by Nina Strych
She put aside her wine glass and tried to clear her head a little, but the booze was in her blood and she would just have to deal with it. “I don’t know what I’d do. The thing is, I don’t really know what’s going on his head in this situation. I’m guessing.”
Marion nodded, asked a few more questions then jumped up when the dryer buzzed loudly. As they folded her ridiculous number of t-shirts, she said, “You just have to keep your ears and your heart open. Make sure he feels okay to talk about it. There’s no escaping that there’s an imbalance between you when it comes to finances. You’ll just have to find a way to create a balance, some harmony so that it doesn’t intrude on the good parts.”
Amy nodded, seeing the wisdom there. She just didn’t know how to do it.
Thirty-One
Mike hung up the phone and put his head in his hands. Good news and bad news. They came and went together.
“Well,” Charlie said, pausing his video game and turning around on the couch to look at him.
“I got the job,” Mike said, smiling.
“And the other?”
“The agent said I’d walk away with cash, but not nearly what it would have been worth five years ago, before the fire.”
“That sucks, man.”
Mike got up and joined Charlie on the couch, looking at the frozen screen where his best friend was in the midst of battling something that looked like a giant troll.
He sighed and said, “Not really. The land is nearly paid off, so it’s still a good stake for a new place somewhere else. I just feel weird about it is all. It’s like it just got real.”
Tossing down the controller, Charlie turned all his attention on him. “You alright?”
Mike nodded and ran his fingers through his hair absently, making it stand up on one side. “I’m ready to change things, but it’s still hard. Amy is my future. I’m absolutely sure of that. This is my way into that future with something to my name.”
Charlie leaned forward and looked at him, almost seeming to search for something. Finally, he asked, “What does it feel like?”
“What?”
“This whole crazy love at first sight thing. I can’t imagine it.”
Mike laughed and said, “It wasn’t love at first sight. Lust for sure, but I knew right away that there was something there. It was pretty quick though, wasn’t it?”
“Yup,” Charlie said. “So what does it feel like?”
“Weird, scary. Completely awesome.” He shook his head as the memory of Amy laughing on the beach filled his mind in technicolor life. “You’ve had plenty of girlfriends. What about that girl in college? Rachel?”
Charlie made a noise and pushed back into the couch. “Not the same thing. Not at all. It was more like neither one of us wanted to go looking for better. And you know my policy now.”
“It’s money or no love,” Mike said, mimicking Charlie’s motto nearly perfectly.
“Exactly, my man. Exactly.”
“You can’t do this forever, you know.”
“Maybe not, but when I quit, it will be because I’m overdosing on Viagra too often.”
“You’re really gross, you know,” Mike said. “And I think you’re deluding yourself. You’re going to fall someday and she’ll be a school teacher or a lawyer or something. You’ll go 9 to 5 like you were born to it.”
Charlie made a warding sign and picked up his controller again. “Get thee behind me, devil,” he quipped.
Mike laughed and then went to iron his pants for work.
*****
“I’m pretty sure they’re going to make an offer and it should be in line with what we discussed. Are you still good with that? I’ve given them permission to send a team in to assess it. That gives us about two weeks before we hear anything if they hold true to form.”
His land agent was looking at Mike with an evaluating gaze. He knew the story and had done his research. Mike could tell by the way he was looking at him that the man was wondering if he could really go through with the sale.
Mike rubbed his hands down the front of his pants and kept his feet planted on the floor in front of his chair. “Sounds good to me. Any idea if there might be any non-corporate offers?”
The agent shook his head and looked down at the thick file of papers on his desk. “With the drought easing there’s always a chance, but no one wants groves like that anymore. It’s surrounded by other small growers so there’s no room to expand, too close to the distribution hub so the scenery is bad, and it’s no good for turning into a winery or anything like that.”
Mike sighed and said, “And it doesn’t help that almonds are getting a bad rap with those ridiculous water numbers that came out. So out of context.”
The agent nodded and said, “Exactly.”
“So, it’s good for almonds, which are losing ground with small growers, but not pretty enough for rich people to buy it for a hobby farm.”
“That sums it up.”
He nodded and said, “Well, let’s just see what their offer is if they make one. I’m okay if it’s anywhere near your numbers. It’s got to go.”
They stood and shook hands, the agent looking at him with a little sympathy, which just made it that much worse. As he got into his car to drive home, Mike realized he would never see that land again. The sale would be done from here and with his new job and limited funds, there was no way he could get out there to see it once more or say goodbye.
The idea of that made him pull over to the side of the road, feeling dizzy for a moment. He’d never lived anywhere else before the fire except for the dorms during college. He’d even been born there in that house, his mother’s labor so fast she didn’t have time to go to the hospital.
His father had always told him that he was born for the grove and that was his proof. Mike had believed it too. And now he was selling the groves, but they were groves that had no more trees.
