by Elsie James
“I’ll be with you the whole time, and Ainsley will be there too. If it gets too stuffy, we’ll just leave. There is nobody who wants to protect you as much as I do. Trust me with this, you will be fine.”
His eyes make a promise that he will take care of me, and I believe them. Besides, the Romanos are good people. They always have been. It’s the Olympic-sized swimming pools, the status symbols, and the expectation of perfection that make me anxious.
So many people in our town would give up anything for an invitation to life on Snob Hill. My mom did. She handed over her freedom and then spent a lifetime resenting my dad for accepting it. But, that’s not me. I have no interest in that life. But this is different. He knows me. And it’s a simple request. I agree to go.
Chapter 5: Hunter
Juni comes out of her apartment in a beautiful green dress that hugs her hips and shows off her ample curves. I kiss her as she gets in, appreciating every inch of her full figure.
Security lets us into the second gate of our property. After parking, I take Juni by the hand and lead her into the grand foyer of my family’s ranch. I’m used to opulence, but even for someone who grew up on her own ranch, this must seem over the top. Our property is a perfect picture of all the things she left behind. But maybe if she can see that we are a family who cares for her and for each other then she will be able to see herself here with me. At least, I hope so.
We enter the dining room. The kitchen staff has prepared a three-course meal.
“Juni, welcome.” Dad extends his hand to her as he enters the dining room.
I pull out a chair for Juni, next to me and directly across from Dad. He is always good at disarming people.
“Thank you, and congratulations on your retirement. The party was beautiful.” She smiles at him.
“Yes, yes, thank you. Ainsley did an exceptional job of pulling it all together. It’s nice to see Hunter here with an old friend.”
Ainsley smiles in Juni’s direction. Juni looks beautiful at the table with my two sisters. As the baby of the family, Ainsley is always protective of me. Our relationship can be intimidating to the girls I date. My oldest sister, Amelia, can be tough too, quiet and reserved as she is. But, not for Juni. She has known all of us for too long to fall for that act. She fits in seamlessly.
“What’s the grin for?” Ainsley provokes me with a smirk.
“It’s nice to have a girlfriend that you two actually enjoy.” I gesture to my sisters and they chuckle.
Juni falls into a natural conversation as the food is carried out. I watch her sitting at the table with my family. Juni belongs here. I hope she is starting to see that.
“So, you two, I suppose congratulations are in order.” Dad looks expectantly from me to Juni.
Juni looks at me confused. I slide her chair close to mine and squeeze her thigh. The thing about our Romano family dinners is that they can tend to feel like a cross between an interview and a business meeting.
“Congratulations?” Juni asks cautiously.
“Yes, on the upcoming move. Hunter here has accepted a position as the Director of Philanthropy for Bellissima Vineyards. His first initiative will be in arts education. There’s already a program in the works. He’ll be heading south to L.A. for two years.”
She looks shocked. I am annoyed with myself for not talking to her about it before we arrived. But then, I hadn’t expected Dad to bring it up. I wanted to surprise her, but not here and not with my entire family watching.
“Hunter? You’re moving?” Her words are short and over-announced. I can’t tell whether or not she is excited. Her face gives nothing away. But I know it is time to let her in on the details.
“No. I thought we could move together. The initiative is delivering art to kids. Just like what you are doing at that school with Rachel. We’ll head this project side by side.” I smile sincerely. “You will be so happy there, away from life on this hill.”
A sense of foreboding fills me as I watch her eyes go dark.
“Move? Hunter, I don't want to move. I like my life here. I love my apartment. I already bring art to children who need it and I am committed to them. I don't need a fancy title. I don’t need you planning my life without even consulting me.”
Juni stands abruptly and slides her chair in. “Excuse me.” She gives Dad a strained smile and walks out of the glass door.
Confused, I follow her onto the deck. “Hey, wait a minute.” I reach for her but she takes a step back. “Juni, I thought you would be happy. I’m trying to carve out a peaceful place for you in my chaotic world. I want you to be a part of it every day.”
When she looks up, her face is flush with anger. She raises her voice. “You made a decision about my life for me without even talking to me about it. Just like my parents. Just like my ex. There’s a reason I left those things behind.”
Her comparison of me to another man who once thought she belonged to him makes my blood boil. I ball my fists furious at the thought.
She continues without taking a breath. “You’re trying to force me into a life I don’t want. You are this life, initiatives and hand shakes. And you’re good at it. I’m not. I lived a life on Snob Hill once and I barely survived. I can’t do it again.”
She starts to cry and I move closer. I grab her shoulders and hold her against my chest, not allowing her to pull away. I won’t lose her again. She can’t just show up after ten years, make me feel alive again, and then leave.
She leans into me. For a moment, I think that she understands that I can’t lose her again. But a minute later, she pulls back, eyes dry and face emotionless. Desperate to see the joy return to her eyes, I scramble to find clarity.
“Listen, you fit with me. You can still create. Have your art shows. Work at a local school. I will buy you any studio you want if you will just come with me. I don’t want to do this without you.”
