12. Reed #2
“But what does she do when she’s not at work? What does she like? How old is she? Where do you take her to dinner? Have you kissed her yet? Does she like kissing you even though you have a beard? I bet it’s scratchy, huh? Does she like horses? Has she ever played softball?”
How can one kid have so many questions in her head? She keeps asking more, giving me no time to come up with answers or even fully think about the questions.
Except the one about whether Rose likes kissing me. That one, I’m thinking about.
Luke walks into the living room in the middle of the Spanish Inquisition. “Jovie.” He uses just enough dad-voice to stop the flood of off-the-wall questions. “Aren’t you going to show me what you’ve done on the hammer so far?”
He might be trying to set a precedent that spares himself from romantic interrogations of his own in the future, but I appreciate the rescue.
“Okay. Just one more second.” She slides her butt off the couch but puts her elbows on the arm of my chair, her hands clasped. She leans in until we’re almost nose to nose. “Don’t tell them everything while I’m gone.”
“Have no fear. I won’t tell them anything.” Especially Nathan.
“Then tell me one thing about Rose.” She shakes her little prayer hands, begging for a scrap of information. “Please? Please?”
And because I’m a sucker for the kid, I do. “Rose likes to bake. She brings cookies and banana bread into the coffee shop for us sometimes.”
“Do you think she would bake with me?” Jovie’s little smile busts out like she’s already planning how they’ll team up on one of her favorite baking shows.
“I think she might.” Rose is soft-hearted under most circumstances already. She would immediately be on board the “can’t deny Jovie anything” train.
Luke holds his hand out for her. “I need to see your progress before it’s past your bedtime.”
She takes his hand but makes it clear she’s leaving the living room against her will. “Why do I have to have a bedtime in the summer?”
“Because your dad needs sleep, too.”
She squints up at him. “I guess so. You’re super old.”
“Thanks, peanut.” They round the corner into the kitchen to access the garage.
“So,” Nathan says. “You like Rose’s cookies.”
I cut him a glare. “You’re on thin ice.”
“I’m just saying.” He doesn’t tone down his gloating grin. “Sounds cozy over there.”
“She brings in banana bread?” Lucy’s smirk is about ten times stronger than it needs to be. “That’s adorable.”
“Why?”
She stares at me like I’m an idiot. She often looks at me like that, but this one’s more pointed. “Uh, because she knows you love bananas. Obviously.”
“I don’t love bananas.”
“Your favorite pie? Banana cream. Favorite pudding flavor? Banana. Who fishes through a bag of popsicles to find the banana ones?” Her eyes glitter at me. “That would be you.”
“Banana popsicles taste nothing like bananas,” Graham says.
“My point is, she’s been flirting with you through food, and I love it.”
My instinct is to argue. Rose hasn’t been flirting with me, as much as I wish she would. But I can’t admit that without putting a damper on our pretend relationship.
And yet…the banana bread isn’t the only time that’s happened.
For my birthday last fall, she brought me a banana cream pie from Blackbird’s.
When they had a special banana cupcake this spring, Rose brought me one “just because.” For Christmas, she gave me one of those Lego keychains of a mini-figure wearing a banana costume.
She paid attention to what I liked and remembered it. Just like she showed at the grocery store—she’s learned things about me. My heart beats double-time thinking about her filing information away under a folder marked Reed. Even if I probably don’t want to know everything she’s put in there.
“We’re all familiar with the wonders of banana flavored foods,” Nathan says. “But we’re missing the most important point here: Does Rose have a friend for me?”
“Absolutely not.” I cut him off before he finishes his question. I cannot overstate my disinterest in playing matchmaker for Nathan. Or Graham. Or Lucy. Any and all of my siblings.
He heaves a dramatic sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to keep talking about your love life, then.”
“We really don’t.”
Lucy sits bolt upright, grimacing like a cat just hurled on the rug. “Has she seen the shed?”
Both Nathan and Graham screw their faces into similar expressions.
I focus on the coffee table. There’s a nick in the wood Luke and I put there when we were kids wrestling in the living room. “Not yet.”
“That could be a deal breaker.”
Nobody in my family appreciates my tiny cabin.
Sure, the base building is a storage shed I bought at a big box store in Bend.
But I turned it into a house two summers ago, complete with kitchenette and a full bath.
“House” might be a generous term, but it’s essentially a studio apartment now.
My apartment just happens to be in the middle of nowhere. Right where I like it.
Nathan slashes a hand in the air. “Don’t take her there until you’re ready to get dumped.”
“That place is freaky,” Lucy adds. “Creeper cabin vibes all the way.”
It’s not as bad as all that. On the severe side, yes, but it wouldn’t feature in any slasher flicks. I turn to Graham, who I consider to be the most sensible among them.
“I wouldn’t do it,” he says.
“See if I invite any of you out there again,” I mutter.
“You don’t invite us,” Lucy says. “We just show up.”
I retreated there to lick my wounds after my last breakup knocked me flat, but that cabin has become my refuge from the chaos in the coffee shop.
I’m not meant to be around so many people day in and day out.
My cabin is small and remote, but I’ve got uninterrupted views of the mountains during the day, and a million stars at night. I’ve got everything I need.
My thoughts drift to Rose on the other side of town in her big old house that completely fails to match her style.
I’ve got almost everything I need.
Eventually, Luke takes Jovie home after many enthusiastic goodnight hugs. Mom and Dad say their own goodnights about an hour later, reminding us that whoever leaves last needs to lock up.
Mom gazes down at me as she passes. “You can stay in your old room tonight, if you want. I worry about you driving those empty roads so late at night.”
“I’ll be fine.”
She cups my cheek and gives it a pat. “You’d better.”
Mom and Dad retreat upstairs, leaving the rest of us “kids” in the living room. It’s long past time I headed home, but not because I share my mom’s fears about driving the forest roads at night. My social battery wore out a long time ago, and I’m running on fumes.
But none of the rest of my siblings make a move to leave, and I linger with them. There’s something nostalgic about sitting around downstairs after our folks have gone to bed that’s hard to resist, even if I don’t jump in to join their conversations.
Lucy swivels sideways in the chair opposite mine, sliding her legs across the arm. “If I wanted to tour the firehouse, who would I talk to about that?”
Nathan’s attention drifts to her. “You want your class to tour the firehouse?”
“Something like that?” She doesn’t sound especially sure that’s the reason.
“Why would an English class tour a fire station?” Graham asks.
Lucy frowns at him. “Maybe we’re reading Fahrenheit 451.”
“That makes even less sense.”
“Or maybe…?” Nathan prompts.
“Or maybe what?” The edge in Lucy’s voice says he’d better not push it, but Nathan isn’t known for playing things safe.
“You have a crush on one of the firemen.”
I roll my eyes. That’s it. I need to get out of here. Can’t we all keep our private lives to ourselves?
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I slip it out and swipe it open.
Rose: Are professional burglars quiet?
Rose: Probably, right?
An odd question, but I thumb in my response.
Reed: Seems like a job requirement
Rose: Yeah. I bet you’re right
I stare at my phone, waiting for that bubble to pop up indicating she’s typing out more information. It doesn’t come. I listen to Lucy regret asking Nathan anything about the fire station as they banter back and forth for a full minute. Two.
My patience fractures.
Reed: Why?
Rose: I keep hearing noises at the back door
Rose: It’s probably just the wind, though
Rose: Nobody would try to get in when I’m here
Rose: Right?
Rose: It’s fine
I jump to my feet. All three of my siblings stop talking and stare up at me. I’m across the room and pulling open the door before they can manage to ask me anything.
“I have to go.”