In Other Words, Love

by Shirley Jump

  Trent sighed. Just when they seemed to have found common ground, the two of them circled back to the same argument. “Dad, why are we having this argument again?”

  “Because…” His father held up a plant that had overgrown its pot. Roots twined their way out of the base, then knotted into a circle under the pot. “Just because you can’t see the roots of who you are doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

  Kate watched Trent and his father work together, rearranging some outdoor furniture into a home-like setting on one side of the nursery. They seemed to be getting along, even talking. Until they didn’t. Robert went off one way, Trent another.

  “Those two men,” Anne said with a sigh. “I hope they work things out someday.”

  “I think it’s just that they’re too similar,” Kate said. “That can make it hard to see each other’s viewpoint.”

  “Well, if you talk to my son,” Anne said softly, “tell him that his father might be as gruff as a grizzly bear, but he loves and misses his son something fierce.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  His mother gave Kate a quick hug. “After all the hours we spent together, you’re practically family.”

  The words warmed Kate’s heart and set off a longing deep in her chest for this whole thing with Trent and his family to last longer than a couple of days. What would it be like to truly be a part of his family? To come up here on the weekends and spend time together with everyone?

  Silly fantasy thoughts. None of that was going to happen. Wishing and hoping for things that would never be didn’t make them real.

  Trent strolled over and handed her an icy glass of water. “What do you say we play a little hooky?”

  “Oh, thank you for the water.” She took a long drink. Her legs and arms ached from being so active all day, but it also felt good to not be behind the computer. She’d spent most of her time with Trent’s mother and sister, hearing everything from the story of his first steps to the day he’d skipped school in first grade to go see a neighbor’s puppies. “What do you mean by playing hooky? Because if it involves lifting dirt or plants, no way. I’m pooped from today.”

  He laughed. “Just an easy hike. There’s a short trail at the end of my street. I’d like to show it to you and I’ll tell you all about my first hike on it while we climb.”

  “Sure. That sounds fun.” She put a hand to her forehead. “Wait, maybe I should check myself for a fever.”

  “Why?”

  “I think I’ve caught some kind of outdoors bug.” When he rolled his eyes, she grinned. “Yet another bad joke.”

  “You do seem to have an awful lot of those.” But he laughed as he said it, and the mood between them lightened. Trent called out to his mother that they’d be back in an hour, then Kate and Trent set out down the street.

  His neighborhood backed up to part of the Cascade Mountains, a breathtaking view, even from street level. Snow-capped mountains rose in little white triangles above them, one after the other, as far as the eye could see. A small dirt path wound behind the houses and into the ridges. Thick groups of trees marched up the slope, their roots poking above the worn earth.

  “Lots of loose gravel here, so watch your step.” Trent took her hand, guiding her past the first slippery slope. His touch was warm, comforting, and made her feel, even in this small space, safe and secure. As soon as they were on solid ground, Trent released her hand.

  Kate told herself not to care. This was an excursion for research, not to be alone. Except why did Trent keep getting close and moving far away? “So, uh, did you hike this trail a lot when you were young?”

  “It’s the first hike I ever did. My friends and I would come here to play, but we never ventured very far. Then, when I was nine, I got it in my head that I wanted to see how high I could climb. I set out on Saturday morning and got all the way to that ridge.” He pointed to an outcropping so high above them, she could barely see it against the dark mountain side.

  This was the Trent she had been looking for in all these interviews she’d done with him. The headstrong, brave, strong man who had reached the top when no one else thought he could. “Wow. That’s really high. Weren’t you scared?”

  “I was too dumb to be scared.” He grinned. “I set out with almost nothing. A water bottle and some cookies my mom made. I told her I was going to the bottom of the ridge to play with my friends like I always did, but instead, I kept going. I didn’t even have a jacket. It was cold as heck up there, and that’s when I started to get scared.”

  “Sounds like my kind of hiking prep.” Kate grinned. “So, what happened?”

  “My dad found me. I had asked him about hiking that trail one time, and he said he used to climb all the way to the top when he was younger and not so busy with the nursery. He warned me not to go alone, that someday he’d take me, but he never found the time. I guess when I took off that sunny Saturday, he figured out I was going to do the same—I never was a kid who liked to listen to rules—and he set out to find me.”

  She could see that in Trent’s father, and in Trent himself. The stubbornness, the courage, the deep love neither of them showed on the outside. “That’s wonderful. It shows you both think a lot alike.”

  Trent scoffed. “I don’t know about that. We have the same interests in sports and the outdoors, and when I was young, we did stuff together whenever he wasn’t working. After that day on the mountain, my dad insisted I join the Boy Scouts, so I’d learn to always be prepared. He went on some of the camping trips with me, and it was one of the few times we got along. Maybe it was because we were both outdoors, doing something we loved. In the nursery, we butted heads all the time, but when we were putting up a tent or building a fire, we got along like best friends.”

