Falling Away (26 page)

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Authors: Devon Ashley

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Falling Away
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I found myself having to drive the truck to Evan’s a lot. I guess the end of winter and the beginning of spring made a few people stray from their spouse’s bed, ‘cause Evan and his father had a lot of requests to follow people suspected of adultery. So I guessed the cat was probably out of the bag that I was staying in Evan’s room a lot, which meant we couldn’t push off dinner anymore.

             
The second Sunday in April, Evan pulled me through the back door of the house, through the mudroom and out into the breakfast room. The kitchen was off to the left, and my senses were assaulted with so many flavors I was practically salivating right there.

             
“Oh, my God, that smells good,” I said privately to Evan, eyeing the crock pot.

             
“Yeah, my mom is an awesome cook.”

             
The kitchen was painted a buttery yellow with green and dark red country accents that mostly involved chicken wire and roosters, which I found completely odd for someone up north, but loved nonetheless. Their living room off to the right was in shades of blue and looked really comfortable, the complete opposite of how I always felt in Robert’s parents’ home, which was so pristine and immaculate you’d think it was a museum display or something.

             
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Evan’s mom cheered, coming through the door on the opposite end of the kitchen, which I could see had a formal dining table in it. She wore an apron that wrapped around her neck and tied behind that fell almost to her knees, covering up what was probably her Sunday church dress. I kinda felt a little underdressed at that moment, with me in a cable knit sweater and slim fitted jeans. I would’ve given Evan a hard time for it, but he was dressed as casually as I was.

             
“Jenna! I’ve finally convinced my son to share you a little with the family.” She leaned in next to my ear, but hardly whispered when she said, “I’m afraid he thinks I’ll scare you off.”

             
A small roll of laughter came out of me as Evan rolled his eyes.

             
“Mom…” Evan whined. “I do not. Jenna only gets one day a week off and she’s usually running her errands then.” Well, sorta. Truthfully, Evan drives me and we generally got those done pretty quickly, leaving ample time to spend the afternoon cuddled up in one another’s arms.

             
She ignored him and asked me, “Jenna, could I get your help in the kitchen for a bit?
Maddy
is at a friend’s house and won’t be home for another hour.”

             
“Oh.” That’s all I could seem to say. Cooking? Me?

             
“Mom…”

             
“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I could try to help, but honestly, I don’t know anything about cooking that doesn’t involve microwaving
mac
and cheese and instant potatoes.”

             
I ignored Evan’s laughter but found it funny when his mother lightly smacked the back of his head. “Get out of my kitchen and go watch
sports
with your father.”

             
He looked to me for approval, not wanting to leave me behind if I was gonna kill him for it later. It must’ve been a really good game if he was considering leaving me with his mother alone, since he’d been fighting this dinner for so long. “You heard your mother.”

             
Amused, he kissed me on the cheek and disappeared into the next room, where his father offered me a quick wave from the recliner. “Uh, what would you like me to do, Mrs.
Gilden
?”

             
“Oh, stop. You’re old enough to call me Marie. And Mrs.
Gilden
makes me feel my age.”

             
I chuckled as I wrapped the red and white checkered apron around my waist that she had passed my way. “Alright, Marie. Something I can’t screw up, please.”

             
“Well, you can skin and cube the potatoes for me. And afterwards I’ll let you boil and mash them too.” She carried a bag of potatoes from the pantry to the counter beside the sink and grabbed the peeler from a drawer. Quietly beside me, she added, “Then maybe you can skip the instant from now on.”

             
“Just promise you’ll check behind me every step, ‘cause I tend to set off smoke alarms every time I try to cook something.” I grabbed my first potato and began skinning. I wasn’t very good at it and it took awhile to
find my groove. I also managed to cut a sliver of my skin, but refused to publicize my idiocy and just winced in silence.

             
I chit-chatted with Marie over the course of an hour. Evan had filled her in on my lack of parents growing up, but the way she worded all her questions seemed heartfelt, so it didn’t make me uncomfortable discussing it for once. She also took the time to walk me through cooking the mashed potatoes and didn’t make me feel silly for asking questions, like how she knew how much milk to add, since she had me pour without measuring. Evan made several unnecessary trips to the kitchen to check up on me, and I loved him for it.

             
Maddy
, or Madeline, came home just in time to set the table. She was nine and so
freakin
’ cute with her long brown hair braided down the back, and warm brown eyes that matched her mother’s. She watched me all through dinner with tiny smiles here and there, seemingly shy. Mr.
Gilden
was mostly quiet too, letting Marie, Evan and I carry on the conversation, and only spoke when discussing the work he and Evan shared.

             
My mashed potatoes were a big hit. Okay, they were hard to mess up when you knew how to make them, but if I was asked to make those a week ago without Marie’s guidance, trust me, I totally would’ve found a way to screw them up. And they hardly compared to how delicious the Salisbury steak was that she made, but I wasn’t gonna let that ruin my jovial mood over finally cooking something from scratch without destroying it.

             
“You know, Jenna,” Marie mentioned as she,
Maddy
and I were clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen, “if you’d like to learn to cook a few things, you’re welcome to come over and help me prepare the Sunday meals.”

             
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

             
She waved me off, skimming the skin of my arm with the kitchen towel she swung, and I could just hear the
pish
-posh
going off in her head. “Of course not. If you’d like to learn, I’ll happily teach you what I can.”

