“Look,” I say. “I’m down for anything. But you should know that I meant cooking lessons.” And I can’t help smiling, even if my face is turning red.
“Oh!” He throws his head back and laughs. “Of course. I’m sorry. You should have spoken up sooner. I’ve just been—”
“Super busy working extra shifts. I know.”
“Yeah, but I made a promise. Tomorrow night? Unless you’ve got chores?”
“I’ll get out of it,” I promise. Now that the cold weather is upon us, I don’t have to work as hard. My dad’s back is still a mess, but there isn’t as much farm work. “What do we need from the grocery store?”
He rubs his hands together. “I’m not sure yet. It will be a game-time decision. Let me handle the shopping.”
“Sure.” I pull twenty bucks out of my wallet and hand it to him. “For my half. I’ll be home by six.”
“Great.” He puts the money away. “See you then.”
Roderick
I spend parts of the following morning daydreaming about cooking with Kieran.
Unfortunately, daydreaming is bad for business. Happy thoughts about a certain hot farmer distract me as I’m tallying up a catering order. And I end up undercharging the buyer.
So I do the only reasonable thing and put fifteen bucks of my own money in the till.
Ouch. That’s what I get for letting my mind wander to a man that I’ve already sworn off of once. You’d think I’d learn.
We’re going to be cooking tonight, damn it. Just cooking.
When the work day finally ends, I head to the grocery store. I buy all the ingredients to make a roast pork loin with ginger and lime, plus a mushroom risotto and green beans on the side.
I don’t buy the bottle of wine I was planning to pick up, because I spent that fifteen bucks already. Otherwise, my dinner plans are still on track. But after I load everything into the back of the Bug, things go wrong again. My engine starts up fine, but then abruptly cuts out when I shift into reverse. It just dies.
I should mention that I’m completely useless when it comes to cars. All I know how to do is put the key in and drive. Or call AAA. Which I do.
“Are you a member?” is the first question they ask.
“No, but maybe I should be.”
“I’ll need a credit card number.”
Yeah, I really should have seen that coming. “I don’t have a credit card, but I have a debit card. Or I can pay cash.” There’s a bank machine in view inside of the store. It’s the kind that charges an extra fee, but that’s the kind of day I’m having so I shouldn’t really be surprised.
“I can’t send out a tow truck without a credit card number.”
Of course you can’t. I hang up, because it’s either that or say something rude. I end the call and find the number for a local garage. But it’s now after five thirty, and they’re closed.
I’m ten miles from home, the temperature is dropping, and my pork loin and risotto need at least an hour’s worth of attention. What to do?
Out of ideas, I call Kieran to ask if he knows a mechanic.
“Sure,” he says, his rumbly voice soft in my ear. “What’s the problem?”
“I dunno,” I mumble. “Maybe I need a jump or something. What’s his number? Still hoping to cook this dinner.”
“Where are you?”
“In Montpelier, unfortunately.”
“Where in Montpelier?”
“Outside the Shaw’s.”
“Leaving now. It’ll take me twenty minutes to get there.”
“You don’t have to…”
Click.
Hmm.
I go back inside the store and make a small ATM withdrawal. Then I buy the bottle of wine I skipped the first time, as a thank you for Kieran.
He rolls up in his truck and stops beside my car. He hops out and smiles at me. “Want a jump? I have cables.”
“Sure. I hope that’s it, though.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Kieran frowns after I explain the sequence of events. “It just cut out? How long was the engine running before you shifted into reverse?”
“Uh, sixty seconds? Maybe longer. I was checking my phone for emails.”
“Doesn’t sound like the battery,” he says. “Sounds like a belt.”
“Oh.” I think about that for a minute. “A belt is just a piece of rubber, right? I hope it’s cheaper than a dead battery.”
He winces. “Depends. Let’s try a jump just in case.”
I’m not exactly stunned when it doesn’t work.
Kieran ends up calling his friend Jude, who sends a tow truck. By the time we’re rolling toward Colebury in Kieran’s truck, it’s after seven.
“Dinner is going to be late,” I grumble. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s no big thing,” he says, switching on the radio.
“Except I’m starving. Aren’t you?” I hate my life right now.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Will the ingredients keep until tomorrow? We could just grab a pizza instead.”
“I guess?” They’ll totally keep, but I just spent all my cash. “I’d need to hit the bank again.”
“I got money,” Kieran says. “Here.” He unlocks his phone and hands it over. “The place is listed in my contacts under Pizza. Because I’m subtle like that. Order a large. Half with sausage and olives, half with whatever you like.”
I hesitate a second.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like pizza?” Kieran says.
“I do,” I say quickly. “I just don’t want to be like your brother—always taking advantage of you.”
“It’s a pizza. Jesus. And it was my idea. Order, okay?”
So I do. I get the whole thing with the toppings he suggested, in case there are leftovers. After I hang up, he turns up the dashboard radio. And wouldn’t you know? Kieran listens to country music. The sounds of Nashville hum through the truck, and for the first few minutes it doesn’t bother me that much. We hear a Darius Rucker tune, and then a crossover song by Delilah Spark. Inevitably, a Brian Aimsley song comes on. It’s his new one, “So Happy I’m Yours.”
I grit my teeth through the first verse, and I’m suddenly aware of an uncomfortable truth—I’ve never wondered if a Brian Aimsley love song was secretly about me. Songwriters collaborate like crazy, and Brian rarely wrote a song by himself.
But as I listen to him singing about the way his heart lifts when he sees that special someone’s smile, it occurs to me to realize I should have expected for more. I mean—I would never demand he sing about me in an obvious way. But why shouldn’t he have wanted to?
He never did, though, and I never asked why. And although I’d sometimes demanded more of Brian’s time, I’d never demanded more of his heart.
I’d sold myself short from the start. Brian was a first-class dick, yeah, but putting up with it was on me.
“Can we shut this off?” I blurt out.
“Sure.” Kieran smacks the power button and the radio falls silent. “Sorry.”