Craving Resurrection
Page 3
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I was walking home, counting down the 128 days until my eighteenth birthday and wondering how I could save enough cash to get my ass back onto US soil, when a voice called out to me from the steps just a few houses down from the one we were renting.
“Would ye like to come in for tea?”
I didn’t realize at first that the woman was talking to me. I’d never seen her before in my life, but when she repeated the question, my head popped up from behind my hair and she was staring straight at me.
“Me?”
“Well, I don’t see anyone else, do ye?”
I searched the quiet street in confusion, but she was right. We were the only ones in the general vicinity. I can’t lie, the first thing that popped into my head was ‘Stranger Danger!’ which was ridiculous, seeing as how the woman was inches shorter than me and skinny as a rail. I could totally take her. But why the hell was she inviting me to her house?
I stepped closer to her as she sat patiently, and I couldn’t help but smile back at her when she grinned. She was cute, probably a bit older than my parents, with wrinkles at the edges of her eyes and deep grooves in her cheeks. Although she was smiling almost ear-to-ear, she looked… lonely. There was an exhaustion to her that didn’t come from a hard day at work, but from a lifetime of hard days at work.
“Do you normally ask strangers to eat at your house?” I questioned as I got closer.
“Ach, no! But I’ve seen ye around. Always with yer head in a book, always hidin’ behind that hair a yers.”
I snorted at her very apt description.
“Always had a snack for my boy when he got home from school. Young ones need that after a hard day. Thought I’d offer ye the same, if ye’d like.”
“I’m old enough to forage for my own food,” I said with a smile, thinking geez, she’s nice. “And I don’t even know your name!”
“Peg,” she answered with raised brows, waiting for me to reply in kind.
“I’m Amy. Nice to meet you, Peg.”
We both grew silent after that, at a standstill as I considered her odd request and she watched me like a hawk.
“Well,” she huffed, finally breaking the awkward silence. “How about ye make an old woman’s day and give me someone to eat with?”
I knew what she was doing, trying to make me think that feeding me wasn’t about me at all, but that didn’t stop me from nodding slowly. “You’re not that old,” I argued. “But…okay, if you’re sure.”
I wondered if she knew more about my life than she was letting on as I followed her into the tiny house, but it occurred to me pretty quickly that it didn’t really matter. My parents wouldn’t be home from work for hours still, so it’s not as if I had anyone to miss me. Plus, she seemed really nice. I’d learned over the past seventeen and a half years how to spot people with ulterior motives—it’s all in the eyes—and she really didn’t have any other reason for inviting me in. She was clearly hoping for a little companionship, and who was I to refuse that? I didn’t have anywhere else to be.
I learned a lot about Peg as we ate, mostly because the woman was a chatterbox. I actually kind of loved how she filled the quiet, because God knows I didn’t have much to say. She was Scottish, which explained the accent that wasn’t entirely like the ones I’d been hearing, but she’d been living in Ireland for more than twenty years, so it was an odd mixture of both Irish and Scottish. She’d followed her husband to his hometown after their wedding, and though I never got a clear answer, it seemed she was still married, but they hadn’t lived together for quite some time. Their son, Patrick, who Peg seemed to think walked on water, was away at University studying literature, and she’d worked at a local grocer for almost as long as she’d lived in Ireland.
She talked and talked and talked, and before I knew it, almost two hours had passed. I knew my mother would be home any minute, and though I didn’t think she would even notice my absence, I didn’t want to chance it. Who knows how badly she’d fly off the handle if she knew I hadn’t gone straight home from school. My parents had never had clear rules for me, but every once in a while, I’d unintentionally do something that would set them off and the punishments were severe.
“I better get home,” I said reluctantly, cutting Peg off as she went on and on about her handsome son. “My mom should be home soon, and she’d worry if I wasn’t there yet.”
Peg’s brows furrowed for a moment as if she knew exactly what I wasn’t saying, but almost as quickly as the frown appeared, it was gone and she was smiling brightly.
“Well, this has been lovely,” she said as we stood from the table. “Would ye like to come again tomorrow?”
I grabbed my school bag off the floor, thinking about my answer before turning back toward her. “I’d like that.”
“Perhaps tomorrow ye can tell me a little more about yerself. Seems I didn’t let ye get a word in edgewise today!”
“I didn’t mind.” I replied shyly, my cheeks heating as I realized she’d noticed that I’d barely said a word the entire afternoon.
“I’ll see ye tomorrow, lass!” she called as I raced down her cement front steps.
I made my way home with fifteen minutes to spare before my mom walked in the front door, and was quietly doing my homework on my bed when she came to check on me.
My mother was beautiful. She made sure of that, with weekly trips to salons and daily workouts to stay trim. But it was a brittle type of beauty, one that looked as if one wrong movement would shatter the entire façade. I think the shit her and my father snorted up their noses had something to do with that.