Mike took some deep breaths to steady himself, leaning his forehead on the steering wheel while he did and squeezing his eyes shut. More words of his father’s came to him then, When something hard has to be done, it’s best just to do it because it almost never gets easier if you wait.
The words were so clear that he turned to make sure there was no one in the car with him. Of course no one was, but the advice was still as good as it had been when he was young.
He nodded to himself and whispered, “I got this, Pops.”
Thirty-Two
Amy was touring an apartment that felt suspiciously over-priced when Marion’s jaunty ringtone interrupted the agent. Holding up a hand, she stepped into a kitchen so well-equipped she didn’t even know what all the features were for.
“What’s up?” she answered, expecting another chatty call from Marion. She had a habit of calling between clients, and now that Amy wasn’t busy from dawn till midnight, she did it even more.
“Did Mike say anything about the sale of his tree farm when he was last here?”
That was a strange topic to bring up, but Amy answered. “Sort of. He said that there might be a corporate buyer, but he didn’t know anything for sure. That’s pretty much it.”
Since he lived two hours away and was now working, he showed up on Friday directly from work and left her apartment on Sunday nights. She traveled to see him each week too, but she felt a little weird in his apartment with a roommate right on the other side of the wall. Charlie was nice, if a little bit crazy—sort of like Marion—but she definitely didn’t want him to hear her having it off with Mike. Nights at his place tended to be rather chaste ones.
He’d just gone home yesterday after his third weekend at her place, and he’d only mentioned the grove sale in passing, more interested in helping her laugh about the over-the-top apartments and condos her agent had sent her listings for.
Marion hmm’ed on the line, clearly thinking.
“What is it, Marion?”
She made a weird noise and then said, “Don’t be mad at me.”
“Uh oh, what did you do?”
“I sort of checked out the whole tree farm thing and I found it easily enough. There was a lot of local press when the fire happened and his parents’ pictures were everywhere.”
“You spied on him!” Amy was appalled and her voice rose. The agent looked at her and then motioned that he would be waiting outside. She nodded and growled into the phone, “That’s not cool, Marion.”
“I didn’t spy! I wanted to help you with your problem. You know, trying to see if he wanted to sell or not.”
“Oh my god. You did not! That’s not right, Marion. You can’t find out how someone feels by peeking into their records or whatever. You’re a lawyer, but I didn’t hire you for a case.”
Marion broke in, her voice serious. “I know that. I know, but listen. I think you might have been on to something about him maybe trying to keep it before.”
Amy’s heart dropped and she sank to the carpeted floor. “How do you know?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure, but I did some checking—okay, well I had my paralegal do some checking—and she got in touch with the agent handling the sale. She just asked questions like anyone else, but she also got in touch with some of the neighbors. Two sold up after the fire, but one is still there and she got an earful.”
“Okay,” Amy said, worried all the sudden that there might be something she really didn’t want to know.
“He was replanting the tree farm—”
“Groves. They’re groves.”
“Right, groves. Anyway, he was replanting them and he stayed at their house during the times he was there. He told them all about his plans to make it more conservative with water use and all sorts of stuff. The last time he was there was just about four months ago. Then, suddenly, he put it up for sale.”
“That doesn’t sound like he’d been planning the sale at all then.”
“Nope. What do you want me to do?”
“You? Nothing. What could you do, Marion?”
“My paralegal said the agent was about to close on an offer so if she had an interested client, they should make an offer soon.”
“Shit,” Amy said.
Marion paused, then said, “You could make an offer. That would at least give you some stall time. Figure out what to do.”
Amy shook her head, no longer really seeing the empty apartment or worried about the agent standing outside the door. “And that would be crossing the line.”
“And it might be saving him from doing something he’ll really regret.”
Slapping the floor, Amy said, “I’ll call you back. Thank you.” She meant that. As big a wrinkle her information had created, it was still better than not knowing.
After relaying the details of the sale to Amy, they hung up and then Amy stabbed the call button anxiously once more. Sam, her lawyer, was in a meeting so she hung up and looked at the time. Two-thirty. She could make it.
As she got in her car, Amy texted Mike to let him know she was on her way and needed to speak with him urgently after work. He probably wouldn’t see her text until he left his work area, but he would be off work before she got to his apartment. She didn’t want to surprise him any more than her busy-body behavior already would.
Amy argued with herself for the entire drive, changing her mind at least twenty times. Mike wasn’t overly prideful or weird about women, but this was his own private problem and she knew he felt strange about their different financial circumstances. If their positions were reversed, she would feel the same. And if she were in his position, she might be very angry if he interfered like this.
On the other hand, if Marion’s little tidbit of information was correct, she might be secretly overjoyed not to have to give up something she loved. And that was his home. True, her father’s house had been her home and she’d sold that in a heartbeat, but if there had been a lover she cared for who had been willing to help her, what would she have done?
