A Hundred Ways to Love

by Ellie Wade

  “I guarantee you that Mimi doesn’t think you’re mooching. I know she loves having you there,” I tell her.

  “Oh, I know she does. But, still … I have to do something. I’m no longer a child, and this isn’t summer break. I have to contribute somehow.” Her hand goes up and down through the outside air, making a wave-like motion.

  The words come out of my mouth before I really think about them, “You could come and work for me.”

  What? What in the hell could Leni do on the ranch?

  “Really? What could I do for you on the ranch? I don’t know anything about that type of stuff.” Her concerns echo my own.

  I think for a moment before answering, “Well, a lot of the stuff is easy to learn, like putting out feed and water for the cattle. You could easily pick that up. Then, you could help me with the books, paying bills and stuff. Are you any good with numbers?”

  “It wasn’t my favorite subject in school. I know how to use a calculator though.”

  “It’s basic stuff really. I’m sure you’d be fine. You could organize my office. My filing system is more like stacks of papers from the past couple of years. It needs attention pretty badly. It’s just not high on my list of things to do, you know? Your hours could vary; it doesn’t have to be full-time. Then, you’d have plenty of time to work up in your studio.” As I talk everything out, Leni working for me makes more sense. Plus, I can’t say that I don’t love the fact that I’d see her every day.

  She doesn’t say anything for a beat. “Well, I suppose I could … even if just for a while until I figure something else out. I could set you up with a sweet office space. That could be fun. The rest I can learn.”

  “Great. Plus, you can’t beat the commute.”

  She laughs. “No, I definitely can’t! Okay … sounds like a plan.”

  thirteen

  Leni

  A gust of wind pulls the fabric of my tad-too-short sundress off of my ass, and I can only hope that the goods remain covered. I told Mimi that it wasn’t long enough, but she assured me that it was the perfect length. If I had known my hands would be completely occupied and unable to access the dress-over-my-ass situation, I’d have insisted that Mimi make it longer.

  I feel completely out of place as I make my way across the lawn toward the backyard of Emily and Westley’s home. First, I’m wearing pink and not just any pink; it’s obnoxious bubblegum pink. Mimi says it’s the perfect shade, but it reminds me of the gum that holds flavor for about two seconds but lets me blow huge bubbles.

  The directions on the invitation were clear—wear pink if you think it’s going to be a girl, or wear blue if your guess is a boy. And bring a dish to pass. That is why, in addition to my gift, I’m holding a heavy ceramic dish of baked beans, which, along with the dress, is also courtesy of Mimi.

  I’ve never been to a gender-reveal party or any of the gatherings leading up to a baby—engagement parties, bridal showers, none of it. My peers in Elkwood seem to be about ten years ahead of the crowd I hung with in the city.

  “Do you need help?” a familiar voice asks from behind me, amusement evident in his tone.

  “Yes, please,” I tell Liam, turning to give him the baked beans. “Where’s your gift and dish to pass?” I shake out my cramped hand in front of me, admiring Liam.

  He’s in jeans and a blue flannel-printed button-up shirt.

  “Dropped off the keg this morning, and the gift card is in my back pocket.”

  “Oh, that’s smart. I should’ve just done a gift card.”

  “Well, I’m sure your gift is more thoughtful. What’d you get them anyway?” He eyes the large gift I’m holding.

  I shrug. “Honestly, I have no idea. Mimi bought and wrapped it.”

  Liam throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, Leni.”

  “Hey, I’m trying. I’m wearing a new pink sundress. I mean, come on. You do realize that ninety percent of my limited wardrobe is black.”

  “Good job. You look great. The cowboy boots are a nice touch.”

  I grin. “Thanks. I thought so.” I eye the smaller box on top of the large one in my arms. “And I lied. I do know what the small box is. I painted them a little canvas for the nursery,” I admit.

  “Ah, there she is.” Liam chuckles.

  “Who?” I question.