  “Deep down, your dad sounds a lot like you.” When the two of them had been standing together earlier, they were almost mirror reflections with the same stance, sandy-brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

  Trent scoffed. “He’d say the opposite.”

  “You’re wrong, Trent. Maybe he doesn’t say it to you, but he does to other people,” she said. “When I talked to your dad, everything he said was so full of pride. He told me he couldn’t believe how much further you went than he did. That you had bigger dreams and you didn’t let anything stop you. Sort of like on that hike.”

  Trent stepped up onto a high rocky ledge. A couple of pebbles skittered past them. He turned, put out his hand and hoisted Kate onto the same ledge. “He has never said that to me. All he talks about is how I disappointed him.”

  “Because you didn’t come back to work in the nursery?” She glanced back, decided that was a bad decision because everything looked so far away and the world below so small. If she concentrated on Trent, and only Trent, the hike was almost…fun.

  “I guess it was always assumed,” Trent said. He moved through some brush and between two towering trees. “I’d go to college, and then take over for him when he retired. I had told him a hundred times that I didn’t want to be chained down to one location, one small business for the rest of my life.”

  “And yet, aren’t you sort of that way now? You love your company, like your dad loves his, and because of that, you’ve devoted your life to it.” He held out a reusable water bottle, and she took a long drink before continuing. “I don’t think your dad feels chained down, any more than you do. He loves his work, and when you love your work, it’s not a burden.”

  Trent thought about that for a moment. “I’ve never looked at it like that. To me, the nursery was suffocating. Like living in a tiny house with eleven other people. This town, my life, all of it felt that way. It’s why I come to places like this.” He spread his hand, indicating the beautiful vista ahead of them. A small lake punctuated the lush valley below them, its dark waters still and deep. Tall pine trees dotted the landscape, a stark, rich green against the rocky face of the mountain. �
�Out here, there are no constraints. No deadlines. No phone calls or appointments or demands for my time.”

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here, though, and argue that maybe, just maybe, that’s what your dad feels when he’s puttering around in the greenhouse?” She bent down and cupped the leaves of a seedling a few inches high, struggling to reach its own patch of sunlight among the towering trees and expanding ferns. She thought of the tomato plant Grandma Wanda had given her, the plant that tried so hard despite impossible odds. “A seed is like its own little world. Like Horton Hears a Who, you know?”

  He chuckled. “So gardening is like Dr. Seuss?”

  “What I mean is that when you plant a seed, it’s almost so tiny you can’t see it. But it’s in there, and it’s determined to become something more. In a greenhouse, that seed is almost entirely dependent on you to feed it, water it, make sure the sunlight hits it at just the right time and angle. A million things can go wrong, but a million things can also go right.” Now she was sounding like her grandmother, but that was okay. Grandma Wanda was full of wonderful wisdom. “You love and live in a broad world, Trent, full of mountains and lakes. Your father’s world is smaller, but just as big and just as important to him. You reach the top of a mountain and feel a huge sense of accomplishment. He takes a seed and turns it from something like this—” she pointed to the seedling, then rose and pressed a hand to the bark of the maple tree beside them, “—to this, and it’s just as big of a deal to him.”

  Sort of like when an author wrote a book under someone else’s name. Kate had put the same loving care and attention into her ghostwritten books as Loretta and Penny put into their own books. Just because her name wasn’t on the cover didn’t make the work mean less. It was simply a different route for the seeds of her words to climb out of nothing.

  “I never thought of it that way,” Trent said.

  She shrugged. “Maybe it’s time you saw things from his perspective. Your book is about being true to your nature, and just like this seedling, your father is part of that nature, part of your nature. That’s why I need the backstory, the fertilizer and water and sunlight, that brought you from there to here.” Kate chuckled. “Okay, that was totally corny and overdone, but you get the point.”

  “I do.” A smile curved across his face and he shook his head. “You are brilliant, KitKat.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that.” She looked away, suddenly shy and unsure.

  “I do.” He shifted closer to her, so close the heat from his body mingled with hers. He reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing a lazy curve across her skin. Every nerve ending inside her roared to attention. Her heart thudded in her chest, so hard and loud, she was sure people could hear it for miles.

  “You are brilliant,” he said again, softer this time, “and breathtaking and captivating.” He shifted closer, so close his lips nearly brushed hers, and Kate’s breath caught just as Trent leaned in and—

  “Hey! Are you Trent MacMillan?”

  Trent jumped back and released Kate, the moment over before it even began. Disappointment rushed through her, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see the reflection in her eyes.

  “Oh, hey,” he said to the couple behind them. “Yes, I’m Trent.”

  “I thought so.” The guy stepped forward, his eyes wide. He had a rainbow beanie over his dreadlocks and a GOA branded backpack slung over one shoulder. “Dude, I have, like, all GOA stuff. It’s the coolest.”

  “That’s great. Thanks.”

  “Yeah, like, we hike a lot. Not, like, crazy hikes like you do, man, but we get outdoors in our apparel.” The kid grinned. “Get it?”

  Trent smiled back. “Yup. Clever.”

