Chapter 23
Relief of all reliefs, Pumpkin Day begins the morning after I move into Dominic’s shed. This means that I don’t have time to ruminate on all the things we said, or the embarrassment I’m still swimming in, or the possible meaning behind the necklace I once gave him that he apparently still wears.
Instead, I spend the day scurrying around like a pumpkin with its lid cut out, directing all our activities and making sure the events move along at the right times.
The kids have a blast with the craft stations Farmer Joe and I set up, and he’s even good-natured about losing the pumpkin weigh-in to the FFA students from the high school.
I get to say hi to Ari for a minute there too, her fake boyfriend at her side.
“You two do not look fake,” I whisper to her, glancing at Wade when he’s not paying attention.
She blinks uncertainly. “You think?” she says as she looks at him too, and I give her a knowing grin before waving and hurrying off to keep the day rolling.
When the afternoon arrives and the carving contest begins, I’m able to take a moment of rest. I sit on one of the benches lining Main and watch as Joe narrates the pumpkin carving. There are a few adults participating for themselves, but it’s mostly kids and parents together.
My dad and I did that one year. He let me choose the face we made—a smiling jack-o-lantern with stars for eyes. I don’t remember if we won. I just remember how much fun it was, doing something together, being so excited.
“Nice sweater.”
I startle at the familiar voice and turn my head. It’s Dom, strolling toward me with his hands in his pockets and a baseball hat shielding his eyes. His gaze is on my shirt, and I glance down too.
I’m wearing my orange sweater again, but today I’ve taped on two triangle eyes and a smiling pumpkin mouth, all made of black construction paper I pilfered from Nate’s house early this morning.
I look up at Dom just as he drops onto the bench next to me. Only when he’s so close do I see the feather necklace; it’s outside of his shirt today. My heart jumps and my cheeks heat, but I don’t say anything. Even when he notices me looking and raises one challenging brow, I don’t comment.
If he’s not going to mention it, I won’t either. My mind tries to leap to all sorts of conclusions, though—and I’m talking Olympic record, pole-vaulter leaps. He always kept the necklace hidden before.
But it’s out there now, and he sees me looking, and he’s daring me to say something. What am I supposed to do with that? What messages am I supposed to be getting here?
Why aren’t Ari and Liv here when I need them?
“How’s Pumpkin Day going?” Dom says, and I tear my eyes away from the necklace.
“It’s been good,” I say, facing forward. I nod at the carving contest, relieved to have something else to think about. “Did you ever do this?”
“No,” he says, his voice musing. “But I think Emma might have won once when we were kids.”
I hum. “And what are our parents up to today?”
Dom leans back and folds his arms, huffing a frustrated laugh. “My dad works today, I assume, so he’s safe for the time being.”
“I went over to Nathan’s early this morning and Alvina was still asleep.
” I pause, remembering the state of our previously shared room when I poked my head in.
“She hasn’t said anything about me moving out, but she has her clothes laid out on the bed I was sleeping in, so she clearly knows I’m not there anymore. ” Then I frown, turning to Dom.
He raises his eyebrows when he sees my expression and waits for me to speak.
“How did you get my car to your house last night?” I say. “It was in your driveway when I got up.”
“Oh,” he says. “I stole your keys.”
I snort at this, but he goes on.
“No, I’m serious,” he says. “I grabbed them last night. They were in the outside pocket of your duffle. I forgot to tell you, but I did. After the rain stopped I drove the truck over”—he nods down Main to Berk’s—“and left it in the parking lot. I drove your car back to my house and walked here this morning.” His eyes trail over the pleasant hubbub of the festival around us. “It’s not a bad walk.”
He’s right, but still.
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or scold you,” I say, unconvinced.
A smile twitches over his lips, and he grabs the bill of his hat, adjusting it mindlessly. “I’m open to either.”
I open my mouth to respond, but my phone rings, the tinny strain of “Monster Mash” by Bobby Pickett. I pull it out and look at the screen while Dom shakes his head and grins at the ringtone I downloaded this morning.
I frown, though, because it’s Alvina’s name that’s popped up. Alvina doesn’t call unless she needs something, so I answer quickly.
“Hi,” I say as a twinge of nervousness finds me. “What’s up?”
“A woman of class answers the phone more politely than that,” Alvina says, and my body relaxes at the disapproving note in her voice. If she’s immediately telling me what I’m doing wrong, she’s fine. In fact, she’s right where she wants to be.
