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Sinful Purity (Sinful Series)

Page 26

by K. A. Standen


  “Okay, that’s a deal. But you don’t really need to make dinner again, Liz. You are the guest.”

  “I know, but I like doing it. They seem like they really enjoy my cooking. And that makes me feel good. Anyway, I’m going to be part of the family soon, right?” I reminded him with a playful smirk.

  Zack gave in with a big smile. “Okay.”

  I knew that reminding him of our newly planned commitment would do the trick. I went to work in the kitchen, scrubbing the splattered bacon grease off every surface in the room. Zack went to get some wood glue to fix the well-used and nearly splintered banister.

  “I love you,” he called as he opened the door to the garage, continuing his search.

  I know you do, I thought, with a genuinely appreciative smile as I scoured.

  In a matter of only a few hours, Zack had masterfully repaired the handrail on the worn stairwell. He even added a new coat of paint from an old can he’d found in the storage shed. I could tell he was going above and beyond to please me. By the end of our workday, I thought he’d actually started to enjoy fixing up the place himself. After all, this was his childhood home. It had to be disconcerting to watch it fall into disrepair. He even volunteered to tighten up and strengthen the old oak kitchen chairs with the leftover wood glue.

  With Zack occupied, I went about polishing and waxing all the woodwork and furniture in the kitchen and family room. I was just about to start on the front parlor when Zack decided I was working too hard and needed a break.

  “Isn’t this enough manual labor for one day? You are supposed to be on break, after all.” He laughed.

  He was right, I could use a break. I was getting pretty worn out. “Yeah, I could use a rest.”

  “Good, then come here.” Zack plopped down on the still-dingy but recently cleaned sofa. He patted his legs as a sign that he wanted me to sit on his lap.

  Of course I obliged. I never turned down a chance to be close to him. “Yes, my love. What do you have in mind?” I flirted, stretching my legs out on the couch and throwing my arms around his neck as I sat down on his lap.

  “Oh, Liz. You should never ask me that. I always have lots of things in mind,” he joked seductively.

  I giggled. “Zack, you’re so naughty.”

  “In a good way, right?”

  “Of course!” I replied, giving him a big kiss. “How about that walk?” I asked, reminding him of the plan.

  “I thought you were going to take a rest.”

  “Zack, relax. I’m fine. Anyway, if you’re like this now, what are you going to be like in nine months?” I teased, secretly in love with the idea.

  “Okay, a short walk,” he conceded.

  “Thank you!” I said, jumping off his lap, ready to go.

  Outside, the air was brisk and chilly. Even in the midday sun the frosty ground barely attempted to thaw. But the frigid weather never deterred the vivid greens of the forest. The trees were like mossy skyscrapers, ever reaching toward the life-sustaining sun. In some places the trees were thick and closely bound, forming a beautiful, protective emerald canopy. In other places the towering giants were sparse, honorably permitting the beams of sunlight to touch the smaller, more fragile, less dominant foliage. The whole setting reminded me of a mystical, magical realm. I childishly expected woodland fairies and nymphs to leap from their well-concealed hiding spots at any moment.

  “It’s getting late. We should get back,” Zack said, breaking my wonderment.

  It was nearly four thirty. I hadn’t realized I had let time get so far away from me. I had less than an hour before Zack’s dad and brothers came home from the mill. I still had to make dinner. Zack and I swiftly headed back to the house with our one designated task in mind.

  By five fifteen I was just putting the lasagna in the oven to bake. Mr. Bartlett’s massive eighteen-wheel tree hauler emerged from the tree-lined drive.

  “They’re home,” Zack called from the family room, where he’d been looking out the window.

  I ran over to him, jumped into his arms, and wrapped my legs around his waist, desperately kissing him over and over. We kissed passionately and hastily until our mouths lingered, selfishly ignorant of our limited time. Then, remembering our impending company, I jumped down.

  “What was that for?” Zack questioned, surprised by my vigor and boldness.

  “I just wanted to steal a private moment before everyone came in,” I answered, trying to explain my lack of propriety.

