“Mmm,” I said.
He took my grunt as a yes. “Good. Me too. My mom is a real stickler for nice bedding. I thought you’d appreciate it. Why don’t you meet me down in the kitchen for some breakfast with my family whenever you’re ready. We’re having waffles and orange juice, and Dwight usually makes hash browns with peppers and onions, so whenever he gets up you’ll get to try those. You can’t logroll on an empty stomach.”
“No,” I agreed.
“My mom put out some towels and things in your bathroom. Do you have everything you need?”
“Uh huh.” I nodded.
“Okay. Have a nice shower.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
He and Luca left the room and I dragged myself out of bed. I felt achy and fuzzy. At first I couldn’t understand why, but then I remembered that we had all spent hours playing strategic, apocalypse-themed board games and drinking wine the night before. I must have had six or seven glasses counting the wine I’d had with dinner, and now I felt positively awful.
I’d been ready for bed by midnight, but they were all too competitive to call it quits. I was beginning to get a clear picture of what life with Bellamy and his family would be like: I’ve been around overachievers before; there’s never a lot of downtime. The good news, if you could call it that, was that Bellamy seemed more laidback and independent than the rest of his family. I took it as a good sign that he lived nearly a thousand miles away from them. I just hoped he wasn’t like other rich boys I’d dated: thrice daily potsmokers pursuing Ernest Hemingwayish experiences like trespassing at an abandoned Russian cabin and living off canned fish for a few months, before taking over their family’s business and running it into the ground.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My face somehow appeared simultaneously puffy and sunken. I wasn’t sure that I was really up for logrolling. It sounded dangerous.
I turned on the shower, noticing fancy little bottles of high-end toiletries artfully arranged in a basket by the window. I uncapped one and inhaled. It seemed to ease my hangover a little, so I tried another. This one was even better. I felt a tiny bit cheered up. Kate seemed like she would be the kind of mother-in-law who gave pretty good Christmas gifts. I would have to find a moment to pull Sherifaye aside and get an outsider’s perspective on their family.
I stepped into the shower and was just lathering up my hair when something caught my eye. It was a shower squeegee with a radio in the handle, suction-cupped to one of the granite shower walls. Squeaky-Tunes said the peeling sticker on the top of it. In such a spa-like bathroom it really didn’t fit in; honestly, it was kind of gross. But that was not why I couldn’t stop staring at it. A flood of emotions overtook me. Pete had the same shower squeegee suctioned to his shower wall. I had noticed it many times when I used his bathroom, and I had always found it curious that he’d have such a thing. Perhaps it was something he’d promoted on an infomercial. Or maybe it had been a gift from some random weirdo or ex-girlfriend. I’d never given it much thought, but now it seemed like a symbol of home and truth and everything that was real and holy.
I took the squeegee off its suction cup hook and made a couple of half-hearted swipes at the shower wall. It occurred to me that I had never taken a shower at Pete’s. Why would I have when we’d always just been friends and I had my own shower right next door? I looked around me. Why was I in this fancy bathroom? Who were these people? Did they really think I belonged here? I felt broken-hearted and pointless. I hung the squeegee back on the hook and coated my hair in conditioner. I tried to focus on the scent of the conditioner, being present only in this exact moment. No past. No Pete. No future. No plans or worries. No logrolling or fams. Just rosemary mint tea tree oil happiness. For good measure, I doused myself in some more potions and lotions. This is nice, I told myself as I drew in deep breaths of minty lavender steam. This is the kind of thing you really love.
I wondered if he even missed me anymore. He was probably in some kind of relationship with the pillow fight girl. Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be?
Not that it mattered. Why was I even thinking about him still?
It was time to move on.
“And that’s what you’re doing,” I told myself. “In a big way. Now remember: A smile is a springboard to happiness.” I tried smiling to see if it worked. When it didn’t I added some more conditioner to the ends of my hair. I considered shaving my legs, but since I’d be dressed like a lumberjack all day, I figured there was no reason to. I finished up with my shower, half-heartedly did my hair and makeup, and got dressed.
