Bend in the Road
Page 18
“How do you know how much money Elise makes? You know, she wasn’t a film star when they met and fell in love. They both worked hard to get where they are today and had to overcome some serious obstacles besides their addictions. It’s a tough business.”
“But why would someone like Gabe be interested in me? Hypothetically. And let’s say—hypothetically—that we have a relationship. What happens when he gets bored and packs up for LA and he and Chris decide to sell? How would I deal with a broken heart when his face is everywhere?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says. “Let’s back up a little. First of all, here’s why anyone, famous or not, would be interested in you. Because you’re smart and determined and you stand up for what you believe in. You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside.”
I laugh. “Are you required to say that because you’re my mother?”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Please don’t ever assume you’re going to get your heart broken. That shouldn’t be your default setting. Life is short, Juniper. Every day with the people we love is a gift. Your dad and I met in junior high. We started dating when I was a junior and he was a senior. I’m grateful for every single day I had with him.”
I snuggle in closer, tightening my arms around her waist in a hug. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, sweetie. Why don’t you get some sleep?” she says. “Maybe things will seem clearer in the morning.”
Maybe. After I go to bed, though, I lie awake and think about Gabe. I analyze every interaction we’ve had since he came to Minnesota, looking for evidence that he could truly have feelings for me beyond friendship.
As I’m finally about to drift off to sleep, my phone buzzes. I lift it from the bedside table to read the display.
Gabe: You promised me a hike. How about tomorrow morning?
I grin.
Me: You’re on. Meet me at the greenhouse at 9.
Chapter Thirty-One
GABE
Saturday morning, I’m up early, almost as early as those obnoxious birds squawking outside my window. I make breakfast for myself and Chris, wash dishes, and throw in a load of laundry. All this before eight.
“What’s gotten into you?” Chris asks. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his second cup of coffee and the old Spin magazine I found in his desk drawer, reliving the glory days of the Replacements.
“I’m taking Juniper on an adventure today.”
He snorts. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the words Juniper and adventure in the same sentence. Good luck with that.”
Juniper’s already in the greenhouse when I arrive at 8:57, sweeping up a pile of dirt and leaves near the door.
“Hi, Blue,” I say, grinning.
“Hey,” she says. “I’ll be ready in a minute. It’s a beautiful day. The overlook should be so pretty today.”
“We’re not going to the overlook today.”
She looks at me like I’ve sprouted horns. “Aren’t we hiking?”
“We are. But not to the overlook. Not in the park reserve.”
“But it’s Saturday morning. And if I don’t have to work, I hike to the overlook.” She’s starting to sound a little panicky, so I put my hands on her shoulders.
“Today, we’re doing something different. Can I drive your car?”
“Can you drive my car?” she repeats. “Wh-why?”
“Because we’re going to hike a different trail today, and it’s out of town. So let’s hit the road.”
She shakes her head. “Gabe, I don’t think I . . .”
“You don’t think you what? Can try something new?” I keep my tone gentle, but she still gets her back up, her face pinched, eyes narrowed as she works up her response.
“I was going to say that I don’t think I have time for a hike out of town today.” She puts her hands on her hips. “So quick to jump to conclusions.”
“I thought you were off this weekend.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m not busy. I have to get ready for the farmers’ market tomorrow.”
“I see,” I say, but I don’t think she’s telling me the truth.
“You think I’m making excuses?” she asks. She pulls open the greenhouse door with a huff.
I follow her out. “I’m only saying that it seems like you’re hesitant to try new things, to step out of your comfort zone. Would that be accurate?”
“You sound like my mother. I happen to like hiking to the overlook, OK?”
“OK, OK.” I throw up my hands in defeat. “Show me the overlook.”
The hike—across the Hudson property, into the park, and up a gradual incline—takes less than fifteen minutes. Juniper’s no casual hiker. She means business. By the time we make it to the crest of the trail, a bit muddy and covered in wet leaves, I’m breathing heavily, and Juniper seems to have mellowed out.
“Welcome to the overlook,” she says, and twirls with her arms outstretched. “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to get you here.”
It’s pretty, I’ll give her that. Most of the leaves have fallen, so the trees are dingy and bare. The view across the river is cool. I can see the round barn and the farmhouse. But there’s nothing especially spectacular about the view.
“This is my favorite place,” she says, sitting down on a small bench that faces the river below.
“Why?” I ask as I follow and sit down next to her. When she doesn’t answer right away, I nudge her. “Blue?”
“I used to come here with my dad,” she says quietly.
Ah, there it is. I get it now.
“He was so busy on the farm, you know? So coming to the park was convenient. He could give me an hour of his time, once a week, to come up here.”
“Saturday mornings,” I guess.
“Saturday mornings.”
“I’m sorry you lost your dad.”
She shrugs and puts her head on my shoulder, and we sit in silence for a long time.
I’m glad we came to the overlook today, glad that she shared her special place with me.
Being here with her feels right.
Being anywhere with her feels right.