“Sorry,” I say automatically—and I’m keenly aware of Dominic still sitting next to me now, of apologizing to my mother out of habit rather than need. “But what is it?”
She sniffs, a fussy little sound I hear even over the phone. “Daryl has informed me that there’s a potluck dinner tomorrow evening,” she says. “He thought it might be fun if we all attended together.”
“All of us?” I say, blinking in surprise and glancing over at Dom. “Like, our families?”
Dominic’s brows jump in question, and I hold up a finger to tell him to wait.
“Of course,” Alvina says. Then, her voice more uncertain than I’m used to, she goes on, “He feels very strongly about families. He says spending time together is part of a healthy relationship.” After a pause, she adds, “I suppose…I can see what he means.”
I genuinely have no words.
“Anyway,” my mother clips on, back to herself once more, “I’ll expect you at the church tomorrow evening. Wear something suitable for a gathering, please.”
“It’s a potluck,” I say blankly.
“Something suitable for a potluck, then,” she says, and I can picture her exact expression—dismissive, already moving on to other, more important things. “Goodbye, sweetheart.”
She hangs up without letting me speak, and I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it. Then I turn to Dom.
“I think our parents have invited us to dinner.”
“What—the potluck?” he says with a frown.
I nod as a breeze whooshes past and pushes my hair into my eyes; tucking it behind my ear, I speak again. “She says your dad thinks it would be fun for our families to get together.”
Dominic’s expression is grim now. “I’m not sure fun is the word I would use.”
“Me either.” I swallow. “She also says she can see what your dad means when he says families should spend time together.”
An exhale issues from Dom, slow and measured, as his features tangle into something less certain.
“But we’re supposed to be breaking them up, not getting together with them,” I go on.
He glances at me, adjusting his hat. “Well…” There’s debate in his eyes, and then he shrugs. “I was sort of planning on going anyway. You know the food is always good.”
I bite my lip.
“And you do love dessert.” His voice is expectant, leading. “Especially pumpkin desserts…”
“I love pumpkin desserts!” I burst out. “And Patty Keller brings a pumpkin roll every year and it’s always so good!”
“No one does a pumpkin roll like Patty,” he says with a nod; the feather necklace around his neck shifts with the movement, but I force myself not to look. “So should we go and see what happens? It won’t hurt anything.”
He’s right. It won’t hurt anything. So I nod too. “Yeah,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
Dom slaps his knees and then stands up slowly, shaking his arms and legs like he’s an old man who’s been sitting too long. “I’ve got to go,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “The festival waits for no man.”
“That’s fine,” I say, and I stand too, glancing at my sweater to make sure all of my pumpkin face is still attached. Then I gesture to the lively goings-on around us. “I need to get back to all the pumpkin stuff. I left Joe by himself.”
“I’ll see you tonight, then,” he says as he heads off.
But I almost trip over my own feet. “What?”
He stops and turns back to me, folding his arms slowly and raising his eyebrows. “You’re staying in my shed, Berkeley. I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” He pauses. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
But there’s laughter in his voice and mischief in his eyes as he looks at me. My gaze drops to the feather necklace; when he sees this, he smirks, tucks the necklace back under his shirt, and then waves over his shoulder as he walks away.
When I return to Dom’s house after Pumpkin Day is over, I’m breathing a bit easier about tomorrow’s potluck. A new worry finds me soon enough, though—because I really, really need to shower.
I let myself into the shed and look around for a second, not sure what to do or where to be; finally I sit down on the lumpy sofa and sink back into the cushions with a sigh of relief. Then I pull out my phone.
I bite my lip as I stare at it, debating. Dominic said I could come use the shower in his house, but that idea is a little…scary? Intimidating?
The alternative is to go back to Nathan’s or to wash myself in a river. Since I am not a river-washing kind of girl, and since going to Nathan’s requires driving somewhere rather than walking across a single yard, in the end I decide to give Dominic’s shower a try.
Dialing his number—which I absolutely do not have memorized—I bounce my foot and ignore the butterflies taking flight in my chest. It’s just a shower, a quick trip inside the house. I wanted to see more of the interior anyway.
This will be fine.
“Berkeley.”
I startle when he answers the phone. “Hi,” I say quickly, straightening up like a prairie dog. “Hello.”
“Hi,” he says, and there’s faint amusement in his voice.
“Uh, I was hoping I could use your shower. If that’s okay,” I add.