Grandma Bonnie is there. And I’m done between three and four every day. So, I'd be available if Kyle ever needs someone to watch Josh in the evenings.”

Everyone said I was just like my mother—feisty and stubborn—and that’s why we butted heads. But what kind of mother threw her child to the wolves like my mom did to me?

She rubbed my back. “Don’t forget, you’re always out with friends—when you’re not grounded.”

I wasn’t supposed to mention it, but it was okay for her to call me out?

We stepped aside to make room for Adam as he carried another box into the house.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kyle said.

“What can we do to help?” Mom asked.

“I think we’ve got it.” Kyle headed toward the moving van.

I watched his ass the whole way. He had a nice ass. Not flat like a lot of guys, but not a bubble butt either like Tom, my junior prom date. But who was I kidding? Kyle and Tom weren’t even in the same league.

Boy vs man.

“Eve, grab a box,” Mom said. She wasn’t good at taking no for an answer when it came to helping people. My dad was the pastor at the only church in Devil’s Head, so hospitality was my mom’s specialty.

She excelled in potlucks and fundraisers.

Wedding receptions and funeral luncheons.

“Daddy! Snack!” Josh yelled from the front door.

“I don’t have much for a snack, buddy. We have to run to the grocery store.” Kyle and Adam carried a leather recliner down the truck’s ramp.

“Eve can take Josh to our house for a snack if you’re comfortable with that?” Mom offered.

I wanted to stay and help Kyle and Adam. If I left, who was going to keep an eye on Kyle’s nice ass?

“Would you mind?” Kyle asked, glancing at me while they carried the chair to the front door.

I plastered on a smile. “Not at all.”

“Josh, follow Eve. She’s going to get you a snack.”

“Gummy bears?” Josh looked to his dad for confirmation.

“I don’t know. Just go see, and please be good.” Kyle replied, disappearing into the house while my mom followed them.

Josh hesitated to take my proffered hand, doing his shy chin tuck before resting his little hand in mine. He didn’t know we were about to be best friends because I had an instant crush on his daddy.