by Meg Donohue
“Soon we’re going to look out at this same view, beneath these same stars,” Amir said, “and everything is going to be different.” His dark hair hung over his forehead, hiding the scar that I knew curved over his eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“In two years we’ll be eighteen. Two-thirds of Horseshoe Cliff will be ours. We can build a house on the other end of the property. If Bear lays a hand on either of us, we can have him arrested. Once we’re eighteen, we won’t ever have to worry about being separated or taken away from here.”
I rested my head on Amir’s shoulder, afraid that if he saw my face he would know how conflicted I felt about his vision for our future. I loved Horseshoe Cliff and I never wanted to be apart from Amir, but I ached to be free of Bear and to experience more of the world. If anything, my stay with the Langfords had made these contradictory desires—to stay at Horseshoe Cliff and to get as far away as possible—only grow in intensity. How could I equally long for two different futures? How could I love a place and also wish to leave it?
Amir’s earthy, familiar scent was a comfort, but I was not sure I had ever felt so confused.
“I’m glad you’re home,” he said. I heard in his voice that he was worried by my silence.
“I am, too.” I closed my eyes. Even with them shut I saw the silver thread of the cliffs unspooling against a dark sky.
Amir cupped my chin and turned my face toward his. I opened my eyes. His sable eyes roamed my face. The way he looked at me made me feel as though I were the most important, most cherished person in the world. Warmth moved through my body. He lifted his hand to my hair, touching the thick, soft braid that hung in front of my shoulder. “Did you cut your hair?”
“No. It’s just clean. I took a bath. A really hot bubble bath. And Rosalie told me I could keep these clothes. Even the boots.” Amir didn’t care about fashion, but I knew he would appreciate the practicality of a pair of rubber boots that did not have a single crack.
“They’re nice,” he admitted. “What else did I miss?”
I told him that the woman who owned the house had a collection of Satsuma ware, and I’d held one in my hand. “You should have seen the look on the Langfords’ faces when I told them we’d studied Satsuma with Rei. If I’d sprouted another head, they wouldn’t have looked more surprised.”
Amir smiled. “Rei will be proud.”
“Oh, and I did a puzzle and played Monopoly. And Will gave me a book—Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast.”
“The food, Merrow. Tell me about the food.”
I grinned. “Cheese and bread and lots of honey.” I closed my eyes, remembering. “Salami. Prosciutto, I think? I’m not sure. Orange juice and chocolate croissants—”
Amir groaned.
“I’m sorry! I’ll stop,” I said, laughing, but Amir shook his head and smiled.
“No. Don’t stop. I want to hear about every last crumb.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder again, sighing happily. We were both quiet for a moment, and I knew without looking at him that he was smiling, as I was. “I really am glad to be home,” I said, and this time I meant it.
DAYS WENT BY, and my leg slowly healed. I could not manage to forget the Langfords, but I was sure that they had forgotten me.
And then one day while Amir and I worked in the garden, I heard my name being called. I straightened. The sun was bright and high in the sky, but it was cold, and every so often the wind would rise off the sea and hurtle toward us. Rosalie Langford strode down the garden path in corduroy pants and a pair of gleaming black boots that were similar but not identical to the ones that she had given me. She wore sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat that cast the sharp edges of her face in shadow. Her coat was navy blue and waxy, similar to a raincoat but with a corduroy collar. This was her “farm visit” outfit, I realized. I tried not to love it and failed.
“Hello!” she called as she tromped toward us, pulling off her sunglasses and waving them in the air. “I’m dropping by unannounced, but in my defense, you did it first.” She smiled.
I felt excited—relieved even—to see her, though I tried not to show it in front of Amir. “What are you doing here?”
The wind picked up and she held the brim of her hat to keep it from blowing away. “Will gave me directions. I wanted to check on you. How is your leg?”
“Much better. Thank you.”
