“It looks like you and I finally agree on something, Jesse,” Jolene replied, before punching the gas. Old Bessie bounced through the field so furiously, I was certain the fender was going to pop off again, but it never did. Or at least not that I saw.
When I made my way back to Garth, he’d already dove into dinner. “So? How did it go?” He wasn’t even trying to keep his smile contained.
I dropped down beside him. “Shut up.”
BY THE TIME Garth and I’d been relieved and we’d made it back to Willow Springs, it was past ten. Rowen and I usually talked around nine her time since that was her break time if she was working and it was a little before I went to bed. Hey, don’t judge; when a person gets up at four in the morning, they can’t stay up until two . . . at least not every night.
I couldn’t remember if Rowen was working that night, though. That worried me. I always remembered what shifts she worked. Not because I needed to know where she was every minute of every day, but because I liked to know what she was doing hundreds of miles away. When I was out checking the fence, or hauling feed, or lately, up to my elbows in cow placenta, I liked to imagine for a few minutes what she was doing. Was she in class? Painting a picture, half of her face scrunched up as she decided what it was missing? Out with her friends, taking advantage of all Seattle had to offer? Or was she selling crazy doughnuts, turning down the music every time she passed the stereo system?
Usually I had to guess what she might be up to, and that was all part of the fun, but on the nights she was working, I could almost imagine exactly what she was doing. I’d watched her from the back table for so many hours, I think I knew her job almost as well as she did. But I didn’t know if she was working. I couldn’t remember, and that upset me more than it should have. I knew it had a lot to do with everything that had been going on in my head lately; my mind had felt like a never-ending maze of dominos tumbling over for the past month.
After getting Sunny taken care of for the night, I grabbed my phone from the small barn office and checked for missed calls. Sure enough, I had one and a voice mail.
“Have a nice night of phone sex.” Garth smacked my arm as he passed by. “Say hi to Rowen for me.”
I had the phone to my ear, waiting for the voice mail to start, so I gave Garth a reply in sign language.
“Sorry. I meant, moan hi to Rowen for me.” Garth gave me a thumbs-up as he left the barn.
I’d had my fill of Garth Black for one day three hours ago. Finally, I was getting a reprieve.
“Hey, Jesse, it’s me.” Rowen’s voice put an instant smile on my face. “So it looks like I missed you. Again. I know you’ve been really busy.” There was a long pause, long enough it made me freeze. “So, I really didn’t want to tell you this on a voice mail, but since I missed you last night and you missed me tonight, I have to tell you some way . . . I won’t be able to come out next weekend.” My smile was gone. So far gone. “I didn’t realize it when we made plans for me to come visit, but that’s the same weekend as the Spring Art Show. Since I guess I’m on the committee, I can’t really miss it.” Rowen sighed, sounding as bad as I felt. “And even though I know you can’t come see me with everything you’ve got going on, I’m still going to be selfish and ask if you can. Because I want to see you, Jesse. I want to see you so bad I’m half tempted to just drop out of school so I don’t have to be at this Spring Art Show thingie. Okay, so I’m exaggerating. A little.” Another long sigh. “I’m sorry. I suck as a girlfriend and, apparently, I suck at keeping a calendar. All right, I’ll stop taking up your time with my ramblings and let you get to bed. I know you’ve got to be exhausted. I’ll try calling about the same time tomorrow night. Okay?”
I was already trying to remember which button I needed to punch to replay the message because, even though it was just a voice mail, it was Rowen. It was a piece of her I could have and hold on to.
“I’m just getting ready to head out with Jax and the other person on the committee so we can get this sucker planned, but I couldn’t go a night without talking to you. Or at least, talking to your recording.” That time, I sighed with her. “I miss you, Jesse. Right now, it almost feels like I miss you as much as I love you . . . and you know how much that is. Sleep tight and sweet dreams. Sweet dreams of me, okay?” She ended her call with an air kiss, and I hit the replay button immediately.
So many things unsettled me about that message. I also knew there were just as many things that should have reassured me, and the old me would have focused on the good and barely noticed the bad. But the other person, the Jesse that was caught in a tug-of-war between the old and new, was only concerned with the unsettling parts. That, of course, unsettled me even more.
I left the barn listening to Rowen’s message again and wishing I could will her there. For one minute even. Just so I could hold her and she could hold me and I would know everything would be all right. I’d remind myself of the man she saw when she looked at me and remember why it was so important that I overcome my internal battle. I couldn’t seem to win the war for myself, but I believed I could for her. I’d do anything for Rowen, including caging demons I’d unknowingly set free. I just needed to see her. To feel her close. I needed more than a message left on my phone. I wished I didn’t, I wished a few voice mails and a couple of phone calls could be enough, but I knew it wasn’t. I wasn’t as strong as I thought, and realizing that was terrifying.
Heading up the porch steps, I was about to hit replay for the third time when I noticed something moving from the corner of my eye. Mom was on one of the swings, a plastic bin in her lap, smiling gently at me.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?” Mom’s voice always had an undercurrent of concern—that’s part of what made her such an incredible mother and person—but her greeting held more concern than normal. She knew something was up with me, but she’d given me my space. She’d always known what I needed, even during those first few years.
“Hey, Mom . . . um . . . I’m . . . I’m doing . . .” I’d been putting up a good front, but I guess my I’m fine facade was taking a temporary break.
“Yeah, Jess. I know.” Moving a couple of the bins from beside her, she patted the freed space. “Come keep me company. The girls get enough of me during the day, and your dad has been snoring for two hours now.”
I wanted to sit and talk with Mom . . . and I didn’t want to sit and talk with Mom. Experience had proven she could get to the bottom of what was troubling me in a short, innocent-seeming conversation. I wasn’t ready for her to work her magic yet. I wasn’t ready to speak openly about it; I still hadn’t let go of the hope that it would go away on its own.
However, at the end of the day, I could say no to my mom about as often as I could to Rowen. “What are you doing out here?” I asked, approaching the swing.
“Sorting through old pictures. I’ve gotten way behind on getting things labeled and into albums. Obviously,” she said, motioning at the bins filled to capacity with photos.
“Yeah, but why are you doing it out here? Inside’s a little warmer.” I was just unzipping my heavy Carhartt jacket when she shook her head.
“You keep that on, sweetie. Thank you, though. Besides, it’s nice being outside in the cool every now and then when you spend your days in a hot kitchen.” I settled into the swing beside her and lifted my brows. “Okay. I might be out here because I was waiting for you.”
“You almost had me convinced with the photo bins, Mom. Really.”
“Not quite, though?”
“Given none of them were open, that kind of gave you away.” I couldn’t tell how many deep conversations Mom and I’d gotten into when I thought she needed nothing more than help drying the dishes, or plucking green beans, or any one of the other everyday tasks she liked to use as a gateway to something big.