fifteen | emberly
FIFTEENEmberly
“Riley and Rider are back!”
Cab rolls her window down and shouts a hello to the boys I saw her with yesterday.
“Terrific,” Will mutters under his breath. “Cab, sit down before you fall out. You can talk to them later.”
“I want to know how many fish they caught! Can I get out?”
Will sighs and stops the truck. Iris bails out of the backseat and then pauses to wave at me. “Bye, Emberly! See you later!”
“Bye.”
I slant a look at Will. He’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles look white. And scowling at the boys in his rearview mirror as we drive away.
“Are they failing seventh grade?” I venture. “Out on parole?”
“They’re regulars,” Will mutters.
And then I figure it out.
“They like her.”
Now he’s scowling at me.
“They’re thirteen. Cab’s … almost thirteen. A year ago, she thought boys were gross.”
His voice is gruff but my heart melts. The same way it did when I saw him carefully remove the pine needle stuck in Iris’s hair before giving her ponytail a playful tug.
Will, who comes across as confident and in control, is revealing his marshmallow center again.
I love that he loves Iris so much. That he’s so protective of her.
“How old were you when you had your first crush on a girl?” I ask.
“Older than them.”
I stare at him. Wait.
“Thirteen and a half,” he finally mumbles.
I laugh.
“But it’s different with Cab. She’s …”
“Your little sister?”
“Maybe.” Will pulls down the dirt road that leads to the studio and parks in front of the double doors.
I only have two bags of groceries, but he grabs both of them from the back of the truck and heads up the stairs before I can protest. Not that I would have. I’m all about girl power, but I want to spend a few more minutes with him.
Because, you know, I’m Intrigued. Will is anxious to get back to his day, yet his innate gentlemanliness (is that a word?) kicks in.
And I realize I love that, too.
“Where should I put these?”
“I cleared off some space by the coffee pot. Thank you for the, um, espresso, by the way.”
His lips twitch at the corners. “You’re welcome.”
I really want to see him smile again. Want to know what happened to their parents. If raising a sister as sweet and talkative as Iris is hard for someone who barely talks at all.
If he has a crush on anyone now.
Suddenly, I feel like I’m back in middle school.
Do you like me?
Check yes or no …
I start unpacking one of the bags because I’m not in middle school. I’m a responsible adult and the Greek yogurt I bought needs to go in the mini fridge as soon as possible.
“Your eggs are in that bag.” I point to one on the counter. “The cashier put everything together.”
Will takes the carton out and keeps going. Sets a bunch of bananas and a bag of mixed greens on the counter.
“You don’t have to help,” I tell him. “I know you have a lot to do today.”
He ignores me and removes the last item from the bag. Studies the label like he’s trying to crack a hidden code.
“You bought pie filling.”
“Iris said apple is the best. We’re going to make pudgy pies, the dessert edition.”
“Your plans tonight are with Cab?”
“Yes. If that’s okay.” I add the last part because Will is frowning again.
“The firepit is for the use of all the guests,” he says stiffly.
Yes, I’m a guest, but the truth is, I don’t want Will to treat me like one.
I want … I want to get to know him better. But it’s pretty clear he doesn’t feel the same way.
He picks up the carton of eggs and strides away, looks back when he reaches the door.
“You don’t have to hang out with Cab, you know. Contrary to what it might look like, I do keep an eye on her.”
He sounds a little defensive, as if he’s been criticized about this in the past. Which makes me want the name and address of whoever said it so I can set them straight. He’s a great big brother.
“Iris is sweet. I really don’t mind.”
Will frowns again and I can’t shake the feeling that he does.
I’m just not sure why.
I should have bought more pie filling.
The family staying in Sugar Maple and the college students who joined my impromptu exercise class have gathered around me. And they’re all staring at the iron I’m holding over the campfire with the same level of intensity as Juni, who’s camped out by my feet.
“Done?” I look to Iris for confirmation even though I’m feeling a little more confident in my pudgy pie making abilities now.
Believe it or not, there is a learning curve.
Get the iron too close to the flames and the pudgy pie burns (attempts number one and two).
Peek before it’s ready, the bread falls apart and the filling ends up on the grass (number three).
Get distracted because you’re wondering if a certain someone is going to show up and judge your work, resulting in a slightly less burned but still inedible pie (number four).
Timing is critical, so when Iris gives me a thumbs up, I open the iron, give it a little shake, and a square of cinnamon-scented, golden deliciousness drops onto the paper plate she holds out. She passes it off to Samantha from Chicago, who’s balancing a toddler on her lap.
In the past fifteen minutes, I’ve learned that Samantha and her husband are staying at Pinehart while they check on the progress of the vacation home they’re building in the area.
“I can’t find this on my calorie app.” Greta, one of the college students, is scrolling through her phone,
“That’s because it isn’t there,” I deadpan. “Vacation calories don’t count.”
Greta tucks her cell in her pocket. “Can I have seconds, please?”
I smile and glance at the garage tucked behind Will’s cabin before I start the next one.
According to Iris, aside from a quick dinner break, he’s still working on the tractor.
I’ve figured out that Pinehart is a one-man show. I don’t see anyone manning the office or taking care of maintenance. Iris is Will’s eyes and ears around the place. If there’s a problem, she lets him know.
My dad is a workaholic, so I recognize the signs, but as a senior partner in LW Realty and Developers, he could have delegated some of his duties to spend more time at home if he’d wanted to. It doesn’t seem like Will has a choice.
Samantha takes a bite of her pudgy pie and sighs.
“The perfect end to a perfect day, Emberly.”
I smile and glance at the garage again.
The only thing that would make the evening a little more perfect is if Will was enjoying it, too.