“That’s the point, darling. The point and the problem.” Before I can figure out what she means, she turns back to me. “What are your dreams?”
Every sentence feels like a provocation, every question a test. I’m wilting under the heat of her gaze, but Bradley’s right. I’m not a child. I don’t need to let her bully me.
“Conservation. I want to bring a species back from the brink of extinction.”
“That doesn’t count. I’m talking about your grubby, selfish dreams. Your ambitions.”
“Don’t lecture the woman about her dreams,” Bradley complains. I note with relief that he doesn’t call me a ‘girl’, though that’s clearly what Grace thinks I am.
“Fine, let’s say that’s actually her dream.” She leans towards me. “You should follow your selfish dream. That’s what I did. Give everything to force it into existence.”
“I have loans,” I say.
“Well, when you’re on your deathbed, you can always be proud of paying off your loans.”
She doesn’t get it. If I get a graduate degree, my loans will cross six figures, and then where will I be? Thirty, in crippling debt, without a job. I’m not one of the brilliant ones. And if you’re not brilliant, there are no jobs for conservation-minded bird scientists.
Only the rich have the time to follow their dreams in gorgeous homesteads, surrounded by forests and rivers. The rest of us have to grind just to stay afloat. It’s exhausting.
“Roll the dice,” she says. “That’s what life is for.”
“And what if it doesn’t work out?” Bradley interrupts. “What if she doesn’t roll the right number?”
“At least she tried.”
“It’s her life, darling.” Bradley turns to me. “Don’t listen to Grace. Everything worked out for her.”
“Clearly,” Grace says, rolling her eyes.
It looks pretty clear to me, but I just smile and stab the last piece of tofu from my plate.
“Some people grow up with silver spoons in their mouths,” Bradley continues. “It’s different for the rest of us. We can actually see how far there is to fall.”
“I walk that tightrope every day, my dear.”
“Please, you’ve never held a real job in your life. You have two MFAs, for Christ’s sake. No one with any sense of the real world would do that. I mean, look at Don.” He glances at me. “Don is our neighbor, through the forest to the east. We probably have one conversation a year, and I’m not sure who else he talks to. His place is falling down around him.”
“A hermit,” I say.
“Quite literally. And a prepper. He has a bunker and enough guns to see off an army.”
“Hermit is a slur,” Grace says. “And Don has made his own decisions. He’s taken risks and lived with the consequences. We should admire him.”
“Please. He’s a solitary drunk who burned every bridge back to a normal life.”
Bradley stands up and takes my plate, while Grace stares at him with a faint smile. I wait for her to fire back, but she’s holding her tongue. I wonder what will happen after I leave. Will they start screaming at each other? Or rip off each other’s clothes? It seems like either could happen.
She clearly loves him, but it looks like a violent, combustible love. I’ve never had passion like that for anyone. I’ve neverscreamed at someone, then had sex, then screamed again. It looks exhausting and exhilarating, vital and destructive. A candle burning at both ends. Who doesn’t want to live like that, just once? Who doesn’t want to feel what life feels like, at its most raw and intense?
I help clear the table, desperate not to be left alone with Grace, but Bradley touches my shoulder. “Please. You’re a guest.”
Grace chuckles, but when Bradley leaves the room, her smile fades. She looks at me with intense fascination, and I don’t know whether to be flattered or scared.
“Tell me about the boy.”
“What boy?”
“Come. I know there’s a boy.”
