She figured it was a rhetorical question. She tried to adjust her thinking about the McKnight family. Like everyone else, she considered them picture-perfect, living the American dream. “You’re just lucky to have a dad,” she told him.
“Right.” He snorted.
“Sometimes I want a father so much, I’d even take a mean one,” she stated.
“Then you’re crazy.”
“Am not. I was once bitten by a dog,” she said, “and it turns out the reason the dog was mean was that it was abused.”
“A dog doesn’t know any better.”
“I’m just saying, there might be a reason. When people get hurt, they turn mean.” Or they just turn and run. She thought that might have happened to her mother.
He glared at her, and she saw that scary flash of temper he sometimes exhibited. Too bad, she thought. She wasn’t backing down. “How did we get on this topic?” she asked him. “All I wanted was—” She hesitated. Could she say it? Could she tell him? “I wanted you to kiss me. I still do.”
A soft sound came from him, a sort of groan. “No,” he said, “you don’t.” Then he stalked away, striding right out into the rain, not even hunching his shoulders in the downpour.
Jenny felt stupid. Tears smarted in her eyes. She hated Rourke McKnight. She would hate him forever. With that thought firm in her mind, she waited for the rain to stop, and then went to help her grandfather. As they finished the delivery, the sun came out again, and a rainbow arched over Willow Lake.
She walked around the side of the panel van and there was Joey Santini, waiting for her, a smile on his face. They spent a few minutes talking and laughing about nothing at all, and she reintroduced him to her grandfather.
Grandpa beamed approvingly as Joey shook his hand and said all the right things, like how much he liked Gram’s maple bars.
Thank God for Joey. He made her feel content and valued, and he was never on the verge of exploding. She was so comfortable with him. He never made her feel awkward or stupid. He never made her feel like crying.
The next night, she and Nina went up to Camp Kioga for the Fourth of July fireworks display at Willow Lake. And Joey made his move. A group of kids was sitting together on a blanket at the lakeshore, and he pressed his shoulder close to hers, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said.
Jenny didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she wanted that or not. And even as Joey was scooting closer to her, she glanced over at Rourke. He stood nearby with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his shorts. He was staring at her with the oddest expression on his face. She tried to ask him with her eyes if there was a chance for them, but either he didn’t get the message, or he didn’t care. Then he easily slipped his arm around some girl’s waist and leaned down to whisper in her ear until she giggled.
* * *
Rourke hoped it had worked. He’d spent half the evening with the Giggler. He couldn’t really remember her name, but he needed her. He didn’t know what else to do. Jenny was starting to fall for him; he’d fallen for her long past, but he couldn’t let that matter. Joey liked her, he had from day one and there was no way Rourke would take that away from Joey. Rourke just needed to make Jenny believe he was a son of a bitch, which according to his father, he was. Then she’d stop liking him and start liking Joey, which was the way things were supposed to be. Joey deserved her in a way Rourke never would. Joey knew just how to treat a girl like Jenny. He didn’t feel as though someone had set him on fire, the way Rourke did, burning with feelings so intense they would consume them both.
For the rest of the summer, he made sure she saw him with any number of girls. Just to remind her—he was a son of a bitch, and she was better off with Joey.
Food for Thought
BY JENNY MAJESKY
Happy Cake
Here’s something I bet you never noticed. But once I point it out, you’ll never fail to notice it again. A small, family-owned bakery is a happy place. Think about it. When was the last time you walked into a bakery and found a cranky person? It just doesn’t happen. The people behind the counter are cheerful. The customers are cheerful. Even the sounds and the smells of the place—totally cheerful.
I bet if a study was done on the air quality of a bakery, pheromones would be found. One of the happiest recipes in my grandmother’s arsenal is this one. It’s actually a pound cake, but Gram created a neologism for it: Szcze´ssliwe ciastko. Roughly translated into English, that means—you already guessed it, didn’t you? “Happy Cake.” This is distinguished by its sunny yellow color and by the fact that it’s impossible to eat a slice and not feel happy.
HAPPY CAKE
1 pound cake flour (3 cups)
1 pound eggs (about six)
1 pound (4 sticks) unsalted butter, softened (don’t substitute)
1 pound (about 2-¼ cups) sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup buttermilk
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease and flour Bundt or tube pan. Beat butter until light and gradually add sugar, vanilla and then eggs, one at a time. With mixer on low, add buttermilk. Sift together all the dry ingredients and add slowly. Pour batter into pan and bake for about 1 hour and 20 minutes, until a thin blade or toothpick comes out clean. Allow cake to cool 15 or 20 minutes in pan. Then gently remove it, and serve at room temperature with fresh fruit or lemon curd. Makes 12 generous servings.
CHAPTER EIGHT
All of Jenny’s
