Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) (32 page)

“You okay?” Zack asked, noticing my expression.

“Yeah, I was just admiring your home.”

“It’s a mess now. You should have seen it years ago.”

I knew what he meant. He meant I should have seen it before his mom died. I glanced over at Nathan. His face was sullen and drawn. My innocent comment had unintentionally stirred up sorrowful memories for him as well.

“Is there anything I can do? I’m used to chores,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood and feeling awful about depressing everyone.

“Can you cook?” Nathan asked hopefully.

“Nate, she’s not here to cook,” Zack snapped.

“I don’t mind, Zack. I want to help.” I gave him a reassuring smile and then turned to include his brother. “What did you have in mind, Nate?” I asked, trying to get the show on the road.

“Anything! My dad and brothers only know how to reheat stuff from a can. That’s all the cooking we do.”

As I walked into the kitchen to see what I had to work with, the truth in Nate’s comment was evident. In the corner of the kitchen was a large, once-white rectangular trashcan filled to the brim with empty cans. There were at least a dozen chili cans, and another eight to ten ravioli cans. Mixed in intermittently were some cans of previously enjoyed beef stew and clam chowder, now crusty and abandoned. I wondered if they recycled. Seriously, if they used this many cans all the time, they could have a fortune if they took them to a recycling center. That’s when the idea hit me.

“How much time do we have before your dad and brothers get home from work?” I asked with anticipation.

“Three or four hours, why?” Zack responded.

“Hey, Nate, do you guys have a lot more of these cans lying around?” I asked, excited by my idea.

“Yeah, there’s several bags out in the shed. We usually use them for target practice and then take the rest to the dump. Why? You want our trash?” He looked confused, like his brother had brought home a bag lady.

“Yeah, I do want them. Can you go get them?” I asked politely.

“All of them?”

“As many as you can find. Bottles and soda cans too,” I added, my excitement growing by the second. This was going to work! This was going to be great!

Nate left to search the shed for my bounty. Zack turned to me. “What exactly are you cooking up, Liz?” His voice was curious and doubtful.

“That’s just it, Zack. We need something to cook. Believe me, I looked, and there isn’t anything in this kitchen.”

“So you’re going to cook some old cans?” he asked sarcastically.

“No, of course not. But we need money to buy some food, right?”

I saw a light go off in Zack’s head. “You want us to take the cans to the recycling center.” Zack smiled.

“Yeah, I do. There must be at least sixty bucks here.”

Zack, Nathan, and I headed off to the local recycling center, conveniently located in the supermarket parking lot. I was right. Seventy-six dollars and eighty-three cents later, my idea was a success.

“Now let’s go shopping, shall we, boys?” I interlaced my arms through Nate and Zack’s in a very
Wizard of Oz
sort of way. With Nate on my left and Zack on my right, we merrily made our way to the market.

“Your girl’s pretty clever there, Zack,” Nate complimented.

“Yeah, she’s smart like that.” Zack leaned over and kissed me on my cheek appreciatively.

When we got back to the farmhouse, we quickly unloaded the groceries. The whole trip had taken more time than I had expected, leaving me with only an hour and forty-five minutes to cook. At the store they’d had whole chickens on sale. Knowing that I was feeding four hard-working, big-eating guys, it was a deal I couldn’t pass up. Three chickens and nearly two dozen homemade biscuits later, we had a fried chicken meal fit for royalty—hungry royalty. I even threw in some green beans for good measure. And I figured if I budgeted, the money left over would almost last the rest of the week—that is, if we took advantage of the grocery store’s sales.

“Who’s cooking? It actually smells good,” a large booming voice called from the entry.

“Zack’s girlfriend,” Nate answered.

“What? Pencil neck brought home a girlfriend?” another deep voice hollered.

“Knock it off, Joshua,” an older, hoarser voice warned.

Trying to stay calm and relaxed, I took my spot at the kitchen counter, ready to serve the hungry crowd just like I had at the orphanage. Only at the orphanage, I’d never had to worry about the children approving of me. Lost in my whirling vortex of worries, I barely noticed Zack’s dad and brothers walk into the kitchen until they were standing in front of me. I looked around, panicked. Where was Zack? He’d just run off and left me as soon as his family showed up.

“Zack ran out to the garage to get another chair,” Nate told me as if he could read my mind.

