Pippa looked like she might cry. “How will I watchPeppa Pig?”
Wendell did not know who Peppa Pig was, and he didn’t want to get sidetracked by streaming services. “Why don’t you two go see Raddy while I make us some dinner?”
Pippa stared at him. “What’s for dinner?”
Wendell smiled. “I got some pork chops at the market this morning. How’s that sound?”
Both girls wrinkled their noses. “Uh, we don’t eat pork.”
“Oh.” No one had told him that. “I suppose you don’t like lamb, then?” he asked hopefully.
Pippa slapped a hand across her mouth. “You eat lambs?”
“Not lambs. Lamb.” Though what was the difference, really? “Okay, so we’ll skip the chops tonight.” He hurried into the kitchen and scanned the fridge. “Do we eat chicken?”
Both girls shouted back: “Is it white-meat chicken breast?” and “I like it with gravy.”
Wendell sighed and made a mental note. They’d have to sit down at some point and figure out meals. “How about spaghetti?”
To his great relief, both said yes.
After dinner, they went on a walk around the property. Wendell showed them his mother’s perennial beds surrounding the farmhouse. “My mom would’ve liked this,” Julia mused. Pippa was excited to visit Raddy, and Wendell was relieved that they’d gotten through dinner and almost to her bedtime without issue. But when they went back indoors, she started to look unsure.
“Are you okay, Pippa?” he asked.
She looked to Julia, her eyes wide and sad. “What’s wrong?” Julia said.
Pippa didn’t want to say. She whispered in Julia’s ear while Wendell waited. This was not a good sign.
“She’s tired,” Julia explained, but Wendell could tell that wasn’t what Pippa had shared.
“I’ve got ice cream,” Wendell suggested. He’d intended to save that for tomorrow, but it was becoming clear that he needed to pull out all the stops on their first night.
The ice cream worked and they ate together in the parlor.Wendell let the girls take the rocking chairs by the fireplace and he perched on the edge of the couch.
“Is that an antique?” Julia asked.
“Actually, it is. It was my grandmother’s.”
Julia nodded and looked around. “Is this whole house antique?”
Wendell followed her gaze. He’d always thought of his house as homey and well appointed. His father had been a simple man who’d grown up in the farmhouse with simple furnishings, but his mother’s eclectic urban touch had electrified it with pops of color and interest. But as his eyes traveled over the parlor room and beyond, into the kitchen, Wendell understood the question. The parlor was a dated formal wallpaper. The Oriental rug was a bit shabby and worn, its mahogany and gold colors faded. The bookshelves were lined with dusty hardbacks, books that Wendell hadn’t read or touched since his own childhood. And the kitchen—well, it was straight out of the eighties. “I guess you could say that,” he allowed. “It’s an old house,” he reminded them.
“Yeah. But so is ours.”
That was true. Julia’s great-grandfather had built theirs probably not long after Wendell’s house had been built. But what a difference on the interiors. The White Pines house was open and airy, painted in pale earth tones and white trim. The lighting fixtures were modern; the furniture was crisp and white and plush in its newness. The chestnut floors had been redone and gleamed in the sunlight that spilled through the windows. Wendell looked around at his farmhouse, which also had large windows, but the drapes were heavy and dark. For a beat he felt a little ashamed. And then protective. “Do you not feel comfortable here?”
Pippa tried to stretch out on his mother’s Victorian fainting couch. “It’s nice,” she said. But her face contorted as she switched positions until she gave up. The house was not, Wendell realized with some consternation, a kid-friendly house.
Suddenly, he was very tired. “Well, at least your rooms are done up really nice. Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed.”
Julia frowned. “It’s only eight thirty.”
“What time do you go to bed?”
“Ten. Pippa goes down around now, though.”
Wendell brightened. “I figured since it’s your first night, and you’re sharing a room, maybe this once you can go to bed a little earlier so she feels comfortable. You could read. Or… look at your phone a bit?”
