Lily

by Chris Keniston

  “The whole idea is to come out here to relax, unplug, and learn to enjoy your friends and family, or whoever you’ve come out to be with. Unless you have one particular cell phone service, Mother Nature is a great help at forcing people to cut their ties to the outside world. Usually almost every night when the weather is nice, there’s a group of people playing cards on my grandfather’s porch.”

  Cole eased onto the sofa, keeping one eye on the kitchen to see if Lily was going to supervise. Much to his surprise, she didn’t come running over to make sure his foot was elevated high enough. “That would be the card tables and people who arrived last night. What do they play?”

  Lily opened and closed a cabinet, then another. “Mostly whist, but they’ve been known to play a hand or two of poker. Sometimes in the afternoons Grams will get a canasta game going, but mostly she just likes to tinker with her projects.”

  “Yes, she showed me before volunteering me to help with the yarn.” It would be interesting to see how the project turned out. According to Mrs. Hart, after she had enough squares made they would get attached and turned into a blanket. Apparently her last attempt at knitting didn’t fare so well. Something about dropped stitches. Based on the few mismatched sized samples she’d shown him, he wasn’t all that sure that this attempt at crochet was going to be any better. But he had to admit he had fun listening to the old lady prattle on about her granddaughters and how proud she was of them. Her Lily of course getting the most airtime.

  “That was very nice of you,” she said while her head was in the fridge.

  Cole shrugged. “It’s not like I had anything else to do. Besides, she’s a nice lady.”

  She slammed the fridge door shut, and hands on her hip, walked to the small pantry. “I hope my grandfather didn’t talk your ear off.”

  “Actually, it was your grandmother who did most of the talking while the General cooked. He didn’t join the conversation until after he’d finished cleaning up the kitchen.”

  Opening and closing the pantry door with barely a glance inside, Lily sighed.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Nothing in particular. Just doing an assessment. I definitely need to hit the grocery store. I don’t even have enough things here to make you a decent lunch.”

  “Oh, Lucy dropped off a casserole. It should be in the fridge.”

  “Yeah, but there are no sides.” She seemed hesitant to leave the kitchen. He had a feeling this was her domain. Where she was the most comfortable.

  Actually, he’d rather skip the casserole and make a nice kitchen sink salad, but he had a feeling the folks around here would have a heart attack at that suggestion. “So,” he glanced around the room, almost expecting to see something different than he’d seen every other time he’d looked around in the last day, “besides playing cards, what else do people do here?”

  “In the warmer weather there’s hiking, waterskiing, swimming, horseshoes, bocce, barbecues, bonfires…”

  “All outdoor activities. What do they do inside?” Heading off that sweet blush, he quickly added, “There has to be something else a family can do besides play cards.”

  She nodded. “Every cabin should be stocked with board games and puzzles.”

  “Puzzles? That could be fun. Where are they kept?”

  A broad smile on her face, she nodded and crossed the room to a cabinet by the window. “What do you like? Landscapes, florals, cars, planes…”

  The cabinet doors open, he could see ceiling to floor shelves crowded with puzzle boxes, games. And not just board games, he was pretty sure he could see pickup sticks, bingo, and a few other things he couldn’t quite make out from this distance. Definitely plenty to keep a family from boredom on a string of rainy days. “I don’t suppose they have a fire truck?”

  “Actually,” she stretched up on her tippy toes took hold of the box and turned around smiling at him, “we do. Dalmatian and all.” It only took a minute for Lily to clear the coffee table, sit closer to him, and spread out the pieces. “I like to start with the edges. You?”

  “Works for me.” Together they sifted through the thousand pieces of cardboard, the pile of straight edges growing to one side.

  One by one Lily had hunted down three of the corners. Lips pressed tightly together, the tip of her tongue peeking out at one end of her mouth, she looked totally adorable searching for that last anchor piece. So enthralled with watching her eyes sparkle as she sorted and separated, he’d forgotten his assigned task of locating all the blue sky pieces for the top of the puzzle.

  “Got it!” Bubbling with delight, Lily held up the fourth corner piece, showing it off with as much pride as a kid with a new toy at Christmas. The old cliché a breath of fresh air made so much sense. Who knew with the right company, even a silly jigsaw puzzle could be fun. Maybe going back to his empty apartment after tomorrow wasn’t such a great plan after all?

  Chapter Ten

  “Next time we pick a puzzle with more colors.” Lily turned the red piece in all directions as she searched for a match. Despite grumbling about the lack of diversity in the puzzle, she was having a much nicer time than she’d expected.

  “Try this one.” Cole handed her a piece. “It has a darker nub. Might work better on your side.”

  The guy had an eye for detail. Despite the sky being all blue, he’d managed to put most of the upper half together faster than she’d done one little corner of landscaping rocks and firehouse bricks.

  “Bingo!” Snapping it into place, she bounced in her seat singing ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’

  Shaking his head, Cole laughed. “Heaven knows how you’d react if you ever won the lottery.”

  Lifting her gaze to the ceiling, she closed one eye and then nodding, looked back at him. “That would have to be ‘Celebration’.” Both hands up in the air, palms out, she put a little shoulder action into the popular Kool and the Gang tune.

