“It’s so nice that it’s been passed down from generation to generation.” Pain pricks at my heart, the way it does every time I think about my family’s orchard, which I’m pretty sure my mother sold from her phone on the way home from my grandmother’s funeral. “It doesn’t always work out that way.”
She sniffs, but when I look over, her focus is on the wool and needles in her hands, so I can’t quite read her expression. “That hasn’t exactly been the case. About fifteen years ago now, Eugene was on the road to retirement. Our son and daughter-in-law were planning to take over. But when they were taken from us, Eugene had to work the farm all by himself until the boys got old enough to help, and we had five extra mouths to feed.”
“That must’ve been hard,” I say softly.
Ethel’s hands idle, her gaze fixed on a photo next to me.
“That picture right next to you? That’s Jim and Sandy with all five of their children a couple years before the accident. They were such good parents.”
I find Samuel right away, even though he can’t be more than ten years old. He and Colleen are right next to each other, like they’re joined at the hip.
“Those poor babies,” Ethel says, her voice thick with emotion. “Their parents passed away when they were only half-grown. Their grandfather and I did our best to finish the job, but I don’t think we quite measured up.”
“You’ve had a lot of loss.”
She nods once, but her expression remains stoic. “We have. I still can’t believe I’m a widow, and I miss my son and his wife every day, but I loved raising my grandkids. And I’m so proud of each and every one of them. Still, it’s been nice to have a full house again. In fact, you know you’re welcome to stay here again, as long as you need to. We have room. Jane and Hetty are sharing the attic.”
As she says this, something clicks. Maybe that’s what Sam was concerned about. Maybe he thinks I lied to his grandmother about needing a place to stay. The last thing I want is to take advantage of her generosity. I’m not going to confess everything about my situation, but I need to make sure she knows I’m not destitute or anything.
Sitting next to her, I say, “Ethel, when I said I was living out of my car, did you think I was homeless? Because I’m not.”
Ethel pats my hand. “There’s no shame in homelessness, dear. Though I think they call it unhoused these days. Or is it home free? No, that sounds like something else. I’m learning so much on the YouTube and the TikTok, but there’s always more to keep up with.”
Since she didn’t really answer my question, I press further. “I just want to be clear. I can afford to rent an apartment. It just seemed wasteful to keep one up when I’m on the road all the time.”
She tips her head to the side and studies me for a moment. “That may be true, but you do seem to need a home. And I’ve got one to share.”
After getting up and looking out in the hall, she closes the door and returns to the sofa. “I’ll tell you a secret. I was quite lonely this winter. Colleen was kind enough to move in with me after my husband died, but she has her own life to lead, as she should. Meanwhile, Ethan and Alex weren’t speaking to each other, and Sam and Jackson were gone. I don’t know if I’ll ever have all my kids home again, but I like having a full house. Besides”—the sly smile that matches Colleen’s reappears—“I think we have a lot to learn from each other, you and I.”
CHAPTER 11SAM
Gran is punishing me.
I didn’t say yes to a place to stay the first time she offered, so she gave my room away. To Diane of all people. Who, despite what my sister says, still hates me. And my grandmother is definitely on Team Diane, because she won’t give me her phone number so I can try to apologize again.
Now, two nights later, I’m kicking myself, but I can’t figure any way out of the mess I’ve created. Rentals in Greene County that allow pets are harder to come by than I expected, at least on my budget. If I were still working at Congento, I could buy a place. But I’d also be living in Connecticut and making the world a worse place.
The first night, I tried sleeping on Ethan’s couch. It was surprisingly comfortable, but hearing my brother and his girlfriend have sex was, unsurprisingly, uncomfortable.
I really didn’t need to know that my big brother whoops like a cowboy when he climaxes.
I could’ve gone my whole life without that knowledge.
The next night from the bed in Alex’s guest room, I unwillingly learned that Alex, despite being the most taciturn of my siblings, does not shut up during sex. All kinds of dirty words come out of that boy’s mouth. Feeling like Goldilocks in a porn movie, I didn’t fall asleep until the wee hours. And then Gomer and Alex’s dog, Trixie, decided it was playtime the second dawn broke.
All that’s to say, I can’t stop yawning when I pick up Carlos for yet another ride along.
“What? I’m that boring?” he asks.
“Sorry, man,” I say over another yawn. “I’m not getting any sleep. I really need my own fucking place.”
After handing over the address to the farm we’re visiting first, he tells me that his cousin has a garage apartment coming available in a couple weeks. “Can you hold out that long?”
I blink, my eyes bleary. “Maybe. If I start mainlining coffee.”
“Careful there, son. We’ve got a lot of addiction issues in the county.”
Not sure if he’s serious or not, I tell him I’ll take the place. I don’t care what it looks like. Maybe some earplugs will get me through the next two weeks.
At the end of the day, I’m so tired I figure I could sleep anywhere, but when Carlos asks if I’m going to Trivia at Tiddy’s, my ears pick up.
“Trivia?” When Diane, aka Cortland1898, blocked me on Trivia Crush, I lost my taste for the app. “I didn’t know Tiddy’s Bar had trivia. When I was growing up, that place was a dump.”
“I’d say it’s graduated from dump to greasy spoon. Trivia started up this spring. Latonya’s nephew Markus does it. He’s pretty funny; calls himself MT Bottles.”
“They have food?”
“They make a decent burger. Excellent onion rings.”
My stomach growls at the idea. “Maybe I will.”
“See you in a few, then,” Carlos says.
I stop by the Quick Lick on my way back to Alex’s. In addition to a farm, the Quick family has owned the place since it was the kind of general store that everyone visited on a daily basis. As I walk in, I notice that it’s had an upgrade too, but the offerings are pretty random. kind of like a hybrid crossing of a Circle K, a Duane Reade, and a deli.
When I ask Ginny Quick, a high school classmate who seems to run the family business these days, if they carry earplugs, she shakes her head. “I could order you some,” she says with a feral smile. The only smile she employs, at least in my experience. “Get here in a couple days.”
