I snapped my fingers, pointing to the house. “Not before you wash your hands.”
Gennie trudged toward the white farmhouse on the other side of the gravel drive, still muttering about the chickens. Once the door banged shut behind her, I said to Shay, “She’s working through some stuff. She’s had a tough few years.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She tucked her hair over her ear.
“She’s my sister’s kid,” I said because I was fully incapable of keeping anything to myself when I had Shay’s attention trained on me. “Eva is Gennie’s mother but Gennie lives here now. With me. I adopted her last fall.”
Shay gave a slow nod. She didn’t ask any of the follow-up questions that everyone else liked to harp on, like where was Gennie’s mom and why wasn’t she with her child and what about the father? She just met my gaze without an ounce of judgment and asked, “Is she okay? Eva?”
My shoulders sagged before I could stop myself. “No. She’s not. But Gennie’s here now and things are getting better. Slowly. If you ignore everything you just heard from her.”
My sister was a little more than two years older than me and Shay, and she’d already left home when Shay came to town. If it was possible, Eva had been even more motivated to get the hell out of Friendship than anyone else.
Shay gave another slow nod. “That’s a lot of stuff. For both of you.”
The problem with Shay was there was no way to resist her. Even with all the resentment in the world fortifying me, I was defenseless against a few kind words and a sympathetic smile. She’d always had an ability to make people feel special. More than special—chosen. For once, I knew better than to fall into that trap.
“Yeah,” I managed. “The profanity is part of the package.”
She gave a quick bob of her head as if this was completely expected. “Is Gennie getting help to work through it?”
I barked out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Tons of therapy. We go to Providence twice a week to see a therapist and she works with some specialists during school hours too.” Despite my better judgment, I added, “School is difficult for her. She missed a lot during”—I glanced at the house, shrugged—“everything that happened. You’ve seen how she behaves so it hasn’t been easy. They want her to repeat kindergarten.”
“Oh, shit,” she said under her breath.
“Yeah, that was Gennie’s take on it too.”
“The emotional impact would be worse than any academic deficits,” Shay said. “You can’t let that happen, Noah.”
“Trust me, I’m working on it,” I snapped, now regretting that I’d shared so much. I didn’t need input from anyone else on this. I already had more than enough.
“Is there any possibility of her being promoted or is this a done deal?”
I lifted the shoulder carrying Gennie’s backpack. “Summer school was the last-ditch effort. She was kicked out after asking the teacher if they’d be doing boring shit again today.”
Gennie barreled out of the house then and sprinted toward the barn while screaming, “Goin’ to get the kitties now!”
“Only if they want you to get them,” I called after her. “You will not win a fight with barn cats.” We watched her streak by, dust and gravel flying behind her. I glanced over at Shay. “When she first came here, she wouldn’t go anywhere near the animals. Cried her head off when she got within fifty feet of a goat. Now she’ll grab frogs right out of the pond. Bare hands.”
Gennie emerged from the barn, her arms overflowing with annoyed cat. “This one is Brownie,” she announced, “because she’s brown. I couldn’t find Blackie but that’s okay because she’s a hunter and yesterday she had pieces of—”
“Let’s not tell Shay that story,” I interrupted. “Not everyone needs the details of Blackie’s catch of the day.”
Shay gave me a small smile and mouthed “Thanks.”
“Just a few minutes with Brownie,” I said, watching the cat squirming in Gennie’s hold. “You’ve been all over the farm this afternoon, kid, but we need to get you fed and washed and ready for bed.”
“Bedtimes are bullshit,” she murmured to the cat. “’Specially in the summer.”
“And I should head back to Twin Tulip,” Shay said, taking a step away from us. “I haven’t unpacked yet and—wait, where am I?”
“This is our new house,” Gennie said. “It’s away from the farm stand and the old house because Noah values his privacy.”
Shay swallowed a laugh. “Hmm. Yeah.”
“We’ll walk you back,” I offered.
“Shay can have dinner with us,” Gennie said.
