by Amy Stinnett
“I don’t know, babe. I know you’ve always wanted a master’s degree. You love Seattle. Has anything changed?”
“No, I don’t know. I thought I’d appreciate it more, now that everything I own is covered in bird poop. If I’m really honest, though, this trip is making me wonder. I mean, work is still great, but the bar scene is just boring now. I ran into Ton-Ton.”
“How did that go?”
“About like you’d expect. She’s so fake, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I did stand up for myself this time, though. Anyway, I think she has moved on.”
“Well, good. She didn’t really sound like your type.” Mom didn’t know all the gory details, but she knew enough. “Tell me more about this Jodie girl.”
I tried to mute the grin now spreading across my face. “Well, she is beautiful. Kind of a Kelly Clarkson meets Selena. She’s about my age. She’s a librarian, so she’s smart. I went riding, horseback riding, with her a couple of weeks ago, and it was probably one of the best days of my life. It’s not just those things, though. She’s got this way of being, you know, a Zen, but she’d probably make a joke about me using the word to describe her.”
“Sounds like you got it bad.”
“Mom, no. I’m sure she’s straight, and besides, if I leave, I’d probably never see her again. I mean, I’ll go back to Boise to see Liv sometimes, but I barely know Jodie. She probably thinks I’m an idiot.”
“Have you asked her how she feels.”
“Well, no. I’m sure she’s straight. She’s a daddy’s girl. And if you knew the right-wing assholes she has to deal with every day…” Mom gave me a look that said she wasn’t buying what I had to sell.
“Ask her how she feels.”
“Okay, okay. But it’s moot if I sell the place and move away.”
“You keep saying ‘if.’ You’re seriously considering staying?”
“Yeah, well. I don’t know what Elliot will do without the place, and there’s no guarantee the next owner would work with him.”
“Any way he could buy the place or just lease it from you? You told me his mom was the reason Dan didn’t leave it to him? And she’s gone now.”
“Nope. I asked him again, and he said he had too much to deal with, already.”
“But, honey, you’re losing focus. It’s great that you’re thinking about all these people, but how do you feel? Do you want to be up to your elbows in mud and poop all the time? Do you want the responsibility of all those animals? Do you want to put your studies on hold for a while? That’s what you need to be asking.”
“You hated living on the farm, right? You always said the farm life wasn’t for you.”
“Well, that’s me. I’m not saying for you to do one thing or another, but you can’t live your life worrying just about other people. I tried, and it didn’t work for me. I loved so much about the farm. Seeing the baby chicks following their mama chicken around. I loved having the kids scamper around me in the field. I loved watching the sun come up over the hay field. We had this barn cat, a skinny, orange tabby, and she was so sweet. She would bring me dead gophers and curl up at my feet when I would sit out on the deck. There were a lot of peaceful moments there, but I got tired of the constant worry over everything. It just never stops, and with a kid, it was overwhelming. The first year or two was great, almost idyllic, but then we stopped going anywhere, even to Boise. Maybe if things had been different, I don’t know. I think your dad became agoraphobic.”
“So … what happened with Bill?”
“Um. Did he say something to you?”
“Not much. But you named me after him, right?”
“Yes. I love Bill. He was such a great kid. He stayed with us before you were born, and it was almost like he was my first child. His parents kicked him out because they thought he was gay. He really didn’t fit their mold. When you were born, I couldn’t think of a name I liked better for you. I love that name. Plus, he would never let me call him Billie, always ‘Bill.’ It reminded me of Billie Holiday, too.”
“So, was he the reason you left?”
“Oh, good heavens, no. Look, your dad was bi. It was not a big deal to me, since we were committed to each other. Dan had feelings for Bill, but, as far as I know, he never followed through on them, at least not before Bill went off to college. But I think his way of coping with his feelings for men was to try to shut down that side of himself. And I think fixating on the farm may have been another coping mechanism, too. You now have my dime-store analysis, for what it’s worth. When he started shutting down and isolating, I changed jobs. I needed the world outside, too, and I was hoping it might wake him up, but instead he just got worse. By the time you and I moved out, he and I were long past done. I waited for years for him to reach out, but it never happened. Anyway, he seemed happy enough on the farm, with his books and animals. Have you looked through all his little notebooks?”
“A little. There’s tons of records. Did you know how much money the farm makes? I could get my master’s paid for in one year alone.”
“Yes, but would you have the time and energy to go if you stayed there? I mean, you might, if you’re motivated enough, but a farm’s a huge responsibility.”
“I’m starting to get that.”
“Whatever you choose, I will support you any way I can. Harvey, too. I hope you get a chance to know him better. Anyway, I’m tired and I need to get back to bed. They’re not going to let me take another day off, I’m pretty sure.” Mom had been on her phone several times during the day, having to manage a crisis at the office. “Night, baby.” She patted my leg and headed off to bed.
March 11, 2013
At 8:13 a.m. My phone buzzed, and I rolled over and checked it. It was a text from Jodie.
Can you come home early?
I rubbed my eyes and sat up to reply.
Possibly. What’s wrong?
The goats have started kidding, and Elliot’s been up with them all night.
