Chapter 18 #2
Still concealed behind the cupboard door, I heaved out a sigh. When I couldn’t hide in there any longer, I grabbed a bowl I didn’t need and set it on the countertop. “Take Shay outside and show her around the coop.”
Gennie reached for Shay’s hand, saying, “Stay with me. I won’t let them peck you.”
The coop didn’t need to be checked. The egg boxes were empty.
I knew this because I checked them before Gennie and Shay arrived from school this afternoon.
But I needed a minute because I couldn’t breathe with the pressure of getting this right for Shay.
I would’ve been fine with any reaction other than this one.
Even if she’d declined the invitation and walked out the door, I would’ve handled that without issue.
This…was different.
While they were outside, I pulled several dishes from the oven and did my best to make them presentable. I owed Fig and Fennel, the meal delivery people, a fuck-ton of fresh basil for this special order.
Shay and Gennie returned when I was popping the cork on a bottle of white wine.
“No eggs,” Gennie announced, turning the basket upside down as proof.
“They were perfectly behaved,” Shay added.
Gennie bobbed her head. “I threw them a cookie.”
“Where did you get a cookie?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. I had it in my pocket.”
“That’s just great.” I shared an exasperated glance with Shay. “Time to work your salad magic.”
Shay settled onto one of the stools on the other side of the island, her hands clasped under her chin as she watched Gennie climb up her stepladder and get to work. “I have to see this,” she said.
“It’s magic,” Gennie started, “because I throw these ugly things into a bowl and mix it up, and then it’s not ugly anymore. And it tastes good. Magic.”
The ugly things in question were salad greens, slivered apple, nuts. A light vinaigrette. A bit of cheese. But I didn’t mind the theatrical production of it all if it resulted in Gennie consuming a salad without first drowning it in ranch dressing.
I held up the uncorked bottle. “Wine?” I asked Shay.
She waved it off. “No. Thank you. I—I’m abstaining this week.” She laughed to herself, glancing away. “I had more than enough last weekend. As you might recall.”
“It happens to the best of us.” We couldn’t talk about any of the things I recalled from that night.
Couldn’t do that. Couldn’t go there because it was impossible to fall asleep without thinking about her in bed and I couldn’t look at raspberries without comparing them to her nipples—and I’d yet to find a raspberry I liked better. “Water? Soda? Pirate juice?”
“Pirate juice,” Gennie repeated in her jazzy jingle voice.
“Water would be great,” Shay replied. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I’m feeling useless over here.”
“You just spent the past two hours tutoring my niece out of the goodness of your heart,” I said, filling a glass of water for her.
“Don’t feel too guilty about sitting.” I set the glass in front of her, avoiding her outstretched hand because I couldn’t touch her right now.
Not even a light brush of the fingers. It would kill me and I had to keep it together for at least another hour.
To Gennie, I asked, “How’s the magic coming? ”
“Almost done.” She frowned at the salad bowl. “It’s time for the apples.”
Shay watched as I carried several dishes to the table. “What have you cooked up tonight?”
“I have reheated. Gennie’s doing all the cooking here.” I motioned to the dish. “It’s not much. Some macaroni and cheese, a veggie gratin, and the Fig and Fennel spin on pot roast.”
“And apple salad,” Gennie called.
“An updated version of apple and carrot slaw,” I said.
Shay started to respond but stopped herself. “That’s— no .” She gave a slight shake of her head, the corners of her eyes creasing. “Is that Lollie’s special occasion menu?”
“As much of it as I could remember,” I said. “The veggie dish was hazy to me. I hope this is okay.”
“You—” She pressed her fingers to her lips, held them there as her eyes glistened over again.
It was very important to my continued existence that she not shed those tears.
I would not be able to keep my hands to myself if she cried.
“I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe you remembered. Thank you.”
“It was Gennie’s idea.”
When in doubt, throw the kid in front of the problem. Excellent distraction; worked every time.
“Remember how I asked you all those questions about your favorite things? And you told me about your Grammy’s parties when good things happened?” Gennie asked, deviousness sparkling in her eyes. “It was my secret project for your birthday.” She held up the salad bowl. “Magic all mixed in.”
I took the bowl from her and motioned for Shay to take a seat. “You’re an excellent spy,” she said to Gennie. “And look at these placemats. Wow. This is amazing.”
Gennie beamed as she settled into her seat beside Shay. “We did a good job?”
“You did a great job,” Shay replied. She glanced across the table at me. “Thank you.”
I shrugged as if my grip on the fake side of this marriage arrangement wasn’t precarious at best. “No problem.”
For several minutes, the meal served as an adequate distraction for everyone.
Gennie was busy deconstructing everything on her plate and picking out the bits she deemed palatable while Shay kept up a running chorus of murmurs and quiet groans.
