Free The Other Boy by Hailey Abbott Page B
Authors: Hailey Abbott
curiously. She laughed a little and pretended to brush more grass off her jeans. Why are you acting like a nervous kid, Madeline?
She steadied herself. “What am I looking for?”
He pointed. “Do you see that little bit of white through the trees?” Maddy didn’t respond. She was distracted by the strong line of David’s jaw, sprinkled with a shadow of dark stubble.
He was staring at her too. She dragged her attention back to the tree line. “Oh, yeah, I do.” She strained her eyes to see through a stand of pines farther down the stream. “Kind of.”
“That’s our place. It’s in Jenkins’s field. He’s a farmer—”
“Yeah, I kind of know him, or at least, I know who he is,” Maddy interrupted. “I’ve met his, um, pig.” She didn’t elaborate. David looked perplexed. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, he’s a really nice guy. My dad rented a cottage on his property this winter. He does some maintenance on his tractors and things in return for a cut on the rent.
It’s a pretty small place, but we don’t have a lot of stuff—
you know, two guys alone and everything.”
The obvious question hung in the air, but Maddy didn’t ask it. They sat down again and David poked at the grass with a twig. “My mom lives in L.A. They got divorced when I was little.”
She nodded. “That’s too bad.”
“It’s okay. It was a really long time ago.”
They were quiet for a minute. Maddy changed the subject. “So, where’d you learn to cook?”
“At Mondavi. My dad was the vineyard manager there for years. I was always hanging around the kitchen when I was a little kid, asking for snacks, being annoying.
Finally, the line cooks started giving me stuff to do so I’d quit bothering them. I washed vegetables, but they even-tually let me do some chopping. When I was fifteen they let me come on as an intern.”
Maddy shook her head and shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged. She watched an ant carry a dead beetle through the grass in front of her. “That’s so cool.
I’ve never known a guy my age who could cook, much less liked to.”
David heaved a mock-tired sigh. “I know. My friends call me Emeril, but they’re more than happy to eat whatever I make.”
“I’m a hopeless cook,” Maddy confessed. “I max out at spaghetti and scrambled eggs.”
“I love scrambled eggs,” David said, his hand on his chest. “How did you know that’s my favorite food in the world?”
“Scrambled eggs are your favorite food?”
“Well, no,” David said, grinning a little devilishly.
“Actually, my favorite food is steamed lobster. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
Maddy laughed. “Thanks a lot, jerk!” She shoved him onto the grass. He fell on his side with a thud and curled up in a ball.
“Help!” he moaned to the air in front of him. “Assault!
This girl is beating me up! The only thing that’ll save me is … is … a chocolate-chip cookie!” He continued moaning pitifully.
Maddy couldn’t help laughing at him. “Okay!” she said, half crawling over to the plate of cookies still sitting by the rock where she’d left them this morning. She broke one in half.
“Help! Time is running out!” David, with his eyes still closed, opened his mouth like a fish. Maddy poked in the cookie, stuffing the other half into her own mouth.
He sat up. “Ahh, much better,” he managed through the cookie. Maddy’s phone beeped from the grass between them. “Wow, you’re popular!” He reached across Maddy’s lap and swiped the phone. “Who could this be? Call from Brian—who’s Brian, your boyfriend?”
he teased.
“David, give me that!” In a panic, Maddy grabbed at the phone, but he held it just out of her reach, grinning.
“Hallooo, Pierre’s Auto Repair, who ees dis?” he cried in a high falsetto. He winked at Maddy.
“Stop! Give it to me!” she hissed furiously. David must have seen something change in her face. His grin faded and he handed the phone
She steadied herself. “What am I looking for?”
He pointed. “Do you see that little bit of white through the trees?” Maddy didn’t respond. She was distracted by the strong line of David’s jaw, sprinkled with a shadow of dark stubble.
He was staring at her too. She dragged her attention back to the tree line. “Oh, yeah, I do.” She strained her eyes to see through a stand of pines farther down the stream. “Kind of.”
“That’s our place. It’s in Jenkins’s field. He’s a farmer—”
“Yeah, I kind of know him, or at least, I know who he is,” Maddy interrupted. “I’ve met his, um, pig.” She didn’t elaborate. David looked perplexed. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, he’s a really nice guy. My dad rented a cottage on his property this winter. He does some maintenance on his tractors and things in return for a cut on the rent.
It’s a pretty small place, but we don’t have a lot of stuff—
you know, two guys alone and everything.”
The obvious question hung in the air, but Maddy didn’t ask it. They sat down again and David poked at the grass with a twig. “My mom lives in L.A. They got divorced when I was little.”
She nodded. “That’s too bad.”
“It’s okay. It was a really long time ago.”
They were quiet for a minute. Maddy changed the subject. “So, where’d you learn to cook?”
“At Mondavi. My dad was the vineyard manager there for years. I was always hanging around the kitchen when I was a little kid, asking for snacks, being annoying.
Finally, the line cooks started giving me stuff to do so I’d quit bothering them. I washed vegetables, but they even-tually let me do some chopping. When I was fifteen they let me come on as an intern.”
Maddy shook her head and shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged. She watched an ant carry a dead beetle through the grass in front of her. “That’s so cool.
I’ve never known a guy my age who could cook, much less liked to.”
David heaved a mock-tired sigh. “I know. My friends call me Emeril, but they’re more than happy to eat whatever I make.”
“I’m a hopeless cook,” Maddy confessed. “I max out at spaghetti and scrambled eggs.”
“I love scrambled eggs,” David said, his hand on his chest. “How did you know that’s my favorite food in the world?”
“Scrambled eggs are your favorite food?”
“Well, no,” David said, grinning a little devilishly.
“Actually, my favorite food is steamed lobster. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
Maddy laughed. “Thanks a lot, jerk!” She shoved him onto the grass. He fell on his side with a thud and curled up in a ball.
“Help!” he moaned to the air in front of him. “Assault!
This girl is beating me up! The only thing that’ll save me is … is … a chocolate-chip cookie!” He continued moaning pitifully.
Maddy couldn’t help laughing at him. “Okay!” she said, half crawling over to the plate of cookies still sitting by the rock where she’d left them this morning. She broke one in half.
“Help! Time is running out!” David, with his eyes still closed, opened his mouth like a fish. Maddy poked in the cookie, stuffing the other half into her own mouth.
He sat up. “Ahh, much better,” he managed through the cookie. Maddy’s phone beeped from the grass between them. “Wow, you’re popular!” He reached across Maddy’s lap and swiped the phone. “Who could this be? Call from Brian—who’s Brian, your boyfriend?”
he teased.
“David, give me that!” In a panic, Maddy grabbed at the phone, but he held it just out of her reach, grinning.
“Hallooo, Pierre’s Auto Repair, who ees dis?” he cried in a high falsetto. He winked at Maddy.
“Stop! Give it to me!” she hissed furiously. David must have seen something change in her face. His grin faded and he handed the phone