“Thank you, Ev. I’m honored to be here.” Father and daughter share identical smiles.
Mom tears up. “Excuse me,” she sniffs. She jumps up from the table to go dab at her eyes. Linnie’s eyes follow my mom with some concern whereas Ev looks on indulgently.
Way to go, Ev, I think bitingly. We can’t even get through a family meal together without some drama.
“Ev, should I…” Linnie starts, but Ev cuts her off.
“No, darling. She’s okay. She’s just as happy to have you here as I am,” Ev reassures her. Linnie relaxes slightly in her chair. He remains standing until my mother comes back just a few moments later, her eyes slightly damp but a huge smile on her face.
“Now, look at the trouble I’ve caused. I hope dinner isn’t too cool.”
“Mom, if you cooked it, even if it’s as cold as an iceberg, it’s still going to require a pitcher of drinks to get through.”
Linnie reaches for her drink while eyeing her plate askance.
I laugh out loud, absorbing her small movements. “If you don’t like it hot, don’t eat in Char Parrish’s kitchen,” I warn her wickedly.
“Let’s finish the toast before you terrify the poor girl, Monty,” Ev chastises me. “Welcome, Linnie. It may not seem like it now, but we hope you will come to think of this place as a second home. Cheers.” He leans forward with his glass.
“Cheers.” Mom lifts her glass.
“Cheers,” Linnie repeats, a hint of doubt in her voice.
I touch my glass to all of theirs, not saying a word. Instead, I take a long pull of my drink when we separate before I ask, “So, Linnie, have you ever been riding?”
A self-deprecating smile crosses her face. “Does riding in a carriage behind a horse around Central Park count?”
“Umm, not exactly,” I laugh. I appreciate her honesty. Watching skilled people on a horse make riding look easy when it’s anything but.
“Then no, I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll have a chance while you’re here,” Ev says consolingly.
“I feel like I’m Alice in Wonderland,” Linnie bemoans. Everyone laughs.
I give her a brief once-over. “You’re about the right size. How do you look with blonde hair?” I tease.
Imagine my shock when Ev shoves away from the table with his hand clapped over his mouth. “What did I say?” I ask my mother. She shakes her head, her face wreathed in mirth.
Linnie’s the only one able to speak. “Ask me that again some other time. So, what kind of horse do you recommend for someone who’s frankly scared of losing a foot?”
I explain how gentle all of our horses on the property are as we teach classes for children of all ages and skill level. Linnie asks a few questions, and soon the conversation around the table turns to the farm, how certain horses are faring, and Mom promising Linnie a full tour soon.
Where the questions don’t go is to the mysterious brunette whose eyes sparkle as she takes small bites of the delicious food Mom prepared even as I shovel it in.
I didn’t realize before I sat down how hungry I was, both for information and food.
Twenty-Seven
Montague
“Linnie, I hope this tastes good. They didn’t have the brand you mentioned you liked, so I asked the store clerk, and they said this is just as good.” My mother looks on anxiously while sliding a small bowl of greek yogurt and berries in front of Ev’s daughter. It’s impossible to think of Linnie as my stepsister, especially since very lucid images of her have been easing their way past the nightmares that plague me each night. It’s not stopping me from waking up bathed in sweat, or being unable to go back to sleep without a little help from my friend Maker’s Mark, but thinking of Linnie Brogan is that calm that eases me back into slumber with less anxiety despite the liquor tearing a hole in my stomach.
Linnie shoots her a dazzling smile, which relieves none of the tension I’m feeling but which draws an equal one from my mother. “Thanks, Char. This is perfect.” She plucks a ripe strawberry out of the dish and dips it into the yogurt. “Delicious! And these berries are so fresh! Where did you get them?”
My mother beams. “I’ll take you shopping with me next time we go. This store is insane. You have to go in with a list, and then you have to expect to spend 20 percent more than what you think you’re going to…”
“Is that what happens to the grocery budget,” Ev gripes as he shoves a bite of food into his mouth.