Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
W E TRACK AN OCEAN INTO THE HOUSE, AND REENIE doesn’t seem to mind. I hand over the berries in their dripping cardboard boxes.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she says. “I thought Cor- mack was getting berries, but instead he decided to let a young woman pick them up by bike in a thunderstorm.” I get the feeling this argument has been going on for a while.
“I’m fine, it was sort of exciting. And then Dan rescued me.” My face goes hot when I see the smile creep across Reenie’s face. Cormack looks down at his paper, but there’s a hint of a smile there too.
“So what are these all-important berries for?” Dan asks, rescuing me again.
“I’m going to make a berry pie for dessert, Grandma’s recipe.” And then, to me, “You go take a hot shower and relax.”
“If I take a quick shower, can I help you? Make the pie?” I have a quick thought that the family recipe is a secret and that I’ve asked for too much.
She smiles at me, and I remember there are no secrets here. “Yes. Go. Then we’ll get started. I’ll make us some tea.” Locked in the bathroom, I text Clem: There was making out. In a car. Fogged-up windows and see-through wet clothing. He said a thing about my smile. What is this??
*
I SCORCH MYSELF in the shower and dress in jeans and a sweater to keep the heat in. It’s about four o’clock, and Paula and Aidan are still out somewhere with the girls. Reenie’s at the kitchen counter in an apron, holding a bag of flour expectantly. She has a pastry cutter and a bowl of cold butter cut into little pieces. She shows me how to cut the butter into the flour, and she lets me mold it into a ball. My hands are sticky and I have flour all over my wrists. Dan is sitting at the counter, reading something on his phone and also watching us. Every time our eyes meet, my face melts into a smile and I have to look away. I have completely lost control of my face.
“So I saw Jack,” I say once the crust is chilling in the refrigerator. “I forgot to tell you. When we were driving.” I feel myself blush. Reenie hands me a cup of black tea with honey and cream, and I bury my face in it.
Dan’s smiling at me. “That’s a big thing to forget,” he says.
“Yeah, well, it was a bust.”
“He said no?”
“No, he was mobbed by women and was also on the phone. I called to him, but he didn’t recognize me. And he left.” I don’t tell him that I threw garbage at his car. Not my best moment. I give him an exaggerated oof.
“Okay, well, that’s two almosts in two days,” he says and holds my gaze. He means two run-ins with Jack, but I think of two run-ins between us.
“I think that math adds to zero,” says Cormack over his newspaper.
I laugh. “Yes. Zero.” And my eyes shoot back to Dan’s.
Aidan and Paula come in with Ruby and Katie around five. Aidan drops a baguette and two packages of steaks on the counter. “Looks like we’re cooking these inside,” he says.
“Jane’s making Grandma’s pie,” Reenie says.
“I am. It’s my first pie, and so far it has not been easy. Seven more minutes in the fridge.” We’ve already rinsed the berries and I’ve been instructed to cut the strawberries in half. I’ve tossed them with sugar and a teaspoon of cornstarch, and I’m keeping the bowl very close to me.
My mom didn’t bake, and I’ve never seen a rolling pin in real life. I love the smooth feel of it and the messy way Reenie tosses flour onto the kitchen table so that the dough won’t stick. I love flattening the ball of dough with my hand and then rolling it with the pin into a not-quite-right circle. I love lifting it and the way it breaks before it gets to the pie plate and how I can fix it by just pressing it back together.
“You’re a natural,” Reenie says, and I beam.
I pour the berries into the crust and put the whole thing in the hot oven. I do feel natural here, I realize. My thoughts and words come out entirely unrehearsed. I can admit to not knowing how to do something and try. Laughter comes out of me as easily as my breath. It’s a new feeling to be so much myself and to still be invited deeper and deeper into this family. Knowing their family recipe gives me a very specific and unnameable kind of pleasure.
