A Hundred Ways to Love

by Ellie Wade

  Now, I’m never going to get another piece of Mimi’s bread.

  This sucks.

  two

  Liam

  “Holy shit!” I yell out as I slam my foot against the brakes as hard as I can. My hands clench around the steering wheel, my knuckles strained white with fear-gripped anticipation of the horrible thud to come.

  I’m propelled forward, and my chest hits my seat belt, sending me back into the seat. The truck has come to a complete stop. I don’t loosen my desperate grip on the steering wheel as I cautiously look out the windshield.

  Inches away from the front end of my truck is a woman. She’s standing, untouched.

  Oh, thank you.

  I say a prayer of gratitude as I swing the door open and jump out of the truck.

  My gratitude turns to anger as the thought dawns on me that I could have killed this chick because she decided to step in front of a moving vehicle.

  “What the hell? Are you okay?” I say to her as I round the front of my truck.

  She opens her eyes wide, and the next angry question I was going to shout out gets lodged in my throat because I know those big green eyes. I’d know them anywhere.

  “Eleanora?”

  This seems to snap her out of her state of shock.

  “William,” she scoffs, her beautiful greens squinting in anger, as she uses my formal name as if we were nothing more than mere acquaintances.

  “It’s Liam,” I answer her like I always do.

  “Yeah, well, you know damn well that it’s Leni. What are we, seven years old again?”

  “Yeah, I knew a Leni,” I admit, “but I lost her years ago.” I hate that my voice comes out thick with emotion, but when it comes to Leni, I can’t help it.

  She rolls her eyes and begins to stomp the rest of the way across the road.

  “Wait! Leni, stop.”

  God, this woman drives me insane.

  Woman? I suppose she is.

  The last time I saw Leni, she was sixteen. I guess she’s twenty-three now. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought about her a little too much over the years. Despite her irrational and inexplicable hatred toward me, I’ve always found her insanely gorgeous.

  She no longer wears her little pixie cut that she insisted on in her preteen years despite her mother’s pleas to let it grow. Her chocolate-brown locks fall in waves down the center of her back. Her nose and the tops of her cheeks are still spattered with light freckles that have always turned me on way more than they should have. And yet the part of her that has always gotten me is her eyes. They’re a deep emerald green, and I can’t describe them any other way but to say that they almost sparkle—usually with rage when they’re directed my way but a sparkle just the same.

  “What do you want, Liam?” she says with a sigh as she turns toward me.

  “Was that hard to say?” I smirk, knowing she wants to call me by my formal first name, just as I want to call her by hers. It’s always been a tool of ours, a surefire way to piss the other one off.

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “Well, I want to know why you just walked in front of my truck.” Anger builds as I remember what just happened. “I could’ve killed you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t mean to walk in front of you. I was thinking about stuff and clearly wasn’t watching my surroundings. I’m just tired. Thank you for not killing me.” She turns and starts to walk away from me.

  “Wait!”

  “What?” she snaps.

  “What are you doing here?” My attention falls to the large bag she’s pulling behind her.

  “I’m going to Mimi’s.”

  “Do you want a ride?”

  She shrugs. “No, it’s fine. I can walk.”

  “You’re going to walk to the farm?” I ask slowly.

  “Yeah,” she says with a nod, as if it’s not a big deal.

  “That’s stupid, Leni. Let me drop you off. I’m obviously going that way.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m fine with walking.”

  I just want to scream at her. How can she still be so stubborn after all these years?

  “Get in the truck!” I yell at her.

  “No!” she yells back.

  “Damn it, Leni! Get in the truck! You can’t even walk across the street without almost getting hit. How are you going to walk five miles to the farm? What would I tell your grandmother if you got plowed over by someone else?” I grab the handle of her bag and yank it from her grasp. I throw it in the back of my truck. “I would’ve thought you’d grown up some in the big city. Evidently, you haven’t.”