  “Ah.” Cole chuckled and snapped another puzzle piece into place. “So the quiet granddaughter has another side.”

  “Not everything is as it appears.” Not looking up, she rummaged through the pieces for something with a little hint of a yellow flower petal and continued humming the upbeat tune. “Nothing is ever black or white. Life is full of grays.”

  “But I suspect your life has a lot more pinks and purples and bright colors then you let on.”

  “Not really.”

  “No? Why don’t I believe you? What’s your favorite memory from growing up here?”

  “Summer.”

  “More specific, please.”

  She straightened and stared out the large picture window. So many happy memories with her family and cousins. Every child should grow up playing in the woods, on the sand, in the water. “Bonfires. I especially loved being out by the water at night, the stars shining bright, and cooking s’mores over the open fire.”

  “So everything really does come back to food for you?”

  Lily laughed. She hadn’t really looked at it that way, but maybe he was right. “I also liked playing tricks on the football team but that’s a story for another time.”

  “The football team?”

  “There’s something about sports and testosterone that turns ordinary little boys into arrogant teens. Everyone once in a while it was good to deflate their egos a bit.”

  “Oh, this I want to hear.” Cole leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Looking her over from top to bottom, his actions were punctuated with the rumbling of his stomach.

  Lost in the fun she was having with Cole and the puzzle, Lily hadn’t kept track of time. “You must be starved. I’ll heat up lunch.”

  “I want to hear about the football team’s deflating.”

  “One time,” she washed her hands at the sink, “a friend and I hid all their clothes while they were skinny dipping in the lake.”

  Cole’s eyes popped open wide. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that much deflating.”

  “Let me guess.” Li
ly kicked the fridge door shot with her foot and set the casserole on the counter. “You played football?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Quarterback?”

  “Actually,” his eyes reflected surprise, “yes.”

  It wasn’t such a leap. He was strong and lean, with arms that could easily toss a football across the field. She’d have been more surprised if he’d told her he’d been the chubby nerd.

  Removing the foil, she glanced at the dish. “Oh, this is one of my favorites.”

  “What is it?”

  “Lucy’s potato chip tuna casserole.”

  She glanced up just in time to see him wince before smiling. “Lucy seems like quite a character.”

  “You could say that.” She grabbed a potholder in each hand. “For as long as I can remember, Lucy’s been a part of this family. I think she’s the one who taught me my love of baking.”

  “So Lucy likes to bake too?”

  “A little. She likes baking cookies, but nothing complicated. She swears any attempt at bread tastes more like a paper weight, and her soufflés make great doilies.”

  Cole chuckled. “Neither a good thing.”

  “Nope. But it turns out I love baking. I like cooking too. But I love baking.” She slid the tuna noodle casserole into the oven and closed the door. Pulling the dish of spitzbubens from the counter, she walked back to where he was resting. “I know it’s not good to have dessert first but just a few to tide you over won’t hurt.”

  He eyed the dish warily. So much so, she actually looked down to make sure she grabbed the right plate and wasn’t handing him something outlandish like eggshells for the compost pile.

  “I promise I won’t tell your mother,” she teased, trying to break the oddly tense moment.

  His gaze lifted from the plate to her. “Excuse me?”

  “Everyone’s mother drums it into us not to spoil our supper. I guess I was just trying to be funny.”

  “Oh. Sometimes I can be a bit dense. You know, leftover jock syndrome.” He smiled, bringing a twinkle to his eyes, and picked up a cookie. “Normally I don’t eat a lot of sweets. But these cookies are so good they could easily become addictive.”

  That made her want to grin like the Cheshire cat. “That’s what everyone tells me. But a little sugar once in a while isn’t all bad.”

  “But it’s not once in a while. It’s in everything. Processed foods are filled with sugar and preservatives and additives and the list goes on and on.”

  She plopped in the seat across from him and pointed to the kitchen. “Would that have anything to do with all those canisters on the counter?”

  “It does.”

  “And all the salad fixings that Gabe brought?”

  He nodded. “My job requires that I be in excellent shape. The equipment we carry alone requires me to stay beyond fit, never mind if we have a bad day and I have to carry somebody out, or more than one somebody. A body needs proper fuel, much the way a high-performance race car would.”

  “Carbs are fuel. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that professional athletes often eat pasta before a big game?”

  “Pasta is a complex carb. That isn’t the same thing as fried foods or a bag of cookies.”

  “Noted.” She’d take a bag of her cookies over his green gunk any day. “I’ll make sure to put fresh meats and vegetables on the grocery list. Or are you vegetarian?” She held back a soft moan. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re vegan. The world would be such a happier place if everybody used butter.”

  Cole snapped another piece into the puzzle. The soft rumble of his laughter made her want to smile. She liked the sound of it. “No, I’m not vegan. When I eat any meat, though, I do prefer grass-fed, organic, and hormone free.”

  “That I can do.” She looked around at the last couple of the puzzle pieces on the table, wondering what she could bake that would be both fun and healthy.

  “Looks like we have a problem.” Cole pressed one piece, then the next into place and leveled his gaze with hers.

