Interviewer:The views were incredibly scenic. It must have been surreal to grow up there.
Gloria:At first, I didn’t believe the stars on-screen were real. Because I never noticed them when I lived there. Guess that’s what happens when you focus too much on the work. You miss the opportunity to see the beauty around you.
Chapter 33
The next morning I wake up to an unfamiliar sound. I jolt out of bed and kick off my blankets. “Do you hear that, Gavin?”
“What?” he mumbles, half asleep.
“Listen.”
He props himself up. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly.” I leave Gavin in his bed and peek through the window around the house. No vans camped on our street, no cameras pointed at our house. They’re gone. It isn’t until I check the back window that I see someone out in the field. It’s Dad. His unflappable work ethic never ceases to surprise me, especially given everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.
At first I’m disappointed. I had hoped that the one good outcome of our blowout yesterday would be forward movement. But it looks like Dad is reverting to his old habits again. Instead of spending time with his family, he’s pouring all his attention into his work. Even his movements with the farming equipment seem more intentional, pounding the earth with his tool with more force than usual. That’s when I notice he’s not tending the soil; he’s unearthing the crops that had just begun to sprout.
Without changing out of my pajamas, I rush outside.
“What are you doing, Dad?” I ask, running over to him. “Why areyou destroying the crops? Are you really going to walk away from the farm, just like that? I’m sure the co-op won’t kick you out for my mistake. I’ll explain to them that—”
He raises a hand to stop me. “I’m not giving up on the farm. Don’t you know me better than that? I’m no quitter.” Dad tilts his head and looks at me with an expression I can’t tell is serious or not.
“Then why are you digging it up?”
“I’m sectioning off a piece of the farm.” He spears his tool into the ground and leans on it. “For Gavin.”
“What?”
“Until yesterday I didn’t realize he felt that way about me—that you both felt that way about me. On the farm we were constantly afraid of losing everything. We worked hard to make up for the loss. Now fear drives me to work compulsively. It’s why I was a workaholic at It’s Ok! and why I spend so much time with the co-op now. I’m afraid of losing everything.” His expression softens. “But after I heard what you and Gavin think of me, it made me realize I could lose you. And no amount of success will matter if I lose my family.”
I can’t say I can’t relate. Though the catchphrase did what I hoped it would do at the time—resurrect my reputation with the public—it came at the cost of my reputation with my family. And if I’m not careful, I’ll lose others I care about.
“I’m not good with words—I’m more of a doer.” A slight smile appears on his lips. “So this garden is for Gavin to grow what he wants. A symbol of my support for his dreams. He’s a good cook, and I know he’ll do well.”
“I think so too.” I choke up. I’m happy Gavin is finally getting the support that he needs. “Gavin’s Garden,” I say, looking at Dad’s progress.
“Gavin’s Garden,” he repeats, smiling. “I like that.” He wipes his brow.
“Can I help?” I ask, partly out of guilt. Not for the first time, I’ve misunderstood Dad’s intentions.
He pauses, glancing around. “I noticed some new weeds sprouted. You feel like pulling them out?” he asks skeptically.
“Sure,” I say. I grab a tool from the shed and rejoin Dad on the field. Except when I look around, I can’t find any weeds.
“They’re everywhere.” Dad points around us.
“These?” I do a double take. “They look too pretty to be weeds.” I point to the purple flowers blooming on top.
“Some weeds don’t have deep roots, so they have to find other ways to protect themselves. They bloom to mimic flowers and they’re prickly on the outside,” Dad says, and again, I can’t say I can’t relate. “The thing about weeds is, they’re not a problem that can be solved with a one-time solution. They require constant maintenance. And if you wait too long, they’ll find a way to take over everything you’ve worked so hard to cultivate.”
“Dad,” I say, feeling like his weed analogy is hitting too close to home. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to dump on you like that yesterday, but I felt like it had to be said.”
“I know,” he says understandingly. “You are a doer, like me. The way you speak, with such authority and confidence, I see so much of myself in you.” His smile reaches his eyes, which stare at me as if for the first time.
“Really?” Inexplicable pride blooms in me. I haven’t been Dad’s biggest supporter, criticizing him more than praising him, but this moment is making me realize it’s because I never thought I had his support.
