Chapter 21
Rebecca was in the kitchen, pulling mixing bowls out of a low cupboard, when something small clattered to the floor.
She crouched, brushing aside a curl of dust, and felt a small, unexpected jolt of recognition.
It was an enamel apple charm. Red, chipped at the edge, the loop bent slightly out of shape.
It had been Sabrina’s, a fourteenth birthday gift from Rebecca, and she had lost it, years ago.
The two friends had looked everywhere for it, before becoming convinced that it was gone for good.
Rebecca turned it over in her hand and felt a tug of longing.
She still hadn’t spoken with Sabrina after fleeing the Calloways’.
She didn’t feel ready to talk about why, but she also knew she didn’t want to go any longer with such a divide between herself and her best friend, not during the limited time she was here in Bramley Hollow.
She pulled on a navy-blue wool sweater and poked her head out of the kitchen door. “I’m going to run something over to Sabrina’s,” she said lightly. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Okay,” Cort said, not looking up. “I’ll still be here.”
Outside, the afternoon air was crisp but not too cool.
The wool sweater was the perfect layer. Rebecca walked quickly, the charm warm in her pocket.
When she arrived at the orchard, she didn’t have to look too far for Sabrina: She was walking out from a row of trees, a small basket of apples in her hands.
Her eyes lit up when she saw her friend, and Rebecca felt relieved.
Sabrina approached, holding out the basket.
“Here,” she said. “It’s a new kind of apple we’re growing this year.
We only have a few trees. It’s called…” She thought for a moment, then laughed.
“I actually can’t remember. Something melodramatic.
Autumn’s Ambrosial Glory? Fall Fantasy? I lose track.
” Rebecca took the proffered apple, which was the color of a sunset over Bramley Hollow: yellow, then pale peach, then a dusky pink.
“It’s supposed to be a cross between a Honeycrisp and a Granny Smith,” Sabrina said as Rebecca took a bite.
The apple had the texture of a Honeycrisp, with a delightful sour edge.
“I love it,” Rebecca said, mouth still full. Sabrina bit into one, too, and closed her eyes.
“I think this might be the perfect eating apple,” she said. “A candy treat, in apple form.”
“Speaking of apples…”
Rebecca reached into her pocket and held out the charm. “Look what I found, while cleaning out a cupboard.”
Sabrina gasped. “Oh my God, I’d almost forgotten all about this! I was so upset I lost it. You bought it for me yourself. All I need is a pair of pliers, and it’ll be good as new.”
“I should have asked Cort,” Rebecca said. “He could have fixed it in a heartbeat.”
Now Sabrina raised an eyebrow, but her expression was gentle.
“How are things going?” she said. Rebecca thought about playing dumb, pretending she didn’t know what her friend was really asking her, but she couldn’t do that.
She didn’t feel ready to tell Sabrina the reason she had fled the dinner party, but she didn’t want to keep her at arm’s length about everything.
“We talked,” she said. “At your house. About the dance, about the fact that I went and how hurt I was. It’s a conversation that feels like it’s not exactly finished, but it also feels like the start of repairing what happened. Of really being friends again.”
“Friends,” Sabrina repeated.
“Yes.” Rebecca kept her voice firm. “I’m not going to lie and say my heart doesn’t skip several beats a day, with him around the diner so much—but I believe I am, slowly but surely, becoming immune to the Cort Adams Effect.
” She took another bite of apple. “Don’t worry, okay? I’ve got everything under control.”
Sabrina’s expression was thoughtful, and Rebecca could see concern in her eyes.
She could tell her friend wanted to ask what exactly had been behind Rebecca’s desperate flight away from the Calloways’ dinner, but also that she didn’t want to press her to talk about something she wasn’t ready to discuss.
“You’ve got so much going on,” was all she said. “I appreciate you taking time out to come deliver this to me.”
“I’ve got a lot going on—how about you? This is the busiest time of year for you. I probably shouldn’t keep you.”
“Actually, you’ve saved me a trip. I know you really don’t cook much for yourself, and I’ve got an extra frozen chicken potpie, and some cinnamon buns, crowding my freezer. Can I please unload them on you? You’d be doing me a favor—I need the freezer space.”