  “The warmhearted version of yourself that you like to hide.” He grins.

  “Whatever. I’m not always cold.”

  “Not always. So, what did you paint them?”

  “It’s a cute little baby elephant. I even brought a brush and tube of blue and pink paint, so I can give it the appropriate-colored bow once we find out what the gender is.”

  “Look at you … being all thoughtful.”

  I shrug. “I told you, I have my moments.”

  “I know you do,” Liam says as we round toward the back of the house. His full and husky voice all of a sudden causes something in my belly to clench.

  The backyard is full of people, most of whom seem familiar. I obviously didn’t go to school here, but I think I’ve met a lot of these people through Liam or Emily at some point. It’s set up exactly how I figured Emily’s backyard party would be. There’s a long table with food, another full of presents, and pink and blue balloons everywhere. Most of the guys are congregating around the grill with a Solo cup of beer in hand.

  I set the presents down on the gift table.

  “Leni!” Emily’s cheerful voice calls my name before she pulls me into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She holds me at arm’s length and scans my attire. “So, you think it’s going to be a girl, too?”

  Her smile is so wide that I can’t break it to her that Mimi had this fabric folded up in a cedar chest in one of the spare bedrooms, which was the only contributing factor to my color choice. “I sure do.”

  “I do, too.” She shoots me a wink. “Of course, I’ll be happy with either. But I just have a feeling. You know?”

  No, I don’t know at all, but I nod anyway.

  Emily takes my hand. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

  I stand around with a group of women all wearing varying shades of pink. Everyone is really nice. They all know and love Mimi, so that helps with the initial connection.

  “So, Leni,” Emily’s friend Greta addresses me, “how is living in New York? Did you really like it? People say they love New York, but the only memories that stuck with me from when I was there as a child were all of the people everywhere and my dad screaming in rage at the other cars as we drove our rental through the city.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, those are two of the downfalls of living there—the tourists and the traffic. But I can honestly say that I did love it. You get used to all the people, and after a while, you find a cadence to the madness, you know? When I first got here, I missed the hustle and bustle of the city. And I never drove there. I truly don’t know how people do. I’m all about the public transportation. Less stress for sure. Your dad is a trooper for navigating through that traffic.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure it took ten years off of his life,” Greta kids.

  “Are you going to go back?” another friend asks me.

  “I’m not sure. I’m open to move anywhere that my art will sell.”

  “What kind of art do you do again?” Emily asks.

  “A little bit of everything, though painting is my favorite.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t move away anytime soon. Mrs. Turner will be heartbroken. She loves having you here,” Emily says.

  I smile warmly. “I know she does. I love being here with her, too.”

  I get asked a few more questions about New York, and I listen as the girls gossip about other stuff. This whole thing is strange—for me anyway—but oddly nice. Perhaps this is what it would’ve been like in high school had I tried to make friends. But I was content with being a sullen loner. I think I held so much resentment in my heart, growing up, that not only did I close out my parents, but almost everyone els
e as well. For the first time in my life, I kind of feel bad about it.

  I look across the yard to see Liam staring at me. When my eyes lock with his, his lips turn up into a sexy grin, and I smirk before smiling back. I can admit that I’m glad we’re friends again. As weird as this all is, it’s nice, too—being social, wearing pink, laughing with a group of giggling women, having Liam back. I don’t hate it.

  My smile fades when Camila shows up next to Liam and wraps her arms around him. He hugs her back. I pull my stare from Liam and turn my attention back to Emily and her friends. They’re all talking and laughing about something, but I don’t hear a word they’re saying. My stomach aches as my body is overcome with intense nausea.

  This is stupid.

  I excuse myself and head inside to use the bathroom. I’m shocked at the visceral reaction I felt when seeing Liam with Camila. It’s ridiculous. We’re barely friends, let alone anything else. I shouldn’t care what he does or who he does it with.

  What is wrong with me? I’m a nutcase.