Oh, I didn’t know they’d started. He doesn’t text and won’t call unless it’s an emergency.
Well, not an emergency, but he’s panicked one will need help if he goes home. So he’s been out in the barn for most of the last two days.
I have mostly been dealing with chickens, Elliot has handled all of the goat stuff.
Sheila’s due back, too. I know a little, but she’s an expert.
I will get there as soon as I can. Thank you for letting me know.
Of course! I hope you’re having a good time. Jealous.
I couldn’t imagine Jodie being jealous of anyone or anything.
I went upstairs and found Harvey in the kitchen feeding Hailey. She was doing a version of a Jackson Pollock painting on her high chair tray, only with Cheerios and applesauce.
“Is there some sort of compulsory law that children under five have to have Cheerios? I’m just saying there must be some other food they can eat.”
“They get your name and address from the hospital, and they come break your little toes if you don’t buy two giant boxes every month. I was secretly mixing it in with the mulch in the back yard, but I started finding dead birds.”
I laughed in spite of myself.
“You want some people food?” He was grilling a breakfast sandwich in a pan.
“Is that allowed?” He smoothly slid the sandwich onto a plate, the plate onto the breakfast bar in front of me, and he went back to the stove to make another.
“Thank you.” I took a bite. It wasn’t bad. “So, do you think Mom would mind if I left early?”
“She already thought you would. Why do you think she took the whole day off yesterday? She would have gone straight back to work after the ceremony if you weren’t here. Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“You know, for not busting my chops over everything. You know, Hannah. For not hating Hailey.” I looked over at the slobbery mess. “I wish you were around more, actually. I think Hannah could learn a lot from yo
u.”
“Well, I don’t know … Maybe she just needs more time? She’s only …?”
“Nineteen. Well, she’s been in and out of rehab since she was seventeen. She was only straight during, unh-unh,” he pointed his head towards Hailey, “because her mother basically locked her in her room for nine months. Her last stunt almost landed her in jail. I may not like her mom, but Hannah has been pure frustration since she hit puberty. She was finishing her GED and gearing up for community college, and she blew it.”
“That sucks.”
“Anyway.” He sat down with his sandwich and started eating. Still chewing, he said, “A non-stop flight leaves around midnight and gets there around 3:30 in the morning, but if we get you to the gates by twelve or so today, you can get a connecting flight in Salt Lake and be there around six tonight.”
I gaped at him.
“What? Your mother had me check all the options as soon as she found out you were coming.” He finished the last bite of his sandwich and dusted his hands over the plate.
It was overcast when my plane touched down at the Boise airport. All I could see upon approach in the dusk blue sky were the lights from the state prison, twinkling golden in the frosty night. From the lobby, I texted Liv I was back early. She said I was welcome for dinner, but I told her I was in a hurry to get home. She offered to bring Frodo back over the weekend, and I was grateful for one less thing to worry about. I texted Jodie I had made it to Boise and would see her in the morning, or the next time she made it out to the place, but I didn’t get a reply. Probably a reception issue.
As I paid for parking, another plane taxied down the runway and soared up in a straight line, heading west, before disappearing into the clouds. The car radio sounded harsh on my ears, even when I turned it down low, so I drove back to Milepost listening to the slush and ice whoosh under the tires. The last bit of orange stretched to the edge of the skyline and melted into a pale gray, then gravel, then slate. It was pitch dark when I got to the farm, but a light was on in the goat barn. I went in the house and made two hot chocolates for Elliot and me, before I changed into my work clothes and coat and headed out to the barn.
March 12, 2013
Last night, I finally made it home and headed out to the barn to see what I needed to do and hopefully let Elliot go home. As I walked around the corner of the barn, I began apologizing. “Sorry, Elliot, I got here as quickly as I could, but I …” and my eyes landed on the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Her hair was trailing out of her pony tail, and her eyes drooped slightly, as she sat up on her bale of hay to stretch, yawn, and pull stray bits of straw from her clothes. She was gorgeous.
“Sorry, no Elliot. I’ll have to do for now.” I recovered enough to push one of the mugs towards her. “Oh, this is just what I wanted!” She tested the cocoa and took a long drink.
I glanced around the barn, and there were two fluffy kids nuzzling their mother, one of them still a little damp. Two pregnant goats stood in one corner away from the family.
“The other babies are out in the loafing sheds with their moms. I think that about six or seven have freshened. I got here just in time for this one.” She pointed to a kid in the corner. “So far, all females but one.”
“That’s good, right?”
“That depends.” My brain was on overload, so I let that one go.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?”
“Well, Elliot showed me the routine, shots and dip, etcetera, on the last one, so we can do it for the next, if there is one tonight, as long as there aren’t any problems.” She got up, dusted off her pants, and grabbed a bottle from the top of the barn wall. “Want to help me dip him?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I went over to the kid and stood against the side opposite Jodie. She unscrewed the top off the bottle and pushed it over the kid’s umbilical cord.
“Did you cut the cord?”
“No, either it pulled loose or momma goat chewed it. But I got some clippers to do it if it’s needed.”
