Chapter 9 #2
The day was edging into evening now and we were halfway through a second pitcher of margaritas.
As I’d suspected, hanging out in the garden was the best way to catch up—and there was a lot of catching up to do.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed since going catatonic after my wedding but also the weeks (months?
years ?) leading up to it. I didn’t love admitting it but the truth remained, my only focus had been preparing for the big day.
Even before the final countdown, I’d been consumed with planning.
It was the only thing I’d cared about. There was a month where I’d agonized over my nails—shape, length, polish color.
That these women hadn’t smothered me in my sleep ages ago was proof they were the best of friends.
“—and then, after the threesome, Keith was done. He was out and nothing was changing that. He thought he was into it. He wasn’t.
Fine, no problem, I have no need for Bears fans in my life.
But what I learned was that I didn’t want to tie myself to one person and try to make monogamy happen. It’s just not for me.”
“You’re not missing anything by sending Keith on his way,” Grace said. “That boy didn’t have the stones from the start.”
I wondered whether Grace knew my ex didn’t have the stones—and how long she’d known that. I wondered when I’d known.
I chased that thought away with a gulp of my drink.
“What about you, Shay? Getting over the ex by getting under anyone new?” Emme asked. “It’s the best medicine.”
As the question floated toward me, a familiar black pickup truck rumbled down the lane. I’d thought about him and then he appeared. Like I could conjure him on command. Now that— that was dangerous.
“Is it normal for random people to show up at your farm?” Grace asked. “Is this what small towns are all about or is this the gruesome start of a serial killer story?”
A door slammed shut, then another, and— “Shay! Guess what Dottie did today!”
“That sounds like a student,” Jaime said as she flailed, her swing twisting around and around as she turned, trapping her in the tire and preventing her from getting a look at the new arrivals. “I don’t think I’m so drunk that I’m hallucinating students but you do make a strong marg, Shay.”
I pushed out of my lawn chair as Gennie bounded over. “You’re not hallucinating. This is my friend, Gennie. She lives up the hill. Gennie, these are some of my friends from Boston.”
From the gravel drive, Noah lifted a hand in greeting.
I waved back. We’d succeeded at being friendly though distant this week, and that seemed to be working well for us.
Better this than debriefing our time together at the football game.
Better this than explaining to myself why I’d let myself into the house last Friday night and promptly slid down the panel of the door, unable to catch my breath or make sense of the hum in my veins. Or the throb between my legs.
“I went to the dentist today,” Gennie announced. Completely oblivious to the tequila fog she’d walked into. “And then the doctor, who gave me four fucking shots—”
“Hello,” Emme yelped. She pushed to her feet and adjusted her bikini top. No amount of adjusting was going to help because she was busting out of that thing and she’d bust out of every bikini smaller than a two-person tent.
“And I didn’t get to have a playdate with you because of all that bullshit,” Gennie continued.
Jaime was still stuck in her swing and Grace edged her sunglasses down to get a look at this commotion but stayed put. I wasn’t sure but it seemed like Audrey might’ve dozed off under that floppy hat.
“See? Four,” Gennie said, inching up her shorts and pointing to the Band-Aids stuck high on her thighs.
“Now you have vaccine power,” Emme said, holding out her free hand for a high five. “Makes you strong. Gives your immune system some extra fighting strength.”
Noah came up behind Gennie and set a hand on her shoulder. He forced a stiff grin. “Sorry to interrupt. We didn’t know you’d be—” He glanced around, cleared his throat. “That you’re busy.”
“It’s okay,” I replied. “My friends came down from the city for a visit. This is Emme Ahlborg.” I motioned to her beside me and then the others.
“That’s Audrey Saunders under that huge hat, Grace Kilmeade over there, and Jaime Rouselle is fighting with the swing.
Everyone, this is Noah Barden and my very special friend Gennie. Noah, Gennie, this is everyone.”
A chorus of greetings went up. A light snore from Audrey.
“Good to meet you,” Noah said.
“We’ve all been teaching together for the past few years,” I said.