I did my damnedest to exist without making anything awkward.
It was unproductive to admit this but I’d harbored a slight hope that Shay would’ve walked downstairs and reacted to this little celebration by rushing over and throwing her arms around me and demanding I reciprocate.
These were the hopes I’d always harbored, the ones that always went unfulfilled.
And this was a problem I created for myself.
Over and over and over I expected an outcome that would never materialize.
Hell, I’d married her on the off chance the playing field would shift and that outcome would move into my reach.
But nothing had changed. Not really. I could throw all the birthday parties I wanted and pick her up at all the dive bars along the Narragansett Bay and give her everything she needed but none of it would change anything for us. It wouldn’t change anything for her.
And that was okay. I could live with that.
I could shove the truth aside one more time, a thousand more times, if it meant she had what she needed.
A birthday party, a ride home, a husband in name only.
We were here now, we were in this, and it didn’t matter whether I’d vowed to save myself from falling down the same old hole for Shay Zucconi again.
I had to accept that those fantasies of her running into my arms—and falling apart in my bed—were fully unattainable.
That wasn’t going to happen. Not to me, not in this lifetime.
It was time for me to accept that, even if parts of me died in the process.
“Have you heard about the Harvest Festival?” Gennie asked as she picked the breadcrumbs off her mac and cheese.
“Not too much, no,” Shay replied. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“It’s this weekend. There’s a carnival and games and music, and a market too.
Noah said I can have money to play the games.
And there’s a face-painting booth too and you can get anything you want.
Butterflies, stars, tigers, monkeys. Anything,” Gennie said, sounding very authoritative.
“And a football game too but I don’t care about that. ”
“It’s new,” I said, “in the past few years. It’s a community event but the high school boosters group organizes it.” He shook his head with a sigh. “Though I wouldn’t call anything they do organized .”
“Everyone expects Noah to solve the world’s problems,” Gennie said.
Obviously, I had to be careful what I complained about around her.
Shay met my eyes with an amused expression.
I shrugged, adding, “It comes together in the end. It’s not bad. Farmers market, food trucks, art fair, plus everything else. It raises some money for class trips and grad night events so that’s positive.”
“And Noah got other people to work at the farm tent so I don’t have to do the pay machine.” Gennie aimed very wide, very hopeful eyes at Shay and I knew what she had up her sleeve. “Will you come with us? We could go on the rides together and play games and get frozen lemonades and—”
“Slow down,” I said to my niece. “You need to take at least five more bites if you want to have cake tonight.”
Shay fought off a smile as Gennie counted out exactly five bites and then announced, “Done. Now can we talk about the Harvest Festival?”
“It sounds like a lot of fun,” Shay said to her in a measured tone. “Maybe I can meet you there?”
There it was. The distance. The boundaries. I hated it but there was nothing I could do. This was my reality. Shay didn’t want any of the things I wanted and it didn’t matter how many times I kissed her in front of the entire town. None of it was real.
“I guess so.” Gennie pushed her plate away. “Can we open presents now?”
“Presents? No, no, no. This was all the gift I could possibly need,” Shay replied. She started gathering our plates, and when I tried to take them from her, she pinned me with a sharp stare. “I’m doing this. Be quiet.”
“You could ride in our car so Noah doesn’t have to drive you around the parking lot,” Gennie said. “Like he did after the other football game.”
Shay ducked her head, a smile pressing at her lips. “That is an excellent point.”
I glanced at Gennie while Shay was busy organizing the plates and dishes, and pointed to the gift-wrapped package on the island. Gennie got the hint and sprang up from her seat to retrieve it. “We picked this out special for you.”
Shay stared at me and gave a swift shake of her head. “You shouldn’t have.”
Before I could respond, Gennie tore the ribbon from the top of the package. “I’ll show you how to do this.”
“Thank you,” Shay replied, grinning as Gennie shredded the wrapping. “You’re very helpful.”
Gennie handed her the small white box. “Open it,” she urged.
Shay removed the lid and gasped softly. She glanced up at me and seemed poised to say something but Gennie was quick to steal her attention.
“Cows,” Gennie cried. “It’s cows!”
Shay lifted the black-and-white beaded earrings from the box and held them up. “I have never seen anything more perfect in my whole life,” she said, a grin splitting her face. “And they’re wearing little flower crowns. I can’t believe how adorable this is.”
Gennie ran a finger over the beads. She was proud of herself and I loved that. The hours we’d dedicated to hunting down the right gift had been worth it.
She asked, “Remember when I asked if you only liked fruit and fish for earrings?”
“Suddenly it makes sense,” Shay said, laughing. She met my gaze, her eyes soft yet serious. “Thank you. This has been the best birthday. I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
“You deserve it,” I said.
She deserved everything, even if I couldn’t be the one to give it to her.