Under An Adirondack Sky. Karen Rock
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gray smoke billowed out and they all coughed.
“Need some help out there?” called Marty Sikes from the kitchen window.
“Under control, Marty, thanks.” Aiden waved at the older man and turned back to the charred meat. “Those aren’t edible.”
“Someone will eat them,” muttered Connor. He grabbed a spatula and the girl elbowed Aiden aside and held out a platter.
“Respect. Personal space, Tameya,” coaxed Rebecca, her eyes flashing a gentle warning.
“Thanks, Tameya,” Connor said, without looking her in the eye, his cheeks turning blotchy, his posture tense and self-conscious. Did he like this girl?
“I promise you, I’m so hungry I could eat this hockey puck.” Tameya laughed, then held a hand over her mouth, covering her braces, which had gleamed silver in the dimming light. Connor’s lips twitched up and Aiden and Rebecca exchanged a long look.
Without thinking, he returned her small smile, then remembered how much he hated being here.
“Dinner!” chorused a gang from the window.
“Just wait till you see what we got,” Tameya yelled back, and giggled again, nudging Connor in the side. His brother picked up speed in transferring the patties, but didn’t move away from the girl, Aiden noticed.
Great. A vacation and a romance. Exactly what neither of them needed. Not when Connor should be doing summer schoolwork to make up a class he’d failed, and focus on behaving well to get promoted to tenth grade. Not when Aiden should be keeping his pub from falling further behind, instead of doing whatever useless activities Rebecca and her crew planned.
No. No time for fun. And definitely no time for romance. So why couldn’t he stop looking at the beautiful Rebecca? His brain must be losing oxygen at this altitude, he decided as he marched back into the house.
The large kitchen opened into an even larger dining room, both areas covered in cheerful, clashing patterned wallpapers, nearly every inch of which held ornate framed photos. A silver spoon collection from all fifty states hung by an authentic wood box phone in the kitchen, the heavy black earpiece of which rested in its metal holder.
That can’t be the only phone on the premises, Aiden mused, eyeing it warily.
A scarred natural pine table, followed by four folding tables, then a fancy dark wood table, spanned the length of the two rooms. Plates and cutlery rested at odd angles to the chairs, some missing completely, while empty glasses were horizontal as often as they were vertical. In the center of each table, a clump of thorny weeds sprang out of tin pails, baskets holding lumps of something doughy beside each one.
Connor pulled the neck of his T-shirt out as he moved farther inside the humid room. “Not sure if you still want these.” He gestured with the platter of charred burgers he carried.
“Why, of course we do,” boomed Marty, who’d changed from his overalls into some kind of plaid dress slacks and a yellow, long-sleeved dress shirt.
“They’re burned,” Connor muttered, looking out the window, but holding the platter high.
“No risk of food poisoning then. A gal visiting from Montreal ordered up one of them steaks tartare. Those are raw, you know. Well. She got E. coli and was stuck for a month at the community hospital.” Marty thumped Connor on the shoulder as he took the plate. “Good looking out for the folks.”
Connor nodded slowly and his mouth twitched. He shot Aiden a triumphant glance.
Aiden had to hold back a smile, too. Rebecca bustled by him and he breathed in the exotic smell she left in her wake.
“Is there a seating order?” she asked. In her light pink T-shirt and jean shorts that showed off a narrow waist and long curvy legs, she looked almost as young as the kids she managed. No wonder they didn’t respect her. Fear her. Do as they were told. She looked like someone to have fun with. Confide in. Fall for...
Did Connor have a crush on her? Aiden shot his brother a look, remembering the origami, but the boy seemed occupied trying not to appear too interested in Tameya’s chatter, her voice rising loud enough to drown out anyone else trying to speak.
“Thought we’d sit adults, then kids, alternating order. Sound good?” chimed in Judith as she straightened from the oven, bearing a pan of baked beans.
“Sounds great,” declared one of the other psychologists. The one with the weird name—Journey. After some jostling, Aiden found himself between a couple of boys, who nodded when he introduced himself, but didn’t offer up their names.
“Who’d like a burger?” A bunch of hands shot up, then dropped when Marty produced the platter of burned meat, a few wisps of smoke still curling around the edges.
“Aw, come on now, kids,” brayed the man. “Think of the teeth cleaning these will give ya.”
Silence descended and the kids looked at one another, then laughed. Connor stared determinedly down at his lap.
Before Aiden could reach for one, Rebecca leaned over, bun in hand. “These are just the way I like them. Extra crispy.”
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