  I knew that once his dad and brothers walked in, the house would be filled with commotion and mockery. That is, until they retired for the evening. With Zack dutifully sleeping on the couch, I didn’t know when my next chance for abandon would be. I loved him so much. I just didn’t want to be forced to wait another minute to show him.

  “Hello, hello,” I heard Mr. Bartlett’s gravelly voice call.

  “You aren’t naked in here, are you?” Josh said as he walked through the door.

  “Don’t start on them,” Patrick implored considerately.

  “Hey, it smells good in here again,” said Nathan’s young and optimistic voice.

  “Lucky us.” Mr. Bartlett walked into the kitchen with a smile.

  “I’m sorry, I started dinner late. It won’t be ready for about another thirty minutes,” I told him regretfully.

  “Well, that’s perfect timing, my dear. Me and the boys can get cleaned up first,” Mr. Bartlett volunteered genteelly, erasing my concerns with his smile.

  “Thank you,” I replied gratefully.

  “Come on, boys. We’re going to wash up for dinner for once,” Mr. Bartlett ordered, wrangling the motley bunch as he hung his coat on the rack by the front door and kicked off his muddy boots.

  From my spot in the kitchen, I could just catch a glimpse of him taking a second look around the freshly unsoiled and newly tidied front room. “Well, what do you know about that,” I heard him murmur as he trudged upstairs.

  While the boys cleaned themselves up, I speedily made the salad and toasted up some garlic bread in the oven. When the previously filthy lot came back down, they were immaculate, almost gentlemanly. Nathan even helped me set the table while Patrick swept up the mud and debris the four of them had tracked in when they came home from work. I was shocked by the helpfulness. But I knew it was just their way of showing their gratitude. I placed the dish of lasagna on the table along with the salad and bread and joined the boys at the table.

  “It looks great, Liz,” Mr. Bartlett complimented.

  “Wow, two nights in a row. You sure you have to leave on Sunday?” Nathan asked.

  “Yeah, you could stay and cook for us all the time,” teased Josh.

  “Ignore him. Although you could stay anyway, if you wanted,” Patrick said.

  “Well, it’s great that you guys feel that way. Because we were kind of thinking of coming back for the summer,” Zack told them.

  “What are you talking about? You come home every summer, bro,” Nathan pointed out.

  “I’m talking about Liz. She might come back with me in a couple of months after school lets out. If it’s okay with all of you.”

  “Zack, this isn’t the time,” I said, anxious for the conversation to end. “Let them eat. They’re hungry. Summer is months away.”

  “No, it’s fine Liz,” Zack countered. He turned to his family. “You see, this is Liz’s first year at college. And she doesn’t really have anywhere to spend the summer except back at the—”

  “Please, Zack. Not now,” I protested, desperate not to have him say orphanage. Even if they did know, I didn’t want to have to see the way they looked at me after they heard the word.

  “Liz, you’re always welcome here. Whatever you choose, we’d love to have you,” Mr. Bartlett told me.

  “Thank you, sir,” I replied. Then I saw his look. “I mean Paul.”

  “Good,” he said back.

  “You don’t even have to cook for us.” Josh spoke in a kind and genuine manner, completely
out of character for him.

  This was what I hated. How people would change and become all nice and pitiful when they found out I was an orphan. I didn’t want to be pitied and I didn’t want any charity. I just wished the whole conversation had never happened.

  “So you’re an orphan, huh? That has to suck. I bet you get the pity card all the time.” Nathan once again articulated my innermost thoughts. I couldn’t understand how he did that.

  “Nathan! That’s rude,” Patrick interjected, trying to spare my feelings once again. He was very sweet and sensitive.

  “I’m just saying. I remember when mom died and all of a sudden everyone treated us different. Like they were afraid to say the wrong thing. I just wished they would say what they thought, instead of walking around all careful and making us feel weird. That’s all,” Nathan retorted, unbothered by his brother’s hushing.

  “Nathan, I think you’re right,” I said. “No one has ever put it quite like that, but yeah, it does suck. Especially when people treat you differently. I’m glad you said something. I was wondering when it was going to come up.” I laughed. I couldn’t believe that a sixteen-year-old boy had opened my eyes.

