Ink and Ice, Erin McRae [primary phonics .txt] 📗

Katie and Brendan’s Farm

THAT FRIDAY NIGHT AARON and Charlotte drove out to Katie and Brendan’s farm, Charlotte at the wheel and Aaron in the passenger seat with their contribution to dinner—a giant fruit salad—on his lap. Signs of the city faded away, and soon they were in the midst of cow country. Green fields stretched as far as the eye could see, broken occasionally by a farmhouse, barn, or line of trees. This warm world of green and heat seemed worlds away from the eternal winter of the rink. Aaron rolled the windows down and inhaled deep lungfuls of summer air.

Eventually they turned onto a gravel road, which they followed for nearly half a mile before they reached Katie and Brendan’s house. There were no other buildings around, except for the barns beyond it. The house itself was small and in need of a coat of paint, but tiger lilies bloomed thickly around the front porch and a hammock swung between two trees in the yard. It looked like a daydream of a bucolic childhood. Aaron loved it all; it was the most home-like place he’d ever been off the islands. Not just because of the place itself, but because of all the hard work that was always happening here.

“Huy’s back,” Charlotte said, pointing to a gray car with a ‘keep calm and figure skate’ bumper sticker in the rear window.

“Ooh, yay!” But while Aaron was genuinely excited to see Huy, his car wasn’t the one he had an eye out for. Zack’s rental wasn’t there yet, which was disappointing but also probably for the best; it wouldn’t have been fair to make him face the others on his own.

Nobody answered Aaron’s first knock at the door, but at the second came a distant shout from Katie.

“It’s open! Come in!”

Inside, the house was in a pleasant state of not-quite-perfectly clean. Shoes were jumbled on a mat by the door. A sweater was tossed over the back of the couch, and blankets and throw pillows were piled on an armchair like someone had started to put them to rights but been interrupted.

The afternoon sun outside was muted by drawn shades, which gave the whole place an air of sleepy warmth until they got to the kitchen, where the windows were open, music was playing, and Brendan and Katie were moving around each other with practiced ease as they made food.

"Put me to work?" Aaron offered as soon as he and Charlotte entered the kitchen. He set their fruit salad down on the counter.

"You don't get enough of that during the week?" Katie looked amused. Her hands moved quickly as she chopped vegetables, but there was an air of relaxation about her here at the farm that there never was at the rink.

"He does not know what a day off means," Charlotte said, opening the refrigerator and helping herself to a seltzer. At Katie and Brendan's, no one stood on ceremony.

"Neither do you," Katie observed.

“And neither do you,” Brendan said fondly, bumping Katie’s hip as he passed behind her with a bucket full of corn soaking for the grill.

"I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Charlotte observed placidly.

Katie narrowed her eyes at both of them. “You’re supposed to be good influences on each other. Not egging each other on in bad decisions. Do I have to give you the Perils of Overtraining speech again?”

Aaron raised both hands. “No, I swear!”

Personally, he didn’t think he could fit in more work even if he wanted to. Since he’d gotten back to TCI he’d spent his waking hours either at the rink, at the gym with his trainer, or at the yoga studio. At home, he had hours of accounting work to do remotely for the restaurant, plus cooking and cleaning and doing laundry; Charlotte had a devoted social media fanbase and insisted that their apartment always be clean enough to photograph. Things were only going to get busier as the season truly got under way.

“Where’s Huy?” Charlotte asked, perching herself on one of the stools in the little breakfast nook. “We saw his car.”

“Out getting the grill started.”

“And your houseguests?”

“Still here. But doing things so they don’t have to deal with all of you.”

“But we’re charming!” Aaron protested. He’d seen the guests in question—Fitz and Gabe—around the rink a few times recently, and had hoped they’d be here tonight. He was always vaguely fascinated that Katie and Brendan had lives and friends outside of figure skating; he couldn’t figure out how they had acquired them.

“Actually,” Brendan said. “Gabe’s out working on the cow cam.”

Katie gave an exasperated sigh. “I thought he’d finished that yesterday.”

“He likes to tinker,” Brendan said.

A knock sounded from the front door.

Katie frowned at Brendan. “Who else is coming? The juniors have that thing for the federation and Morgan and Sam are away for the weekend...”

Brendan looked equally as baffled, but headed for the door. “Maybe Fitz left his keys?”

Katie shook her head. “Unlikely.”

Aaron shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Which Katie immediately noticed. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s up?”

“Wellllll,” he began. “How do you feel about extra dinner guests?”

From the front door there was the sound of footsteps and Brendan's voice—polite, yet surprised—inviting whoever was there to come in.

Another familiar voice answered him, and Aaron smiled.

"Aaron Sheftall." Katie chided him.

"Yes?" He tried to look innocent, but was certain he merely looked giddy and guilty instead.

"Did you invite the journalist to dinner at my house?"

“It’s a dinner at the farm; this is the kind of life stuff he’s here to write about!” He wasn’t worried that Katie was going to kick Zack out. But he did want her to stop giving him the murder eyes.

“Now you choose to be strategic.” Katie still looked more dismayed than Aaron thought the situation warranted.

"We’re right here, under your watchful eye. Unlike with the coffee. Plus, Brendan said it was okay.".

"He did?"

"I did?" Brendan echoed as he walked into the room, Zack right behind him. "What did