Stephanie and Janine were both in there, so as usual there was no privacy. Janine asked me how my date went with Will, which meant that now Stephanie knew about it as well.
I'd barely thought about the repercussions of Will and me hooking up on the relationships with the rest of the staff.
I told her, vaguely, that we had a good time and he wanted to date me. It seemed like she wanted to ask more but she didn't. We chatted about their weekends and then I left, needing some time to think. Since I usually fed off of the interactions with others, this was unusual, but I needed to think about what I was doing with Will.
It was just sex, right? We were so sexually compatible. He turned me on and I apparently turned him on. He was hot and seemingly constantly aroused. It was fun to be with him. It was fun to have sex with him. But we'd never be together, together, because we were too different.
And that was it.
Maybe.
Fuck.
What Amelia had said made me think. Having more than just sex with Will? I didn't know about that. I didn't know if I could show him all of me. I mean, while I was the type to organize a party, cheer up a friend, or start a Kickstarter project to get rid of the garbage patch in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, I didn't usually open up to people, especially guys. I think it had to do with how I grew up, moving around all the time, always moving onto the next person. If you got too close to someone, it hurt, because you had to say goodbye and maybe you'd never see them again. So it was safe to be friendly and have fun, but not fall very deep.
I’d dated all kinds of guys, but had been in very few relationships and the ones that I’d been in didn't last long. I never really let them know what I felt, but rather hid it under my party exterior.
Will seemed to dodge my image as a party girl and go right for the me underneath. He just decided that he liked me and that was it. His actions, after yelling at me when I bumped into him naked that first day, were all caring—taking me to Andersen's for vegan split pea soup, cleaning me up before sex, immediately introducing me to his mother when I complained about not having met her.
Why did I complain about not having met his parents if it was just sex?
So it boiled down to the fact that he was so vehemently anti-politically correct, while I, essentially, was politically correct in every possible way. And while this may seem like a stupid thing to worry about, because these beliefs were so central to both of us, it mattered at a basic level. I wanted to be tolerant of others, but I thought of his politics as that of the intolerant. How can you be tolerant of the intolerant?
I mean, you want people to agree with you. At least about the important stuff.
Right?
Fuck.
I didn't know what to think anymore. It was a lot simpler when I’d just decided to jump Will's bones and be done with it. Now that there was this possibility of more, I was scared.
Wanting to escape my thoughts, I wandered over to the barn and the corral to see what the wranglers were doing. Although I officially had the weekend off and could do whatever I wanted, I loved hanging around the horses.
Jimmy, the old wrangler, and Hector, the young wrangler were mucking out the corral, a daily activity. I grabbed a rake and helped them and they looked at me gratefully.
"Enjoying Headlands?" asked Jimmy, a guru with a drawl.
"I love it here. It's so beautiful and I love the work that the Program does for kids. I met Will's mom and dad and I am so glad that they opened the facility for others."
Jimmy paused for a moment in his mucking and turned and looked at me.
"Will likes you," he said.
"I don't know about that," I said, trying to be modest.
"I've known him since he was born. Never seen him take a woman to meet his parents."
Really?
"His parents are so nice."
Jimmy nodded.
"I just wish they wouldn't watch Fox News all the time," I said.
"They are the last of the old-fashioned California Republicans. Not this new stuff. Old style. Don't raise their taxes or tell 'em what to do on their land."
I raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. I’d assumed that his parents were the Fox News ultra-conservative.
Maybe I needed to just talk to them.
Was I being intolerant of them?
Hector came by with fresh hay after we had mucked out the corral and the stalls, and we fed the horses and made sure they had fresh water.
A fresh start.
And then it was time to get cleaned up for dinner.
In the chow hall, I sat next to Will, his leg pressed up against me again. He smelled clean and had just taken a shower. After dinner, he asked me to spend the night but I told him no because I wanted to stay in my bunk. I needed the space.
But in the middle of the night, after tossing and turning in my bottom bunk, I snuck out of the bunkhouse and knocked on Will's door in my jammies. He let me in and I tumbled into his arms. He kissed me deeply, took me upstairs to his room, and kept me awake for a while. I eventually fell asleep in his strong arms, tucked into him, under his quilt, in his whitewashed room, in his old-fashioned farmhouse that was starting to feel like home, and I slept very well.
Campfire
"IT SMELLS FUNNY."
"I have to pee."
I stifled a laugh as I watched the noisy kids from Oakland spill out of the old, yellow school bus, their voices an indistinct chorus, becoming distinct as they stepped outside into the fresh midmorning air. Standing with the wranglers, we welcomed fifteen boys, fifteen girls, plus a few adults.
This was a seriously racially diverse group, probably reflecting the melting pot demographics of the East Bay. The kids looked shiny and new, with cell phones, wearing fresh jeans and clean tennis shoes, compared to the five of us program staff, who all had trail dust on us from riding horses early that morning.
I could see their young faces taking in the ranch buildings, the animals in their corrals and pens, and the landscape of brown hills, orchards, vineyards, and fields. None of them had ever been on a farm before.
"Hello!” I yelled cheerfully. “Welcome to Headlands Ranch! I'm Marie!"
