by D. R. Graham
“Don’t be sorry. You have to do what you have to do to take care of your dad and save your land. I understand. And I admire you for it.”
He hugs me even tighter, and when he eventually speaks his voice is choked. “If there is any way I can come back to school, I will do whatever it takes. But no matter what happens, I want you to always know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
And that does it. The final thread that was holding me together unravels. My tears smash through the floodgates with massive force—convulsing-type weeping. I can’t help it. It’s been such an awful day, and I don’t want this to be the end of us, even though I really do understand that his other priorities are more important right now. And the fact that it kills him too makes it even more tragic. There are a thousand coherent things I’d like to say, but the most I can manage to squeak out is a weak and pathetic, “no.” And then I collapse into a complete breakdown.
Chapter 24
Easton
That was the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do. I haven’t cried since my mom died, but I’ve been on the verge ever since I left Palo Alto.
After I drove Della back to the house, she helped me pack the truck with my things. Despite the fact that she fought hard to keep her composure as we said goodbye, there was no hiding that she was crushed. And her body trembled as I hugged her. The guilt of knowing I’m the cause of that pain feels worse than a bronc stomping on my chest.
I slam my palm against the steering wheel in frustration. Not that it improves my mood. The ranch has been my entire life so far, everything that made me who I am. But Della’s everything I imagined for my future. When she asked if we were breaking up I couldn’t force myself to say yes. I didn’t say no either. It kills me to let her go, but it’s what’s best for her right now. She needs to focus on school, not worry about my problems or jeopardize her scholarship. Neither one of us can afford the time or money it would take to make a long-distance relationship work. And I don’t want her to pass up internships because she feels tied down to me when I’m in Three Rivers. Hopefully I’ll get back on campus next year.
Shit. What was I thinking? Letting her go is a mistake. I need her in my life. What if my dad doesn’t beat the cancer? I’ll literally be left with nothing—no family, no education, no home, no money, no past, no future. Or, maybe it would be easier that way. No attachments to anything.
Cut it out, Havie. Depressing yourself while driving on a dark, desert highway is probably not the best idea in the world. Great, they’re playing Tennessee Whiskey on the radio. Seriously? Stop playing the victim. Shitty things happen sometimes. Dust yourself off and get back on the horse. First, change the damn radio station before you lose it. Second, come up with an action plan. Okay, getting kicked out of Cavendish’s class is not the end of the world. I can still finish off my other credits for this term by working from home and driving to campus for exams. I’ll worry about getting Cavendish’s class done later. Then I’ll eventually get back on track. It’s a delay, not a fatal blow.
Next, come up with the money to pay off the bank and get rid of the vultures circling to pick our bones dry. Cattle prices are below average right now, but if the bank gives me an extension, I can raise enough to cover the amount owed. It won’t leave anything left for ongoing and future expenses at the ranch and Palo Alto house, but I’ll have to worry about crossing that bridge when I get to it.
Finally, figure out how to make things work with Della. Eventually. Or, figure out how you’re going to survive if you have to live without her.
This sucks.
The lights are still on in the ranch house when I pull up at midnight. Dad might still be awake since his cast is making it hard for him to sleep. More likely he fell asleep on the couch. Brewster saunters off the porch to greet me. “Hey, boy.” I pat him under the chin. “Was your day better than mine?”
He looks up and cocks his head as if he’s actually trying to understand, then follows me to the front door. Dad’s awake and sitting in his chair, watching TV.
“How’d things go around here today?”
He turns the TV volume to mute. “The mountain lion got two calves and a heifer.”
I don’t want to take my shoes off, so I sit on the arm of the couch. “Did you apply for a depredation permit?”
He smiles and turns the volume back on. “Don’t need to.”
I assume that means he already killed the lion illegally, but to make sure losing valuable livestock is not another problem I need to worry about, I ask more specifically, “Are we going to lose more of the herd, or not?”