I offer her every solution I can think of and they all fall flat. I can tell by the look on her face that she doesn’t believe me. But she is my future, and I can’t let her go until she understands that.
Tears explode from her eyes. “You’re asking me to sell my freedom. That is not a compromise I can make. I need to go home. Alone. I thought maybe we could work, but you haven’t changed. You’re still the guy in a tux on the stage, and I’m still the person who would rather make the flower arrangements. You can’t fix this, it’s who you are. Please call your driver to get me out of here.”
The thought of another man driving her home, taking care of her right now, appalls me. “No. I’ll take you home, just like I promised.”
I place my hand on her forearm, but she pulls it firmly from my grasp. “You promised to get me away from a situation that was too much. The situation right now is you, Hunter. I can’t be around you right now. Call a driver.”
She won’t let me near her. My body vibrates with worry and tension. How did this go so wrong so quickly? I pull my phone from my pocket, hating what I am about to do, but she has given me no choice.
Before I can dial a driver, the glass door opens. Ainsley steps onto the deck. “Hunter? Juni? What’s going on out here?”
Before I can respond, Juni turns to her friend, making a frantic plea. “Ainsley, I need a ride home.”
◆◆◆
I sit in my usual chair in the family boardroom. My mind focuses on finding a plan to get Juni back as a team outlines the details of the art initiative.
“Hunter, you will oversee our arts education initiative, correct?“
I glance up from my phone momentarily making eye contact with the board member. Since Dad’s retirement, there are so many new faces at these meetings. The transition to running this company without him has been painful.
“Correct.”
They ramble amongst themselves, numbers, data, press releases. I really thought this initiative could be Juni’s perfect corner of my world. She hasn’t talked to me in days. My life returned immediately to empty monotony without her.
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An idea crosses my mind. If I get the wheels turning on this project, she will see all the good it creates. Then she will reconsider.
I put my phone down, motivated for the first time in days. “So, what type of art specifically are we delivering?”
The room falls silent. Finally, a blond board member responds flatly. “All arts.”
“All arts?” I question her. “Ok. Who are the educators we have hired?”
“You won’t need to be involved in all the minute details. You can just attend the press meetings and keep a 400-foot view of the project.”
“Who are the educators we have hired?” I repeat and look around the room, expecting an answer.
“We will deposit a significant sum of money into the hands of the local politician. He is very passionate about children. He will take care of the details of distribution and make sure it ends up in the arts.”
That’s not what I signed up for. Furious, I raise my voice. “We’re handing money to a politician and trusting that he will allocate it for arts? There are no educators involved? How many children are we impacting and in which communities?”
I scan the faces around the table. Not one makes eye contact with me. My anger bubbles over.
“I need answers.”
Finally, the blond board member speaks. “No, kids know what to do when you hand them a crayon so we aren’t wasting money on teachers.” She challenges me. “We will hand out a box of supplies and get the photo. The press will be outstanding. We are going to bill this campaign as Bellissima Brings Art to the Artless.”
I stare at her in disbelief. This is not at all the initiative I outlined. Fury courses through me.
A man sitting next to her looks at me, a huge, condescending smile on his face. “We will send a photo team with you and set up a studio in your new condo. Once a week, all you’ll have to do is hold up a sample art piece that we’ll submit to you in front of the green screen. We’ll record thirty seconds of footage of you talking about how great it was to work with the kids. From that, we’ll be able to produce a fully-edited documentary about our work in the community, and you’ll never have to leave your house. You can spend your time at the pool, meeting some girls.”
Insulted and stunned, I press forward. “Where is the community?”
“Don’t worry. It’s nice. We aren’t expecting you to live in the slums for two years. You will be working with the impoverished kids of Hollywood Hills. That way, we can call it Los Angeles in the press release and people can draw their own conclusions about the actual location.”
I stand, slamming my fist on the table. Raging, I collect my belongings. Juni was right. This is the life I would have trapped her into, and it’s a nightmare. This isn’t how I want to use my privilege. A life of fake initiatives that make me sick.
“Hollywood Hills? You’ve got to be joking. I’m not spending my time on this bullshit initiative that serves nobody except our bottom line. You can find another smiling face to lead this project because we’re done.”
I don't need this, any of it. The ranch, the drivers, the house. It all means nothing without her. Juni knows how to live a life that matters. She can give me everything I ever wanted. I will get her back.
Chapter 6: Juni
I miss Hunter every minute. I wasn’t expecting to see him again, but now that I let myself love him, I can’t seem to stop. Hunter is loyal and loves me for who I really am. But his world is polarizing. It hurts that he thought I would move and leave everything I love. He didn’t even consult me. The thought of not having him in my life hurts even more, but what choice do I have?
Vulcan and I have spent the last few nights with my grandparents. There is always something soothing about coming here and sleeping in the tiny twin bed they save for me. Especially when my life out in the real world is devastated by the reality of not having Hunter in it.
I wake up to an unfamiliar sound. My grandparents’ voices are raised. Are they...arguing? In all of my thirty-one years, I’ve never heard my grandparents argue. I make my way down the hall and stand in the doorway to the kitchen.