  I finish washing my hands and stare into the bathroom mirror, taking deep, steadying breaths. I don’t want to go back out there. In fact, everything in me wants to just skip out of the front door and give my apologies to Emily later. But that wouldn’t be cool. I actually like this pink-wearing, semi-social, bread-eating, smiling person I’ve been as of late. I’m not going to let my emotions get the best of me.

  The greatest detriment to my happiness has been me for as long as I can remember and all in the name of self-preservation. I’m not the girl trapped in her parents’ house of evil anymore. There’s no cause to run. Liam isn’t mine, nor do I want him to be. I’ll be leaving here soon anyway.

  I have no reason to feel weird about my friend dating someone regardless of who he chooses to date. Camila would probably be my last choice for him, but it’s his life. My head knows what’s right; my brain is capable of rationalizing it all. But my heart and body aren’t following suit.

  “Just stop,” I whisper toward the mirror. “Be normal,” I chastise with a squint of my eyes, causing me to grin at my own ridiculousness.

  Letting out a sigh, I step back from the sink and open the bathroom door to rejoin the party.

  My eyes go wide, and my step falters. Liam is leaning against the wall with one leg bent, his cowboy boot positioned against the hard surface, propping him up. His arms are crossed over his chest. He pushes off of the wall with his boot and turns so that we’re face-to-face.

  “Are you okay? I saw you go into the house. You didn’t look well.”

  He wears a look of concern, and it kind of pisses me off. I’m not his problem.

  “I’m fine.” I step to his side, eager to distance myself from him.

  “Len”—he grabs my arm—“what is it? I can tell something’s wrong.”

  He sounds sincere, and knowing Liam, he probably is, but it annoys me just the same.

  “Just stop, Liam. I’m not your problem. I’m a big girl, and I can handle myself.” I shake my arm from his grasp. “Just go hang out with your girlfriend. I’m fine, really.” I press my lips into a tight smile and give him a reassuring nod before heading back out.

  In the backyard, Emily and Westley are standing under a tall tree with a giant gray balloon hanging from the lowest outstretched branch.

  I join the semicircle of guests around them, waiting for the big reveal.

  Liam positions himself beside me. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” his gravelly voice whispers into my ear, making my skin break into violent goose bumps.

  I swallow hard. “I don’t care one way or the other.”

  His fingers glide over the needy bumps present on my arm. “Are you sure about that?” he asks.

  I bite my lower lip and nod, words escaping me.

  “Okay, well, I’m not involved with anyone, but that doesn’t mean that there’s not someone I’m interested in. If you ever want to talk about that, you just let me know.”

  As he pulls his mouth away, he raises his hand and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. The simple motion, seemingly innocent, weighs heavy on my emotions. I lock my knees to stop them from buckling.

  Voices ring out around us, counting down from ten. As Liam joins in the countdown, he drops his arm to the side. The top of his hand skims against my skin, and he hooks his pinkie finger with mine.

  Emily pops the balloon. Cheers erupt as pink confetti showers down around her and Westley.

  I can’t remember the last time I smiled so wide, the effects of which I can feel all the way down to my toes.

  fourteen

  Leni

  Liam wasn’t lying when he said his office could use some work. When he first offered me the job, I thought it was just to be nice—a favor to me. And, though I think it started that way, now that I’m here, I realize he needs some help. He’s so busy all the time with things that have to be done on the ranch that he doesn’t have time for the things that should be done in his office.

  I’m sitting on the office floor, legs crossed, amid piles of paperwork when Liam walks in, carrying two brown bags.