“Not.” He gets up and carries his empty coffee mug into the kitchen. “How’d it go at the hearing?”
“One instructor kicked me out of her class for missing too many lectures. The rest gave me permission to work from home and finish the term.”
“So, does that mean you flunk the course you got kicked out of?”
In his mind, quitting is the worst. Failing is a close second. He raised me not to quit. And I pushed myself not to fail whenever humanly possible. Cavendish knocked me on my ass, but she can’t keep me down forever. “I’ll take it again.”
When he returns to the living room, he hands me a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. “Crystal came by earlier to check in on me and brought some leftovers from the diner.”
“Thanks.” I haven’t eaten anything since the drive-thru breakfast I grabbed on my way to the hearing. Crystal’s chocolate cake is almost as famous as her root beer floats, and her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. But even this can’t make me feel better right now.
“How’s Della doing?” Dad asks as he sits back down.
“She’s been better.”
He nods as if he already figured that, then he flips through the channels. Without looking at me he says, “Everything’s going to work out. We’ve made it through worse times.”
We? Who the hell’s he trying to kid? I’ve made it through worse times. He went off the rails and got stuck in the past. Whatever. I don’t have the energy to get into it with him tonight. I stand, still eating the cake, and leave. Brewster follows me up to the loft and hops up to sleep on the bed. Normally I wouldn’t let him, but he can obviously tell I’m going to let it slide tonight.
Chapter 25
Della
It’s raining. Not like Vancouver rain that hangs around relentlessly for four days. California rain that completely dumps everything it has in the course of an hour and floods the street culverts in biblical proportions.
I failed an exam, which is the first thing I’ve ever failed in my life. And I’m on a roll. A downward roll. I’ve been so out of it since Easton moved out, I also forgot to hand in one of my assignments. I finished it. I just forgot the due date and got a zero. I’ve missed two group meetings, too, because I was at home crying. And to top it off, the scholarship committee chose this week to review my marks. Hopefully they realize it’s just a blip. I’m a mess. Wrapped in a blanket, I curl up on the window seat in my bedroom with a warm cup of tea. I went to my classes today but came straight home, had a hot shower, and changed into pyjamas. Hopefully I won’t feel like hibernating every day for the rest of my life, but right now, it’s all I can manage.
Easton was originally messaging and calling to check in on how I’m doing, but hearing his voice made missing him harder for me. So, I asked him not to contact me, which I vehemently regret now. Especially since no-contact hasn’t helped at all, and I’m still just as devastated.
There’s a soft knock on my bedroom door, then it swings open and Chuck pops his head in. “Hey. How you feeling?”
Not in the mood to talk, I sip my tea and stare out the window.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No thanks. I just want to be alone, please.”
Ignoring my request, he enters my room and sits against the edge of my desk. “What’s my next assignment?”
“Respect the fact that I told you I’d like to b
e left alone.”
He tilts his head side-to-side in a conflicted gesture. “Easton asked me to check in on you. And he can beat me up, so I have to do what he asks me to do. Sorry.”
Although hearing Easton’s name piques my interest and I want to know what else he said when he called, it’s better if I don’t torture myself with hearing about how he still cares even though we can’t be together. “You checked in, I said I want to be alone, if you leave now you’ll satisfy both requirements.”
Chuck wraps one arm across his body and rubs his chin with his other hand as he studies me in a pensive way. It’s obvious that he wants to figure out what might make me feel better. To give him credit, the fact he’s even making an effort to care about someone else’s feelings is progress. Too bad there’s nothing anybody could say to make me feel better right now. Maybe he’ll just get bored and go away. I sip my tea and draw a heart in the fog on the window. Easton’s absence makes the house feel like it was hit by a tornado and it left a huge gaping hole that’s letting the wind and rain in.