  She huffs as she climbs up into the passenger seat and slams the door closed. She crosses her arms across her chest. “Well, I can assure you that you wouldn’t know anything about that since you’ve never left this town. It’s hard to gauge appropriate human behavior since you only communicate with cows.”

  The second her seat belt is fastened, I hit the gas and peel out down the street. I can’t wait to drop her off.

  “Well, actually, I went to college for four years, so I have left this town. And I can assure you, I understand people just fine. Like, for instance, I can see perfectly clear that you’ve grown up to be a pretentious, judgmental witch, just like your mother.”

  She gasps. “I am nothing like my mother!”

  I chuckle. “Really? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  I’m ashamed of myself that I’ve stooped to her immaturity level. I should have never brought her mother into this. I know how much animosity exists between those two. Leni just makes me so insane with fury. I used to try so hard to be her friend, and she’s always pushed me away.

  She doesn’t have a rebuttal. I’ve silenced the girl who never shuts up, and I feel like an ass.

  “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, you did,” is her only reply as she continues to stare out the window.

  “Len, I’m sorry. I truly am. That was a shitty thing to say. I just don’t know why we’re still fighting. We’re adults. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

  She turns her head toward me, and I’m expecting anger, but in her eyes, I see something else. It seems that she’s looking to me with a sense of longing mixed with some sadness, but before I can be sure, she faces the window once more.

  I think back to when we were really young. I met Leni when I was six. She’s only a year younger than me, but she seemed so much smaller. I called her the girl with lucky eyes because they were the color of a four-leaf clover. Leni’s grandparents’ ranch and my parents’ ranch shared a border, and I spent my time in between them. Invisible borders weren’t taken into account when I was discovering new lands on my adventures. Leni’s grandparents didn’t care if I was on their land anyway. I first met her when she was playing in the rows of corn during one of her summer visits. At six years old, I considered her my best friend. We played every day that summer and every summer after that until the summer of my fourteenth birthday. She turned into quite the brat that year, and it only got worse.

  I tried to remain friends with her, but she wasn’t enjoyable to be around. I went over to see her when she arrived the summer of my seventeenth birthday. It was a mistake, and I stopped trying after that. I was busy helping my dad with the cattle and crops. I didn’t have time for Leni’s juvenile games.

  Yet I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t look toward her grandma’s house every time I passed it over the past seven years, hoping that Leni might be there and that I’d get to see a glimpse of her even if just for a second.

  I guess you never forget your first love even if I didn’t realize back then that was what she was.

  “So, how long are you in town?” I attempt to lighten the heavy mood.

  “Not sure. Hopefully, not long.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you. You look good.” The last statement is a gross understatement. She doesn’t look good; she looks incredible.

  “Okay,” she scoffs with
an edge to her voice.

  I grip the steering wheel tighter and close my mouth shut. My chest feels heavy in a way I can’t fully comprehend. We’re exactly where we left off the summer of my seventeenth birthday.

  I’m relieved when we finally arrive. I park my truck in front of the barn and turn off the engine.

  “I can walk in by myself. You’re free to go,” Leni says as she hops out of my truck.

  After exiting the truck, I lift her suitcase from the back and set it down on the ground.

  “Okay, thanks. But I have some work to take care of in the barn,” I force myself to say without attitude.

  She walks around the truck and grabs ahold of her suitcase handle. “Why are you doing work in Mimi’s barn?”

  “Because it’s my barn.”

  “What does that mean?” she quips.

  I look to her in question. Does she not know?

  “You know I bought your grandma’s farm, right?”

  “What?” She asks, dropping her bags on the gravel driveway.

  “I bought the farm,” I slowly tell her again.

  “When? Why?” she shrieks, her eyes bulging with panic.

  “Um, a couple of years ago now, I guess. Because it was for sale, and it’s right next to my dad’s land. So, it just made sense to expand our ranch.”

