Fall With Me
Page 16“But . . . isn’t that what you do?”
“It was. Like I told you though, sweetheart, this whole experience has kind of given me a second chance at things. Listen, I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to laugh at me.”
I look out at the horizon. There is a tiny slice of sun left.
“What would ever give you the idea I’d do something like that.”
“I just . . . I kind of came to this realization the other night. I’m glad the whole kidnapping thing happened.”
“Alleged.”
He nudges me with his elbow. “Alleged, yeah, yeah. Okay. If this alleged kidnapping didn’t happen, I’d still be in Thailand—or no, I probably would’ve gone back to Europe and been over in Ibiza or some shit—still partying my ass off, getting laid, that sort of thing. Staying up all night and being strung out the next day. Getting to see the sunrise only because I hadn’t gone to sleep the night before. But instead, I get to be here. Where I’m actually doing something. These kids? They’re pretty cool. They’re fun, they’re into this shit. You know, and it’s cool to be outside, to just kind of be in nature, and not be on anything and thinking that the trees are having a conversation with you.”
The last sliver of sun disappears. “You talk to trees?”
“I might’ve mixed some K with some molly and some really dank bud and thought I was conversing with a tree before, yes.”
I shake my head. “I can’t even imagine the life you live.”
“But that’s the thing—I don’t want to live like that. I mean, I’m not saying I want to go live the life of a monk or something, but I really like being here. I like what I’m doing here.”
“You want my job next summer? There will be a position available.”
“Where are you gonna be?”
I hug my legs and let my chin rest on my knees. “I don’t know. Somewhere else. I’m going to graduate next year.”
“That’s cool. What are you studying?”
“Sociology.”
“You like it?”
“Yes. But at the same time, I’ll be glad to graduate and move on. I’m ready for that.”
“I enrolled in a few semesters of college. I was in the middle of pledging the fraternity but then I dropped out and actually went to Greece instead, which, honestly, was way better.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, California is a big state . . .”
“It’s okay. It’s pathetic. So it’s hard for me to imagine what it’s like to be so well-traveled. Never mind Greece or Thailand, I’d just love to visit the other side of this country.”
“The East Coast?” He shrugs. “You’re not missing much. But I’ll probably be heading back there at some point, to see my mom. She gets a little frantic if I don’t come spend a weekend with her at the house in the Hamptons every August. Maybe you should come with.”
“Well, I don’t know about that . . .” I say. “Maybe.” I wonder that if I went back to New York with him, if there’d be the chance to find something out. Something that might make a difference. What are the chances? “Maybe a little trip wouldn’t be so bad.”
“I’m really not a bad guy, you know.”
I think of Sean, the feel of his crushing weight, his certainty that he’s always right, no matter what. “I know,” I tell Griffin.
I let him walk me back to my cabin, long after the sun has set. He doesn’t try to kiss me, but instead gives me a hug and whispers, “Happy birthday.” He smiles and touches his index finger to the tip of my nose, then heads toward his own cabin.
Only after he’s disappeared from view do I realize that I really wouldn’t have minded if he had tried to kiss me.
Chapter 19: Griffin
It’s true; I almost kissed Jill on her birthday. But I didn’t, for some reason, which is strange, because it means I was exercising restraint, which is not generally a quality I would associate with myself. Some of the campers and I are helping Bill hack up one of the live oak trees that isn’t so alive anymore, and I try to pinpoint exactly why I didn’t kiss her. I certainly wanted to. And I don’t think it’d be overreaching on my part to say that she probably would’ve been open to it, since she’s had that change of heart.
But then she started asking about my dad, which for me is about the biggest boner killer in existence. And I’d been feeling pretty good about having this second chance at my life, at maybe doing something right, but when the topic of dear old Dad came up, it got me wondering whether or not this “new life” I was going to try to forge for myself was actual just a pathetic delusion of grandeur. A favorite phrase of Dad’s, actually. I mean, maybe I was no different than he was. Hadn’t I spent the last seven or eight years traveling around, basically doing whatever the fuck I wanted? I don’t care about money as much as Dad, but maybe that’s just because it’s always been there. It’s never been something I’ve had to be concerned about or worry about where it was going to come from.
I turn the saw off and walk over to Bill, who’s showing some of the campers how to properly buck a log. It’s so easy to see he’s completely in his element; in fact, Bill is one of those guys who seems like he’s always in his element, regardless of where he is. Unlike, say, my dad, who can only feel that way if he’s surrounded by all the luxury he’s become accustomed to, and about half a dozen ass-kissers, to assure him he really is top dog.
But it’s Bill I want to be like, I realize, as I stand there. Bill, in his worn-out jeans, faded Sea Horse Ranch shirt, and black Stetson. He just seems so content in his element. He sees me looking at him and gives me a smile, then lets the kids go at the log themselves. He walks over.
“Griffin,” he says. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” I say.
“You’re pretty good with that thing.” He nods at the saw.
“Thanks. I’ve had some practice.” I glance over at the campers, wrangling with the log. “Hey, Bill, could I ask you something?”
