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And that’s how I end up entering the kitchen with Caleb right behind me. Gramps gets over his shock quickly and starts gushing over Caleb.
Apparently, the fact he pitched an entire game without allowing the other team to hit the ball is kind of a big deal. Which explains some of Caleb’s amusement in the barn. Mygrandfatheris more up-to-date on town news than I am.
Thankfully, dinner is one of Gramps’s better creations. He and Caleb talk easily, while I mostly observe. It’s not as strange as I expected it to be, having a third person sitting at the rickety kitchen table. HavingCalebsit at the rickety kitchen table.
And that’s sort of terrifying.
He wasn’t supposed to fit.
* * *
The next two weeks fly by. Caleb’s schedule grows more hectic thanks to baseball, and mine was already packed.
But he continues coming over to the farm, mostly at night, but sometimes in the morning, and we talk. About everything and nothing. The only thing we never discuss is the future.
I’m guessing Caleb never brings it up because he knows the entire school is eagerly trying to figure out which elite Division I university he’ll be pitching at next spring. And I have my own reasons for avoiding the subject.
“Caleb’s been spending a lot of time over here lately,” Gramps comments one evening at dinner, right after Caleb left.
“I guess,” I reply, thrown by his cautious tone.
“Just be careful,” Gramps warns. “The Winters, they…well, Elaine—”
A shockwave rolls through me at the sound of my mother’s name. “What about Mom?”
“The Winters family has been worshipped here for a long time,” Gramps says. “Caleb’s father, Austin—well, people treated him the same way they treat Caleb now. I’m glad you’re having some fun, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Lennie.”
Gramps reaches under the kitchen table and pulls a blue bundle of fabric out. He hands the roll to me.
“What’s this?”
“A sleeping bag,” Gramps replies. “Figured you could use it on the senior trip. It gets cold up in the mountains at night.”
“I’m not going on the senior trip, Gramps. I—”
“Yes, youaregoing.” There’s an undercurrent of authority I rarely hear from him. “I let college drop—for now.” He gives me a stern look. “Because you’re partially right. I don’t have any good options for taking care of things around here myself for that long. But three nights I can handle. And, before you ask, I have friends coming to help out. Go be a kid for a bit, darling. I know you had to grow up fast, and I’m sorry you did. But life is short. You already know that. You’ll regret not going one day.”
I want to argue, but studying his weathered, wrinkled face, I realize this is for him as much as for me. He wants to do this.
“Okay.” I blow out a breath. “I’ll go.”
I stand to clear our empty plates, and then circle the table so I can wrap my arms around him, chair and all. It reminds me of the days I used to spend traveling around the farm on his shoulders.
“I love you, Gramps.”
He pats my arm affectionately. “Love you too, Lennie. Just no shenanigans with the Winters boy on the trip, all right?”
“Gramps!” I exclaim. My cheeks are burning, making me glad he can’t see my face right now.
He laughs and stands. “What sort of guardian would I be if I sent you off on an overnight trip without mentioning it? I was a young man once myself.”
“Stop talking! I’m going out for the night check now,” I inform him, still blushing.
Gramps’s chuckles follow me out of the house. The mare barn is still and quiet when I enter it, but the horses hear the door creak open and start rustling around. I head inside the tack room to grab the hay bags I already prepared earlier.
I divvy them out among the five mares the same way I do every night, and then feed the stallions.
It’s a clear, starry night. I stand in the doorway for a few minutes, looking out at the pasture and contemplating the end of another day. They all blur together, sometimes.
