Page 77 of Renegade Path


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“Smells good.”

She waved her hands toward a shelf in the corner. “I’ve been entertaining myself going through Mrs. Shield’s cookbooks. I usually bring leftovers to school for Pip and—”

“You’ve been bringing him lunch?”

“Well, yeah.” She half-smiled. “Although, he really likes baked goods more.”

“He’s got a serious sweet tooth.” I didn’t know what else to say. “I can’t believe you’ve been doing that.”

“Well, I’m so worried my aunt and uncle are going to find out where I am or try to make me come back, I pretty much go to school and come right home. Get my homework done. Talk to Vienna. Cook and bake.”

“I’m so sorry you’ve been worrying about them.”

She shrugged. “Dex comes by, but he was on the road for a little while.”

“Have you heard from your aunt and uncle?”

“No and that freaks me out a little bit.”

The oven dinged and she pulled the door down and leaned in to grab a tray.

“I can do that for you,” I offered.

“It’s okay.” She set the tray on top of the stove. Thick, crusty wedges of Italian bread slid to the edge. My mouth watered. “What’s that?”

“Garlic bread.” She ripped off a paper towel and used a pair of tongs to place one of the slices in the middle, then handed it to me. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Absolutely ravenous, I tore into the bread, not caring that it singed the roof of my mouth. “Oh, fuck that’s good,” I mumbled, crumbs dropping everywhere.

She chuckled at me. “Go sit down.”

I was only in her way, so I sat at the table and finished my toast while I watched her. She placed the remaining pieces of garlic bread in a basket and set it on the table in front of me. I grabbed another slice and bit into it.

“Do you need me to do anything?” I asked.

“No.” She opened the fridge. “Is milk okay?”

“It’s perfect.” I paid careful attention to where she pulled items from. The glasses came out of the cabinet next to the refrigerator. Looked like plates were to the left of that one. I’d let her wait on me today, but by tomorrow, I wanted to be useful around here.

“Okay.” She set a huge bowl of spaghetti coated in rich meat sauce on the table. Fancy serving utensils stuck out of the bowl. “Go ahead.”

“Juliet, I’m so hungry, I could gobble that entire bowl.”

She hesitated and glanced at the refrigerator. “I can eat a—”

“I’m kidding.” I reached for the spaghetti and scooped a generous portion on her plate before taking my own. It was a struggle, but I tried not to shovel the food in like a barn animal. Everything tasted amazing. “Did you make this all yourself?”

“Well, the sauce is from a jar. But I added the meat and vegetables.”

“It’s so good.” I bit into another crunchy piece of garlic toast. “Thank you.”

She twirled her spaghetti into a neat ball, before taking dainty bites while I kept scarfing mine down like a homeless dog.

When we finished, I helped her clear the table but she shooed me away from the sink. “I’ve got this. I have a few more things I want to do out here.”

I glanced at the clock. “I better get working on that snow, anyway.”

She walked me to the front closet. Mrs. Shields had kept two of her husband’s winter coats and a pair of his bib overalls there.

“Uh, the blaze orange is a bold fashion choice.”

“Well, I won’t lose you in the snow.” She grinned at me. “I think Mr. Shields was a hunter.”

I ran my fingers over the other one—a newer red plaid wool coat. “Must’ve been his going out coat?”

She shrugged.

“I’ll go with blaze orange for the snow removal.”

“Good choice.”

“Do you know where there’s a shovel?”

“Oh. I used the broom that was on the porch.” She bit her lip and turned in a circle before walking down the hall and opening one of the doors. “Maybe there’s a shovel in the garage. It scares me, so I don’t go out there much.”

“You’re scared of the garage?”

“Don’t judge me, Roman.”

I laughed and kissed her cheek. “I’m not. I swear. It’s adorable.”

She huffed but the way the corners of her mouth quivered, it looked like she was trying not to laugh.

I flicked on the light in the garage. “Oh, shit. No wonder Mrs. Shields didn’t park the car in here.”

“I know, right?”

The space was full. A workbench took up one whole side of the garage and held more tools than I could identify. Cabinets loaded with even more tools lined the back wall. Lawn equipment was lined up in front of the workbench. I studied the big green riding mower. “Now, that’ll be nice in the spring. I won’t have to push a mower.”

I found a wide walk-behind snowblower under a tarp. “Jackpot. I hope it runs.” There were several shovels to choose from in case I couldn’t get the snowblower started. So many options. I wasn’t sure where to start.

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