“Is it hot in here?” I said.
“Open a window,” Mom said. “It’ll be the oven.”
I got up and shoved the one behind me open.
I took a deep breath of fresh air before I returned to the table.
“We could do with a hand around the farm if you’re not up to anything,” Pop said.
“Dad!” I said. “He should be resting! He fell out of the sky! He needs time to recuperate.”
Trust my dad to want to take advantage of a spare pair of hands.
“I’m just saying…” he said. “It might be good for you to get some fresh air and do some light work.”
Clint nodded.
“I would love to help out but you’re going to have to give me some pointers. I’m not sure I’ve ever worked on a farm before.”
I snorted.
“You don’t have to worry about that. Pop has always been good at instructing workers, not so much with doing the work himself.”
“That’s because some of us have worked our fingers to the bone!” Pop said. “For years! The body only has so much mileage.”
If that was true, Pop was a space shuttle that’d been to the moon and back.
Multiple times.
I didn’t say anything.
He could be quite touchy about how his body had begun to deteriorate with age.
Dessert was home-made apple pie with rich creamy custard.
“Have you ever had apple pie before, Clint?” Mom said.
I sighed audibly, and groaned:
“Mom! What did I just tell you about his amnesia?”
“Alright, alright. You never know. Maybe his taste buds will remind him of something.”
Clint ate a slice and melted into his chair.
It was just the response Mom was hoping for.
“Good?” she said, fishing for more compliments.
“Amazing. Maybe I have had apple pie and custard before but I can tell you I’ve never had any that tasted this good.”
Mom beamed like a small child.
“Then let me go get you a second helping!”
“Mom!” I said. “He hasn’t finished the first one yet! He hasn’t even finished his first mouthful!”
“He will by the time I get back. And it always tastes better when it’s steaming hot.”
Clint bent down to scoop more onto his spoon.
As he placed it on his tongue, the flavors zipped up through his nervous system and sent shivers through his body.
He glanced up and noticed me looking at him.
He wore a big smile, making his cheeks bulge.
I wonder if he eats everything with such relish…
My cheeks burned so brightly I considered putting the custard on them to cool down.
When I looked up at him again, he was still looking at me, the dessert forgotten, a new hunger in his gleaming golden eyes now.
I couldn’t meet those eyes.
In all my years in the city, with the various men I’d dated, not one had made me feel shy like that.
I ate my first spoon of apple pie and custard and brazenly licked my lips, my eyes fastened on him.
“Mm,” I said. “That is tasty.”
We looked at each other so hard I thought if I reached up, I could have touched the bond between us.
It disintegrated the moment Mom came back in the room, the kitchen door swinging shut behind her.
“Here it comes!” she said.
She placed the second helping—twice the size of the original!—beside Clint’s first bowl.
“What about me?” Pop said. “Don’t I get a second helping?”
Mom sniffed.
“You know where the kitchen is.”
Pop grumbled as he got to his feet and marched through the door.
Second helpings sounded like a good idea, I thought.
Right after I got my first taste, of course.
I hadn’t felt this upbeat in years.
I could get used to it.
Ras
It’s hard to work when your belly’s stuffed with delicious food.
But it didn’t seem to bother Isabella’s father, Benjamin, much.
He moved with the grace of a man who knew every inch of his farm by heart.
He pinned the barn doors back and headed inside.
Arranged in long rows were a series of bizarre-looking machines with pipes attached to a dome.
“We need to bring the ladies in so we can milk them,” Benjamin said.
“The ladies?” I said, confused. “You want to put Isabella and Esme in these machines?”
I couldn’t imagine they could produce much milk, surely not enough to fill the large containers…
Benjamin was silent for a moment before bending over and slapping his knee, his face screwed up tight.
He clutched his stomach in his hands and rocked back and forth.
“Are you all right?” I said. “Do you need medical assistance?”
Benjamin waved a hand, dispelling my concerns.
“You’d best not let them hear you say what you did. I would be castrated for even thinking such a thing! Although the thought has crossed my mind during the leaner months…”
He slapped me on the back and wheezed with mirth.
I still didn’t understand.
If they weren’t the ladies, who were?
All became clear when he led me into the field behind the barn.
A dozen large creatures with bulging bellies Isabella had introduced me to that morning picked at the grass at their feet and didn’t so much as turn in our direction.
I didn’t have a name for them.
It wasn’t the first time I found myself at a loss for what I ought to call something on this farm.
Much was still unknown to me.
It still confused me I didn’t know the most basic things.
Surely I should have known the names of these animals?
Had the crash rattled my brain somehow?
And if it did, would I ever get that knowledge back again?
Why hadn’t my friends or family or colleagues come to find me?
It was one confusing question after another and I didn’t have an answer for any of it.
One of the cows—that was what Benjamin called them—approached and nuzzled my shoulder.
Her head was big and her nostrils snorted as she looked wondrously up at me.
I smiled and ran my hand over her short hair and the soft skin of her nose.
Her ears flapped and the bell chimed calmly as she shook her head.
“She likes you.”
Isabella drew up alongside me and fussed the cow on the other side of her thick neck.
“How can you tell?” I said.
“It’s easy when you know what to look for.”
Her