Chuck sits patiently, staring at his socks, as I finish my tea. When I eventually glance over at him, surprised that his ADHD hasn’t kicked in and made him either say something or walk out, he smiles in a way that could almost be interpreted as sympathetic. Okay, I have to admit it does feel somewhat reassuring to know that I’m not completely alone in the world right now. He’s going to screw it up, though. Any second now. Something insensitive is going to shoot out of his mouth. Wait for it.
Wow. Shocking. He’s just sitting there quietly. It doesn’t even seem like he’s itching for me to surrender and let him off the hook. He must have prepared himself to wait for as long as it would take. It’s amazing what a person is capable of when they really want to do something. I don’t know why, but the fact that he’s trying so hard to be sweet makes me cry. I place the mug on the windowsill and cover my face with my hands as the tears stream out.
Chuck walks over, sits next to me, and stretches his arm across my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”
“It hurts so much,” I mumble.
“I know. It gets better, though. I promise.”
Right now, I can’t imagine feeling happy ever again. Why did the universe send me the perfect person only to rip him away? Am I supposed to quit school and go be with Easton? Am I supposed to focus on my studies and move on with my life as originally planned? Does every breakup feel like someone reached into your chest to rip out your still beating heart? It is comforting to know that Chuck understands the pain, though. I sniff and blink up at the ceiling to push the tears back. Unfortunately, all I can focus on is how sweet it was for Easton to ask Chuck to check in on me. How am I supposed to turn off my feelings when I love him so much, and he loves me?
After sitting with me for about twenty minutes, Chuck gives me one more squeeze around the shoulders, then stands. “BJ is heading out soon if you want to say goodbye. He’ll understand if you’re not up to it.”
“I want to.” Wiping the tears from my cheeks I step out of the blanket and follow Chuck downstairs.
BJ’s duffel bag is on the floor next to the stack of rubber bins that are filled with his other belongings. His truck is backed into the garage, so Chuck helps him load it up to the top of the canopy. His rodeo gear is the last thing they put in, then he closes the tailgate with a sigh. When he notices my red and watery eyes, his expression transitions into empathy. “Come here, darlin’.” He pulls me in for a hug. “No more crying allowed. Everything’s going to be fine. You hear?”
I nod.
“Seriously. When the world knocks you on your ass, you can’t lose faith. You have to get up. Dust yourself off. Then prove how tough you are to everyone who doubted you.”
“Cowgirl up,” Chuck adds.
I’ve never been knocked on my butt by anything. And if I did ever stumble, my mom and dad were always right there to catch me by the elbow and prevent my fall so I would never get hurt. The boys are right. I need to be tougher. “Okay, but you have to promise to do the same,” I say to BJ.
“That’s the only way I know.” He hands me his key to the house. “Pick someone Chuck won’t want to sleep with for your next roommate.”
“So, a guy,” I say.
They both laugh, and it makes me sadder to realize that their light-hearted banter is what I’m going to miss the most.
“I didn’t plan to move in with three men, but I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. You guys have changed me. In a good way. And I’m thankful for that.”
“You were the best roommate we ever had. Think of me whenever you two-step.” BJ hugs me again.
“I’ll think of you more often than that. I wish you and your family all the best. Call me if you or your sisters ever need anything.”
He bends over to grab his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, then slaps Chuck’s hand. Chuck grabs his arm and pulls him in for a proper hug. Their male bonding moment makes tears well up along my eyelids again. Geez. Who knew that living with three guys would be so emotional? BJ slaps Chuck’s back and climbs into the cab of his truck. I press the garage door opener and it rolls up. The weather is still brutal. BJ probably can’t even see me waving as he pulls out into the storm.
“How long will it take for him to get home?” I ask Chuck after the truck has disappeared down the road.
“Three days if he takes it easy. Two if he pushes through.” He presses the button to close the garage door. I stand, staring at it. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” I turn and follow him into the house. “Your next assignment is to find a roommate you don’t want to sleep with.”
“Two roommates.”