When I got down to the kitchen, Bellamy’s whole family was there bustling about. I was glad they’d started without me. It made me feel more like a part of the family and set me at ease a little.
“Good morning,” they all said in near unison. Everyone had on lumberjack attire, down to their rugged hiking boots. They looked like a family from a breakfast sausage commercial.
“Good morning,” I said back. It was still hard to believe I could be a part of something like this. I told myself that if I could stop being so judgmental, stop thinking about how cheesy it all was, I could be pretty happy joining a family like this. Growing up in my own family, we had eaten mainly cans of soup or microwave dinners. We certainly did not take the time or effort to create a big mess like this at eight in the morning, just to gobble it up and be left with dirty bowls and pans. I don’t even think our stove worked. We’d all done a lot of sneaking off to bedrooms or the TV room to be away from one another, to eat our bland little snacks or meals in a state of lonely, unceremonious distraction. And though we occasionally ate dinner together, we had never gotten up early enough for a real, hot breakfast. None of us. Ever. So this was my big chance at being part of a close-knit family.
“I saved you a place,” said Bellamy.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a seat beside him. Seeing him again made me feel better. It was hard to be in a bad mood around him. He was so smiley and sweet.
“Bellamy told us you like coffee,” said Dericka. She set a mug in front of me. “Do you want cream or sugar?”
“I’m good, thanks,” I said. I took a sip. It was delicious. Maybe today would be okay after all. I looked around me, taking it all in. There was so much to think about. When you pick a husband, you really are picking a whole family. A whole lifestyle. Traditions, habits, attitudes. Could these people sense that I was normally more of a TV watcher than a logroller? Or had they misunderstood and thought I was some kind of athletic daredevil? Perhaps they truly thought I’d like this. In that case, I was flattered. If they saw it in me, maybe it was real. Could they turn me into someone better?
“So, here’s our plan,” Bellamy began. “As soon as we finish here, we’re going to head up to Woods View Point and practice our axe throwing. Have you ever thrown an axe before?”
“Hmm,” I said, spreading some raspberry jam on my raisin toast. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s just something we do. Dwight was the Colorado All-Around Men’s Lumberjack Champion in 2005.”
“Good for you,” I said to Dwight.
“Aww, it’s nothing,” he said. “More hash browns?”
“Sure, I’d love some more,” I said, deciding I had better fuel up for the day ahead of me.
“And,” Bellamy continued, “Dericka was Little Miss Chop-N-Saw when she was a kid. What year was that?” asked Bellamy.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Maybe when I was in third of fourth grade. I only got the title since we were cutting down saplings. Anyone can chop down a sapling.”
I nodded as I sipped my coffee, wondering whether I could chop down a sapling.
“After we warm up with the axe throwing,” said Bellamy, “we’ll head up to the lake. There’s a log sawing competition going on up there today, too. That’s more of Sherifaye’s forte.”
“Well, maybe not this time,” she said, patting her stomach.
“She’d never even tried it before she and Dwight got together, and then one day we
brought her along and she jumped right in and took away a second place ribbon.”
“It’s all the yoga I do. My back is really strong,” she said.
“You’re probably right,” said Bellamy. “Do you do yoga, Emma?’
“Sure,” I said. “I recently took a yoga class, as a matter of fact.”
“Cool. And then it will finally be time for logrolling. They’re having a pretty big competition today, so you’ll get to see us do our thing, and you’ll get to give a try, too. It’s going to be a great day. Not as great as Hayward, but still pretty great.”
“Hayward?” I asked.
“Haven’t you heard of the Lumberjack World Championships in Hayward, Wisconsin?” asked Bellamy. For the first time ever, he looked like he was doubting his choice to be with me.