“You never want me to spend time up there.” Grandma has her stubborn face on.
“Yes, I do. That’s why I built you the studio in the first place. I just thought you could watch the ball game with me first.”
“Harold, I don’t want to watch the ball game. I want to paint while the light is good.”
“All right, get on with it then. You paint.” Grandpa throws both of his hands up in frustration.
My grandma walks up the stairs towards her studio.
I follow her closely. “What was that about?” I ask.
“Oh, you know your grandpa. For fifty years, he’s been trying to turn me into a baseball wife. Ever since he played at Sandy Diamond in college, he’s wanted me in that world. Problem is, I hate baseball. Never have liked it.”
“But what about all the games we went to? All the times you gathered us to watch it on the couch?”
“Yes, of course. But for me, it was never about baseball. It was your grandpa I loved. So we compromised. He built me this beautiful studio so I could paint. As tiny as it is, it made all of my dreams come true. And so, I watch the games.”
I look at her in surprise. I never considered that she was making a compromise.
“Are you surprised, dear?”
“I guess I always thought your relationship was perfect. Silly of me now that I think about it.”
“My relationship is perfect. It’s perfect, but not without effort. It’s a perfect compromise every day over every decision, big or small.”
I look around her studio. I’m standing in their compromise. Everything she wanted creatively is wrapped up in this tiny room. A promise that a life with my grandpa would honor who she is.
Hunter made me that same promise, didn’t he? An art initiative that would allow me to have a life with him while still being me. Guilt washes over me when I think back to the way I treated him. He was trying to compromise with me, and I shut him down. Sure, he didn’t consult me. But I walked away from him just like I always do. With my parents and my ex, it was the right thing to do. But am I acting on habit? Because this time, the cost might be too great.
Grandma settles onto her painting stool, a tiny chair behind an easel with a perfect view. She peers at me around the side of her canvas.
“So, how is Hunter? I have always liked him, honey. Such a nice young man.”
“Hunter is… He is…” My eyes well with tears and I can’t quite get the words out.
“He loves you, I can see it. Tell him what you need. Trust him with that.”
I know she’s right. I can trust Hunter with what I need and we can live a beautiful compromise.
Light footsteps head up the stairs toward my grandma’s tiny art studio. The door squeaks open and my grandpa walks in, my tablet in hand. “Juni, how the hell do you work this thing?”
I smile through glassy eyes. “What is it you want to do?”
“Well, she’s gonna be up here.” He gestures at Grandma. “So, I figured you could turn the game on this thing so I can watch it where my love is.” Settling into the leather arm chair, he pats Grandma’s arm. She glows. A perfect love built on compromise.
I have to find Hunter. There has to be a way we can coexist. He can’t just walk away from his family, and I would never want him to. We can find a balance between my freedom and his lifestyle.
“What on earth?” Grandma says as she looks out of her window. My eyes follow her gaze and stop when I see a huge, chrome Airstream parked in front of their house. Hunter stands in the lawn with a brown rectangular package in hand.
Vulcan races me down the stairs. Running in circles around my feet. I pull open the front door. Hunter is already on the porch.
“Hunter, I’m sorry. I love you. I trust you. I... What is all this?”
“You are it for me. It’s always been you. I loved you for so long. When you disappeared from my li
fe, I made myself stop thinking about you. But I never forgot about you. As soon as I saw you again, I knew I could never be without you. You are my forever. I know you think you don’t fit into my world at Bellissima and maybe you’re right. But if you don’t fit, neither do I, because my world is wherever you are. So I got this, for us.” Hunter gestures at the airstream.
“That’s yours?”
“That’s ours. If you want it. Come on.” Hunter grabs my hand, pulling me toward the silver mountain parked in front of my grandparents’ house. He opens the door for me and steers me inside with a hand on my lower back.
Multi-colored floor-to-ceiling bins are labeled, “crayons”, “markers”, “pastels”, “charcoal”, “glue sticks,” and “scissors.” Each one is color coded. Canvas, sketch books, and a drawing table take up space along the interior wall. A wall made of cork displays push pins in a rainbow of colors. Instruments fill storage compartments and stacks of blank sheet music wait to be written to life. A little dog bed sits in the corner with Vulcan’s name painted along its side.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. This is paradise.
“I will never ask you to change who you are or take your freedom. What I’m asking you is to keep inspiring me. Share your life with me and trust me to honor who you are.”
My heart swells with his every word. Hunter is a good man. He knows I will never be the kind of girl who fits on Snob Hill and he loves me for it. He wraps me in the safety of his arms and I know I belong here.
“I love you Hunter.” My words escape from my mouth in a tiny breath.
“Here. This is for you.”
Hunter hands me the wrapped package. I peel the paper back to reveal a map of the USA. I smile at him confused.
“A map?”
“Yes, Juni. Pick anywhere on the map and I will take you there. We have enough supplies to bring art and music lessons to any place in the country that can’t afford them. We can set up shop, enrich the community, and then move on to the next town.”