While Pepper continued to heal, with bi-weekly check-ins at the vet, Baskia tilled a patch of soil in a sunny part of the yard and transferred seedlings including tomatoes, beans, some herbs, and squash into the plot.
She also readied things for her parent’s arrival over the long holiday weekend. She prepared a menu, with Patty’s help, and invited everyone over for an afternoon barbecue on Memorial Day. It didn’t matter if her mom and dad approved of her friend’s social status, their appearance, or humble lives. Anne and William Benedict would accept her and the life she’d created on the mountain or not. She knew that nothing would change the way she felt about herself, she’d found a home, a family, and was happy there, content with her year of deliberate exploration, stillness, and reflection.
As the weekend of her parent’s arrival neared, there was still no sign of Trace, but Baskia had a canine companion. Whether Trace decided to appear or not, she’d be okay. At least that’s what she told herself. When she brought Pepper down to the lake, watching him splash in the shallows, she recalled Trace and her skinny-dipping, the feel of him pressing against her, his lips. She swallowed hard; telling herself everything would work out just fine, life would go on with or without Tracey Wolfe.
One night Baskia’s cell phone rang, but she didn’t recognize the number. When it rang again, displaying the digits, she answered, hopeful it was Trace.
A female voice came in choppy fits and starts and then the line went silent. Pepper groaned as she got back in bed; he’d taken to sleeping by her legs instead of on his plush doggy bed. “Let’s go to sleep,” she said. “We have work to do in the morning.”
While Pepper pranced in the yard chasing invisible squirrels, Baskia weeded and watered her garden, relishing the muddy smell of the earth. Patty pulled in with a host of platters and trays: loaners for the barbecue.
“Are you ready for the big shindig on Monday?” Patty asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Thanks,” Baskia said. They talked for a few minutes, Patty offering green thumb tips for the garden. “I plan to be back a few times during the summer, but feel free to help yourself to the bounty.”
Her phone jingled later that afternoon while she organized the cupboards and got ready for her parents’ arrival later that afternoon. She glanced at it to find three missed calls with messages. She remembered the dropped call from the night before and pressed listen. For once, the messages came through, but they were garbled, first a nurse and then London, but she couldn’t decipher what they said.
After cleaning up, she took the long drive to town to visit Maisy and work on the afghan for an hour or so. Baskia laughed aloud, saying, “If she could see me now.” She wondered what London had wanted and knew she might turn her nose up at Baskia’s new way of life. Although, she’d be returning to the city mid-summer, she wouldn’t be shoveling or tending fires, in fact, she had a couple shoots in July and August. Certainly, she’d leave her garden behind, but she’d have Pepper, her friends, and the blog. Her mind wandered to Trace, his image blurring in her memory. She landed on his honest eyes, mischievous grin, and the dinners he’d made. She wondered if they’d find a way to fit into each other’s lives.
Once she was in range, she pressed listen on her messages again and heard clearly, this time, the nurse discussing her patient, Kate London. “She listed Baskia Benedict as the person to call in case of an emergency on her file in the hospital. Please phone as soon as possible.” The next message offered more detail with info about her overdosing on drugs and alcohol, but currently in recovery. The last message was from Kate herself, sounding tired, but calmer than she had in a long time, and apologetic.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you with all that. I was unconscious, um but I’m okay now. It was pretty scary. A girl I was with died.” The line went quiet for a beat. “The nurse just called the person on file. I’m so embarrassed. I’ll be in rehab for thirty days. I’m sorry that I was so nasty to you. I’ll try calling you when I get out, but if you don’t want to talk, I understand. Oh and uh, I owe you some money for the crystal decanter and a few other things. I promise I’ll pay you back.”
Stunned, Baskia stayed in the car, going over everything Kate had said. After she finally pulled herself onto the sidewalk, she spent the next hour seeking distraction from the news. She knit and watched over Maisy. She kept up a running dialog about a trip she’d once taken to Australia and some cute koalas.