  “I hate it when this happens.” Lily leaned back in her chair. Nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces nicely fit together and one gaping hole.

  “Maybe we should mark the top of the box for the next person.”

  “Or send it off to recycle and replace it.”

  “Or that.” He smiled.

  The oven timer sounded and Lily sprang from her seat. Who’d have thunk all those years ago when Lily was pranking the football team that one day she’d be confined to quarters with a quarterback? The whole idea made her want to giggle like a high school freshman. Lily and the quarterback.

  ***

  After the last puzzle he’d dozed off briefly and awoken to the sounds of Lily moving around in the kitchen. If she was making more of those cookies, he was in big trouble. At this rate, with all the high fats, high carb, and high sugar foods, Cole would have to double his workout regime sooner than later. Easing onto the scooter, he rolled across the small cabin. “What’s cooking?”

  “Brownies.” Hands that could have belonged to a concert pianist turned the spatula, folding ingredients together in a bright red bowl. The dimple in her cheek belied the intensity of her gaze as the mixture thickened.

  An empty can of pumpkin caught his eye. “Pumpkin?”

  “I’m playing a little.” She stuck her finger in the batter then into her mouth and shook her head.

  “What exactly are you trying to do?” Cole shifted from the scooter to stool beside her.

  “You got me thinking.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve always baked with real butter, real sugar, but maybe…” Her words trailed off as she took another taste.

  “Have you tried apple sauce?”

  “Of course.” Snapping her fingers, her face lit up much the way it had done every time she’d snapped a puzzle piece in place.

  So many things surprised him lately. How much he had enjoyed sitting still on the sofa working together on a jigsaw puzzle. How his own cheeks tugged his face into a smile every time she squealed with glee over a simple matching piece. How his chest expanded like a proud peacock at bringing that twinkle to her eyes. And how much he would probably like standing beside her, chopping vegetables, bumping elbows, sharing smiles, really cooking together. The thoughts had him considering what it would be like to do other mundane daily routines. How much fun would she make changing the sheets, doing laundry, vacuuming, dusting? The list was endless, and with every passing moment, he found himself filling in the blanks and enjoying the scenes his mind created.

  The squeaking from the front door hinges interrupted the picture in his mind.

  “Yoo hoo,” a female voice called, hurrying past them into the kitchen, her arms laden with brown grocery sacks. “There’s more in the car.”

  Lily immediately sprang back, flinging her arms around the guest before the lady had completely set the packages down. “Oh my gosh, Iris! What on earth are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Thailand?”

  “Supposed to be is the key phrase.” The petite blonde returned the ardent embrace. “I’m just here for tomorrow and then I have to head back to the city. The Throckmortons are driving me crazy. If they think I’m climbing mountains in Tibet or freezing in Antarctica, they can find themselves another nanny.”

  “That bad?” Lily followed the young woman out the door, their voices drifting off.

  Cole wasn’t sure if the woman was a sister or a cousin. From what he remembered hearing from the General the day he’d done the inspections, there were nine granddaughters from three daughters. He remembered because the way the General had explained he had one daughter here, another in Boston and another in New York, the opening ditty from a later season of the old Charlie’s Angels TV show about the angels coming from three different cities came to mind. The show had been one of his mom’s favorites and he was pretty sure he’d seen every episode thanks to retro reruns.

  The chatter from outside grew louder a
s the two women came into the house carrying more groceries. Not being able to hop up and help had his pleasant afternoon shifting into one of frustration and restlessness. So much for learning to enjoy being laid up for a while.

  “There are days when I can’t believe those two self-centered spoiled brats are the same adorable children I’ve lived with for the last three years. I mean, how does any human being change so dramatically so fast?”

  “No clue, but the answer is probably the same for a few adults I know.”

  “Sorry I can’t offer to lend a hand,” Cole said, as if it weren’t obvious why he couldn’t help.

  “Oh.” Lily dropped the bag she carried quickly onto the island. “Iris, this is Cole, the man I, uh, am helping while he’s laid up. Cole, this is my cousin Iris.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” the woman said with a sudden air of polish he hadn’t expected from someone who up until a few minutes ago had been chattering away like one of the teenagers she’d been complaining about.

  “Sit down and tell me everything.” Lily emptied a bag.

  Iris shook her head. “Sorry, I still haven’t reported in to the General. I came from the One Stop for some of Katie’s soda bread and she asked if I could bring a few groceries to you here at the Willow guest cottage.” Her gaze drifted casually to Cole and his leg resting on the scooter. “Looks like Katie didn’t fill me in on everything.”

  “It’s a long story. It started yesterday morning when he was jogging and I was heading to work—”

  “Your cousin,” he interrupted, “is being a good sport and taking care of me while I’m a bit,” he extended his broken wrist without moving his shoulder, “incapacitated.”

  The way Iris looked at him then her cousin, he was sure she knew there was a lot more to the story than what he’d just shared. Maybe he shouldn’t have stepped in, but the look of embarrassment in Lily’s eyes as she began to explain to Iris why she was here made him want to spare her from reliving the story once again.