  “Why would Mimi sell her land? Where is she living? So, you just kicked her out on the streets? Why would you do this to her? She’s been nothing but kind to you your whole life!” Leni’s eyes are brimming with tears.

  I raise my hands in an attempt to calm her. “Shh. No, it’s not like that. I didn’t kick her out, Len. She’s free to stay in her house for as long as she wants. I’m just farming the land, is all.”

  I don’t know if Leni heard a word I said. She just looks to me with so much loathing.

  “I can’t believe you did this, William Moore.” She shakes her head as a tear rolls down her cheek.

  I reach out my arm to grab hers, but she bolts off toward the house before I can.

  I’m left here, watching her run away from me again. And, just like when I was a teenager, I have no idea why she harbors such disgust—and, worse yet, why it bothers me so much.

  three

  Leni

  I sprint toward the old farmhouse, leaving my belongings by the truck.

  I can’t believe Mimi sold everything!

  I’m across the front porch in two strides and swinging the front door open.

  “Mimi!” I shriek when I enter the house.

  My grandma comes hastily out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, a look of concern spread across her face.

  My tears flow harder because she’s aged so much in the five years since I last saw her. She has more wrinkles than she’s ever had and looks tired.

  Why haven’t I come to see her in five years?

  The guilt weighs down on me as my panic rises.

  She wraps her arms around me, and I melt into her embrace as sobs rack my body. She leads us over to the sofa, and I continue to cry as she holds me.

  My emotions are playing a game of ping-pong on my heart, and they’re still not enough for me to even pinpoint why I’m so upset, but I am. I’m devastated.

  And it’s not just one thing either; it’s so many, and maybe that’s why I can’t focus on a single cause.

  A loving hand continues to rub my back, but the tears won’t abate. I’m so broken. I’ve lost everything I’ve ever wanted. The dream I’d had for my life died the moment I stepped on that bus. There’s so much guilt.

  How could I not know that my grandmother sold her life’s work, her legacy? Why haven’t I been back to see her?

  There was always an excuse as to why—work, money, homework, bills, commitments. The list was vast, five years of excuses.

  I’m no better than my parents. Liam is right. I’m a horrible person.

  Speaking of Liam, seeing him again caused so much emotion to well up inside me—most of which, I can’t name. His presence made me uneasy, and I can’t figure it out.

  Eventually, my tears run dry, and I pull my wet face away from Mimi’s chest. She smiles at me and wipes my face with her apron.

  “I’m so sorry,” I choke out.

  “Shh … don’t you worry yourself, baby girl.”

  Her smile has always made me feel so loved.

  “Why did you sell the farm? Why would you do that? Why didn’t Dad help you if you needed money? I don’t understand what’s going on.” I attempt to remain calm.

  “Oh, my Leni girl.” She swipes a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You’re tired. You’ve had a long couple of days. All this can wait. First, you need to eat.” She pats her lap and stands.

  “But, Mimi—”

  “It can wait, dear. I just pulled some bread out of the oven. Would you like a slice or two while I finish up dinner?” She walks into the kitchen.

  OMG … bread.

  “Do you have jam?” I sniffle.

  “How about some raspberry?” she asks while surveying the contents of the refrigerator.

  “Yes!” I all but scream, making my grandma laugh.

  She has the best laugh. Always has.

  After I’ve stuffed a few pieces of warm amazingness in my mouth, I feel like a different person.

  “Feel better?” Mimi asks.

  “So much better,” I say through a mouthful of bread. Looking down at the plate before me, I see that I’ve almost polished off the entire loaf by myself.

  “Life’s woes are always worse when we’re hungry.”

  “I was so hungry,” I admit.

  She sets a glass of milk down on the table and takes my chin in her hand, looking me in the eyes. “I’m glad you’re back. I know it’s not what you wanted, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

  “I’m happy to see you, too. I’m so sorry I didn’t come back to visit.” My bottom lip begins to tremble.