Rebecca knew better than to argue with Sabrina when she was trying to give her food. They walked to her apartment to pick it up, and then Sabrina accompanied her friend to the top of the long driveway that led back to town. She squeezed Rebecca’s arm.
“Whenever you want to talk, about anything, I’m here. Okay?”
“I know that,” Rebecca said. “Really. I’m just…” But she couldn’t explain it, so she just juggled the food so she could give her friend a quick hug before heading back the way she had come, her arms laden, but her heart lighter.
—
“Mind if I keep going?” Cort asked her later as the sun sank low outside. “I don’t have Pip today and I’d love to get this wall closed up again before I go.”
“Fine with me,” Rebecca said, “but at least let me feed you. Sabrina gave me a potpie earlier today, and it’s too much for just me.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “But don’t go to too much trouble.”
When the pie was warm, Rebecca brought slices of it downstairs on plates, paired with a simple green salad.
Cort put his tools away for the day and came to stand at the counter.
“So, I was thinking about the floors,” he said.
“It might look better to replace all the boards, not just some of them. I have extras that match the ones I’m using in here, from a job I did a few months ago.
They’re sitting in my storage garage. What do you think about replacing the entire floor, sprucing the place up even more?
And before you hesitate, I can’t charge you for the boards.
They were going to go to waste. It won’t cost you extra. ”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Rebecca said.
“You’re not—you’re taking great care of me. Look, you’re even feeding me.” He lifted his fork, took a bite. “This is great,” he said, leaning against the counter as he took a second bite. “Almost exactly the way your grannie used to make it.” He winked, and Rebecca laughed.
“Only Sabrina’s cooking could come close.
Lenore was quite proud of her potpie recipe, do you remember?
I wouldn’t even attempt it. Too many steps.
But I managed to make her applesauce cake the other day—even though that’s just throwing a few ingredients together.
I don’t know how she always managed to make everything so delicious, day in, day out. ”
“Remember the turkey sandwich special she always had around Thanksgiving?”
“So good,” Rebecca agreed. “An entire turkey dinner on a ciabatta bun.”
“I swear, I almost liked it better than my dad’s famous Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings. But never tell him that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
He gave her another one of those searching looks. “How are you feeling about everything?” he asked.
“Better,” she said. “That trip to the lookout did clear my head. And I’m glad I went to see Sabrina—but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.
” She put down her fork. “And I can’t stop thinking about it, this urge to keep it bottled up inside me.
Grannie Lenore and I never talked about who my father might be.
But there was a reason for that: I always thought if I started pressing too hard about finding out who my father was, she might start to think she wasn’t enough for me. And I never wanted that.”
“It can’t have been easy for you, carrying that burden both of having lost your mother and knowing that your grandmother lost her child.
” He closed his granite-colored eyes for the briefest moment, but she saw the pain that had flashed across them.
She understood he was thinking about how it would feel to lose Pip.
“I couldn’t imagine,” he said softly, then opened his eyes and shook his head, as if to snap himself out of it.
“Lenore was protective of you, definitely. I remember the way she’d put a stop to it, if gossip in the diner ever turned to the topic of your mom. ”
“Sometimes I wonder if—and I’m not blaming her at all—but I wonder if she went too far in trying to protect me. There’s just so much I don’t know.”
“I think about that all the time, with Pip—how far is too far when it comes to trying to protect him from hurt. He gets teased a bit at school, for not being sporty, for being more into reading and art and drama, and the few times I’ve tried to step in, it’s almost always made things worse for him. ”
“And yet, it’s also good for a kid to know there’s an adult on their side.
Looking out for them. Protecting them. I know I always felt that way, with Lenore.
But she’s not here to protect me now, and I find myself still looking around for that buffer.
” She smiled but knew it was a sad smile.
“Growing up and leaving people behind is hard, isn’t it? ”
His smile in return was bittersweet, too. She paused. “Did you ever have someone like that in your life?”
“Do you remember my brother, Brae?”
“Of course. He was a senior when we started high school, right?”