“Who does?”
“My sister. And my mom. And it seems like you do. How did you choose… is it arborism?”
Max smiles. “Arboriculture. It’s a mouthful. I don’t know that I really chose it. I kind of just grew into it. I knew I wanted to work outside. I’m interested in conservation, so I think I always wanted a job that landed somewhere in between being a scientist and wielding a chainsaw.”
“Seems like you found it.”
“I started out working in landscaping, and clients were always asking us for recommendations for arborists. So when I was ready to startmy own thing, I became one. But it was never a grand plan. I just followed my gut and did the next logical thing.”
“But you like it?”
“I love it. I get to work for myself, choose my own jobs, set my own schedule, spend more time with trees than people.”
“Heaven,” I say, recognizing him as a fellow introvert.
He reflects for a moment. “Now that I think about it, Ididlove climbing as a kid. I was always up a tree. So maybe it was predetermined.” He refills our tumblers. “What about you? What did young Cricket like to do?”
“I was obsessed with animals. Always wanted to be a veterinarian. Which is a bit hard when you’re a college dropout.”
He shrugs as if he’s not so sure, and the self-deprecation that has always been my defense mechanism suddenly feels childish. Maybe I’ve been holding on too tightly to the version of myself that’s a failure. I wonder what it would be like to give myself a fresh start.
The sky has darkened, and just a few violet streaks of cloud remain above the horizon. Max lies back on the blanket we have spread over a large slab of rock, and after a moment, he gently pulls me down beside him. I can feel my heart thud as he kisses me, and I wonder how long it has been since I felt like this with someone. For a moment, Seth flashes through my mind, but I have to admit: this is even more intense than whatever I felt that summer. The audacity of teenage-hood has given way to something more considered and powerful. Max touches me with both patience and intention, taking the lead but also inviting me in. He pulls the strap of my tank top to the side and kisses my collarbone. I can feel the heat of his skin, and I lift the bottom of his T-shirt up, letting him pull it the rest of the way over his head. As things intensify, we shift positions on the sloped rock, laughing as we try to find our equilibrium.
“You’re amazing.” Max exhales.
“You should see me when I’m doing this somewhere other than a rock,” I say.
He laughs and pulls me on top of him, creating a buffer between me and the hard surface beneath us. “Is that better?”
“Much.” I look down at him, tracing my finger along his chest. I can feel him respond, and for a moment, I can’t believe this is really happening. All of my selves begin to chatter—with anxiety, excitement, disbelief—and do their best to hijack my thoughts. But as Max guides my body in a smooth, confident rhythm, I melt into the moment and let myself go.
Chapter 45
The next few weeks fly by in a pleasant flurry, and it feels as though life is moving toward something good. Max and I get together every few days—sometimes we go out, but he is also game for coming to my house when I need to keep an eye on my father. He is always solicitous about chatting with my dad, even when the conversation circles back on itself. There’s a steadiness between us, and I am increasingly confident that he likes me just as much as I like him. Then there’s Nina, whose due date is approaching; I keep my phone with me at all times in case news should arrive. And as far as the oracle at Catwood Pond is concerned, demand continues to surge. Our wait list balloons, and at one point, I find a gaggle of uninvited TikTokers “creating content” in our driveway. Carl’s role quickly evolves into that of bouncer, and we guard our schedule closely, refusing to accept unscheduled visitors so as not to overburden my father. But on a quiet morning in August, we make an exception.
It’s just after lunch when a woman arrives at our door. She introduces herself as Anita and explains that she had been on our calendar in June, but had had to cancel because of a complication with her chemotherapy.
“Anita, yes, I remember,” I say. I can see that she is not well.
“I’m sorry to just show up, but I happened to be passing through town this weekend, and I was hoping to speak with the oracle if he has time,” she explains.
“Of course.” I don’t hesitate, and I lead her into the great room where she takes a seat in one of the armchairs. “Can I get you something? Water or tea?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” she says. “And I won’t stay long. I just… well, I’m on something of a pilgrimage, traveling while I still can. My cancer is spreading and no longer operable, so I decided to stop treatment a few days ago. I just need someone to talk to. And it’s funny, but the first person I thought of was the oracle.”
“Well, I’m sure he would be honored to know that,” I say. Normally, each session begins with Paula leading her meditation, and I am wondering if I can approximate it when I hear a shuffling behind me.
“Hello, hello!” says my father. He carries Dominic, whose fluffy body is so relaxed that it droops into the shape of a horseshoe. Anita’s eyes are lively with anticipation as my father approaches and takes a seat.
“I used to have a cat just like that,” she says.
“Did you?” says my father, giving Dominic a firm pat on the head. “This is our little Dawn.”
Given the gravity of her situation, I am nervous about what Anita might expect from him, and whether he can deliver it. For a moment, I feel the need to mediate their conversation, to somehow ensure that we make this worth Anita’s while. But I decide to put my faith in my father’s abilities, and as they begin to talk, I leave the room so as not to interfere.
I wander into the kitchen, where my phone is on the counter. I have a missed call from Nils, and I immediately call back.
“Cricket?” It’s Nina who picks up the phone.