Chapter Thirty-Two
JUNIPER
Sunday morning, Mom and I drive into town for the indoor farmers’ market. Today, we’ve got extra pumpkins, many of them large and misshapen, perfect for jack-o’-lanterns. Halloween’s less than a week away, so this is usually a busy market for us. We’ve also got pie pumpkins, a variety of winter squash, rutabaga and turnips, and beets.
Our booth sits in between a local honey producer (what are the odds) and Mom’s hippie friend Guinevere, who owns a natural health store in Fred Lake called Sun & Moon. You never know what products Guinevere will bring with her on market day or what weird, wonderful advice she’ll dispense.
After we set up, we’ve got a few minutes before doors open, so I sample some lavender honey, which would be amazing with my Restful Garden blend, and then inspect Guinevere’s goods: handmade bath bombs and shower tablets, essential oils, bundles of lavender and sage, bars of goat milk soap (Gabe would be all over those), and leaf-shaped maple syrup candies.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” Guinevere says as I browse. “Do you have a sample for me today?” She asks this every time I see her.
“Not yet, but I’m close with the cherry-vanilla roller.”
“Lovely. I look forward to trying it. See anything you like?”
I smile. “Tell me about these goat milk soaps. Are they local?”
“Minnesota made,” she says. “They’re from a place called Rapha Farms. This summer, when I was down in the Cities visiting Lydia and my sweet grandbabies, I went to her farmers’ market and discovered these soaps. They’re made by a woman and her daughter who live on a goat farm. I’ve started carrying them in the store. You must stop by sometime and see the selection. And they’re absolutely delightful humans.”
“They smell amazing,” I say, holding one of the smaller bars up to my nose. Hazelnut Coffee Scrub. “I’d eat this.”
“Please don’t.” I hear a voice behind me, a voice that sends shivers down my back. I whirl around to find Gabe standing close, holding a to-go tea from Avant Garden, the coffee shop down the block. “Drink this instead. I know it’s not one of your special blends, but I hope it will do.”
“Hi!” I’m surprised to see him. I realize that I’ve missed him since our hike to the overlook yesterday. Lately, I’ve had the flutters even when he’s not smiling at me, so when he does, it’s a murmuration of flutters, whirling and diving like thousands of starlings in flight. The sight of him in worn denim, ripped at both knees, a long-sleeved gray thermal, and a Dark Side of the Moon T-shirt—holding tea that he bought for me—nearly knocks me over. “You’re here!”
“Laurel invited me to help out today so I can get a good feel for the market. I’m caffeinated and ready to go.” He holds up his own coffee cup and taps it against mine. “Cheers.”
“Juniper, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Guinevere asks. I swear there’s an extra gleam in her eye.
Gabe steps closer to Guinevere’s table and offers her his hand. “Gabe Hudson.”
“Guinevere Daily. Pleasure to meet you. And you look so much like a young Christopher!”
“Oh, you know Chris, then?” Gabe asks innocently. It’s all I can do to hold back a snort.
“Of course, dear. Quite the troublemaker, that one. And my Lydia had such a crush on him for many years. I wasn’t worried, though. He’s quite a few years older than Lydia, and, of course, the universe has a way of bringing people into our lives who belong there. I knew, deep down, that Chris wasn’t the right person for Lydia, or Lydia for him. Everything works out the way it’s meant to. When’s your birthday, dear?”
“Tomorrow, actually,” Gabe responds pleasantly, not at all affected by Guinevere’s strange ramblings or the abrupt change of subject.
His birthday. Tomorrow. A day I’ve been dreading since I found out about his inheritance, a day that now feels more like a gift.
“Oh my gosh,” Mom says. “Tomorrow already?”
He nods. “And we’re taking you out to dinner to celebrate, Laur,” he says.
“Oh no, of course not!” she says. “I’ll make you something special for dinner. And a cake.”
“You’re always cooking. Let us take you out instead.” He turns back to Guinevere. “Tell me about these goat milk soaps. I have a special interest in products made from goat milk. And goats, for that matter.”
“Do you now?” she says.
After a few minutes of chatting with Guinevere, he joins me behind the table, walking from one end to the other, examining the selection. “No fairies today?”
“We’re out,” Mom says. “I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to make another batch.”
“You’re out!” Gabe says. “Must be a big seller. Or maybe Juniper gave them all away.”
I jab him with my elbow. “Knock it off, or I’m going to give you all the worst jobs.”
He laughs. “I have a feeling you’ll do that anyway. Drink your tea before it gets cold, and try not to be crabby.”
Our booth is busier than it’s been in weeks, which creates a positive ripple effect for Guinevere, the honey guy, and the microgreens vendor across from us. Gabe smiles and laughs as he chats with customers, occasionally admitting that he knows absolutely nothing about root vegetables and he’ll let the experts handle the questions. He has a long conversation with one of our regulars about Pink Floyd and the state of rock and roll today. Midmorning, Janie and Izzy stop by and drop off a basket of radishes.
“This is the last of them,” Janie says. “I can’t believe we haven’t had our first hard freeze yet.”
“I hear that term tossed around a lot,” Gabe says. “What does it mean, because I’m freezing and I don’t believe you.”