Once back at the cabin, Baskia set out a cheese platter with grapes, figs, and crackers. She made Pepper promise to be a good host, and planted herself on the couch, knitting needles in hand, eager to complete the afghan.
She waited and waited. As a half-hour turned into an hour, she wondered if her parents had hit traffic. As an hour turned into two, she recalled Christmas and wondered if they were actually going to visit at all. She sighed, supposing it didn’t matter. Perhaps, they’d failed her, but she hadn’t failed herself and she was through waiting, for them, for Trace, and for her future to begin. “The time to be happy and live is now.” Calling Pepper to her side, she pulled on her sneakers, and went to take their evening walk.
When she returned, a black Lexus sat in the driveway. Soft light glowed from inside the cabin. She opened the door to find her mother rearranging things on the counter.
“There you are. We started to get worried. We thought you’d be here when we arrived.”
“I—” She was about to argue, to say that she was there, that they were late, as usual, but it was pointless; her mother had already launched into plans for the weekend, but then startled.
“What’s that?!” She gasped when Pepper came out from behind Baskia and sniffed Anne’s hand.
“This is Pepper. He’s my dog.”
“What? You got a dog? I told you, no dogs.”
“Yeah, when I was ten. Um. In case you forgot I’m an adult.”
“Then you should start acting like one, none of this ditching college and—living here.” Anne gestured wildly with both hands and then took a sip of wine.
“Here we go. Did it even occur to you that I not only survived a winter up here, alone, in this cabin, but I thrived. I learned more in this past year than I ever would have back in the City or at Columbia. I saved myself. I saved Pepper. I made friends, and we’re all the better for it.”
“I don’t see how anything you could possibly do here would improve your life in any way. Now, I was on the phone with Violet Sinclair the other day, you know, Dane’s mother, and we were thinking it would be nice for the two of you to get to—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Baskia spoke the exact words she’d been repeating since she was thirteen. She studied her mother carefully, trying to detect in her the desire to connect, to be closer, and to grow stronger in their relationship. “I want you to say, 'Then help me understand you.' But, you won’t. You want everything to be perfect so you don’t have to look underneath the myth of what money can buy and see your own failings and shortcomings. How you skipped out on your dreams just to wait around at home for dad to get back from work or to get a bonus so you can go buy things to show off to your so-called friends.”
“Friends? Last I knew your friends were a bunch of druggies who pose as models. You ditched any real friend you ever had when you turned your back on Mellie.”
“Oh and you’ve never made a mistake?” Baskia glared at her mother, penetrating layer after layer of stubborn denial. “Also, for your information, she and I have reconciled.”
“I don’t know what has gotten into you young lady. I’m disappointed. And when your father is done with his conference call, he’s going to be too.”
Baskia stared at her mother, aghast. “Maybe I was born to be the exact opposite of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Baskia wanted to storm into her room and slam the door, but her dad was in there on his laptop, working like always. A stiff surge of resentment tightened her jaw. She called Pepper to her side, and they took off into
the twilight.
She padded to the end of the dock and sat down, listening to the chorus of crickets beckoning summer. Pepper nuzzled next to her, resting his chin on his paws. “Whoever said dogs are man’s best friend had it wrong,” she said, rubbing her hands in his fur. “You’re my bestie beastie.” She gazed at the glassy water and thought fondly of Wes and Mellie, Daniella, Patty, Mary, and possibly even Kate as best friends too.
She shivered, knowing she’d have to go inside soon and try to smooth things over so the weekend wouldn’t be a total waste. As she strolled back to the cabin, taking her time, she realized that no, she didn’t have to. Baskia hopped in the BMW, tapping the seat so Pepper would jump in, and whizzed down the mountain road. Glancing at the time on the dash, she had a half-hour remaining for visiting hours at the nursing home.
“Promise to be a good boy,” Baskia said and they dashed inside.
