Chapter 11
“Beau!” Aunt Lucy said, dumping a spoonful of turnips on his plate. “You can’t not eat your turnips, boy! What have they been teaching you at school? Turnips are lucky!”
“Turnips are yucky,” he muttered under his breath. His cousin Kate held her plate out to him as he passed, wordless, and he scraped the turnips off onto hers. Strange woman. She even liked asparagus. They’d grown up together and Beau was always grateful for her desire to eat just about any vegetable.
As usual, the tables were split across three rooms—it used to only be two, but then the “kids” started having kids of their own, and things got crowded. Beau’d never quite found the right place, however. He was too old to be sitting with the toddlers, with his four-year-old second cousin tossing slices of cucumbe
