As You Wish Read online

  “You two are going to die of gas inhalation. Get that window open! Did you turn the chicken? Why haven’t you finished those potatoes?” She threw open the refrigerator door.

  “Where are the lemons I bought yesterday?”

  “Ace—” Uncle Freddy began.

  Olivia put up her hand. “Don’t tell me. Something to do with space demons.” She looked at Mr. Gates. “This afternoon I’m going to give you a list and you’re going to the grocery.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Gates said in exaggerated meekness.

  “Cut it out!” she snapped, and in a flurry of energy, she went back to work.

  It was nearly an hour before she covered the old table with a feast: fried chicken, sliced tomatoes, sautéed zucchini and onions, mashed potatoes, carrots simmered in orange juice. Thanks to an instant vanilla mix, she’d even managed to make a bowl of banana pudding. She told Uncle Freddy to call them in.

  The children, with shiny clean faces, came into the kitchen with a look of wonder. The smells, the heat, the abundance dazzled them.

  Behind them, wearing a blue cotton shirt and full khaki trousers, his hair still damp, was the young man. He had his head down, as though asking permission to enter.

  The kids jumped onto the bench and reached for the platter of chicken, but Mr. Gates’s look stopped them. “You know we always ask the blessing first.”

  Ace started to say something to that, but Uncle Freddy’s glare made him close his mouth.

  “Kit,” Uncle Freddy said as he motioned to a chair, “did you meet Olivia?” Kit took the seat, but as before, he just nodded and didn’t speak.

  After the blessing, Olivia finished putting things on the table and sat down with them.

  She was seated across from the boy and she couldn’t help sneaking glances. Up close, he was extraordinary. He hadn’t shaved so there was whisker stubble on his cheeks and upper lip. His hair was longer than the men she knew, but—She corrected herself. It was longer than the high school boys she saw around town. Was he an afficionado of the Beatles?

  She took a small piece of chicken—shades of Scarlett O’Hara, but she didn’t want to eat like a field hand in front of him.

  The adults were quiet as Letty and Ace told about their latest battle against demons. According to them, this was the third army that had chosen Summer Hill, Virginia, to start their war on the world. Yet again, Mr. Gates told them to stay out of the Tattington cemetery. As he nearly always did, he said how he was going to clean up the place very soon.

  When everyone stopped talking, Olivia looked up. The two men and the children were looking at the tall boy, whose head was bent over his plate. He had a healthy appetite!

  At first, Olivia didn’t know what they were waiting for, but he looked up at Mr. Gates and gave a silent nod. He seemed to be saying that yes, he would take care of the cemetery.

  Olivia couldn’t help frowning. Did the boy know how to talk? She could understand that he was shy. After all, he hadn’t lived long enough to learn too much about the world, but even so, he should make an effort to try to speak in the company of adults.

  When he silently looked back down at his plate, Olivia had a surge of feeling, well, something like being a missionary. She’d help this shy young man get over his fear of strangers. Help him learn how to act like a grown-up man. She’d—

  He lifted his head. For the first time, he looked directly into her eyes.

  What she saw was far away from being shy. She saw heat; she saw fire. He gave her a look like other men had tried to, but couldn’t quite pull off.

  His look was not that of a boy. His eyes were that of a man, full grown, and—She took a breath. Experienced. This was no fumbling virgin of a boy who Olivia was going to teach anything.

  HE KNOWS, she thought. Damn him to hell and back but he knows.

  For a full minute, a film played in her mind. Him mostly naked. Had he done that because he knew a young woman was nearby and probably watching? Ace had “helped” Mr. Gates when Kit arrived in the wee hours. Olivia wouldn’t put it past the child to open her bedroom door and show her off to the newcomer. Sort of like exhibiting a prize pig.

  Even if he hadn’t seen her, Ace would have told about Livie being there. The child had often said that she looked like a movie star.

  So this boy, Kit, had peeled off his clothes to show her the goods on offer—and Olivia had fallen for it. As she remembered how she’d acted, she could feel blood rise to her face.

  She’d very nearly performed Swan Lake in the tomato patch. She’d almost done a Grand Jeté over the three-foot-wide squash plant.

  And he’d seen it all. Worse was that he’d known it was for him. For his viewing pleasure.

  She leaned back in her chair and glared at the top of his head. “Livie?” Uncle Freddy asked. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t take her eyes off Kit’s bent head. She’d always thought of herself as an actress but today she’d failed. How had she not immediately realized that a tall kid who looked like him would know all about women? Back in Maine, he probably had a dozen girlfriends. All of them, no doubt, wearing flannel and rubber boots. And Yankee that he was, he probably thought Southern girls were easy.

  She was sure he knew she was looking at him. Letty was asking how they could make shields to protect themselves from the latest invasion of outer space monsters.

  Mr. Gates looked at Livie. “You know how to make a shield?”

  Olivia didn’t answer. Instead, when the young man set his glass of iced tea down, she moved the big platter of chicken just enough that the glass tipped over. The others didn’t see what she’d done, so it looked like Kit had spilled his tea.

  “It wasn’t me!” Ace yelled.

  Kit looked at Olivia. This time his eyes didn’t have that know-everything look. He seemed to be puzzled, as though asking her why she’d done that.

  Everyone was looking at Olivia. She was the one who usually jumped up and got a cloth to mop up spills. But she just sat there, her eyes on Kit. “I don’t wait on worthless boys,” she said with all the insouciance she could muster.

  For a moment, everyone froze, stunned by Livie’s rudeness. The tea ran off the side of the table and dripped onto the floor. Slowly, acting like he was ancient, Mr. Gates started to get up to get a cloth.

  But Kit unfolded his long body, got a towel off the rack, and wiped up the spill.

  The whole episode had shocked the children into silence. Again, they expected to be sent away.

  After Kit cleaned up the table and the floor, he neatly folded the towel and left the house, the door closing softly behind him.

  The others turned to Livie as though asking for an explanation.

  But she didn’t give one. She stood up and cheerfully said, “Is everyone finished?” She smiled sweetly at the children. “After lunch, why don’t we go out to the big magnolia tree and I’ll make you a couple of shields? Anybody want some banana pudding?”

  Letty and Ace stared at her, eyes wide, barely able to nod yes to all of it.

  Mr. Gates looked across the table at Uncle Freddy. Both of them had twinkling eyes. They’d lived in the same house for many years and they knew what the other was thinking. This was a time for extortion.

  “That boy sure can work,” Mr. Gates said.

  “Best worker I ever saw,” Uncle Freddy said. “I’ll bet he has the cemetery spic and span by nightfall.”

  Livie, a bowl of pudding in her hands, looked at them. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. What was their point?

  Mr. Gates smiled at her. “So, Livie, what kind of soup are we having for supper tonight? Maybe I should go into Richmond to a restaurant supply store and buy cans of Campbell’s by the case.”

  Olivia’s lips tightened.

  “No need to do that,” Uncle Freddy said, his voi