Taking a seat beside Maisy’s bed, she said, “You know, I just need someone to listen to me. I know it isn’t your job, and there are probably tons of things you’d rather hear than me venting, but it’s like my parents don’t get me. At all. I know most teenagers feel that way when they hit a rough patch and there’s a power struggle, but my mom and dad don’t even try, and I’m not some rebellious teen anymore. I’ve been working since I was fifteen, even keeping up with school, of course with the help of tutors. I know I probably sound like a spoiled rich kid. Maybe I am. But I know for sure that taking this year was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s all I need to know, that I made the right choice for me. That I approve of—” She sighed, gazing at the sleeping girl, possibly dreaming of long walks in the woods, sunshine, laughter. “—that I approve of me. Maybe that’s enough.”
“It is. I’m sure of it,” said a voice from behind her.
“Wes.”
“I just came by to say goodnight. I thought your parents were visiting.”
“They are. We had a fight.”
“Let me guess, they have an idea for how they want your life to go, it doesn’t match yours, and so you’re at an impasse.”
“Same old story. I came up here to figure out what I wanted from my life. I found you guys. I found myself. And now whatever I do next, I welcome it, because I know who I am now and with that, I believe I can do anything or continue to grow or just camp out in the cabin for the rest of my days,” she said in an outpouring.
“So their problem is...”
“Me.”
“I’m sure they love you.”
Baskia shrugged. “They don’t show it. I was just telling Maisy that I probably sound like your typical—what?” she asked, interrupting herself at the sight of a big grin spreading across Wes’s face.
“I love that you include her. It means a lot to me.” They both looked at Maisy, as if she’d just dozed off, tired of the conversation. “Believe it or not my dad wanted me to take over the family business, be a builder. I wanted to be a designer. We’d argue over it. He put pressure on me, but I wanted to go to college. Kind of the opposite of your situation. Now I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“It does though. He’d want you to do what’s going to make you happy. I just wish my parents did too. And for the record, I do want to go to college, but with my own agenda, not aboard my mother’s social-climbing-program.”
Wes chuckled. “Fair enough. But listen, for Maisy and I, our mom and dad are gone. I’ll never know if my dad would have been proud when I received my diploma on graduation day.”
Baskia sighed, glancing at the clock. She turned to go, “I know he would; and if not him, me. Thanks for listening, both of you.”
Taking her time returning to the cabin, Baskia snuck down to the basement, and promptly fell asleep.
The next day, she woke to find her parents gone, presumably antiquing. She went about her usual routine, an early morning smoothie, a long walk with Pepper followed by food prep and work on her blog. In the afternoon, she was rolling up her yoga mat when she heard the car pull into the driveway. She had a strawberry tart on the counter, cooling, so she could photograph it.
Anne marched in, exclaiming, “What is that wonderful smell?”
Pepper howled.
Baskia didn’t look up from her camera as Anne fussed around the living room, talking all the while.
“Your father and I found a marvelous turn of the century credenza that will look lovely in the foyer in Manhattan. We found a cute little café for lunch; they even had a Cobb salad. Up here, if you believe it. I was just telling Violet that you can’t find a good—” She went silent.
Baskia aimed her camera at her mother, clicking. Capturing her mid-sentence, her eyes wide, self-consciously brushing an invisible hair from her face.
“What are you doing, dear? I thought it was peculiar that you were photographing your food, but why me?”
“Because when you’re not paying attention, you’re beautiful, Mom.” Those were the last words she expected to tumble out of her mouth, but they were true.
The cabin was quiet, except for the clicking of the keyboard from the other room. William must have slipped in behind Anne when they returned, going straight back to work.
Anne Benedict was silent.
Baskia picked up the square of mirror she used in her photography set-up to amplify the light. “Take a look at yourself. A good look. What do you see?”
Anne’s eyes grew soft, her lips parted, and she reached out for her reflection, but she didn’t utter a word.