“No. One. I’m going to pay Easton’s share of the rent.”
His eyes narrow as if he’s worried I’m insane, but he’s apparently smart enough not to say anything about my fiscally inadvisable decision. Maybe I underestimated his capacity to read people.
I’m close to caving in to call Easton, just to hear his voice. But I know if I do I’ll just feel worse after. So I head upstairs and video call my mom instead.
“Sweetheart. What a nice surprise.” She raises her eyeglasses and squints into her iPad screen to examine my appearance, which is dishevelled. “Is everything all right?”
I’m not ready to admit out loud that Easton and I had to break up. And I definitely can’t handle explaining why, so I dodge the question by saying, “I’m a little homesick.”
“Aw. Myshka. We miss you, too. Hold on. I’ll get Dad. Viktor! Della is on the computer to say hello.” She turns back to face me. “He got a puppy.”
“Really?”
He shows up behind Mom and leans into the camera proudly holding out a ball of fluff.
“Cute.” If one likes dogs, that is. “What is it?”
“A Pomeranian,” he beams.
“Named Cha Cha,” Mom adds as she pets its head. “She’s not entirely house broken yet. But who can stay mad at a face like that? Your father is so smitten he lets her sleep in the bed.”
“Excuse me,” Dad protests. “Who was already curled up with her on the pillow when I finished brushing my teeth?”
“You didn’t kick her out.” Mom winks at me, then goes on for at least twenty minutes about all the antics of the adorable puppy, who gets away with everything from shoe chewing to carpet pooing because she’s cute. Wow. They weren’t even this excited when Tabitha was born. I’ve been replaced. Why not throw some acid in the wounds?
“Hey, Mom. Would you mind shipping my camera down?”
“Oh.” Her face contorts. “Hmm. That might be tricky. I’m not sure which box it’s in.”
“It’s on the top shelf of my closet. In a black camera bag.”
She waves her hands in excitement. “Ooh. Didn’t I tell you? We packed up all your things and rented a storage unit because we converted your room into a home gym. Rubber flooring. Mirrored wall. Universal weight set. It’s great. Just what I’ve always wanted.
It’s the perfect space to do my yoga every morning. But your father hogs the treadmill, not for himself of course, to train Cha Cha to walk herself.” She rolls her eyes. “Can you believe that?”
No. Really. I can’t believe that. Definitely replaced. All right, I guess I’m officially flying solo. Not the best feeling in the world. They waited until Yulia was married before they converted her room into an office.
“Oh my gosh. Cha Cha just piddled on me.” Mom stands and rushes off to put the dog outside and then heads upstairs to change her clothes.
Dad sits down in front of the screen, then studies my expression more closely. “You feeling okay?” he asks.
I shrug and chew on my fingernail out of habit.
He smiles sympathetically as if he’s already guessed that I called because something is wrong. “You know, Della, sometimes you can be too stubborn.”
“Thanks, Dad. But I’m not sure pointing out my flaws is going to make me feel better.”
“Let me finish. Sometimes you are too stubborn, but sometimes that’s what it takes to succeed. Like your mother.”
“Mom has a law degree that she doesn’t even use and works at a flower shop instead. How is that succeeding?”
“Because the shop is what she loves to do. She chose that. Maybe you don’t know, but your mother is very brave. She always did exactly what she set her mind to. She went against her family’s wishes to go to school in Moscow. Then they threatened to disown her when she decided to marry me. And she nearly left me when she decided to come to Canada.”
“What? You almost got divorced?”
“I didn’t want to emigrate. I was dead set against it—afraid to take the risk, I guess. Not willing to start over from scratch. But your mother is like you. She knew you girls would have better opportunities here. And that I would grow to like it here as well. She was right. And without her stubbornness, I’d probably still be poor a farmer in rural Russia right now.”
“So, are you admitting that moving to California was a good choice for me and that maybe I’m smart enough to be an engineer?”