"What the fuck is this shit?" I heard from one of the boys, a tall African-American with a very precise haircut, dark smooth skin, and a grouchy look on his face.
"I have to use the bathroom," whined a ponytailed Asian girl, the only one of the group wearing cowboy boots over her pale jeans.
"Ohmigod it smells," said a redhead with freckles, wearing clothes that were a little too big. She held her nose. "It smells bad."
"What, there's no WiFi here?" complained a Hispanic boy, very sharply dressed, in a button down shirt and skinny jeans.
I ignored them all and kept talking.
"I am so glad all of you are here. Let's get you set up and then you’ll meet your horses."
"Cool," said a small African-American girl with a shy smile, her hair in three thick braids.
A few other kids smiled at me and I was instantly charmed by the combination of their enthusiasm for the farm with their inexperience due to their urban background.
A tall, attractive, bald man with mocha-colored skin and dark eyes, wearing well-fitting jeans and a plaid button down shirt, came up to me and said, "Nice to meet you, Marie. I'm Maurice Jenkins, and I run the Bay Area program for these guys."
"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking his hand.
"I'm the boys' group leader," he continued, "and Tricia Pham," pointing to a petite woman with amazingly cool dark jeans and a fluttery top, "is the girls' group leader." I shook her hand.
After settling the kids in the bunkhouse, we headed over to the barns, the stables, and the corrals, to see the horses. As we were walking over, Will pulled up from his rounds around the ranch in his now again mud-covered truck, and hopped out, moseying over to meet the kids with Trixie at his heels.
He looked mouthwatering in a faded, tight blue t-shirt that showed every ridge of hi
s torso and his usual jeans, belt buckle, and boots. His hair curled underneath a trucker hat, sticking out at the bottom. He looked at me and smiled.
I heard Tricia Pham breathe out "Oh. My. God."
I called out, "Everyone, this is Will Thrash, a genuine rancher, whose family has owned Headlands Ranch for four generations."
Will looked at all the kids and gave them his grin, speaking in his deep drawl. "Welcome. Glad you're here. Hope you like ridin'." Then he looked at me. "I know Marie does."
I hoped that no one else would pick up on his innuendo.
It still made me hot.
We spent the rest of the morning organizing the kids into their groups, assigning them to the wranglers, and having them meet and pet their horses. Then it was time for lunch. Will sat with me, leaning against me as much as he could without being obvious—or at least I hoped we weren't being obvious. Then he left to go meet with some visitors who looked like they were from the city. I wondered if they were the developers that he was so worried about earlier.
After lunch, the kids learned how to care for the chickens, goats, and other animals, and I planned a campfire for that night.
THE CAMPFIRE WAS a failure.
The fire wouldn't light. Between me, Jimmy, and Hector, we couldn't get it to start. So Hector came back with a bottle of lighter fluid, which made the boys perk up and Will grumble about his insurance premiums and the cost of Worker's Comp insurance. He'd been pretty sullen since his meeting with the suits, but had come by the campfire and stood in the back, leaning against a tree, watching me but not participating.
Then it took too long for the tall flames to die down into coals so that we could roast marshmallows, so we didn't do that.
I made an attempt to get the group to sing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in a three-part round, but I had to do it all by myself, because all of the adults said, "I don't sing." Will looked at me with a "No way in hell am I singing" look on his face.
This seriously pissed me off. He really was an asshole sometimes.
But these were kids. Everyone knew the song, right? My singing voice wasn't great, but what good was a campfire if you didn't sing around it?
It didn't work. They just stared at me.
Will put his hand over his mouth, chuckling.
That wasn’t nice.
No one laughed at my jokes, except Cookie, who always looked like he wanted to laugh at me. God. These kids just didn't want to look uncool.
Will silently left in the middle of all this, clearly amused by my enthusiasm and the lack of response of the kids, and not helping in the slightest.
As he walked away, I saw him stifle a laugh as I tried, yet again, to get the kids to sing, saying "Come on, everyone! Let's do this!"
I needed help. I didn't need to be left struggling alone by the guy who wanted to get in my pants. Jerk.
After a few more attempts at group activities, I gave up, letting the kids just hang out around the campfire. Some took out their cell phones, while others chatted with each other. They seemed to like this better than an organized activity.
I implemented a no cell phone rule beginning immediately.
What a depressing end to the day. I wanted to make connections with the kids and have some fun. I did not want to be a freak show.
When the kids were finally in bed that night, I went to my bunk and crashed, tired, and for once not thinking about joining Will in his bed.
But I couldn't sleep. I was pissed.
I got more pissed the more that I thought about it.
Will should have set aside any embarrassment and supported me. I’d needed help getting these kids to open up and, instead, he’d left me.
I texted Amelia.
Will just treated me like shit.
What?! Honey. What did he do?
I had a bad first day with this group of city kids from Oakland and he just laughed at me and watched me crash and burn instead of helping to make it better.
You know what the right answer is, right? You need to talk with him. Guys can't read your mind and sometimes they don't know when they hurt you.
I sighed. She was right. She had such a healthy relationship with Ryan, she knew what to do. I got out of bed, put on flip flops, put my hair up in a messy bun on the top of my head, grabbed a hoodie, and headed over to Will's house.
