“I wouldn’t have hidden anything from you…” I bite my lips gently, though I know that might not be entirely true.
I want Dallas to like me for me, but sometimes it’s hard to separate my current, true self from the stage persona of Dove. Having the anonymity of the elevator brought down my walls, just like the secret pen pal relationship we maintained did years ago. I’d been real earlier today, and hearing Dallas liked that version of me, well, that’s something I haven’t heard from a man in years. They typically wanted me to act like my stage presence, not the real Dove that had more depth to her than just being an artist.
There’s still so much I want to ask him. There’s lots to learn about him and things that I want to share about myself—everything he’s missed since he gave me the nickname and stage name I’ve embraced as my own.
He smiles, one of those genuine smiles I feel is reserved just for me. It lights up his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and making the years melt away.
“Meet you at the co-op tomorrow night for that pumpkin pie you gushed about?”
I smile and nod. “That sounds good, Dallas.”
Chapter 21 – Dallas
I'm sure there are many ways a person could describe me if they had to.
Son of Giselle Golden, winner of three golden globes and model featured twenty-two times in Playboy magazine throughout the eighties and nineties.
Stepson to Jackson Roe, beloved director of Emmy Nominated TV drama, theBig Splashamongst other major series casting some of the highest paid actors and actresses in Hollywood.
The youngest CEO to have ever built and sold their app for over five million dollars by the age of twenty years old.
An engineer.
A decorated marine.
Avid surfer.
Hobby farmer.
But none of those things and yet all of those things make me into who I really am.
I’ve been grappling with an identity crisis since I separated from the Marines. And instead of confronting the root of it, I’ve found myself burying the fragmented pieces of my past—scattered across various years, careers, identities, and what feels like multiple lives back in Los Angeles and moving to the middle of nowhere. It was similar to how I was currently planting garlic in the freshly fertilized garden of my backyard. The ground was fertile, but it wouldn't grow unless the herb was buried correctly. I, too, was trying to plant myself correctly in Lonestar Junction so that I could rediscover who I am.
I space each clove about 2-4 inches apart, pointed end facing upward and still covered in their husks. I press the cloves down into the dirt two inches further moving slowly as I count, my mind whirling with thoughts of how tonight might go.
Sure, I've been lonely since moving to this small town but perhaps always thinking that Dove was nearby has kept me from going out to try to find a date, meet someone to spend my time with, and instead, it’s kept me home bound working on my new farm, contemplating what my life has become.
I’ve never been a green thumb, and painfully realized that when I first moved here, my eyes landing on the mess of overgrown garden and weed filled fields that littered Golden Farm. But Wylie had been closely helping me chip away at the clean-up and I’ve been finding new meaning and purpose in spending my nights with a bottle of whiskey, researching the appropriate crops to plant for the season and the best way of doing it.
Golden Farm was a work in progress just like me. A parable for the life I was now living.
When I was younger, I believed I could bulldoze my way through anything I tried. I never had to put in effort for my grades, my career, or even getting women. Everything came naturally to me. I lacked humility, patience and needed a damn good humbling.
Farming, growing, planting, and tilling took patience, consistency, and a whole lot of humility. When things come too easily to you in life, you stop trying to learn. The failure of a crop that you've invested months in, and money into, will humbleyou quickly.
But there'd been a slow metamorphous occurring inside of me since the day Dove first wrote to me twelve years ago. And just like the patience I’d been developing to learn how to cultivate a well-rounded garden and a thriving farm, I’d have patience in earning her forgiveness for abandoning our friendship, building new trust with her, and possibly, her friendship again.
Given my past and her current situation, including the person that she was in love with, I didn't know if anything more could ever come out of our relationship. But my time overseas and my somewhat lost life that I was currently living had taught me that sometimes, you just have to let things be and not push for more. Regardless of how little I wanted to bejustfriends with her, I decided to focus on the present moment and see where the night would go.
I finish another row of garlic, turn to my barrel full of mulch and scoop a thick layer over the planted buds before watering it carefully. Once I’m satisfied with how they look, I head inside to prepare for my first Thanksgiving with the Cameron's at Ashwood ranch. While Wylie and Stevie’s ranch neighbored mine, Nash and Jovie Cameron’s were on the opposite side, an equally expansive and impressive ranch that Jovie’s grandfather, Clarence Ashwood had left to her in his will.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve showered and changed into my usual casual attire: a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. While the Cameron boys and their friends typically wear cowboy boots, hats, and button-up flannels, my style was more city-relaxed. I quickly learned that my new friend Wylie would never let that go without saying something.
“You might be a big, tough Marine who can handle most dangers on the battlefield, but I stand by my belief that you'll end up getting stung by a poisonous scorpion or attacked by some wild animal if you don't start dressing like you belong in Texas.” He gestures with the serving spoon full of mashed potatoes thathe’s mid-scooping onto Stevie’s plate, pointing it directly at me when I enter the dining room at Ashwood.
“Jovie knows all about scorpion stings,” Clay chimes in with a big grin.
“Don’t remind me of the many times you've put my wife's life in danger,” Nash responds.
