Shelf Life (12 page)

chapter twenty-one

I
’m not sure my parents knew what they were getting into when they said I had to bring project partners home. They certainly weren’t planning on welcoming a six-foot-four, tattooed black man with a gold tooth. They’re not racist, I just don’t think they’ve ever seen someone like Evan before. Neither had I before this semester.

“Goodness,” Mom says when Evan ducks into our kitchen.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wilson,” he says, grinning from ear-to-ear, no doubt to blind her with the brilliance of his tooth. I’ve noticed he does that to all the ladies.

“Likewise,” she says, sticking out her hand. “Are you hungry? I made cherry pie.”

“
Mom
.”

“Hey, if the lady cooked for us, let her do her
thang.”

“Thank you, Evan. Would you like whipped cream on it?”

“Yes, please.”

“Pete?”

“Yeah.”

We unload our books and notes on the kitchen table, right where Dad said I had to study until further notice.

“Your mom seems nice,” Evan whispers.

“Most of the time.”

“She know what our project is a—” He’s cut off when Mom turns on her stand mixer. “What she doing? Thought we were having pie.”

“We are. She’s making whipped cream.”

He mouths, “Making whipped cream?”

“Yeah, heavy cream plus whipping equals whipped cream.”

“Oh. I only seen it in a can. You were serious about you guys making your food.”

I smile. “The cream came from the cows out back. I’ll introduce you to the girls later.”

“Girls?” After being at a disadvantage on campus in Evan’s world, I’m enjoying bringing him into my home turf.

“Here you go, gentlemen.” Mom sets down two giant pieces of pie oozing with cherries we grew in our orchard and Mom preserved right on this very table. The crust is perfectly browned and flaky, and the whipped cream stands in tall peaks on each piece. “Dig in.”

“Holla!” Evan says, before shoving a forkful into this face. I quickly follow suit. The filling is still warm and the crust is buttery perfection. If the government ever outlaws the use of shortening, I don’t want to live.

Evan wipes his mouth and holds up his hands. “Mrs. Wilson, at the risk of my granny flipping over in her grave, I got to tell you that’s the best pie I ever had, and I thank you.”

Mom giggles and it makes me glad. She hasn’t done much of that since dinner with Lindsey. “Would you like another piece?”

“Yes, ma’am, but just a small one or I’m liable to
fall sleep and not get none of this project done.”

“We can’t have that.
Pete, another?”

“No, thanks.
I’ll get more later.”

“Might not be a later. Once your dad and Sarah see it, I can’t make any promises.”

“That’s okay.”

Evan leans close. “Do I get to meet your sister today?” If it weren’t for the wink he throws in at the end, I might get upset, but I can’t blame him. I’d want to meet someone with Sarah’s reputation, too. Ava might even be worse.

Evan and I spend over an hour outlining the parameters of our project, which will include a number of fecal samples. We manage to be mature about it until it’s time to take Evan out to the barn to meet the girls.

“Evan, this is Katie, Scarlett and—hmm, Ashley’s not here yet.”

“She have a date?”

“Ha, no, but they know when it’s time to be milked. Every day they wander in at the same time.”

Evan nods and looks around.

“
Wanna help?”

Sheer panic crosses his face. I can’t hold in my laugh.

“You laugh, Farm Boy, but I didn’t laugh at you when you came to Ward Hall looking like a deer in headlights.”

“That’s true. Sorry, man.”

“In your defense, there ain’t udders or teats or cow pies on campus.”

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

I walk him through the process, and although he gives it a good effort, Evan’s no farmer. While I finish with Ashley, who finally moseys in, Evan wanders around the barn inspecting equipment and gazing out over the yard. He nods to the hayloft.

“You spend much time up there?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. We mow hay three times in the fall and guess who gets to stack it all?”

“That all?
No sneaking off with a special girl for some private time?”

“Well, yeah, but not like you’re thinking. I used to go up there with my best friends when we were younger. Sometimes I sit up there to think.”

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks. Still think we’re freaks?”

“No, not really, and anyone who can cook like your mom is okay in my book.”

“You haven’t met my dad yet.”

“Should I be worried?”

“That you’ll die of boredom, yeah.
The man doesn’t have conversations. He gives lectures.”

“No wonder you’re such a good college student, then.
You been listening to lectures all your life.”

I snort.
“Pretty much.”

Evan helps me strain the fresh milk and take it into the kitchen for Mom. After I explain what she’s going to do with it, we head back out to collect material for our slides. And by material, I mean cow shit.

“Been meaning to ask you, what’s up with that football player we ran into this week?”

I’d hoped to avoid this topic. “I should ask you the same thing. How do you know him?”

“Told you, seen him around,” Evan says.

“Around where?”

He pretends to concentrate on rearranging the slides in his hands. “Around campus this summer.”

“That all?”

“Pretty much,” he says.

“There must be more if you remember him.”

“He, uh, was real tight with one of our acquaintances.”

“Evan, besides you, I don’t really have any—oh.” Ava.
Of course. “You saying I got his sloppy seconds?”

He bursts out laughing. “Knowing her, you got sloppy forties or fifties.”

No denying it, that girl is a siren. Probably a few other choice things, but who am I to judge? I blush recalling some of the things I did with her. Pretty sure I wiped all memories of Jay Leaher out of her pretty little head.