“Oh” was all I could utter as I stood there, petrified.

“Well, you must be Liz.” The giant-statured older gentleman stuck out his hand. It was even bigger than Zack’s. “I’m Zack’s dad, Paul Bartlett.”

Zack’s dad looked more like Paul Bunyan, with his heavy work boots, worn jeans, flannel shirt, and wide red suspenders holding his pants on over his big round belly.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” I replied, taking his one enormous hand in both of mine.

“This here is Joshua, Zack’s oldest brother.” Mr. Bartlett pointed to the shorter, stockier of the two boys. Joshua was extremely hairy, with a thick brown beard and shaggy, wavy hair. If he had nice features, I couldn’t tell under all the whiskers.

“Josh,” he corrected, putting his hand out.

“Hi, Josh.” I shook his hand. It was rough and dark with grime-stained calluses.

“Hi, I’m Patrick. But you can call me Pat. I’m the second oldest.” Pat was as tall as Zack but thick with muscle. Even with his intimidating frame, his face was soft and friendly. He didn’t reach his hand out like the others; he simply waved. I could tell from his demeanor that he had been the one who’d said my cooking smelled good. I was also pretty sure that Josh was the one who called Zack a pencil neck.

“Did I miss everything?” Zack asked, entering the kitchen carrying a chair over his shoulder.

“Yep, we already sized her up,” Josh remarked arrogantly.

“Well, what did you think?” Zack responded in an equally arrogant tone.

“We like her,” Pat answered quickly.

“Yeah, she’s a real looker,” Josh commented, making me blush.

“And an equally good cook, it looks like,” complimented his dad.

I could tell that Zack was an amalgam of his family. He was sometimes cocky and arrogant like his oldest brother Joshua. He was fun-loving and bit of a jokester like Nathan. When we were alone he was shy and kind like Patrick. Zack’s protective, responsible side was his dad through and through. I knew immediately that I loved them all, each member of Zack’s family, because they were all a part of Zack.

During dinner the boys ate like they hadn’t been fed in a year. It was the classic depiction of a feeding frenzy. For a moment I thought maybe I should have bought four chickens, but then they began to slow down. Nathan told them all about my idea for recycling the cans. I could tell from the look on Mr. Bartlett’s face that he was impressed by my resourcefulness.

“So not only did you cook a delicious meal, you got my sons to take out the trash.” Mr. Bartlett let out a deep belly laugh.

“I guess I did, sir,” I responded respectfully.

“Oh,
sir
!” a couple of the brothers teased.

“That’s enough,” Mr. Bartlett scolded, halting the mockery immediately. “We could use a little respect in this house. It wouldn’t hurt you show some. But you, sweetie, you can just call me Paul.”

“Thank you.” I nodded shyly.

When they were done eating, I cleared the table. I took the dishes to the kitchen, where I filled the sink with hot soapy water.

“What’s for dessert?” Josh called.

I walked back into the dining room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t make any dessert. I forgot.”

“Liz, he was just kidding.” Zack stood up and walked to my side, giving me a little squeeze around the waist.

“Oh.” I smiled, embarrassed. “Tomorrow I’ll make dessert,” I offered.

“Don’t do it on his account,” Mr. Bartlett remarked.

“I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do. After all, you’re letting me stay in your home.”

“What? You’re staying here?” Nathan teased.

After dinner Zack helped me with the dishes while his dad and brothers went to watch TV in the family room.

“You don’t have to help me.”

“Liz, what you’ve done means a lot.”

“I haven’t done anything. Go, sit with your family,” I urged him.

“Liz, you’ve done a lot. My brothers really like you. I can tell. And I haven’t seen my dad this happy in a long time.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s amazing what a little food can do.”

Zack kissed me full on the mouth. I could feel the mix of emotions through his lips. He was appreciative, happy, proud, and even a little sad. I’m sure that part was from remembering dinners with his mom.

“I know you love me. Now go spend time with your family. I’ll finish up in here.”

Zack walked off into the family room to join his family. Before he completely disappeared around the corner, he looked back and gave me one of his famous teeth-flashing smiles, the kind that I loved.

