She stood up and twisted her hair into a loop on the back of her head before stuffing it inside her cap.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Back to snake country?”
I held my wrist up to look at my watch and it was still running. Unwilling to rush the magic of the moment, we strolled across the lawn, retracing our steps along the footpath, side by side taking turns with who was on the stepping stones and who was off. By the time we got back to where we’d left off work, we were about fifty percent dry.
The rest of the time went by too fast. I actually could’ve gone on for another couple hours and our progress was incredible. But around one o’clock we heard a cough behind us and we both turned to look.
“Dad,” Bettina said, her voice slightly panicky. “Why’re you home?”
I’d never seen Mr. Diaz looking soft and thoughtful the way he looked at that moment. The man I’d seen before was a guy in control. A guy who oozed the word respect, but also someone you wouldn’t mess with.
“I dropped Nana off at the barbecue,” he said, “but I wanted to come home and see how you were doing.”
He gave me a look that seemed half interested and half suspicious, for which I couldn’t really blame him. Who was I, after all? The hired help home alone with his precious daughter.
“Nice work,” he said, and nodded at me in particular, as if he was giving me the signal it was time to clear out.
“I guess I’d better get going,” I said, grateful we were both completely dry by then although we probably looked a mess to him. Hopefully, I thought, that could be explained away by sweat and hard work. “See you next week.”
After that, it was a long and lonely drive back home.
Thirty-Six
Iwon’t say my life came to a standstill during the school week because it still had its moments. There was still locker-time with Masie in the mornings, although that was becoming less and less interesting to me. There was still hanging out with my friends, which consisted of talking about girls, sports and video games, although I was usually only half listening and not letting on anything about Bettina, which I wanted to keep private until I knew where I stood with her. There were still the days I picked up Khalil and, fortunately, I never ran into Bettina again. And there was still always lots of action around my house.
So, I won’t say my life came to a standstill because life never does even though plenty of times I’d like to pause and rewind it or pause and fast-forward. But I will say I was looking forward to the weekends a lot more than Monday and Friday and everything in between. I will say Bettina was in my thoughts even during the days I wasn’t with her. And it wasn’t like it had been with Masie, which was a hundred percent pure lust—not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong, but nothing more than a thing. I realized I never really listened to Masie and she didn’t really listen to me. And why should we, when our minds were both someplace else?
With Bettina, it was different. I’d spent time learning who she was and each hour we were together, we peeled off a few more of the layers everyone carries around for protection. And that was the exciting part, like a mystery novel you don’t want to put down and you never want to end. That’s what I was feeling for Bettina.
I had mixed feelings that last weekend—excitement about regaining my freedom, but anxiety about Bettina. Sunday, I’d find out how she felt about us—if she wanted to keep seeing me or if it was going to be bye-bye Beau. It’s not like I was proposing marriage or anything, but it almost felt that nerve-wracking. In one more week, there’d be a real marriage and then my family would get back to normal and—just maybe, if things worked out—Bettina could come over and see for herself what my life was like.
“Where do you want to go to college?” she asked that last Saturday. We were so close to the end, rushing to finish in time.
“I’m not going to college,” I said. “I’ve always loved building things and my dad knows someone who’s a contractor. He doesn’t have kids and he’s getting older, so he’s looking for an apprentice to help out. If I make a commitment to work with him for three years, he’ll teach me everything he knows and even pay for my classes. And then who knows?”
“That’s what you want to do?”
“Yep, that’s what I want to do. Maybe a few years at junior college . . . get an AA. How about you?”
“Something to do with agriculture. I’m going to inherit the Ranch one day, so I need to know what I’m doing.”
“That’s a big responsibility.”
“Not when you love it like I do.”
I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to love a place. I didn’t love a place, only people. Only my family. But I could see how it would be possible to love the Diaz Ranch, especially if you’d spent your entire life there.
Even while we were talking, half of my brain was rehearsing the next day’s scenario. We would finish up for the day and hopefully the snake fence would finally be done. I was pushing hard to make that happen, only taking fifteen minutes for lunch on Saturday over Bettina’s objection. Then, when it was over, I’d ask Bettina if she wanted to take a drive, and that was something I was pretty sure she’d say yes to. There was a place not far from the Ranch, a trailhead where you could leave your car and hike into miles of open space. It was pretty there, and quiet—not quite a park but lots of trees and shade. I’d seen it on my way home and stopped to scope it out.
Hidden from Bettina behind the seat of the truck would be the picnic lunch I’d packed that morning. Even though I wouldn’t have china plates, Arnold Palmers, chairs, cloth napkins or a table, I’d spread out a red checkered cloth in the bed of my truck and I’d serve her lunch in my style. When we were done, I’d take her home and casually ask if she wanted to hang out with me sometime.
That was my plan and I was going with it. Smooth? Maybe even Khalil could’ve come up with something better, but I couldn’t so I hoped she’d like it.