Mom laughs. “A hard freeze is when overnight temps drop to twenty-eight or lower. Crops should be harvested before the first one each year. We’ve been lucky with a warm fall, even with all the rain we’ve had lately.”
“You must have brought the warm weather with you,” Guinevere says as she hands one of her customers a receipt. She nods at the woman. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. May your day be filled with love and abundance.”
I’m taking a quick break around noon, sitting in the back corner of our booth eating a turkey sandwich and some of Janie’s radishes. I check my phone and see a text from Amelia.
Amelia: Today is someday
I gasp.
Me: What does that mean??!!!!!!
Amelia: Ted brought pizza over last night and he asked me if I wanted to go to the haunted ship in Duluth and I asked him if this was a date and he got super embarrassed and flustered and said yeah if I was cool with that and I’m so cool with it I can’t even think straight!
I laugh. Finally!
Me: Finally!!!!!!
“What’s got you so happy?” Gabe leans against the wall behind me.
“Ted’s taking Amelia on a haunted ship tour today.”
“Oh, really? Like a date?”
“Like a date.” I nod.
“It’s about time!”
“And you say you don’t like rom-coms. They are a living, breathing rom-com.”
He shrugs. “I never said I didn’t like rom-coms.” He pushes himself off the wall. “I’m going to the concession stand. Want anything?”
I hold up my radish. “I’m good.”
Later, after we’ve sold out of everything but two especially deformed pumpkins, and Gabe is helping Mom carry empty crates back to the truck while I gather up our supplies, Guinevere steps over and puts her hand on my wrist.
“Pause with me for a moment,” she says, shutting her eyes almost reverently. “I believe with my entire being that people come into our lives when we need them most. And in some cases, the purpose for their arrival does not become clear for quite some time. We must open our hearts and our souls to the possibilities, Juniper, because we cannot predict the impact of one person, weaving in and out of our lives or choosing to stay there forever.”
She makes a sort of humming sound before she continues. “You are a strong woman who knows her mind. As long as I’ve had the pleasure of your acquaintance, you’ve known where life will take you. There is so much ahead of you. Open your heart. Clear the space around you of any negative energy. Walk in nature. Cleanse your spirit. Open yourself up to new and amazing possibilities.”
She squeezes my wrist and opens her eyes. “Sleep well tonight, love. Restore yourself. Tomorrow, begin anew. Celebrate the birth of your beloved.”
She turns and gathers her things and floats away in a cloud of lavender.
When I sleep, I dream of my beloved at the river, building a fire that smells of pine and snow.
Chapter Thirty-Three
GABE
When I wake up Monday morning, I’m eighteen.
The blink of an eye. The tick of the second hand.
Nothing feels different. Nothing feels the same.
Today, I tell myself, I’m not going to think about the mistakes I’ve made in the last year, the shithole I need to dig myself out of.
An impossible task.
I slept hard. Working at a farmers’ market is more difficult than I thought it would be, especially because so many people wanted a piece of my time, a conversation, a shared laugh.
Chris is already in the kitchen when I go downstairs. He’s not usually up this early. He pours me a cup of coffee and pulls me into a hug.
“Kid,” he says. “If I haven’t told you lately, I’m glad you were born.”
“Thanks,” I say into his shoulder, guilt rolling through me. “I’m gla
d you’re my dad.” I mean it, and I hope I haven’t completely fucked everything up between us.
He pulls away in surprise. “Well, look at you, all mature and shit on your eighteenth birthday.”
“Ah,” I say. “That’s more like it. Don’t try to get all sentimental on me. I’m still an asshole.”
He laughs. “Good. You’re still in there. I was worried for a minute.”
I sit down, and Chris slides a plate covered with foil across the table.
“Your timing is perfect. Still hot.”
I lift the foil to find perfectly crispy bacon, hash browns, and an omelet. “Sausage or ham?” I ask.
“Ham and cheese. It’s a special day. My kid gets ham and bacon on his eighteenth birthday.”
The food’s delicious, but I barely have time to shove the last of it in my mouth before I hear Juniper pull into the driveway. She’s early.
“Reservations are at six at Seasons Tavern,” Chris calls after I grab my backpack and walk toward the front door. “Let her know.”
Juniper wishes me a happy birthday as soon as I open the passenger door and slide in next to her. Today, she looks like cotton candy. Or a birthday cake. She’s wearing a poofy pink skirt with a fuzzy white sweater that looks like frosting and black high-tops. Her hair is down and wild with curls.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask, and she throws me a confused look as she backs into the turnaround.
“Ah, OK? How’d you sleep?”
“Great,” I say happily.
“This is weird, Gabe. Don’t you think it’s weird? Like, to ask me how I slept?”
“I care about your well-being. Why are you so early?”
“Bunny and Bucky need a ride. Bucky hit a deer last night.”
“Shit. Is everyone OK?”
“Luckily. This is his second one already, and he’s only been driving a few months.”
I straighten up and scan the road. “Tell me about your friends. Bunny and Youa and Amelia.”
She turns her head and wrinkles her brow. “What do you want to know?”