Evan interrupts my thoughts. “You
gonna tell me what that watching thing was all about?”

Groaning, I ask, “Do I have to?”

“Gotta be honest, Farm Boy, my imagination’s gettin’ pretty wild, so unless you want me to think the worst, you best spill.”

“Here’s the short version. Jay lives over there. We’ve known each other our whole lives and hated each other just as long. Don’t know why. It started in preschool when he hit me on the playground and stole my apple. Our parents went to school together and I think that has something to do with it. Not sure. Anyway, Jay used me as a punching bag in high school, but I thought I’d get away from him in college. Guess that’s not the case.

“Last week Mom asked me to go get my sister from the orchard, and when I found her, she was underneath Jay, who had his hand down her pants. I was so shocked I couldn’t move for a minute. That’s what he means by watching. Once my brain kicked on again, I ran as fast as I could in the other direction. Believe me, that wasn’t something I wanted to see.”

“Wow, that…that sucks balls.”

“Yes is does, my friend.”

“Any idea why she’s hanging out with Jay or why he hates you and not her?”

“Nope. Don’t care, either.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay, I do, but I try not to let it get to me. Once I’m out of here, none of it will matter.”

“It all matters, Farm Boy. Everything happens for a reason. Trouble is figuring out the reason.”

“The reason is my sister is stupid and puts out.”

“
Mmmm-hmmm. I definitely need to meet her.”

I throw a cow pie at his head.

***

After dinner and a long lecture from my dad on affirmative action, I walk Evan out to his car.

“Sufficiently bored?”

“Not really. That wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.”

“No? Let me show you something.” I’ll probably get reamed for it, but I lead Evan back to the bunker hidden in the woods. “You know any other families that have one of these?”

“You got a secret cave?”

“Come inside.”

“This where you pull out a knife and murder the
naive city boy?”

“What? No.” I laugh. “If I wanted to murder you, I’d have left you at the dinner table with my dad to rot in your chair while he talks.”

I reach in my pocket, pull out a lighter and flick it on.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah, whoa.”

“What am I looking at?”

“You’re looking at the Wilson family bunker and storage cellar. Dad claims it’s not a bug-out shelter, but you could fool me.”

“
A
what
shelter?”

“Bug-out.
In case there’s an emergency, we have another location we can retreat to until the threat is over. My parents cashed in their savings to have this built. Crazy, right?”

“Crazy, but cool.
Makes sense if you think something bad could happen around here.”

I step back and let Evan explore. His eyes roam over the wooden shelves built into each side of the room. He runs his fingers over the glass jars, mouthing the words on the labels.

“You grew all this, didn’t you?”

“Every bit of it.
Over here—” I lay my hand on a shelf “—is the rest of last year’s provisions. It was pretty mild so we had a lot. Over here is where we’ll store this year’s harvest. You can see my mom already put up some strawberries.”

“These bins?”

“Mouse and insect-proof storage for apples, onions and potatoes.”

“This?” He points to a metal cabinet fixed into the
wall.

“Open it.”

He casts me a doubtful look. He slowly unhooks the latch and cracks it open. “Gas masks? You serious?”

“Told you.”

“Okay, I’ll admit, that’s freaky. And this cabinet?” He points to another further back.

“Can’t tell you.”

“Top secret?”

“Dangerous and not part of this tour.
My dad would really have a fit. Plus, I don’t have the key.” Evan’s standing in front of my dad’s pride and joy—his custom-built gun vault that houses one Glock, a Baretta, his newest Kimber and three automatic carbines. Together, they’re worth a small fortune.

“I see,” he says. “Well, thanks for the tour. You’re not completely crazy, mostly ’cause I got slides of cow shit in my car and it was my idea.”

We both chuckle. “True. I’ll walk you back.” After I lock up behind us, we trudge back to the house. We’re coming out of the pasture when a shadow crosses in front of us.

“Who is this?”

“Your manners never cease to amaze me, Sarah. Evan, meet my little sister. She was born in a barn.”

“Shut up, I was not.”

“Then stop it.”

“Whatever. What were you doing back there?” She eyes Evan up and down. I want to kick her for acting like white trash.

“Showing Evan the farm.”

“In the dark?”

“He helped milk the cows. What are you doing out here?”

“Mom sent me. Said you walked Evan to his car and never came back.”

“So she sent you. That’s hilarious. Maybe she was hoping you’d get attacked by coyotes.”

“Maybe she thought you’d been attacked by this guy.”

“
Sarah
!”

“What? Look at him.” She gestures toward Evan’s face, which I notice has broken out into another of his famous grins.

“You sayin’ I look bad-ass?”

She shakes her head. “Whatever. I’m out.”

She turns and runs to the house.

“Evan—”

“She’s charming.”

“Please tell me you’re being sarcastic.”

“I don’t know, there’s something to be said about complete honesty.”

“You know what? This day is even too crazy for me. I apologize for my sister’s behavior. See you in class next week?”

“Sure will. I’ll go organize these slides and get back to you. Thanks for the tour, and please give your mom my compliments on her pie.”

“Will do.
Drive safe.”

“Yep.
I’ll try not to hit any cows on my way back to civilization.”

I shake my head and climb the porch steps. Two things are clear: Evan’s got tough skin and my sister’s an idiot. I’d bet my balls she’s telling on me for showing Evan the bunker.