“Oh, that Hayward. Of course I’ve heard of that! Sure. I practically live in Wisconsin. Chicago is practically in Wisconsin. Not close enough to walk to, but you could definitely ride your bike there.” I stuffed the rest of my piece of toast in my mouth and took my time chewing it.
“Good. I figured everyone had heard of it. Hayward is where my mom is from. Maybe you two know some people in common.”
Kate nodded. “You never know,” she said.
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“Anyway,” Bellamy continued, “I think we’re all going to qualify again this year for Nationals. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself and qualify too.”
“For logrolling?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“I thought I was just going to give it a little try.”
“You might as well try to qualify for Nationals,” said Bellamy.
“Of course you’ll try to qualify,” said Kate. “Why wouldn’t you when you’re right there?”
I shrugged. “Okay.” And maybe I could speak Mandarin if I just tried.
“Would you like some more juice?” Dericka asked me, holding up a glass pitcher. I noticed for the first time a pile of squelched out orange halves stacked beside the sink like so many toppling cereal bowls.
“No thank you,” I said. “I would, it was delicious, but I’m stuffed,” I added, when she looked disappointed.
“In that case, shall we get on our way to Woods View Point?” asked Bellamy.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” I said. I hoped it was far, far away so I would have some time to relax before dislocating my shoulder or decapitating someone. Perhaps if it was very far, I could even squeeze in a nap on the way.
“Awesome,” said Bellamy. He leaned close and gave me a quick kiss. “You’re going to be amazing.”
I nodded. “Let’s hope so.”
Chapter 31
“I want you to know,” said Catalina Cartwright, “this has never happened. Never. Throughout the entire history of these shows.”
“You calling a contestant on the phone?” I asked.
“No! I mean you staying for two nights. It’s never happened before. I wanted you to know that.”
“Oh. Thanks for telling me.”
“Bellamy seems really excited about you.”
I twisted the phone cord. I was in Bellamy’s parents’ library, standing on a strategically threadbare Turkish rug. The floors were hand-rubbed barn boards. It was a step up from the toile and slipcovered sofas in the rest of their home. This room, despite looking the oldest, was the newest. This entire wing of their home had only been added a year earlier. I could tell it had been professionally decorated. It bore none of Bellamy’s mother’s faux French touches. Secretly, it was everything the non-city version of me had ever wanted.
Somewhere down the hall, never far away, was a cameraman. But for now, I was alone. In my hand was the receiver of a heavy, black manual-dial telephone. It seemed to weigh ten pounds. I’d never been on a phone that rooted me in one spot and it felt the way I imagined a dog on a leash would feel. The phone was meant to look charming, or to give the room an air of authenticity. I couldn’t imagine a time when people really used such a thing. It was worse than the dial-up internet of my childhood.
“I’m excited about him too,” I said.
“Are you?” asked Catalina. I wondered why she was talking to me instead of having one of the producers do it. Despite how it looked to the people at home, she wasn’t a very big part of the show.
“Of course,” I said.
“Great!” She was being much nicer than usual. “So don’t be afraid to tell him.”
“I think I tell him all the time how I feel,” I said.
“But you aren’t actually saying the words he wants to hear. I’m not trying to steer you in any direction, but I want to be sure he knows how you feel. So if you love him, why hold back?”
“I’m not,” I said.
“Hmm.”
“Really, I’m not meaning to.”
“Okay. Okay, Emma. Well, you are very lucky to have another evening with Bellamy, but this is the last time you’ll have to spend with him before he chooses to meet just three contestants’ families. If you’d like to be among his final three, please be sure to express your feelings so he has all your cards on the table. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
“Super talking with you,” she said.
“You too,” I said.
“Okay then. Buh-bye.”