I felt acutely how she kept her eyes on me. I was glad that I’d tucked my hair into a baseball cap that morning and she couldn’t see how it had returned to its seaweed state. She could not have helped noting that I still wore her sweater. It had been cold all week and there’d been no reason to take it off.
She barely glanced in Amir’s direction.
“You remember Amir, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.” If she heard the rebuke in my tone, she hid it. “How are you, Amir?”
“Peachy.”
Rosalie smiled but Amir had already turned away. She put her sunglasses back on. “We’re leaving to go back to the city tomorrow,” she told me. “I’ve been wanting to check on you all week, but since you don’t have a phone . . . Anyway, I thought perhaps you might have needed some time to think . . .” She trailed off, looking around, still holding her hat as she gazed out toward the blue curve of the sea. Her eyes widened. “This is quite a piece of property.” She glanced down the rows of our garden. “And quite a bit of work, I imagine.”
I knelt to help Amir drape a long swath of fabric—white once, now gray after many winters of use—over the hoops we’d staked over a row of lettuces. There was the possibility of frost that night and even though the heartier winter vegetables like the broccoli and cauliflower wouldn’t mind the chill, the spinach and mesclun would.
Rosalie watched us. “Will you sell these when they’re ready?”
“About half. The rest, we split with the chickens. Come spring, we’re all sick to death of salad.”
“Even the chickens?”
I laughed. “No, they’ll eat nearly anything.” I straightened and put my hands on my hips. “Do you want a tour?”
“I’d love one.” She added, “If you’re not too busy.”
I shrugged. “There’s always something to do, but most of it can wait.”
Amir had moved farther down the row. He suddenly knelt, plucked what I knew was a snail from the dirt, and sent it flying in a high arc out of the garden, toward the sea. He could always send snails farther than I could, which he insisted was due to his perfect form, and I insisted was due to the fact that his joints appeared to be made of rubber bands.
“Are you coming?” I called.
Without looking back, he shook his head.
“It was nice to see you, Amir,” called Rosalie.
He didn’t turn.
As we walked away, Rosalie admitted that she knew nothing about gardening.
“Everything I know, I learned from Amir,” I told her. “And everything he knows, he learned from my father. There were years when I was too wrapped up in reading to pay attention to learning how to farm, but luckily Amir has been interested in it since the moment he set foot on Horseshoe Cliff eight years ago. He only had a couple of years to learn from my father, but he picked it up almost immediately. From the beginning, he felt connected to the work.”
“He enjoys it.”
I thought about this. “Yes, but it’s more than that. He needs it. He needs to work in the earth every day. And not just any earth—it has to be this earth, here at Horseshoe Cliff. This is his land. He belongs to it, and it belongs to him.”
“And you? Is that how you feel about Horseshoe Cliff, too?”
I studied the ground, feeling my cheeks warm. “Yes. Of course.”
We walked through the orchard and peered into the eucalyptus grove before heading back past the garden. I circumvented the cluster of buildings that were the cottage, the outhouse, and the shed. I wanted to show Horseshoe Cliff at its best angles, and those did not i
nclude the obvious disrepair of our rotting structures. Anyway, Rosalie had already seen them—she’d parked in front of the cottage. She didn’t need a closer view. I walked with her along the path to the chicken coop. Our arrival—or Rosalie’s, really; they did not care for strangers—caused the hens to scramble and trill.
“This is Rosalie,” I cooed. “She won’t hurt you.”
“Not unless you have some barbecue sauce in there,” Rosalie murmured in a soothing voice.
I laughed.
I pointed out the paddock and lean-to that used to hold our horses but now stood empty, sprouting more weeds with each passing year. The bluff was brown but soon the rains would come and turn all the land bright and varied shades of green. We kept walking until we reached the cliff. I walked right to the edge. The ocean was quiet for a moment, as though listening. It was as close as I could be to my mother, standing on that cliff. I inched forward and sent a rush of pebbles skittering over the edge. Behind me, Rosalie sucked in her breath.