In California where I live, sometimes the hottest days are the ones right before the weather turns cold—Indian summer, they call it, although I’m not sure why. This was one of those days: a heat so ferocious you knew it would expend itself by night, giving way to a shiver-inducing darkness; the air so still, it could annihilate any breeze dumb enough to take it on; and the quiet . . . that’s what always got to me, the quiet that made you feel sad for something you were about to lose. That’s the kind of day it was, and it hung heavy like the wet shirt I’d had on when I climbed out of the pool.
Bettina and I were together that day, but we were also apart.
“Even though you said last week she’s not mad at me, I still feel bad,” Bettina blurted out, “about your mother.”
“I told you it’s not a problem. She’s fine. Not mad at all. Not furious, not even angry.”
“I want to do something to make it up to her,” Bettina said. The two of us had tied so many ties, I believed we could tie them in our sleep. We didn’t have to look at what we were doing anymore, although that day I was fixated on them, more as a way to keep myself grounded. “I’d like to buy her something. What does she like?”
Wow. I have to admit that stopped me cold, it was such an alien concept to me. But then I reminded myself it wasn’t Bettina’s fault if she thought like that. She’d been isolated on this ranch with all her money for her entire life.
“You don’t wanna do that, Bettina,” I said as gently as possible. “That’s not the way you get friends. And if you do get friends that way, they’re the wrong kind.”
She flushed rosy-red in her cheeks through the richness of her natural color, so I could tell my words were hard on her. I hadn’t meant to embarrass her, but I didn’t want Bettina to think my folks were something that they weren’t.
“One day you can just make a nice gesture,” I mumbled, not wanting to bring up the subject of hanging out just yet. After all, it wasn’t quite time.
Thirty-Seven
The average perso
n would probably be bored hearing about that Sunday morning. Waking up an hour earlier than I usually did. Packing up napkins and paper plates. Slopping together a few sandwiches and throwing in some fruit for good measure. Filling a thermos with real lemonade instead of my usual water. Washing the only two matching plastic cups we owned. Scrounging around for a box of cookies the twins hadn’t decimated. Even hosing the dust off the truck, which seemed to surprise my parents. Getting in the truck and realizing it was almost on empty. Driving two miles out of my way to get the cheap gas from the cheap gas station, and then having to turn around and go back home because I’d forgotten my wallet. That’s just the normal type of stuff that happens to people who aren’t even distracted and nervous. But arriving at the Diaz Ranch twenty-five minutes late and finding Bettina still perched on the post, still waiting for me like she knew all along I was just running late and would be there sooner or later . . . well, that was what made everything up to that point so worth it.
Driving down the long gravel lane with the tires crunching underneath us, I realized this would be the last time I made this trip involuntarily.
“You know what today is?” I asked, since Bettina hadn’t said a word.
“It’s your last day,” she said. “I know.”
“I was going to say it’s the day we finish the snake fence.”
“You think we’ll make it? I’m not so sure.”
I pulled up under the oak tree like I’d done seven times before and we got out. Bettina was definitely in a mood that day, and I was too, but probably for a different reason. We trudged silently up to the gate and I opened it, waiting for her to go first the way Papa insisted even though some girls thought that was sexist. When I went through and closed the gate behind me, we stood for a minute and admired our work. It was clean and expertly done. I don’t think Ray could’ve found an uneven spot or a tie that hadn’t been clipped just right, a post that was untethered where it should’ve been. Not even if he went along every inch of the perimeter and took a whole day to check it out. We’d done a pretty perfect job. Now it was time to put a finishing move on it.
As if to reinforce the nervous uncertainty of that day, it was stifling hot and the sun wasn’t about to give us a break, not even with one lousy cloud. Bettina stopped to wipe the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.
“You’ve got dirt on your face,” I said, but she didn’t fall for the trick that time.
“Now you’ve got more,” she said instead.
“No filter.”
“Always have to have the last word.”
I glanced over at the work we’d done so far. The end was in sight—so close and yet so far.
“You know a little game I always play,” I said. “I try to match up people with their spirit animals—like an animal they resemble physically or maybe just in their actions.”
“So, what’s my spirit animal?” she asked.
“That’s the thing . . . I can never quite pin one down for you.”
“Are there any candidates?”
“I have a few. An owl . . . a fawn. But neither one fits. You’re just you.”
“Remember, I’m The Beast,” she said sullenly. “That’s my spirit animal.”
“Don’t say that, Bettina. It bothers me to hear you say it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not true.” I looked over at her, hoping she could read the meaning behind my eyes, that I was genuinely beginning to develop feelings for her.
“How can you be sure?” was all she said, and then we both went back to work.
A few hours passed without too much talking and I was ready for a water break. I kept my cooler in a shady spot close to the gate.
“Want me to grab a water bottle for you?” I asked. “I’m getting one for myself.”
And just then I saw Mr. Diaz winding his way down the footpath toward where we were working.
“I didn’t know your dad was home,” I said. “Isn’t he supposed to be at church?”