She might be embarrassed and work to pay them back, but she would have accepted. No question. She would be living there now instead of looking at over-designed apartments and condos meant for the Research Triangle workers in Raleigh.
After another dozen changes of mind, she took the exit that led to Mike. Her phone buzzed exactly one minute past five and she looked around for cops before hitting the speaker button.
“Hey,” she said, absolutely frozen and not sure what to say.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, real concern in his voice. She could hear the sound of him walking, others talking around him, the slamming of a metal door.
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. I just have to talk to you and I’d rather do it in person.”
Mike was silent a moment, then he said, “That doesn’t sound fine at all. Are we in trouble?”
She smiled as she turned a corner. She loved the way he’d shifted to using we so easily. They were a we. “No, we’re not. We’re fine. This is something else.”
She could hear the confusion in his voice, but he was apparently willing to wait to hear her because he said, “Okay. I’ll hurry home then. Are you there?”
“I will be in five minutes.”
“Just go on in. Charlie will be home. Don’t let him wheedle you into cooking for him.”
She laughed, because Charlie would probably do exactly that within moments of her arrival. He played that whole bachelor-with-no-cooking-skills card on her without shame. Of course, he was a bachelor without attachments because he wanted to be, so it didn’t really work.
“I’ll defend myself with honor,” she declared, using one of those serious voices like the knights on Charlie’s current favorite video game.
She felt better when they hung up, but no less undecided. It all came down to not knowing what he really wanted to do. And what he really wanted, deep in his heart, was what she wanted for him.
She just needed to actually know what Mike wanted.
Traffic being what it was, it would take Mike at least forty-five minutes to drive home. Charlie answered the door with a grin and a hug. He clearly hadn’t showered after going to the gym and the whole room smelled of it.
She waved her hand in front of her face and said, “Charlie. You should bathe!”
Charlie really was a lot more like Marion than Amy had thought possible. She’d always assumed Marion was unique in her unabashed and entirely open behavior. Not so apparently, because Charlie lifted his arm and sniffed, then grinned and said, “Me Tarzan, you not Jane.”
“Oh god, you’re a dork,” she said and shut the door behind her. It was easy to be this way with Charlie, which was a good thing since Mike apparently loved the guy.
He shrugged and hopped over the back of the couch to pick up his controller. “Okay, me dork, you still not Jane.” Then he seemed to finally notice that Mike hadn’t come in with her and he asked, “What’s up?”
She hugged her purse at her waist and said, “I’m waiting for Mike. He knows I’ll get here first.”
“Cool,” he said, then added, “Does that mean you’re cooking? I’m such a loser in the kitchen and I’m sure pizza isn’t good for me every night.” He made big eyes at her and sucked in his cheeks. It was entirely ineffective. Like Mike, he had a physique that turned heads. It was part of the job.
She rolled her eyes and answered, “No. I am not cooking. That ploy is not going to work tonight.”
He patted the couch next to him and said, “Well, then we might as well starve together. Want to watch some housewives fight with each other?”
Without even waiting for an answer, he clicked the various remotes until the TV came up and he navigated to his recorded shows, which were suspiciously filled with reality TV shows of the most cringe-inducing sort. He loved that stuff.
Amy had never been into that sort of thing, but her evenings at Mike’s house meant she’d now seen quite a few episodes of his particular favorites. A sort of lurid fascination was growing and she was almost ashamed of herself.
Plopping down on the
couch, she asked, “Did she hit her like we thought?”
Charlie grinned and said, “Just watch. I saved it for you.”
When Mike finally walked in the door, Amy was fully entrenched and high-fiving Charlie because the over-blown drama had, in fact, resulted in a serious slap attempt. Lack of actual contact meant Amy won their bet, but it was still entertaining to watch.
“I told you not to get her hooked on that crap,” Mike said, grinning at the pair of them.
Amy jumped up and scooted around the couch to hug him. He looked fantastic. Regular life was good for him. He was still built like a god, but not so preened and plucked. She’d been watching with fascination as a line of hair grew from just below his belly button that traveled downward. He’d told her that he sure didn’t mind forgoing waxing appointments and she’d giggled at the mental picture that developed.
Of course, she’d turned that around and told him she would also forgo certain types of grooming if he wanted to get all untended on her. He’d only grabbed her and asked if she would stop shaving her legs, then grunted like a caveman and carried her off to bed.
They kissed until Charlie made a rude noise and said, “Get a room!”
When they broke the kiss, Mike smoothed her hair back and looked at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Glancing at Charlie, Amy nodded toward Mike’s bedroom. He grinned, but she shook her head and whispered, “Privacy. Not that kind though.”
His face grew serious again and he led her into his bedroom by the hand. He was still wearing his work clothes—khaki pants and a golf shirt with the company logo on it—but he sat on the bed rather than change and said, “Okay, shoot.”
Sitting next to him, she took his hand and said, “Please don’t be mad at me.”