“Would ye like to come in for tea?”
I didn’t realize at first that the woman was talking to me. I’d never seen her before in my life, but when she repeated the question, my head popped up from behind my hair and she was staring straight at me.
“Me?”
“Well, I don’t see anyone else, do ye?”
I searched the quiet street in confusion, but she was right. We were the only ones in the general vicinity. I can’t lie, the first thing that popped into my head was ‘Stranger Danger!’ which was ridiculous, seeing as how the woman was inches shorter than me and skinny as a rail. I could totally take her. But why the hell was she inviting me to her house?
I stepped closer to her as she sat patiently, and I couldn’t help but smile back at her when she grinned. She was cute, probably a bit older than my parents, with wrinkles at the edges of her eyes and deep grooves in her cheeks. Although she was smiling almost ear-to-ear, she looked… lonely. There was an exhaustion to her that didn’t come from a hard day at work, but from a lifetime of hard days at work.
“Do you normally ask strangers to eat at your house?” I questioned as I got closer.
“Ach, no! But I’ve seen ye around. Always with yer head in a book, always hidin’ behind that hair a yers.”
I snorted at her very apt description.
“Always had a snack for my boy when he got home from school. Young ones need that after a hard day. Thought I’d offer ye the same, if ye’d like.”
“I’m old enough to forage for my own food,” I said with a smile, thinking geez, she’s nice. “And I don’t even know your name!”
“Peg,” she answered with raised brows, waiting for me to reply in kind.
“I’m Amy. Nice to meet you, Peg.”
We both grew silent after that, at a standstill as I considered her odd request and she watched me like a hawk.
“Well,” she huffed, finally breaking the awkward silence. “How about ye make an old woman’s day and give me someone to eat with?”
I knew what she was doing, trying to make me think that feeding me wasn’t about me at all, but that didn’t stop me from nodding slowly. “You’re not that old,” I argued. “But…okay, if you’re sure.”
I wondered if she knew more about my life than she was letting on as I followed her into the tiny house, but it occurred to me pretty quickly that it didn’t really matter. My parents wouldn’t be home from work for hours still, so it’s not as if I had anyone to miss me. Plus, she seemed really nice. I’d learned over the past seventeen and a half years how to spot people with ulterior motives—it’s all in the eyes—and she really didn’t have any other reason for inviting me in. She was clearly hoping for a little companionship, and who was I to refuse that? I didn’t have anywhere else to be.
I learned a lot about Peg as we ate, mostly because the woman was a chatterbox. I actually kind of loved how she filled the quiet, because God knows I didn’t have much to say. She was Scottish, which explained the accent that wasn’t entirely like the ones I’d been hearing, but she’d been living in Ireland for more than twenty years, so it was an odd mixture of both Irish and Scottish. She’d followed her husband to his hometown after their wedding, and though I never got a clear answer, it seemed she was still married, but they hadn’t lived together for quite some time. Their son, Patrick, who Peg seemed to think walked on water, was away at University studying literature, and she’d worked at a local grocer for almost as long as she’d lived in Ireland.
She talked and talked and talked, and before I knew it, almost two hours had passed. I knew my mother would be home any minute, and though I didn’t think she would even notice my absence, I didn’t want to chance it. Who knows how badly she’d fly off the handle if she knew I hadn’t gone straight home from school. My parents had never had clear rules for me, but every once in a while, I’d unintentionally do something that would set them off and the punishments were severe.
“I better get home,” I said reluctantly, cutting Peg off as she went on and on about her handsome son. “My mom should be home soon, and she’d worry if I wasn’t there yet.”
Peg’s brows furrowed for a moment as if she knew exactly what I wasn’t saying, but almost as quickly as the frown appeared, it was gone and she was smiling brightly.
“Well, this has been lovely,” she said as we stood from the table. “Would ye like to come again tomorrow?”
I grabbed my school bag off the floor, thinking about my answer before turning back toward her. “I’d like that.”
“Perhaps tomorrow ye can tell me a little more about yerself. Seems I didn’t let ye get a word in edgewise today!”
“I didn’t mind.” I replied shyly, my cheeks heating as I realized she’d noticed that I’d barely said a word the entire afternoon.
“I’ll see ye tomorrow, lass!” she called as I raced down her cement front steps.
I made my way home with fifteen minutes to spare before my mom walked in the front door, and was quietly doing my homework on my bed when she came to check on me.
My mother was beautiful. She made sure of that, with weekly trips to salons and daily workouts to stay trim. But it was a brittle type of beauty, one that looked as if one wrong movement would shatter the entire façade. I think the shit her and my father snorted up their noses had something to do with that.