“Merrow! Be careful!”
A wave crashed on the sand below. I stepped back. Rosalie held her hand over her heart.
I smiled. “Do you want to walk down to the beach?” It was low tide, and the beach was wide and inviting. I pointed out the path to her.
She followed the line of my finger, her expression shaken. Her hand still covered her heart, but she nodded. When we reached the beach, she opened her arms wide and turned around in a circle. “I can’t believe this is all yours.”
“Mine and Amir’s and Bear’s. But Bear never comes down here. He hates the cliffs. And the beach.”
“Why does he live here if he hates it?”
I’d never asked myself this question. “I don’t know.” Then I thought of the only time I’d seen Bear at the beach—walking out into the water with my father’s ashes—and I thought that maybe I did know why. This place was all we had left of our parents. It was hard to imagine Bear’s feelings, but that did not mean he didn’t have them.
“Can we sit for a moment?” Rosalie asked.
I led her to the area near the back of the beach where Amir and I had long ago arranged some large rocks into seats. Rosalie looked surprisingly comfortable on those rocks, even in her nice clothes. Maybe she really was an avid camper, as Emma had claimed. For a few minutes we sat in silence and took in the view. I hoped to impress Rosalie with a sighting of one of the gray whales that traveled from Alaska to Baja, but it was early in the season for that journey and I knew the chances were slim. The sun sparkled against the water, making it look like an unending expanse of glistening ice. No whales appeared.
“It’s gorgeous here,” Rosalie said, looking out at the sea. I wondered if she was going to tell me what had really spurred her visit. “It’s so . . . untamed. I can see why you and Amir love it.”
She removed her hat and pushed her sunglasses up into her blond hair. When she turned toward me I was surprised to see that her face, suddenly exposed, was etched with concern. Her blue eyes held mine.
“I know you love it here,” she said again. “But, Merrow, you’re sixteen. You’re allowed to have big plans for your life. And I think that you do. I think that sometimes you dream about a future that is very different from your past. That’s why you wanted to look in our windows, wasn’t it? And that’s why when you described Horseshoe Cliff to me—even though the words you used were beautiful—you sounded so sad.
“This is your home,” she continued. “You are a part of this place, and it will always be a part of you. But sometimes home is the place you have to leave in order to discover who you truly are.”
I realized that my hands had begun to tremble only when Rosalie covered them with her own.
“We don’t know each other well, but I meant what I said last weekend. I believe there are moments when your whole life changes, and I felt that sort of change when you stayed with us. I think I’m meant to help you. I think I can help you. I hope you’ll allow me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you should apply to college. Now. Today. What reason is there to wait? I don’t know the exact details of your life here, but I know enough to think that you would be better, maybe even safer, somewhere else.”
“I don’t know if he’ll let me.” My face burned.
Rosalie leveled her eyes on mine. “Bear.”
I nodded. If Bear thought leaving would make me happy, he would do everything in his power to make me stay.
“Then we’ll file emancipation papers. You have your GED. We can use that to establish your maturity.” Rosalie squeezed my hand. “I know how to do this, Merrow. I did it myself. And you don’t need to worry about the financial aspect. Between any number of scholarships and my own contributions, you’ll be okay.”
I understood then that she had spent the week thinking about me, that her words were not empty promises. But I would not leave unless Amir left with me. Why should we wait out the two years before we became adults in a place where Bear would continue to hurt us when we could be together somewhere else? In two years, the land would be ours. We could return to Horseshoe Cliff as adults.
“I can’t leave without Amir.”
“Does he have his GED?”
“No. But I won’t go without him. You have to help him, too.”
Rosalie patted my hand and at the same time, without any hesitation at all, she said the words that would make me love her forever. “We will.”