“Nana went with someone else,” she said quietly. She didn’t even look at me when she said it, like she couldn’t bear to rip her attention from the tie she was cinching. “Dad said he wanted to keep me company today.”
I thought it was strange she hadn’t mentioned it. Bettina kept working without once looking up all the while I was waiting for Mr. Diaz to get to where we were.
“Good morning, Beau,” Mr. Diaz said when he was near enough. “Or is it afternoon yet?”
“Good morning,” I said and checked my watch. “It’s technically three minutes into the afternoon.”
“You two have done a fine job, a really fine job,” he said. “You’re almost done, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said and wondered why Bettina wasn’t saying anything, and why she wasn’t looking at her dad.
“I’ll tell you what,” Mr. Diaz said. “Why don’t you put away your things, Beau, then come around to the house to see me. Bettina, why don’t you go get dressed, Honey, and I’ll take you out to lunch.” He turned and walked back up the path toward the house.
He was going to take her out to lunch? There went my plan for the surprise picnic. I was going to have to think fast to come up with Plan B. But whatever I came up with in the next few minutes was bound to be a disaster.
Bettina acted like she hadn’t heard a word he said, and she kept working away like he hadn’t even been there. Like I wasn’t even there. I pulled off my gloves and wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Why didn’t you say anything to your dad?”
“It’s important,” she said, “to finish the snake fence.”
“Why do you think your dad wants to talk to me? It’s not one o’clock yet.”
She didn’t answer.
“Bettina, you know that Ray or someone else will finish the fence if we don’t.”
And still she didn’t answer.
“Hey, how do I get to the house?” I asked. “Back door, front door, delivery entrance?” I only half-joked.
“Go to the front door and ring the bell,” was all she said.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
And then I walked out the gate and all the way around to the front door where I rang the bell for the first time since that day I came looking for a solution to Maman’s car accident.
Thirty-Eight
“Ah, Beau,” Mr. Diaz said when he opened the door. “Come on in, son.”
He stepped back, opening a path for me into the palatial ranch house I’d never seen from the inside before.
“Let’s go to my office,” he said.
I followed him through a huge rambling room with overstuffed leather sofas and chairs that looked so soft and buttery it seemed you could melt into them and never have the energy or desire to get up again. A huge wall-mounted TV beamed a cool image of a green expanse of lawn with a white golf ball bouncing and then rolling smoothly, stopping inches from a hole. An immense aquarium built into a stone wall where fish as colorful as the flowers in the orchard darted behind giant chunks of pink and green coral when we walked by. He led me into his office, the walls of which were lined with bookshelves filled with more books about agriculture and avocados and vineyards than I could take in all at once.
“Have a seat.”
He motioned me to the red leather chair facing his enormous desk, and he took a seat in a chair behind the desk, which looked like it cost more than my family made in a month. He opened a drawer and rummaged through it until he came up with a pen, then he carefully pulled a single sheet of paper from the top of a stack to his right. All this time I was a little stunned into silence, trying to come up with a logical reason for what was happening. Mr. Diaz scribbled something on the sheet of paper and then pushed it toward me.
“Bettina wrote this,” he said. “She does a lot of the paperwork for our business. Smart girl, that one.” His pride couldn’
t be more obvious.
I glanced down at the form in front of me:
Today’s Date:______
Both parties agree that the work obligation has been completed and there is no further obligation on the part of either of the undersigned regarding the traffic incident on ______.
Signed:
Beau LeFrancois
Lupe Diaz
“Should I sign now?” I asked, and he nodded, sliding the pen toward me.
Once I signed, I passed the form back to him and he got up to use the copy machine on the shelf behind him. He handed me the original.
“It’s yours to keep,” he said.
I stood up, figuring our business was done and wanting to hurry to intercept Bettina before she came into the house. My picnic was a bust and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do to salvage the day, but I knew I at least had to talk to her privately. Mr. Diaz stood and extended his hand across the desk, so I took it and we shook.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I can see you’re a fine young man and you’ve got a strong character.” Well, at least we got the issue of character settled, I thought. “I can also see you might be a little sweet on my daughter, and that’s fine by me as long as you treat her respectfully.”
Whoa! I couldn’t believe my ears. All my worrying about rejection—at least now I was in tight with Mr. Diaz. All I had to do was convince his daughter, and I hoped it wouldn’t take too much convincing.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, blushing furiously.
“I had a good feeling about you when I told Bettina I was going to release you from working after that first weekend. I didn’t really want to punish you, but I was worked up about those darn kids coming onto our property and stealing avocados at night. I know it didn’t have anything to do with you. And what happened with your mother and Bettina, well, that was just one of those unfortunate circumstances that could’ve happened to anyone.”
We were both still standing, and I nodded but what I heard didn’t make any sense. He said he wanted to release me after the first weekend. And then what? I didn’t have to wait long to get my answer.
Beau and Bett Page 15