I was almost done wiping up the kitchen when Zack’s dad came in. “I’m heading up for the night,” he said. “Got to get up early and old men need their sleep.” He laughed as he rubbed his oversized belly. “Make yourself at home here, Liz. We’re real glad to have you.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” I nodded with a smile.

He smiled back. “Paul.”

“Paul,” I agreed.

“Good night. And don’t let my son try anything funny. I know him,” Mr. Bartlett teased with a wink.

“Oh!” I gasped,shocked and embarrassed.

“Good night, Liz.” Mr. Bartlett smiled again and walked up the stairs to bed.

“He’s just kidding with you,” Zack said from behind me. “It’s just his way of showing his approval, that’s all.”

I blushed. “It still embarrassed me.”

“I know.” Zack smiled as he pulled me closer to him. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

“What?”

“No matter what, you’re still that innocent, naïve girl I first met. I love that.” He leaned down and kissed me more passionately this time. For a moment I got swept away with the kiss, forgetting where I was or who was around. For a moment it was just Zack and me in love.

“Hmm-hmm!” a voice came from behind us.

We turned around to see Josh and Pat standing there. “Don’t mind us. We just live here,” Josh jabbed with a laugh.

I could feel the rush of blood to my cheeks. This was undoubtedly a fervently extensive blush.

“Oh, she’s shy,” Josh teased again.

“That’s okay, I’m shy too,” Patrick announced, taking some of the embarrassment on himself. It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture.

“Well, good night,” Josh said. “We have to work early.”

“’Night,” Patrick added. “It was nice meeting you, Liz. I hope you like it here.” He and Josh went up to bed.

“It looks like it’s just us now.” Zack leaned back over me and started kissing me again.

I kissed him back a few times and then broke the bad news to him. “Zack, I’m actually really tired too. I’m sorry, it’s just been a big day.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go to bed. I know you need your rest.” Disappointment laced his voice.

“Thank you.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I know, I know. I’ll be down here on the couch.”

“Thank you, Zack. I love you.” I kissed him good night and headed upstairs.

It was five o’clock in the morning and the sun wasn’t even up yet when I was woken by banging and yelling from downstairs. I sat up drowsily and got out of bed. I still wasn’t completely awake when I came down the stairs to find Mr. Bartlett in the kitchen, attempting to reheat some leftovers. The boys were in the family room, taunting Zack.

“What happened, bro? She kick you out?” Nathan teased.

“No, I’m being a gentleman,” Zack retorted.

“We know you’re not one of those,” Patrick taunted.

“Yeah, I thought you’d be raising the curtain on the salami theater by now,” Josh joked.

“Knock it off, Josh. She’s not like that,” Zack defended.

“Uh, she’s not?” Josh teased.

“I mean it, man,” Zack warned.

“We know, we know. You looove her,” Josh poked one last time.

“Well, I would like to think so,” I commented, walking down the stairs in my worn gray parochial sweatpants and t-shirt.

A hush fell over the room. The guys shut up completely. I enjoyed the power I had just claimed very much.

“Well, good morning, Liz,” Mr. Bartlett greeted.

“’Morning. Would you like me to help you with breakfast?” I offered, noticing the struggle that last night’s fried chicken was putting up.

“That’s all right. I didn’t even think you’d be up this early.”

“Did my brothers’ racket wake you up?” Zack asked, walking in the kitchen and kissing me good morning.

“Well, it
was
quite a racket.” I grinned at the boys.

“We’re leaving for work now anyway,” Mr. Bartlett announced, rounding up his crew. “You should head back up to bed for a couple more hours.”

“Yeah, I think I will. I’m still pretty tired.”

As soon as all the boys left for work, Zack knocked on the bedroom door as he opened it.

“You want some company? They’re all gone.” He had an impish grin.

I lifted up the blanket and he slid in next to me. Almost immediately I drifted back off to sleep. I always slept better with Zack beside me.

A couple of hours later I woke again, this time to the smell of something frying. Or burning? I hurried downstairs to find Zack making BLT sandwiches.

“I thought you might be getting hungry.” He handed me a plate with a lovingly albeit haphazardly prepared sandwich.

I liked my bacon crispy, so Zack’s attempt was perfect for me. Not to mention very sweet. Zack, on the other hand, preferred his bacon chewier, less charcoal-like. Unfortunately, with his limited cooking skills, he never quite knew when it was done to his liking.