  After all these years of thinking that being an orphan made me less, it was amazing to realize it wasn’t me. It was really just other people’s insecurities, their not knowing how to deal with me. Everyone always tried to be delicate so that they wouldn’t make my plight worse. My situation made them feel uncomfortable. In their attempts to make me feel better, they just made me feel different and self-conscious. Even Brett was always so careful with me. He always ran away, afraid of making things worse. What I loved about Caleb, Lucy, and Zack was that they treated me like a normal person. It was no big deal to them. I wasn’t ashamed of being an orphan. I just always feared people finding out because they would treat me differently afterward.

  “You sure it’s okay, Liz?” Zack looked at me worriedly.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. In fact…” I stood up. “My name is Liz and I’m an orphan,” I stood up and introduced myself like I was in an AA meeting. I tried to look serious but I couldn’t hold back the laughter. Next thing I knew, everyone was laughing hysterically. Even Zack’s dad almost spit his lasagna out.

  Josh was banging his hand wildly on the table. “See, Liz, you fit in here, no problem!”

  “That was a good one,” Patrick commented.

  I looked over at Nathan and gave him a wink. “Touché,” Nathan replied with an approving nod and a wink.

  “I knew my family would loosen you up,” Zack said, slapping me on the butt.

  I sat back down with a smile, proud of myself for my newfound courage and acceptance. I guessed I really had Nathan to thank. We all sat and ate. Mostly the boys talked about fishing. From what I could understand of the angler-speak, they were planning a fishing trip. Kind of a guys’ day out.

  When dinner was over, Zack helped me clear the table. Mr. Bartlett and the other boys headed into the family room to watch a little evening TV again. I was starting to see a daily routine emerging.

  “Don’t wander off too far. I have dessert for you tonight,” I called to them.

  “Dessert? Score!” I heard Josh holler.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. You just tell us when it’s ready and we’ll come a-runnin’,” Mr. Bartlett assured.

  Zack came up from behind me and kissed me on the neck. “You really okay, Liz?” He reached around and gave my belly a little hidden love pat.

  “Yes, I am. Why?” I asked, wondering why it was so hard for him to believe that I was handling everything so well. Was I such a basket case before?

  “You just don’t usually respond so well to conversations about your past.” His words were carefully chosen, trying not to offend.

  “Well, maybe this is a whole new Liz,” I answered with a confident smile and a little eyebrow raise.

  “I think I like this new Liz,” Zack said, grabbing and pulling me closer giving me a kiss.

  I liked the new Liz too. I felt more like myself, here in Maine with all of Zack’s family, than I ever had anywhere else. I was really happy. I felt like I had finally found a place where I fit in. The more I thought about it, the more I liked Zack’s idea of moving back here and raising the baby as a family. That was what it was—I felt like here I had a family. The new Liz had a family.

  “Well, then, why don’t you help new Liz with dessert?” I instructed with a giggle.

  I grabbed the shortbread I had just baked off the cooling rack and mixed up some fresh whipping cream while Zack washed the blueberries. I had discovered on our walk today that blueberries were sort of the Maine fruit. Bushes of wild blueberries grew all over the Bartletts’ property. The path that ran behind the house down through the forest was littered with them.

  I could hear the hooting and hollering of the boys in the family room. It sounded like they were really enjoying the hockey game on TV. I didn’t want to bother them for dessert, so instead of calling them to come get it, Zack and I just brought the plates out to them. I handed Mr. Bartlett and Nathan their blueberry shortcake. Zack served Josh and Patrick.

  “Thank you, my dear,” said Mr. Bartlett.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you so much, you hot thang, you,” Josh told Zack as he served him his dessert.

  “Knock it off, you idiot,” Zack retorted.

  “Aw, don’t act like that or I won’t give you a tip,” Josh cackled.

  “That’s the last time I serve you anything,” Zack replied heatedly.

  “Then I don’t think this is the job for you, beautiful,” Josh jabbed relentlessly.

  “That’s it. You’re going down!” Zack leaped over the edge of the couch and landed on Josh, who was sitting on the floor. The two of them wrestled around for a minute before the other guys got irritated.