“Did you always know you wanted to do this?”
“The ranch? I suppose I did. My great-grandfather built the place, and I just never had the desire to leave. You know how some people get bit by the traveling bug and just can’t seem to stay in one place for long?”
I smile. “Sounds familiar.”
“Oh, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but I just always felt like this place where I grew up was the place that I was meant to be. Some people think that sort of thing sounds awfully boring, or like I missed out on a lot in life, but really, I wouldn’t have done it any other way.” His gaze too, goes over to the campers. “I mean, look at them. They’re all having a great time out here—they always do. I get to share this piece of my life with them for a few weeks every summer, and I couldn’t ask for more than that. I guess if I’d been born in a city, or had parents who didn’t care much for the outdoors, it might’ve taken me longer to find this, but one way or another, I would have.”
“Well, I really appreciate you letting me stay on here, Bill. I’m having a blast. I kind of feel like this is what I’ve been looking for all this time, even though I didn’t know I was looking for something to begin with.”
“A lot of the time that’s how it goes: What you’re looking for finds you before you even knew you needed it. Or wanted it. I’ll tell you though, Griffin, you’ve got a good way about you. With the kids, especially. And there are a lot of great opportunities out there for someone like yourself.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, of course. I could put you in touch with a few people, if you’re interested. My pal John runs a teen rehab center up in Marin, and he’s always asking me to send qualified people his way. I’ll give you his number later. You should give him a call.”
I nod. “That would be great.” Maybe once all this over, I’ll just stay in California. The idea doesn’t sound half bad. “Oh yeah, there’s one other thing I wanted to ask you,” I tell him. He looks at me. “How are things looking for Sunday? I was thinking I might take Jill out after she’s done visiting her mom. You know, since it was just her birthday and all.”
“Absolutely,” Bill says, without hesitation. “We’ve got it covered. Jill deserves to go out for a good time, anyway. She works hard. You two go have fun.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I think we will.”
Chapter 20: Jill
On Saturday night, Griffin finds me as I’m coming back from the barn. He lopes over and slings an arm across my shoulders. “Sweetheart,” he says. “What do you have planned for tomorrow night?”
“Just going to visit my mom. Head back here. Why, what’s up?”
“How would you feel about me accompanying you up to the city? I can give you and your mom some time to visit, if you want and then I thought I could take you out.”
I glance at him. “You’re really not going to let this go—taking me out for my birthday, are you?”
“We can pretend it’s for something else.”
I think about this for a minute. “Okay,” I say. “We can do that. I’ll probably be leaving here around two, two-thirty. And you can come meet my mom, if you’d like. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to meet you.”
He grins. “Ah, so you’ve told her about me? Only good things, I’m sure.”
He pulls me a little closer and turns his head so his mouth is right by my ear. “I will gladly be your companion.”
We get to my cabin and stand there for a moment, his arm still around me. For a fleeting second, I actually consider asking him in. But instead I just slip out from under his arm.
“So I’ll meet you here tomorrow afternoon,” I tell him.
He winks. “Sounds good, sweetheart.”
As expected, Mom is very pleased to meet Griffin, so much so that I wonder if I should have brought him over before. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her look so happy.
It’s a mild day, so we sit outside on the deck, and Mom asks Griffin questions about all the different places he’s been, and he does have some good stories. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, a pair of aviator sunglasses, and he does look deliciously handsome. At one point, I slip away and go upstairs to my room. I’m generally a jeans and t-shirt type girl myself, but I do have a few seldom worn, dressier outfits, and I dig one out of the back of my closet. It’s a simple cotton dress, navy blue and tan stripes, giving it sort of a nautical look. I put it on and look at myself in the full-length mirror. I’m not used to seeing myself in a dress, but it doesn’t look bad.
Griffin whistles when I step back outside. “Look at you,” he says.
Mom smiles. “It’s so nice to see you dressed up!” she says. “And that is one of my favorite dresses.”
“Well, I figured since we’re going out after this it might be good if I wore something that didn’t smell like a horse barn.”
When we’re getting ready to leave, I see a different orchid sitting on the kitchen table. It’s as lurid as the others ones, and for a moment, I hate Sean for making me dislike orchids so much.
“When did that come?” I ask.
“A few days ago,” Mom says. “It’s always nice to get flowers.”
“Sure,” I say. This must be the I’m sorry I tried to rape you orchid. I honestly can’t believe he had the gall to send it after that, but then again, perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising.
“My ex likes to send orchids,” I tell Griffin.
He laughs. “How lovely. Did you know that ‘orchid’ comes from the Greek word for ‘testicle’?”
I think about the last—and hopefully final—time I saw Sean, and I can’t help but laugh either. “Then that is actually very fitting,” I say.
Griffin takes me out to dinner and then we walk around the Castro. It’s a warm night and the sidewalks are crowded, people are spilling out from the bars. We go by a café with big windows, music blaring. Griffin stops and looks in. “Hey, let’s check this out,” he says.