Chapter 5 Cooke
COOKE
“How much more time do we have?” asks Gavin, skipping along beside me as we make our way to the next home he's convinced should allow us to shovel their snow. The sun is dropping down, a thin rim of red on the horizon, and I glance at my watch.
“This'll have to be the last one. It'll be full dark soon, and I'm sure you'll want to eat some dinner before I take you home.”
My voice is gruff, but Gavin doesn't notice. He just grins at me. “Definitely will want food.”
He devoured lunch when we took a break earlier, then did it all over again when I suggested a snack.
This has been hard work, but I'm surprised at how invigorated I feel.
Like being out in the crisp, cold air doing physical work makes me feel a little more alive.
It's such a change compared to what I'm normally doing.
Sitting in my chair, staring at the screen, and arguing with people on my phone.
Completely opposite. Maybe it's the work or maybe it's being around the energy of youth.
“Do you ever get tired, Gavin?”
He cocks his head, like he's truly considering my question. Then he shrugs. “Sometimes, I guess. But when there's stuff to do, I like to just get in there and get it all done. It's like when they talk to us about goals in school. Gives me something to focus on.”
“Like this gift you want to buy?” He glances sideways, as if there's someone around who might overhear our conversation. “You haven't told me who you're getting this gift for. Do you have a certain amount of money you need?”
“I have ideas. Things I think she'll like.” His cheeks are red, but that could be from embarrassment or just the cold.
We start scooping at the top of the driveway, waving to the couple watching us from the window. We settle into the easy rhythm we've developed, working side by side, and it's comforting to just focus on the moment.
“My sister's really nice, you know.” The comment surprises me.
“I’m sure she is.”
He takes a deep breath. then leans into his shovel again, the metal edge scraping against the concrete. “She just got scared when I wasn't home. She has a lot of responsibilities.”
The kid is so serious, too serious in my opinion. Like he's trying very hard to be an adult, when he should be able to just be a kid.
“What about your parents? Your mom and dad?”
It's a question I shouldn't ask a kid I've only known a day. Way too personal. But it’s an opportunity to understand and I'm shocked to find I really do want to understand what his life is like.
“My mom had some problems. I couldn't stay with her. If Gretchen hadn't been there, I'd have gone to a foster family.”
I nod, my own history looming large in my mind, but I push it away. I rarely allow myself to think about my past and this moment isn't about me. “And your dad?”
Gavin shrugs. “Don't know him. Mom never talked about him, and Gretchen told me she thinks his name was Carl. That's all she knows. I don't think he was around for very long.”
“Families are complicated.” I offer what I hope doesn't sound like a trite comment.
It's true. Families are complicated a lot of the time.
But they can also be simple. “And still, the best ones feel easy.
They may not look like other people's families, but they're still family all the same. I count my best friends as my family.”
Gavin's attention stays on the path he's clearing directly in front of him, but I see some of the tension slip from his shoulders.
It's amazing to me that I'm sharing this much with such a young kid, but strangely, he reminds me of myself at that age in so many ways.
The only difference, really, is that I didn't have someone like Gretchen willing to take care of me.
There's not much else for us to say. We work, side by side, as the sun goes down behind us, and night falls.
Gavin devours the pizza slices, one after another, and as fast as he's devouring them, I expect that he can't keep talking, but he defies expectation.
“I like my school here. The teachers aren't too mean, and they have interesting classes. They do some good trips that aren't boring.” He takes a bite, chews, and then inhales through his nose before continuing. “The other kids are better than I thought. Not as awful as they could be.”
“High expectations, huh?” He quirks his brows up at me, and grins, still managing to keep his mouth closed as he chews his latest bite.
“You haven't been around kids in a long time, I think.”
That comment makes me study him. “What makes you say that?”
He shrugs. “The way you talk. Like we're both grownups. But I like it. Gretchen doesn't talk down to me either. She tells me I'm smart enough to make decisions, so I should have the information I need to make good ones.”
Oddly enough, even though I've only met Gretchen once, I can hear her voice saying that exactly in my mind. “That's a good thing. It means she trusts you. And that she'll help you.”
“Can we take her some pizza?” His plate is empty and there's a final slice on the platter between us. He looks at it, and then at me. “I don't need to eat that piece.”
“Does Gretchen like pepperoni?” I'm actually curious. In those few minutes last night, she didn't strike me as someone who ate much pepperoni.
Gavin shakes his head. “No. She only gets it for me. What she really likes is ham and pineapple. It's her absolute favorite.”
“Then let's do this. You eat this last piece if you want it, and we'll order a small one just for Gretchen. Sound good?”
His lips spread in a wide smile, and I force down the chuckle threatening to burst free at how purely happy this kid looks. Like I've promised him the world with this last slice of pizza. Or maybe it's being able to give his sister something she'll enjoy just as much.