Her comment from a minute ago finally caught up with me. “What kind of problems?”
She screwed the lid onto the bottle and put in back on the shelf. “Well, ones we can deal with, just normal stuff like helping her or turning them. Anything we can’t handle, we call Elliot or Sheila or the vet.”
I liked the sound of this “we” thing. “So, you’re staying?”
“Yeah, that was the plan. I asked for the morning off, so I’m good until Elliot gets back. I hope you don’t mind me inviting myself over. I was over at Sheila’s and I figured you could use the help, unless you got this?” She handed me a rag, kept one for herself, and we rubbed the damp kid all over, as it continued to nurse its mother.
“Oh, God, of course not. We’re staying out here?”
“Well, we could, but you have a baby monitor.” She pointed to the monitor on a shelf behind me. She made no attempt to move, so I sat down and sipped my cocoa. We stared at the newborn kids.
“Does anybody look … ready?” One of the does, her belly pooched out like an overloaded pack mule, looked at me and chewed her cud in a blasé fashion.
“Elliot said there were a bunch in line, but no one is in labor right now. Believe me, you’d know.” She kneeled down, put her forehead on the mama goat. “I love that they have been handled so much.” She scratched the goat’s neck. “No, they’ll wait ‘til 3 a.m. when you’re dead asleep. Or they may not go at all tonight. Elliot says when they start coming, there’s not much of a lull, though.” She hopped up. “We can go in now, if you’re ready?”
I nodded.
Jodie flicked on a flashlight and pulled the chain on the barn light. In silence, we walked along the edges of the flashlight’s circle and into the house, then we pulled off layers of farm clothes and boots and hung them up in the mud area.
“You hungry?” I started to open the fridge, afraid what I would find there.
“Starving. I brought some leftovers from my dad’s Elks meeting. I’ve learned to bring food when I come out here.” She shoved my arm with her elbow. I made a mental note to stock the fridge.
After dinner, I put on a movie for background noise, and we talked a little about my trip and local happenings for a while. She piled on the couch, legs shoved to the back middle, which left enough room for me to face her from the opposite side of the couch. The rest of the evening I felt this crazy mix of utter content and nervous longing. I am certain she picked up on my nervousness, not knowing whether to get up or stay put, so at one point she hopped up and grabbed a couple of blankets for us from my bed.
“I guess I should go to bed.”
“No, you’re fine.” She laid the blanket over me, and re-positioned herself on the couch, covering up with her blanket. I fell asleep moments later, dreaming about her sock-covered toes curling up against my shins.
March 18, 2013
I have been running non-stop between two new work projects, the regular farm stuff, and bringing numerous goat lives into the world. Jodie has been over several times to help, and so far, there has been no trouble that she or Elliot (or even me a couple of times) could not work around. Sheila is back now, and she came over to look at the new recruits. She said she is always impressed by my dad’s and Elliot’s herd, “Now yours and Elliot’s,” she said. I don’t know why, but I actually did feel a little pride. It’s not like I had much at all to do with it, though.
March 19, 2013
Liv came by the other day and finally brought Frodo home. He smelled like a flower shop, but he did lick me and immediately curl up next to me on the couch.
Liv called him a traitor, jammed herself into the other corner of the couch, and folded her legs up. “Sorry it took me so long, we’ve been swamped. We’ve been meaning to get out here to help you with some of the house stuff.” She looked up at the ceiling and over to the loft where Nate sat when they were here last. “We’ve been waiting for some warmer weather, too. It looks like we might be near the end of the bad s
tuff, at least in a couple of weeks. I’ve been thinking about it. I like avocado for that wall,” she pointed, “where the sunlight hits it, it would be beautiful. But you want to do neutral tones to increase the number of likely buyers.”
I stared into her face and raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Well …”
“Would it be the stupidest thing ever if I stayed?”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about that. It may not be stupid. It would actually be really cool to have you close by. But can you handle all this?”
“Well, yes and no. I think I almost have my head out of my ass, but I know I can’t do it alone. Everything on the farm would be dead if it weren’t for Elliot and Bill and Jodie.”
“Hmm. That name, Jodie, keeps coming up. What’s going on there?”
“I wish I knew. I have gone from enchanted to obsessed over her, or maybe the other way around. She doesn’t seem to mind being close to me, and she has been over here A LOT.”
“Sounds like she’s into you, too.”
“Well, I am picking up a vibe, but she is not making any moves, and I have put myself out there more than a few times.”
“Maybe she wants you to make the first move?”
“She’s pretty direct on everything else.”
“Does she talk about boyfriends, girlfriends?”
“Nope, not once. But I don’t really talk about Ton-Ton or anybody else I’ve dated. I mean, she knows I’m gay, but that’s about it.”
“See, now that’s weird. She helps you with all the farm stuff, is over here all the time, and she never mentions past relationships. She has the hots for you.”
I burst out laughing at the prospect. “Well, she’s stayed over two nights, and one of them, we slept on the couch together.”
“This couch?” She looked down at the hallowed vessel. “Show me how. Like this?” She shoved her leg out and her toes into my crotch, sending Frodo to the floor with a questioning look.