“I see a woman reaching for something that’s unattainable outside of herself. Perfection. Approval. Significance. Those were all the things I sought to figure out while I was up here. Unravel the messages you gave me about who you wanted me to be and find out who I really am. I’ve learned that I’m already perfect and imperfect at the same time. That I have to approve of myself first. And significance, I can only assign it to myself. Getting a degree from a prestigious college doesn’t make me any more important than I already am. It’s what I did to get that degree and what I will do with it once I leave those classrooms that matters.” Baskia put the mirror back on the table. Stepping outside, she called Pepper, and they set off into the woods.
Baskia hoped her words penetrated years of refusal, of quiet deception, and a lost sense of self. And that she’d pierced the veil Anne wore identifying herself as a society woman, eager to show the world just how perfect the life she created was. Compassion had washed over her, standing in the kitchen in front of the frail and desperately composed woman dressed in a blue blazer and slacks, with nary a hair out of place. It was some of Baskia’s strength that her mom needed then, maybe she had to show her mom how capable and courageous she’d become.
The shadows were long when Baskia returned to the cabin, Pepper by her side. She washed up and prepared the dinner of grilled shrimp, over fluffy polenta with Gouda and a creamy spinach sauce. She set the table, her father sequestered in the bedroom behind the glow of his computer. As for Anne, Baskia thought maybe she was lying down.
“Dinner,” she called.
Pepper wagged his tail as she set out his dish.
Baskia wished she shared the meal with Trace. He’d enjoy it. She remembered him sitting in the chair across from her, leaning back easily, smiling as he sipped wine. It seemed so far away, like another lifetime. She wondered if he’d only lived in her imagination, company for her lonely and confused mind when she’d first arrived on the mountain.
Finally, her father emerged from the room and sat down, taking a bite as he unfolded the newspaper.
“Hey,” she said after her food was nearly gone. Anne still hadn’t appeared, and William intently read an article. “I said, hey. For all Mom goes on about manners, yours really suck. I made you dinner. The least you could do is acknowledge that it tastes good or—I don’t know, put down your paper, interact, connect.”
William put his fork down and neatly folded the paper. He took off his glasses to reveal softness in his eyes. “All you had to do was ask.�
��
“What do you mean?”
“I always thought you guys were caught up in your own lives and didn’t want to bother with me.” He looked at her earnestly, giving her his full attention.
That, she didn’t expect.
“I guess so. A little bit. But I don’t think you’ve said more than two words to me in as many years.”
“I wished you happy birthday.”
“Like I said, two words, and that was in an email. Dad, I know you’re a busy man. I know you’re married to your career, and mom, which seems like it would be a lot like a second full-time job. But you know, a friend of mine unexpectedly lost his father last year. They got along great, except I guess when it came to his future, which seems like a common problem, but he’ll never know what his dad wanted for him. You’re still alive, and I have no idea what you want for me. I don’t know if you agree with Mom and silently support her pushing me toward a life of her design; or if you even care at all.”
William looked taken aback. “Of course I care, why do you think I work so hard? I want you to have everything. I want you to be happy.”
“Are you happy?” Baskia asked.
“I’m happy if my family is happy.”
“I can’t speak for anyone other than myself, but moving forward, the thing I want the most, what would really make me happiest, you can’t buy with plastic.”
“Baskia, I’m sorry. I’ve heard you and your mother arguing over the last months. Okay, year. I stay out of it. I guess I’m afraid to mettle. You women scare me. But it’s time I got over that. Tell me, where do we start?”
Baskia and her dad chatted for the next two hours, moving from the table to the sofa, Pepper resting between them. Baskia told him about all the people she’d met, her and Mellie’s wild time, and she even mentioned Trace. She asked him about work, probing him to find out what exactly he did, it had largely been a mystery to her.
“My official title is chief legal officer. I head the law department of one of the largest multinationals.”
On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5) Page 23