  “Settle down,” Mr. Bartlett ordered. “We’re trying to watch a game here.”

  Zack stood up and brushed himself off. Josh grabbed the hat he was wearing out from under the coffee table where it had been tossed and put it back on. I just stood back and watched, laughing to myself. Boys will be boys.

  As soon as the game was over, all the boys headed up to bed. I picked up the dessert dishes and took them into the kitchen. Zack followed behind me.

  “Let me get those for you. You’ve done a lot. Thank you.”

  “I haven’t done a lot, and everything I did do, you helped.”

  “Let me just do this, okay? You sit down.” Zack pulled out a kitchen chair and I sat. He then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. He walked over to the sink and began washing the dessert plates.

  “I really like it here,” I told him. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “I think this was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done, bringing you here. My family adores you. You’ve brought so much life back to this house.”

  “I think they’ve brought a lot of life back to me too.” I felt more alive and clear-headed than I had in my entire life.

  “I really want to marry you, Liz. I want to be able to hold you and call you my wife. I want to be able to tell my dad about the baby. I want to share this with my family. So please decide soon, okay?”

  “Just give me another day or two. Okay?” I begged, positive that I didn’t want any of it to happen this visit.

  “All right, a couple more days. But please decide soon. It’s all I can think about.” Zack’s plea was so heartfelt and pure that I absolutely melted right there in front of him.

  Afraid that my resolve was weakening and I would give into his requests, I quickly excused myself. “I’m going to head up to bed now. I love you.” I said good night as I leaned up on my tiptoes and gave him a kiss.

  “Let me guess, I’m on the couch again,” Zack grumbled.

  “Yep. I’ll see you in the morning.” I winked and blew him a kiss as I started up the stairs.

  “This is ridiculous, Liz. They know we’ve slept together,” Zack called after me.

  “Shhh!
And how would they know that?” I whispered.

  “They’re not stupid.”

  “Zack, please? For me?” I implored, using my best angelic look.

  “Hummph. Okay,” Zack agreed reluctantly as he flopped onto the couch, defeated.

  I ran back down the stairs and leaned over the couch into his face. “Thank you!” I kissed him and ran back up the stairs to the bedroom.

  Trying to fall asleep took me forever. I felt horrible about leaving Zack down there on the couch. It was probably silly and selfish of me. After all, they would find out the truth soon enough. I was just so embarrassed by the whole sleeping-in-the-same-bed thing. I didn’t want Zack’s family to judge me. Deep down I knew they wouldn’t. They weren’t like that—judgmental, I mean. I felt awful punishing Zack, but I was punishing myself as well. I never slept well without him. Maybe I should have let Zack sleep in bed with me—it was his bed, after all. I just couldn’t get used to the idea of his dad’s being okay with it. I didn’t understand how Zack could say that his dad wouldn’t care. I was pretty sure that any parental type would have a problem with it.

  I wished I could ask Caleb what he thought. He was always so levelheaded. Somehow he had found the balance between religion and real life, a balance I just couldn’t maintain. I knew that was what Zack was always complaining about. How I was always hot and cold. He would say that sometimes I would be with him completely, mind, body, and soul. Other times he would complain that my mind and soul were still trapped behind the restrictive religious gates of St. Matthew’s and I was only there physically. I couldn’t understand why I could see it all so clearly now. Why could I only attain the clarity when I was thousands of miles away? Why couldn’t I be like Caleb and have clarity of self all the time, regardless of proximity? Maybe my life growing up had changed me, scarred me somehow. Perhaps I had been brainwashed, like all the reporters said. But truthfully, I didn’t believe that. I believed that about as much as I believed that Zack’s dad wouldn’t care if Zack and I slept in the same bed. It just wasn’t done.

  At five the next morning, I was again woken by a ruckus downstairs, and the routine was established. I again walked groggily downstairs to find leftovers being unmercifully tortured into submission by Mr. Bartlett. Zack and his brothers were once again in the family room, maliciously inflicting their brotherly love on each other. The only exception to the routine was that today, I was the one to be callously teased.

 

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