  “Like, I totally dreamed about running into you on a hike someday,” the kid with the dreads went on. His partner just stared at Trent, like he was a movie star on the street. “And here you are. Isn’t that wild?”

  “Totally,” Trent said. He exchanged a little more small talk and took a selfie with the hikers. Kate shifted away, embarrassed she’d thought he was going to kiss her, but given how quickly Trent had moved away, she had to have had the wrong impression. Her hopes had rushed ahead of her reality.

  “We, uh, have to get going,” Trent said after picture number ten with the couple.

  “Nice to meet you. And if you email me, I’ll send you a coupon for the online store.”

  “Whoa! Cool, dude! That’s, like, so awesome. I’m going to tell everyone what a cool guy you are.” The kid shook Trent’s hand, then waved goodbye. As he and his girlfriend walked away, the guy was already whipping out his phone to post the picture on his social media.

  “We should get going,” Trent said. “We need to drive back today, and it’s getting late.”

  “Yeah,” Kate said as they started to walk away. She glanced back at the space where Trent had almost—almost—kissed her, and told herself she was glad, not heartbroken. “Totally.”

  Twelve

  The two-hour drive back to Seattle was nearly silent, except for the clacking of keys and the occasional question. As soon as Kate and Trent got back to the nursery to get in the car, she’d pulled out her laptop and gone to work on the book, telling him she wanted to work on it while everything was fresh in her memory.

  Which gave Trent altogether too much time to think.

  He’d almost kissed her on the mountain, a moment when he’d stopped thinking about what was smart. His brain had ignored the complications of getting involved with someone who was technically working for him. She was his biographer, essentially, and mixing a relationship with the book could only spell disaster.

  At least that’s what he’d told himself when they’d hiked back down the mountain. It was easier to believe that than deal with the attraction he still felt for her. Even now, looking over at her and watching her type away, working hard on the story of his life, he realized how amazing she was.

  “I had a question about college,” Kate said, oblivious to his meandering, sentimental thoughts. “I know you struggled in high school and the first two years of college—”

  “Because all I wanted to do was be outdoors, not stuck in a room with thirty other people studying Great Expectations.”

  “Well, I hated that book too. I think everyone does. But I love the rest of Dickens’ works, and I’m sure there’s at least one other one you would have liked.” She grinned. “But when you graduated from college, you graduated with honors. What made the difference that last year or so?”

  He rested his wrist on the top of the steering wheel. The Corvette glided along the highway, hugging the curves like a close friend. “You want the truth?”

  “Well, the book is called Be True to Your Nature, so…yeah.”

  They passed the diner where they’d stopped for lunch. It was closed now, clearly just a breakfast and lunch place, the parking lot empty, and a single light burning over the door. The thought made him sad, because he would have liked to stop there again with Kate, if only to have that memory a second time. “It was you, Kate.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “You worked so hard, and you were so dedicated to studying. It rubbed off on me.” He shrugged as if it hadn’t been a big deal. In reality, her work habits had encouraged him to do the same. Once he’d applied himself, Trent had realized how hard work paid off, which had translated into better grades and, eventually, better work habits.

  Her eyes were wide with surprise. “I…I had no idea I was an influence on you.”

  He chuckled. “You were more than that. You were that little dose of honesty I clearly needed. Do you remember that test we had on To Kill a Mockingbird?”

  “I remember it was an excuse for a date.” The shock yielded to laughter and teasing, the side of Kate he liked best. “I think you asked me out to dinner because you wanted my notes.”

  “I wanted much
more than that.” He’d wanted to know the girl who had loved that book, who had argued with the professor with a confident vehemence he’d never heard in anyone before. “You were so smart in that class, Kate. In all your classes.”

  She dipped her head. Her cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”

  “We were studying, and you could tell I hadn’t really read the book.” That fact had been obvious in the first few minutes, when she’d mentioned a passage. He’d stared at her with a blank look and realized skimming the summary of the book wasn’t going to be enough to pass.

  “I said reading the CliffsNotes doesn’t actually count.”

  He laughed. “And you were right. I wasn’t much of a reader in school—too much fun to be had outside to be stuck indoors reading a book—but you refused to help me study until I read the book. ‘It will change your mind about novels,’ you said.”

  “I did say that. But I’m biased. It’s one of my favorite books ever.”

  “So I went home and read it that weekend, cover to cover.” He’d stayed up late into the night to finish, as hooked on the story as he’d been on Kate in those days. He’d skipped a canoeing trip just to get through the last few chapters. “I didn’t do it because you told me to. I did it to impress you.”

  She closed the lid of the laptop and rested her arms on top. “Why did you want to impress me?”

  “Because you were—and still are—beautiful and smart and way out of my league.”

  “Says the man whose multimillion-dollar company is going public in a couple of months.” Kate shook her head. “And whose book is going to be published worldwide. I’m just a ghostwriter who lives in a tiny apartment with a cat.”

  “Money doesn’t make anyone impressive,” Trent said. “It just seems like it does.”