cleared my throat.
“I’m just so glad you’re back with ush again, Abbey,” she said, turning her gaze to me. “I’m so glad you’re home. And not seeing a doctor. I really missed—”
“What I think your mother’s trying to say is that of course we’re proud of the girl you used to be, but we’re even prouder of the young woman you’re becoming. Hear, hear!”
Thank God Dad stepped in and cut her off. I was starting to sweat bullets.
“Hear, hear!” said Mom, raising her wine glass.
I raised mine, too, and downed what little was in there in one gulp. I noticed that Ben did the same thing.
“And now I’ll cut the cake,” Mom crowed.
Dad reached out and plucked the glass from her hand. “That’s okay, dear. Why don’t we let Abbey and Ben have some time together? I need your help with something in the… living room.”
Mom nodded and put one finger in front of her lips. “Shhh, it’s time for some alone time.” She giggled. “I understand.”
Giving us a not-so-subtle wink, she let Dad steer her out of the room.
Desperate for something else to take the attention off the situation, I grasped at the first thing that came to mind. “Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?” I asked Ben. “God, I could really use some fresh air right now.”
Ben nodded and put his goblet down. I did the same and turned to lead the way out. Then my stomach growled loudly.
“Why don’t you bring the cake?” Ben suggested. “We’ll eat some out there.”
I reached for the cake and picked it up. “Forks?”
“That’s what God made fingers for,” he replied.
The cake quivered in my hands, tiny blobs of lemon custard sliding around on the plate, and Ben held open the door. With a deep breath I took a step out into the muggy night air. And wondered if this night could get any worse.
Chapter Eight
M ORSE C ODE
Every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination… The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him…
—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
We sat down on the porch steps—Ben on the first one and me on the third. I placed the cake on the step between us and stared at it, watching its glistening sides in the pale glow of a dim bulb above us. Bugs fluttered and hovered around the light, their wings making oversized shadow puppets on the wall next to us.
I didn’t even know where to start, what to offer as an excuse for why Mom had said what she’d said, how to explain… So I just sat there, running my thumb and forefinger back and forth across my necklace.
What do I say? What’s he thinking?
I poked a finger at the cake and swiped off some stray custard.Maybe sugar would give me courage. Licking my fingertip, I sat back and prepared myself to come up with something clever. “Ben, I…”
“You don’t have to explain your parents, Abbey. Mine freak out all the time. I think it’s a side effect of getting old or something,” he said.
I laughed, and he smiled. “The really important thing here is where your finger’s been.”
“What?” I looked at him in confusion.
“You just swiped some icing,” Ben said. “I saw you. Do you know how many germs are on your hands?”
“But I thought you didn’t want to use a fork.”
He reached out and tore off a hunk of the cake. “I don’t. I just wanted the first piece.”
But then he graciously offered his prize to me, and I accepted. Grinning, he shoved a smaller bite into his mouth and started chewing. “That,” Ben said, sucking bits of frosting off his fingers, “is good cake.”
I bit into my piece. “We got it from this great little bakery over on DeWalt Street. They have the
best
desserts there.”
Ben scooped up another bite and offered me half. I had to scoot closer to take it from him. “So what did you do for your birthday last year?” he asked.
I sat there for a minute. Fireflies winked on and off in the grassy yard
“I’m just so glad you’re back with ush again, Abbey,” she said, turning her gaze to me. “I’m so glad you’re home. And not seeing a doctor. I really missed—”
“What I think your mother’s trying to say is that of course we’re proud of the girl you used to be, but we’re even prouder of the young woman you’re becoming. Hear, hear!”
Thank God Dad stepped in and cut her off. I was starting to sweat bullets.
“Hear, hear!” said Mom, raising her wine glass.
I raised mine, too, and downed what little was in there in one gulp. I noticed that Ben did the same thing.
“And now I’ll cut the cake,” Mom crowed.
Dad reached out and plucked the glass from her hand. “That’s okay, dear. Why don’t we let Abbey and Ben have some time together? I need your help with something in the… living room.”
Mom nodded and put one finger in front of her lips. “Shhh, it’s time for some alone time.” She giggled. “I understand.”
Giving us a not-so-subtle wink, she let Dad steer her out of the room.
Desperate for something else to take the attention off the situation, I grasped at the first thing that came to mind. “Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?” I asked Ben. “God, I could really use some fresh air right now.”
Ben nodded and put his goblet down. I did the same and turned to lead the way out. Then my stomach growled loudly.
“Why don’t you bring the cake?” Ben suggested. “We’ll eat some out there.”
I reached for the cake and picked it up. “Forks?”
“That’s what God made fingers for,” he replied.
The cake quivered in my hands, tiny blobs of lemon custard sliding around on the plate, and Ben held open the door. With a deep breath I took a step out into the muggy night air. And wondered if this night could get any worse.
Chapter Eight
M ORSE C ODE
Every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination… The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him…
—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
We sat down on the porch steps—Ben on the first one and me on the third. I placed the cake on the step between us and stared at it, watching its glistening sides in the pale glow of a dim bulb above us. Bugs fluttered and hovered around the light, their wings making oversized shadow puppets on the wall next to us.
I didn’t even know where to start, what to offer as an excuse for why Mom had said what she’d said, how to explain… So I just sat there, running my thumb and forefinger back and forth across my necklace.
What do I say? What’s he thinking?
I poked a finger at the cake and swiped off some stray custard.Maybe sugar would give me courage. Licking my fingertip, I sat back and prepared myself to come up with something clever. “Ben, I…”
“You don’t have to explain your parents, Abbey. Mine freak out all the time. I think it’s a side effect of getting old or something,” he said.
I laughed, and he smiled. “The really important thing here is where your finger’s been.”
“What?” I looked at him in confusion.
“You just swiped some icing,” Ben said. “I saw you. Do you know how many germs are on your hands?”
“But I thought you didn’t want to use a fork.”
He reached out and tore off a hunk of the cake. “I don’t. I just wanted the first piece.”
But then he graciously offered his prize to me, and I accepted. Grinning, he shoved a smaller bite into his mouth and started chewing. “That,” Ben said, sucking bits of frosting off his fingers, “is good cake.”
I bit into my piece. “We got it from this great little bakery over on DeWalt Street. They have the
best
desserts there.”
Ben scooped up another bite and offered me half. I had to scoot closer to take it from him. “So what did you do for your birthday last year?” he asked.
I sat there for a minute. Fireflies winked on and off in the grassy yard
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