AFTER ROSALIE DROVE away, promising to return soon, I checked the garden for Amir but could not find him. I figured he was working in the orchard. I wanted him to be in a good mood when I told him the news that Rosalie had agreed to help us leave Horseshoe Cliff, and since both of our moods were tied to our stomachs, I decided to make him a sandwich. The television blared from Bear’s room, and I felt so exhilarated that I almost considered knocking on his door and asking if he wanted me to make him a sandwich, too. Then I realized that my happiness would only make him suspicious. The less Bear knew about my plan, the better.
I’d put two boiled-egg-and-lettuce sandwiches on a plate and was adding the last of our fall carrot harvest when I heard a car in the driveway. I set the plate on the counter and walked outside.
Rei stepped from her car. “Where’ve you been?” I called down to her from the porch. We hadn’t seen her all week.
She blinked up at me and shook her head. It was her favored response when she thought I was being rude. The bracelets that lined her arms shook, tsking against each other. Amir had made her a wooden bangle engraved with stars for Christmas the previous year, and I hadn’t seen her without it since.
“Hello, Merrow. I’ve been on a baking tear. Help me bring some of this inside, please.”
I headed down the steps to help her. Though my limp was almost gone, she stopped and narrowed her eyes at me. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s get this food inside first.”
We set down the tinfoil-wrapped bread loaves and tubs of muffins on the dining table.
“Where’s Amir?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe the orchard? I was just going to bring him a sandwich.”
“Why bother? He’ll be here any second. That boy can smell fresh-baked bread from two miles away.”
She poured us each a mug of tea from the thermos she’d brought, and I pulled a blueberry muffin from one of the tubs. We sat on the back porch. I told her that a dog had bitten my leg and that the dog’s owners had turned out to be visiting the area from San Francisco. Thankfully, Rei seemed more concerned about the dog bite than why I’d been bitten. I told her that Doctor Clark had given me antibiotics and that I was feeling better.
“Doctor Clark saw you? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“You saw him this week?”
“He came to my house.” She caught my worried look and waved me away. “It was nothing serious.” She looked over her shoulder toward the house. “Bear should have driven over to let me know you’d been
injured.”
I bit into the blueberry muffin. It was no surprise to me that Bear hadn’t let Rei know what had happened. He only left Horseshoe Cliff to drive to the co-op, and when he returned, he inevitably brought with him only half the things on the list I gave him and a truck cab full of the cheapest beer that the co-op stocked.
“It doesn’t matter,” I told Rei. “I’m fine now. And,” I said, leaning toward her, “the most amazing thing happened! Rosalie Langford—that’s the woman whose dog bit me—wants to help me go to college.” I was glad that Bear’s television was so loud that there was no way he would hear me—I was too excited to speak softly.
When Rei set her mug of tea in her lap, her thin fingers shook slightly. “What do you mean?”
“She wants to help pay for everything. She’ll even help me file for emancipation if I need to. She did it herself when she was my age.”
“Well!” Rei leaned so far back in her chair that she seemed to grow smaller by the moment. Then she released a wide smile. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
I wasn’t sure I had ever seen her look so tiny. I certainly hadn’t seen her look so happy since my father was alive. She used to smile like that when she saw him, as though just the sight of him amazed her, making her little corner of the world brighter. It occurred to me suddenly what a burden we had been on her over the many years that she had worried about us, supporting us. We were Jacob’s children, and she would never have let any of us down, but I thought I saw now the price she had paid for taking us on. Released for a moment from the stoic burden of worrying about my future, she looked frail.
“You’re leaving,” she said, her eyes shining.
“But I’ll write to you all the time. I’ll write you letters from all over the world . . .”
“The world!” Rei’s face crinkled with delight.
“Why not? I want to see everything! Maybe I’ll be able to study abroad.” I was excited, and carried away, but for the first time my most extravagant fantasies felt possible. You’re allowed to have big plans, Rosalie had said. I wanted to hold on to the moment, and Rei’s shared excitement, for as long as I could. “I’ll send you something from Japan!”