“Before she left us for this pastoral setting,” Emme added.
Noah held out a paper bag. “The bakehouse did another test run. Since you liked the last one so much, we thought you’d want to give this one a try.” His gaze dropped to the cocktail in my hand. His brows lifted. “We’ll let you get back to it.”
“Thank you,” I said. “For the bread.”
He swept a glance over the scene before him, a slight smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.
“If you’re up for it, there’s a farmers market tomorrow at Travers Point Park.
There’s a food truck that does bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches.
Bodega style. Top notch. Best I’ve had outside of Manhattan. ”
“I can promise you right now that I’ll need two of those in order to function tomorrow,” Emme said.
Noah bobbed his head. To his credit, he kept his gaze on Emme’s face and away from the cleavage testing the limits of her bikini top. “There’s a nitro coffee cart too.”
Grace snapped her fingers. “Yes, please.”
“Gennie and I will be slinging jam, cheese, and bread until noon.” He reached for my cup and took a quick sip before coughing and passing it back to me. “If you’re alive tomorrow morning, you should stop by.”
“Please, Shay,” Gennie said. “Farmers markets are really fucking boring.”
Noah’s gaze pinged between my face and the drink I held close to my chest. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow.” After a beat, he steered Gennie away. “Come on, captain. Set the course for the home port.”
We watched as Noah and Gennie climbed into the truck, pulled through the circular end of the drive, and then turned back onto Old Windmill Hill. At some point, Jaime freed herself from the swing and strolled toward us, one hand tucked into the pocket of her overalls, the other clutching her cup.
Her dimples bookended her grin. “You failed to mention that your neighbor-girl’s dad hand-delivers bread to you. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember you ever mentioning Daddy Bread Baker.” She glanced to Emme. “Don’t you find that funny?”
“So funny,” she replied.
“I’ll pay you money to never call him that again,” I said to them.
“It’s not money I need,” Emme said in a breathy starlet sort of way. “It’s power.”
“Ignore her. I’ll take your Daddy Bread Baker money,” Jaime said.
“He’s just my neighbor,” I said. “And he’s Gennie’s uncle, not her father. He’s her permanent guardian.”
“Let me guess,” Jaime started, “there’s no Mrs. Bread Baker in the picture.”
I shrugged, pulling on all the ignorance I could find. “I believe he’s single.” Another shrug. “And I did tell you about him. I said I bumped into an old friend from high school.”
“You one hundred percent omitted the part about that friend being a jacked-to-shit farmer man with arms like”—she made a whooshing sound—“and his whole ‘if you’re up for some naughty farmers market action, you know where to find me.’”
“That was not at all the implication,” I said.
“You heard it,” Jaime said to Emme.
“I heard it,” the coconspirator replied.
“I heard it,” Grace called.
Audrey went on snoring.
“So, he’s a friend from high school,” Jaime started, “one with the beard scruff I’d pay real money to feel on my ass—”
“Okay,” Emme interrupted. “I think what we’re trying to say is that man came here to pay you a visit and it didn’t look like the first time.”
I swung a glance between them before staring into my cup. “I am not drunk enough for this.”
“Yes,” Jaime yelled with a pump of her fist. “And she’s back in the saddle, folks.”
“Oh, no. There is no saddle and I am not in it,” I was quick to say. “We were really close friends—nothing more—in high school but it’s not the same now. Honestly, I don’t even think he likes me.”
“The boy brought you bread,” Emme said. Jaime flailed her arms in agreement. “That’s not usually how someone expresses their disinterest or apathy.”
Exasperated, I said, “He just wants my land.”
Jaime propped her hands on her hips. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Your mind is lusty garbage,” I replied. “No, I mean he wants this land. The farm. It’s the only reason he offered to marry me. That’s why he came here and brought the bread. He wants to know if I’ve decided.”
“Now I’m up,” Grace called.
“Shaylene Joann Zucconi,” Jaime roared. “You’ve been keeping secrets, young lady.”
“You know that’s not my middle name.”