  “No more of that.” She pats my knee before heading back over toward the stove. “You were living your life, dear. There’s nothing to apologize for. I’ve lived a great life, and I want that for you.” She pulls a chicken leg out of the bubbling oil and places it on a paper towel. “Plus, you called me every week.”

  “I know, but that’s not the same as seeing you. I’m sorry.”

  She finishes pulling the rest of the fried chicken out of the pan and brings the dishes of food to the table. She’s made all my favorites—fried chicken, homemade mac and cheese, rice, and gravy.

  “Mimi, you didn’t have to do all this.” I shake my head at the impressive spread before me.

  “I wanted to. It’s not every day that my Leni girl comes back to me. You deserve a suitable homecoming meal.”

  “This is way more food than the two of us can possibly eat.” I chuckle.

  “You know me. I can never make proper portions.” Mimi lets out a laugh.

  “So, please tell me about the farm. Why is that jerk out in your barn?” My insides twist up, and I feel my anger rising again, just thinking about Liam.

  “You mean, Liam? Oh, honey, he’s no jerk. He might be the sweetest man in Elkwood, to be honest. I know you can’t remember your grandpa very well.” She looks past me with a serene smile on her face, no doubt thinking about my pops who passed away when I was six.

  She continues, “But your grandpa was smart. He was a great rancher and businessman. When he passed, he left me with a sizeable savings to keep the ranch running. Unfortunately, he never really taught me how to do it all. Perhaps I should have asked for help. But you know me. I’m a hardheaded ole broad. There’s nothing I can’t do.”

  She grins toward me, and I know she’s thinking that I’m just like her. She’s told me many times that I remind her of herself, and that thought makes me proud.

  “So, I did it my way. I hired help and bought and sold livestock and crops as best I could. Yet, every year, I’d end in the red, and I’d have to dip into my savings to balance the books. Wel
l, after fifteen years of this, that money ran out. Truthfully, Leni, I was going to lose the farm. I had nothing left. I started inquiring around on the best way to sell it off, and Liam made me an offer.” She points her finger in my direction. “And I’ll tell you, it was more generous than it should have been. I told him as much, but he wouldn’t hear it. He bought my land for more than anyone else would have. Then, to top it off, he insisted I stay in my house. He won’t even accept rent. That boy saved me, Leni. He saved me.” Her voice trails off.

  “Why didn’t you ask Dad for help? You know he has the money.”

  “Oh, my son has left me and this life behind. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the way it is. He’s never wanted anything to do with this farm. I’ll always love your father, Leni; he’s my only son, but he didn’t grow into a good man. Call it pride or stubbornness, but I couldn’t reach out to him. I just couldn’t do it.” She shakes her head.

  “I know what you mean,” I say with a sigh. “I’d never ask my father for help either. Why didn’t you tell me about the farm? That you were in trouble and had to sell? You never mentioned it.” My voice lowers with the last sentence. Hurt permeates my chest. I press my palm against it just to ease the pain.

  “Oh, baby girl.” Mimi dismissively waves her hand out. “Why? There wasn’t anything you could’ve done about my financial situation. It would’ve just made you sad for me. I didn’t want you to worry when you were so far away. I wanted you to focus on your schooling.”

  I take in Mimi’s words, and I know she’s right. It would’ve devastated me, and unfortunately, there wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done. Renewed anger fills me as I think of my father and the fact that he could’ve helped if he’d bothered to check in on his mother even once in the past several years.

  “You know, Dad, he was right about me though. I’ve failed, Mimi. I went to an amazing school and lived in one of the greatest cities for art in the world, and I couldn’t make it.”

  “Oh, heavens. You are not a failure, not in the least. You had a dream, and you went for it. That, my girl, already makes you a success. Making it is subjective. What does that even look like? There are countless ways in which you can gauge your success. You know what I say? I say, if you get to wake up every day and do what you love, then you’re living your best life. That’s all any of us can do. There’s no reason you can’t work on your pretty pieces here, now is there?”