             
“Well, thank you. I’ll probably take you up on that.” Evan silently laughed to himself, clearly in on a joke I didn’t get until we left a few minutes later. “Alright, what? What am I missing?”

             
“It’s nothing. But she just managed to get you to agree to come by every weekend from now on. She’s very subtle at getting her way.”

             
“What do you mean, her way?”

             
“It’s so cute how naïve you are about my mom. I’m not saying it’s anything bad, but she’s been bugging me forever to get you over there, and she knew I’d make her wait a long time before I agreed to it again, so she slipped in a way to get you there without involving me.”

             
I kissed him on the cheek. “It’s not the end of the world,
ya
’ know. Unless
you’re
just looking to avoid going, and if you are, I won’t mind staying home with you.”

             
He opened the door to his room and locked it behind us. “No, I’m fine with it if you are.”

             
Good. ‘Cause it was nice to hang out with a group that actually seemed to have a positive family dynamic, and didn’t require drinking themselves to death just to put up with one another.

             
Through the month of April, I took Marie up on her offer. Each weekend she taught me something new, and I learned how to successfully make a sweet potato casserole, grilled mixed vegetables, herb-rubbed oven-roasted potatoes, beef stew, and Italian meatballs. And I did a little happy dance, ‘cause they all ended up not only edible, but delicious. Who knew with a little guidance, I could actually make these things? And I suddenly found myself perusing the cooking section at the bookstore, eyeing a few cookbooks I wouldn’t mind getting once I had a place with a kitchen meant for cooking.

             
In May, I received my first cookbook, which Marie gave me for my birthday, and said it was perfect for a beginner. I took her word for it and was pleased to see it was one I’d already been eyeing. Evan, however, took me to
BoJoe’s
that Friday night to get us a few drinks, then surprised me Saturday morning by driving me out of town for the rest of the weekend to a bed and breakfast on the coast of Maine. He had even secretly worked it out with my boss ahead of time to give me the day off. My favorite part of the trip was the picnic we had on the beach beside the lighthouse, where we seemed to be only ones for miles.

             
Coming back to that shoebox of a room afterwards was a disappointment. Not to mention the lack of sand I’d always wanted since I was a little orphan girl getting shuffled from one hell hole to the next. But, oh well. Back to normal. One day I’d get that beach on a permanent basis.

             
The week after my birthday I had to take that really long bus ride to Philadelphia for Sophie’s bridal shower. I couldn’t believe how quickly the months flew by. After breaking up with Robert, I thought that time would feel suffocating and neverending, but when Evan slowly invaded my life, the complete opposite became true. Sophie’s wedding was now just six weeks away.

             
At the shower, I officially met Dana, Sophie’s cousin, who had basically taken on all of my responsibilities, and I couldn’t thank her enough for doing so. The shower was held at some posh tea room, and was gorgeously decorated with pale pink peonies, light silver linens, and some of the prettiest crystal and
china dishes I had ever seen. I also met Annette,
Jhett’s
mother, and got to catch up with Sophie’s mom, who still to that day took an active interest in every detail of my life, just like she did with Sophie. She was the closest thing I had to a mom and I loved that she asked me to just start calling her Mom, too. (I think she just realized her only baby was getting married, and needed another daughter to take on, but I didn’t mind). I just hoped my current situation didn’t secretly disappoint her, ‘cause I knew how much she wanted me back in school so I could finish my degree.

             
Sophie was a little
tiffed
that I didn’t take off the entire weekend so we could have an extra day together, but I had already done that with Evan, and just couldn’t afford to do it more than once a month. Sadly, my job wasn’t helping me save too much money, and I was actively applying for scholarships again to see if I would even be able to afford Rutgers next fall.

             
June came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face as suddenly as the warm weather did. But at least we got to spend most of our time outdoors now. We’d already seen two of the movies in the park,
The Wizard of OZ
and
The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe
, and when Evan pulled me towards the woods afterward with a wink and a lopsided grin, I knew exactly where he was taking me. The hike was a hell of a lot longer in reality than dreamland, but stargazing from our spot in the middle of the nowhere was well worth the blisters I got on the back of my heels.

             
This Sunday, we
laid
out in the park absorbing every single ray of sun the thin cloud coverage would allow, and we weren’t the only ones that had that idea, as you couldn’t go ten feet without coming across someone else doing the exact same thing.

             
I pitched another M&M at Evan, but it hit his forehead. “Ouch!” he playfully cried, then tossed the stray morsel into his mouth. His aim was a hell of a lot better than mine, and his toss hit within an inch of my mouth. Unfortunately, that didn’t help with my lack of eye-M&M coordination, and it bounced off my cheek and onto the blanket.

             
I watched as yet another couple strolled by hand in hand, happily in love and lost in their own world, searching for their own spot in the lush grass. The park was filled with them today. I looked at my own boyfriend, who looked all sexy resting on his side, already back to reading his novel, and I lightly nudged my foot against his arm.

             

Mmm
-hmm?” he murmured.

             
“So why do you think our relationship works?” His eyes rolled my way and made this
what the fuck?
expression. “I’m serious,” I said, tapping him again. “We have nothing in common, so why the hell do we get along so well?”

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