“We have pears and plums.” Lareina nodded her head toward Nick. “And potatoes.”
He pushed his hair back and held his grimy hands up, palms out. “I dug them with my bare hands. It took hours, and Rochelle didn’t help.” He feigned exhaustion and flopped onto the deck.
She hauled the bag up three stairs and let it rest next to his head. With her hands on her hips, she shook her head. He grinned up at her, his bruise and stitches invisible beneath layers of dirt, his hair sprawled around his head like the rays of a cartoon sun.
Aaron smiled. “That’s amazing. We’ll have a feast tonight.” Nick put one hand under his head. “When is supper, anyway?”
“Go take a shower.” She took his other hand and pulled him into a sitting position. “Then I’ll cut your hair. Then we’ll have supper.”
He stood a