“Yes, but it felt like a Joann moment,” she replied.
“Did he actually propose?” Emme asked.
I paused. “Maybe? Sort of?” I held out my hands. “I mean, yes. In a sense. It wasn’t a proposal but more like, hey, you need to get married to inherit this place and I want some of your land so let’s do this thing. ”
“How does she have two proposals under her belt and I can’t get a good morning text?” Emme muttered.
“You didn’t think we’d want to know this four seconds after it happened?” Jaime asked. “I want to know why you kept it to yourself.”
“Because it’s not serious,” I said.
Jaime reached for my wrist and lifted the hand holding the paper bag. “The bread says otherwise.”
“Only because I went crazy for it the last time I had dinner at his house.”
“The last time you—” Jaime turned to Emme. “I can’t. I’m out of words. Help me, Emmeline.”
Emme patted Jaime’s shoulder and made a shushing noise. “I think what we’re trying to say is you’ve quietly cultivated a relationship with this guy and we are oh so very surprised by it all. Particularly the pending proposal. That’s very interesting and very surprising.”
“We are surprised,” Jaime said, drawing out each word.
“I just—” I stopped myself, not knowing what I meant to say. “He needed some cover from this woman who listens to people while they’re peeing because she’s a lot, and he’s not interested for valid reasons. That’s the only reason anything happened between us.”
“What does any of that mean?” Jaime asked.
“He needed a fake girlfriend,” Grace said.
I pointed in her direction. “Yes. That.”
“So, you helped him out,” Emme said. “You took that one for the team.”
“I did. I helped him,” I said. “And it’s the only reason he kissed me.”
“Oh my goddesses,” Jaime muttered.
“It was because this woman—” I continued.
“The one who listens to people while they’re peeing,” Emme said.
“—kept lingering and watching, and you really would not believe how persistent she is,” I said. “And that’s the only reason he kissed me.”
“How many times?” Grace asked.
“How many times what?” I replied.
“Did he kiss you,” she said.
I fiddled with the strap of my sundress. “I don’t know. A few times, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Emme said to herself as she studied the ground. She crossed her arms over her torso. “Yeah, so, he’s in love with you.”
“He adores everything about you,” Jaime added.
“Believe me, he’s not,” I replied. “He puts up with me because his niece needs help. If it weren’t for that, he’d go out of his way to avoid me.”
“He’s in love with you,” Emme repeated.
“Noooo,” I said. “That’s not what’s happening here.”
“Because it’s too soon?” Jaime asked. “Because it feels like everything ended with the ex a minute ago and you’re still processing it? Or because you’re still burned from the ex and can’t imagine getting close enough to the fire to ever feel warmth again?”
“Because you have lost your damn minds,” I said.
“Yes, I know the whole thing is crazy. Look around. Everything about my life is crazy right now. Noah is not—he doesn’t—there isn’t—no.
Just no. And I am still burned, still processing.
I can’t—even if I wanted to, I can’t. And I can’t let myself believe there’s anything more to the situation than him offering to help me deal with Lollie’s will and me offering to be his human shield.
Please don’t try to convince me. Please. I don’t think I can handle it.”
Jaime and Emme were silent for a long moment. Then Grace asked, “Is no one going to mention the kid swearing like a pirate?”
“She’d take that as a compliment,” I said. “She thinks very highly of Blackbeard.”
“She’s a hoot,” Emme said. “She’d be a handful in the classroom but she’s fun as hell.”
Grace jerked her chin in my direction. “What are you going to do about the whole marriage thing?”
“I haven’t decided,” I admitted.
“You’re considering the proposal, then.” Emme said this carefully.
I shook my head. “Not really. No. It was just a silly thing. Like I said, he’s only in it for the land and I”—my laugh was small and pathetic—“I am in no condition to marry anyone for any reason. It would be a disaster.”
Grace, Jaime, and Emme shared a glance that loudly announced their doubts.
“Well,” Jaime said, “one thing is for certain. We’re going to that farmers market tomorrow.”