Page 51 of Forked (Frenched 2)
“Yeah.” I shook my head, as if I could rid it of such insanity. I didn’t want his kids…did I? “What the hell is that?”
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Nick pulled on a clean shirt from his bag and I discreetly traded my damp panties for a new pair before we left. On the short drive to the farm, we listened to the radio instead of talking to each other, and even though I was addled, I found myself humming along to a scratchy old Ella Fitzgerald tune. Everything about this day was telling me to relax and enjoy life, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that things weren’t as perfect as they seemed. Was I just paranoid?
We turned off the road onto the winding drive leading to the big old white farmhouse. I hadn’t been here in years, but little details about the place had memories swarming my mind like honeybees—the tire swing hanging from a huge old maple tree, the long front porch with its Adirondack chairs in need of a fresh coat of paint, the second floor window of the room I used to stay in, not far from the window of the room Nick used to sneak out of and come visit me in the night. My room had the creakiest bed on the planet. Nick said Noni couldn’t hear a thing so we should just do it anyway, but I never could bring myself to have sex on that bed. (We did it on the floor instead.)
Beyond the house were barns and other outbuildings, and beyond those stretched fields of corn and the orchards. Somewhere
out there was a small lake we used to swim in after a run. I wondered if Nick felt like running this afternoon—after the way I’d been eating, I sure could use one. Nick put the top up, and I latched the lever on my side before getting out.
“How about a run this afternoon?” I asked as we pulled our bags from the trunk.
“Did you bring your running stuff?” He looked at me, surprised, before leaning into the backseat to retrieve the cooler.
“Yeah, and my bathing suit. I remembered how we used to run here and then swim afterward. That was a lot of fun.”
“It was.” He shut the trunk. “I have my running stuff too. Let’s say hi to Noni and then we’ll go. Although,” he added as we walked up the steps to the porch, “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” He moved ahead of me to open the screen door and grinned over his shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to swim naked.”
“Swim naked! Who’s that?”
I smiled at hearing Noni’s voice again for the first time in years.
“Fuck, her new hearing aid. I forgot,” Nick whispered as we stepped into the entrance hall. Time flowed backward as I breathed in the fresh-baked-pie meets dusty-antique-furniture smell of Noni’s house and heard the squeak and slap of the wooden screen door closing behind me. I was nineteen again. Young, bursting with feelings for Nick, up for anything.
And fearless. Utterly fearless.
To the left of the stairs in front of us was the dining room, and to the right was the room Noni called her parlor. She sat in a rocker near the front window, a book on her lap.
“Hi, Noni. I brought you a birthday present.
Remember Coco?”
She winked at me. “Coco? The lesbian girlfriend?”
“That’s the one. Although she’s not quite as lesbian as I’d like her to be. At least occasionally.”
I slapped Nick on the shoulder. “Nick, for heaven’s sake. Happy Birthday, Noni. I hope it’s all right that Nick invited me along. I’ve missed visiting here.”
Noni reached out one hand. “Give me a hand standing up, will you, honey?” I took her hand and helped her to her feet before kissing her on the cheek. Except for a bit less silver hair on her head, she looked exactly the same. Little old lady glasses. Sky blue tracksuit with orthopedic shoes. Slightly hunched posture, which made her seem even shorter than she was. “Look at you, just as pretty as you were years ago. How did this no-good bum get you back?”
“I haven’t yet, Noni. You have to help me. This is all part of my scheme to win back her affections.” Nick put the cooler down and kissed his grandmother’s cheek while I shot him a dirty look. He was enlisting Noni in this effort? No fair.
“Oh, she’s too smart for schemes, honey.” Noni squeezed my hand and held my gaze. “You’ll have to make an honest effort. She’s no fool.” Then, in a move that reminded me of Sitty, she slid her keen eyes over to him. “Capisce?”
Nick nodded, and they exchanged a look that made me wonder what his grandmother knew.
“Are you kids hungry? I got some ham. Come on, let me fix you a plate.” She moved between us, walking slowly with a slight limp. Nick and I exchanged a secret smile at her familiar desire to feed every mouth that walked through her door within five minutes, and my heart ka-whumped unexpectedly.
“No thanks, Noni. We just ate. How’s your new hip these days?” Nick picked up the cooler and followed her from the room, dropping his bag near the stairs. I did the same, glancing briefly up the stairs and wondering if Nick expected us to share a bedroom here.
“Oh, fine.” She thumped her hip twice as she walked through the dining room. “Practically good as new.” Pushing open an old swinging door, she shuffled into the spacious farmhouse kitchen. It had probably been remodeled several times in the last hundred years, but I doubted much had changed in the last twenty-five. Even though I was full, my mouth watered at the sight of two pies on the counter, one lattice-topped and one with tiny teardrop shapes cut into its golden crust.
“I brought a cake, Noni. Do you want it in the fridge?” Nick set the cooler on the old round table for eight and opened it up. Carefully he lifted the cake plate from it and set it on the counter.
“There is fine.” Noni opened a low cupboard and pulled out a blue plastic cake plate cover, which had cracked in several places and was held together by brown tape. As she placed it over the cake, Nick and I looked at each other and shook our heads. Noni never threw anything away with a day’s use left in it.
“Now I know what to buy you for a present,” Nick said. “A new cake plate cover.”