“That’s it,” Reenie says. “Now we wait.” She shoos me into the living room, where Dan’s making a fire and Ruby’s watching cartoons on the floor, chin in hands. He’s on his knees stacking wood and balling up scraps of paper. I sit on the couch and watch him. In a matter of hours, everyone in this house is going to be going to bed, including us. The thought of it makes my chest pound. One breath closer to Dan, one single item of clothing so much as pushed aside, and I will come completely apart. I know it. Dan himself is the point of no return.
Dan gets the fire going, a little crackle and pop to start, and sits next to me on the couch. I can smell the woodsmoke on him. Woodsmoke and cedar and milky tea. My instinct to bury my face in his neck is strong.
“I like this storm so far,” he says and puts his hand on my knee. I stare at his hand there for a second, considering the power it has to electrify me so casually, through denim, no less.
“Yes, I’ve had worse,” I say and trail my fingers over his knuckles. We’re just looking at each other and enjoying the crackle of energy that’s alive between us. I wonder if they can see it from space. “You didn’t tell me how the library was.”
“So many topics we haven’t covered today.” He entwines our fingers.
The front door opens, and it’s Connor and Marla with Sammy. The open door lets in the din of the storm. “Tree fell on the power lines on our street. Complete blackout,” Connor says.
Reenie takes Sammy by the hand. “Well, it looks like we’re going to have a big sleepover.”
“Thank you,” Marla says. She’s brought a tray of chicken that she’d been about to cook and puts it in the top rack of Reenie’s oven above my pie. Suddenly we are in a crowd. Sammy climbs on the couch between us. Katie is in my arms. Paula and Aidan are sharing an armchair. Marla has her feet on the coffee table, eyes closed and hands resting on her pregnant belly.
“So how are we all going to sleep?” Connor asks.
“I definitely need a bed,” Marla says. “I can sleep with you guys.”
“Great,” I say and don’t meet Dan’s eye.
After dinner, Reenie invites me to cut my pie. The first piece is tricky, but the rest come out fine. Reenie puts her arm around me and tells me I did a great job, and everyone around the table says how delicious it is. My smile could crack my face, and Dan is watching me. I think of what he said in the car, and I wonder if I’ll ever smile again without thinking of that.
*
WHEN I’VE brUSHED my teeth, I find Marla asleep in my bed, which I get. I wouldn’t want a pregnant woman climbing up the ladder to the top bunk, and the bottom bunk probably feels claustrophobic. I climb up the little ladder at the foot of the bed and crawl up to the pillow.
Clem texts me back: What did he say about your smile
Me: Something really romantic, about how he likes seeing me happy
Clem: Jane
Clem: This is love talk
Me: Maybe?
Clem: Omg
Me: I know. I’m scared. He’s just the most deliciously no b.s. person, like all the way through
Clem: No b.s. is GOOD. You’re scared because it’s big. That’s okay! I’ve been waiting for this to happen. Never thought it would be man bun Dan, who knew. You have my full support
I’m still wide awake when Dan comes in. Standing, he’s level with my bunk.
“You’re okay up here?” he whispers.
“Yeah.” I turn on my side to face him.
“Okay.” And he’s not going anywhere. He just stands there with his face by mine in the darkness. “Sorry it’s such a zoo here.”
“I like this zoo.” He takes my hand and I lean in toward him. We are a right angle. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep if he doesn’t kiss me good night. Beneath us, Marla turns over in her sleep. Dan lets out a sigh. “Good night,” I say to keep myself from saying, I really, really like you. So much that my chest hurts.
“Okay,” he says. He lets go of my hand and then holds his fingers up to mine so that each of them touch. It feels like a promise. He lets them fall away and gets in bed below me. I hear him pull up his covers, then pull them off again and get up. His face appears at bunk level, leaning in. “I really liked this day,” he whispers. “Besides the time we weren’t together.”
“Same,” I say.
He’s locked in on my eyes, and he’s daring me to say something more. I have too many over-the-top feelings spinning around my head to get a single one out. He reaches out and moves my hair off of my shoulder. The tips of his fingers trace my neck and then my jaw, and I let out a breath that comes from a place I didn’t even know about. He says, “Tomorrow.” Another promise.