The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (16)

“Of course. Eve isn’t home from the motel yet, and Gabby’s at the church with Peter, but someone will help out, even if it’s me. What time do you need to leave?”

“A quarter to four.”

“Someone will be there.”

“Thanks, Janet. I really appreciate it.”





After a late lunch, Josh mowed the lawn with me. I had never had so much to mow in my life, and I was grateful that the previous owners left the riding mower when they sold me the house. Of course, it took twice as long as it should have because letting Josh help meant we made a lot of wrong turns and sudden stops and took frequent breaks to hydrate and pee because it was hot today.

By the time we made the last pass on the north side of the barn, my long-legged neighbor girl in cut-off shorts, a pink T-shirt, and white sneakers traipsed toward the house while eating an apple with one hand and carrying a bag in her other. Eve’s dark hair tangled with the wind, and she shook her head to get it out of her face just as we stopped the mower by the garage.

When she smiled, I felt it in places I didn’t need to feel the effects of an eighteen-year-old girl.

Woman.

I meant it when I said she reminded me of myself, but a better version. My family never found my humor funny. And I spent a lot of days grounded in my room. I had a penchant for alcohol and other things that weren’t good for me.

“You’re early,” I said.

Eve chewed the bite of apple and inspected her watch, which had pink and yellow straps that day. “It’s three fifty-five. I figured I was a little late.”

“It’s what?” I looked at my watch, but it still read one fifty. The battery had died.

“Nooo. No. No. No.” I lifted Josh off the mower and sprinted toward the front door. As soon as I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter, I dashed out the front door. “I’m going to be late. And I said anyone who’s late has to run an extra mile.” I opened the truck door. “Sorry. Thank you. Gotta go.”

Eve grinned as I started my truck. She held her hand up with the apple and waved at me with her ring and pinkie fingers. I returned a grimace because it was all I could muster before I peeled out of the driveway.

I was five minutes late to practice, and the players let me know as much.

“You said if you were late, you’d run the extra mile,” one of them reminded me.

Rod Webber, my assistant coach, smirked.

I shrugged off my shirt and tossed it onto the grass before jogging to the track. “If everyone just stands around watching me, I will make you run two extra miles.”

The team, minus Rod, jogged behind me. By the time they finished their one required mile, I was already ahead by an extra lap and a half. Rod let them grab water before they stretched and moved on to drills while I finished my extra mile.

Although I knew I would miss Adam and our other friends in Colorado, I was happy with how talented my star quarterback and the rest of the team were. We were going to have a good year.





I returned home a little after six, and the house smelled like an Italian eatery of garlic and spices. Josh was in his booster seat, eating lasagna at the dinner table.

“Hey,” I said, smiling at him before shifting my attention to Eve, who was drying the last dish. “I had ingredients for lasagna?”

“No.” She laughed. “My mom sent groceries with me in case you didn’t have things to eat.”

“There’s bologna and bread.” I filled a glass with water and gulped every drop.

Eve set a clean plate on the counter. “My mom doesn’t consider a bologna sandwich a proper dinner. But don’t tell her I told you that. She’s not one for making anyone, except her daughters, feel bad about their life choices.”

I stood behind Josh and bent down to nuzzle his neck.

He giggled. “Stop, Daddy! You’re sweaty.”

“I know.” I shrugged off my shirt and used it to wipe my face and sweaty hair. “When you’re done eating, I’ll shower.”

“If you want to shower now, I can wait for him to finish.” Eve smiled. It wasn’t her usual sassy grin. It was more of a shy one that made her cheeks turn pink. And she averted her gaze when I looked at her.

“Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded while wiping the already clean counter with the dishtowel.

“Thanks.”

Eve returned a second “Mm-hmm.”

When I finished my shower, Josh was in the living room, playing with his blocks and Matchbox cars, while Eve grated an apple in the kitchen. A plate of lasagna, salad, and garlic bread was at the table, along with a folded paper napkin, fork, and a glass of ice water.

“This is beyond what I expected when I called your mom, begging for someone to help me tonight,” I said, sitting at the table. “This looks and smells incredible.”

Eve glanced up from the bowl of shredded apple and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Are you making your special applesauce?”

She nodded.

“I might just keep you.” I stabbed my fork into the lettuce.

Eve paused her hands, brown eyes wide and unblinking.

I shook my head while I chewed the salad. “That sounded wrong. I just meant Josh could get spoiled having homemade lasagna and fresh applesauce.”