“Bye.” I set the phone in its cradle and picked up the brandy old-fashioned I’d been drinking. It had been a long, exhausting, crazy day. Somehow in the midst of throwing axes and qualifying for the women’s Lumberjill rookie division at Nationals, I’d received an emerald necklace and an invitation to stay another night. It was turning out to be the night that never ended. Bellamy’s family and several of their neighbors were gathered around a campfire outside and spilling over into the kitchen. They were drinking and sharing stories about our day in enthusiastic play-by-play detail. I ate the cherry off my swizzle stick and checked out a wall of photos, stalling.
Just as I was getting to the really good pictures (Bellamy going to prom with a tall, cow-looking girl), I felt someone come up behind me. “Hey,” I said, turning around. I was expecting it to be Bellamy.
“Hi,” said Sherifaye. “How are you doing?”
“Good. Great. How are you?”
“I’m pretty good. Still feeling a little sick.” She held her stomach. “I guess you heard I’m pregnant?”
“Yes, I heard that. Congratulations.”
“There’s really no point in congratulating me. Congratulating me would be unlucky.” She took a long drink from the bottle of water she was holding. I didn’t know what to say so I just nodded. “Can you believe how much he’s changed?” she asked, poking her finger on the glass over Bellamy’s prom picture. “What a nerd! Cute, but a nerd. Now he’s Mr. Bigshot, but back then he was just a regular guy.”
“He still seems very down to earth,” I said.
“Oh, he is. But he has changed a lot. For the better. You know. I guess everyone gets better as they get older.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” I said.
“He certainly did, anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh. Better and better and better.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s pretty great.”
“He is pretty great,” she said. “The best. I hope you know how blessed you are.”
I nodded some more, trying to recall if I knew any other women who were this defensive of their husband’s brothers. I took another quick glance at the prom picture to make sure we weren’t talking about Dwight. That would be embarrassing if she thought I was checking out her husband. No, we were definitely talking about Bellamy. The whole while she was looking me up and down, squinting her eyes like she was analyzing me. I smiled, trying to hide my discomfort.
“You know,” she said, “you completely rocked the challenges today. I’ve never seen anything like it. How’d you manage that?”
“I think I just got lucky.”
“Lucky? I’ve had to do those challenges. They’re not
easy. Have you done a lot of logrolling? You have, right?”
“Not at all,” I said.
“You probably did your research and got really prepared, right? I mean, before you came on the show. Tell me the truth.”
“No. I barely had any time to prepare for any of this. It was a big whirlwind. Seriously.”
“Well, okay. I’m just saying, you’re the best accidental Lumberjill I’ve ever seen. Really. You’re amazing.” She was smiling, but her eyes were doing their own thing. It was almost like she was glaring at me. “You’ll get to spend a ton of time doing things like that once you’re a part of this family. You’ll be hiking, biking, logrolling, all of that and more. I can tell it’s going to be no trouble for you, though. You’ll be outdoors constantly. And camping. Sometimes they don’t even use tents. Do you like camping?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Good. They love to camp.”
“Cool,” I said. I couldn’t help but wonder how much time we were all going to be spending together. “Is Bellamy here in Colorado much?” I asked. “Or is he usually in Arizona?”
“Well, he’s there most of the time, of course, but he comes home a lot too. I’d say he’s here five or six times a year. Seven? Eight? Maybe more.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Come to think of it, it’s more than that. Maybe twice a month. You wouldn’t have a problem with that, would you?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Good. His last girlfriend, Farrah, didn’t like him to have any space. She especially was jealous of me. Like, she never wanted him to be near me. Isn’t that the craziest thing? She was such a bitch. Cute, I guess, but a bitch. She was in Playboy once. Are you threatened by that? Just kidding. You totally shouldn’t be. But yeah, Playboy. Tacky, right? At least it was before they got together. But still. It really didn’t go over well once Kate and Larry found out. It’s an embarrassment to have a son involved with someone like that, you know? You haven’t done anything like that, have you?”
“No,” I said.
“Good. It always comes out. You think you can bury your past but you can’t.”
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