  “I brought lunch, courtesy of Mimi,” he says with a smile. “Wanna head outside for a picnic?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t.” I continue when I see his smile fade, “I can’t lose my place, Liam. Look.” I point to a stack of receipts next to me. “These are the expenses from the first quarter of the year. Then, these are the second.” I place my finger atop another pile. I continue to point to all the piles around me. “This is the third quarter. These are expenses and itemized deductions. These are your mile calculations. These are the receipts that have been added up, and these still need to be.” After I’ve explained what another twenty piles are, I say, “I can’t get up now. I know this doesn’t look organized, but as long as I sit right here, I know what everything is. If I get up and lose my bearings, I’m going to be so lost. I can’t go through all these papers again.” I move my head from side to side. “I wouldn’t make it,” I say dramatically with a laugh.

  Liam chuckles. “Okay, but as long as you stay in that position … you’re good?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “As long as I sit right here, I know what everything is, and it all makes sense. It’s organized chaos. If I move at this point, it’s going to be just utter chaos.”

  “All right. Well then, we’ll have a picnic right here on the floor. Sound good?”

  “Yes!”

  “So, I’m just going to plop down right here in front of …” He points to a stack of receipts.

  “Those are the ones I have questions about,” I answer.

  “Perfect,” he says. “Well, we can address those after lunch.”

  He hands me a sacked lunch, and I pull out a sandwich.

  “Thank you. I’m starving. So, how’s life out on the ranch today?”

  “Good. You should come out when you’re able to leave your insane amount of piles. There are several cows that are due to give birth any day. You might catch a birth.”

  “Really?” I ask in awe.

  “Yeah. Remember the first time you saw one?”

  “I do.” I nod. “What were we? Seven and eight?”

  “Yeah, it was your second summer here, so you were seven.”

  I think back to that early summer day. Liam excitedly ran up to Mimi’s and grabbed me by the hand, telling me that a cow was having a baby. The two of us sprinted as fast as we could across Mimi’s land until we made it to the cow. I remember the birth itself being a little gross but fascinating. The baby calf was the cutest thing ever though.

  “Oh, I love how the calves suck your fingers. Remember that?”

  I recall going to visit that fuzzy little calf every day. He would suck on my pointer finger like it was a bottle. Liam and I used to giggle nonstop when we put our fingers in the calf’s mouth.

  Liam wears a wistful smile. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Do you remember what we named the first one I saw being born? It was something w
ith an R.”

  “You named him Rusty Roo.” Liam grins.

  “Oh, that’s right.” I nod. “I get the Rusty part because of his coloring, but where did I get the Roo part?”

  “I have no idea.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

  “That was a fun summer.”

  “It was,” Liam agrees. “Do you remember what else you did that summer the day before your mom came to get you?”

  I let out a sigh. “Uh, yeah. I took Mimi’s kitchen shears, pulled my hair back in a ponytail, and cut it right off. I knew my mother would hate my hair short. I was a rebellious little thing, wasn’t I?”

  “Was? As in past tense?” he kids.

  “Ha-ha.” I squint my eyes toward Liam. “You would have been, too, if you’d had a mother like mine.”

  “Probably so.”

  “Oh, definitely so. Your mom is nice and normal. Mine is just so …” My voice trails off because I can’t think of the right words to describe my mother.

  Distant? Cold? Snobby? Cruel?

  Maybe cruel is a little harsh. She never physically hurt me, but I’ve come to realize that words are often more damaging than physical marks, even the ones left unsaid. She never stood up for me once against my father. Maybe it would have been better if she’d hit me. Maybe then she wouldn’t have felt the need to lash out at me with her vile statements so often. Over time, the memories of her words have faded. But then there are some exchanges between the two of us that will forever be ingrained in my mind, weighing deeply on my heart. No matter how often I tell myself that it doesn’t matter what my parents think of me or say to me, there’s a small girl within me who still aches for the approval that will never come.

  “Hey”—Liam gently touches the top of my hand—“where’d you go?”

  I press my lips together in a line before saying, “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does though.”

  “Nah, I don’t really want to talk about my parents, Liam. You and I both know the type of people they are. There’s no use in wasting a second of my time worrying over what I wish they’d do or say or what they hadn’t done or said. It’s not important.”