When he opened the door, barechested, in sweats, he started to say, "Wondered if you were gonna come over—" but I pushed him inside, and started immediately talking to him in the hallway.
"I'm pissed at you. You treated me like shit tonight. Remember last week, when Clarissa said your hair sang that you were true and passionate and kind? Well it didn't feel like that. It felt like you were a jerk and an asshole. I needed some help and you didn't stick up for me. You treated me like I was the monkey exhibit at the zoo. And you want me to go out with you? Well this is why I won't. I'm just an amusing cunt to you, not girlfriend material. You don't say much, Silent Sam, so I watch your actions. And your actions tonight were shitty, Will."
He stared at me, his brown eyes big, and then he reached over to brush my cheek. I flinched and brushed his hand aside and continued, "I was being laughed at enough by the kids and they were completely disrespectful. These are tough kids, Will. They don't know about camp life. I bet a lot of them are raised by a single parent or a grandparent or have family members on drugs or aren't doing well in school because they have no support and no role models. I need to do silly things with them. Wholesome things. They don't need everything to be cynical."
Will let out a deep breath and put his head down. Then he raised his head and looked at me.
"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes softening.
"What?"
"I'm sorry," he repeated sincerely. "You're right, that was a dick move. Fucked up. Didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't realize—"
And then the house started shaking, the pictures started violently moving on the walls, the lamps started skidding toward the end of the table, and I heard the crash of glass breaking.
Earthquake!
Campout
EVERYTHING AROUND US THAT was supposed to be still, was moving. We stood in the front room of Will's old farmhouse, the antique ceiling light swinging, a spindly wooden chair falling over, and papers and photographs falling off of a side table.
Crash!
That sounded like the dishes fell off of a shelf in the kitchen.
Breaking glass.
Oh no!
The pictures swung off-kilter on the walls.
We’d been placed in a life-sized cardboard box, and now a malevolent giant was shaking that box with us in it.
I wanted to get out of that cardboard box.
We needed to get out of the house, now.
Will grabbed my hand and pulled me outside the house, down the porch, and to the middle of the Headlands compound. As we ran, I stumbled and he caught me. It was hard to run during an earthquake.
The moonlight illuminated the dark ground. We could hear the leaves on the trees rustling, and we could actually see the earth undulate, starting from the hills and working its way down to the fields. Watching the earth move in waves like it was the ocean was one of the eeriest things I'd ever experienced. While quiet outside, as the earth moved, it made a low groan. The buildings creaked.
I realized that my arms and legs shook and that I was suddenly close to tears. I didn't want to panic. I didn't know if I was the type to panic.
All I knew was that I had to keep it together because we had a lot of people and animals to take care of. I could collapse later.
I took a deep breath.
As suddenly as it had come on, the earth quieted down. After an earthquake, your body had the memory of the movement stored and it always felt like, "What was that? An aftershock?" Your body and mind played tricks on you and afterward you often felt the ground moving for a long time.
He spoke first, quickly, still holding my hand, which he squeezed. "Here's the plan. You okay?" I no
dded. "I'm gonna run, help my dad with my ma, make sure she's okay, then meet you at the bunkhouse. You get the kids out. Don't want them to be in there in case there are aftershocks. Think we'll just set up camp in a field. Safest place in an earthquake is out in the open. We'll keep 'em away from structures until we can check for damage. We'll clean up in the morning when we can see better. I'll get tarps, you have 'em get blankets. I'll tell the ranch hands to help." He looked me up and down, hard, and seemed to be satisfied. He squeezed my hand again.
And then he took off, barefoot, sprinting to his parents' house, wearing just his black track pants, his back muscles rippling. I ran to the bunkhouse in my flip flops. I could see several wranglers headed toward the barn.
As I ran up to the bunkhouse, I heard voices and knew that this was a vigorous enough earthquake to wake everyone up; I would guess that it was at least a five on the Richter scale, if not higher.
Once I got inside, kids were screaming and Maurice was on the stairs, talking with Tricia and the adult chaperones. I ran up to them.
"Will wants us to evacuate the buildings, and we're going to have a campout under the stars until we can check for damage in the morning. Get the kids to grab a pillow and sleeping bag and any cushions and head outside. Count heads. We'll regroup in the field."
I ran down the stairs and into Janiqua, the girl with the three braids, in pink pajamas, bleary eyed, and close to tears. I wrapped her in my arms and snuggled her close, hugging her hard. She half-sobbed into my chest. "Are the horses going to be okay?"
Gently patting her head, stroking it soothingly, I said as quickly as I could without making it seem rushed, "Yes, sweetie, we're going to take care of all of the animals. They have safe places to be. We'll make sure of it." I pulled back and looked her in the eyes, giving her a small smile. "Now put on shoes and get a sweater, your pillow, and sleeping bag, and meet me out front."
I hustled into each room, repeating the instructions. The kids obeyed quickly. They sensed that this was important because inside there was damage. A few of the empty bunk beds had tipped over and the office was a mess.
The Stars in the Sky (Giving You ... #2) Page 10