Image: A wire basket of eggs, the shells ranging in shade from pale brown to celadon.
#breakyourshell #digforgold #selftrust #reachforthesky
At some point Libby must have drifted off. As much as she wanted to stay awake, savoring every second of this time together, the last few days had taken a toll.
But she’d learned things last night, coloring in whole new sections of her picture of Jefferson. Giving her most of the towel while he stretched out on his side at the very edge. The soft kiss he’d pressed against her forehead as she was falling asleep. Pulling her closer when she shivered, his arm draped over her like a blanket.
And that moment when she’d opened her eyes and foundhim looking back at her, their faces inches apart. They were near enough to count each other’s eyelashes. Everything faded away except Jefferson, as if they were drifting in the silence of deep space.
Libby didn’t usually go in for goopy sayings about eyes being a window into the soul (that was more Lillibet’s speed), but she found herself hoping it was true, because that would mean he could see right down into the depths of her real self, without the need for any of the words she was too afraid to speak.
“Just in time,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face.
Belatedly she realized the sky must be lightening if she could see him this well. Glancing away from his face, she clocked the first hints of morning overhead, a gradual undarkening that presaged the big display of color and light.
Libby sat up, a little stiff but not caring in the slightest. She leaned against Jefferson, and he put his arm around her shoulders. Together they soaked it in. And while Libby knew she was happy, she also felt like crying. Just a little—from the beauty, and the improbability of finding someone like Jefferson, and needing to release a backlog of emotional pressure.
She had a good fifteen minutes of peace and tranquility before the first lash of panic.
“She’s fine,” Jefferson assured Libby, when she looked around for the goat. “Having a morning snack.”
Libby’s stomach rumbled. The crayon-box sunrise was starting to disappear. Soon it would give way to the blue of a regular summer day, with all its practical concerns. She stood and stretched, shaking out the towel while Jefferson untied the rope. Get the goat home, clean herself up, and—no. Coffee, then shower. God, donuts would be so good right now. Could she borrow a car to drive to Ted’s?
As they made their way back to the house, Libby let herself imagine an alternate reality where Jefferson was her steady, committed boyfriend (because what other kind of boyfriend wouldhe be?) and the two of them were about to cruise to the bakery together. A lazy morning, with nothing on the agenda but hanging out.
“Libby!” Keoki’s voice snapped her out of the daydream. His eyes landed on the goat Jefferson was leading along the path. “Where were you?”
“On the beach.” It was true-ish, if you collapsed the timeline. “We—took him for a walk. I mean her. The goat.”
Keoki crossed his arms. “Did she eat anything weird?”
“Define weird.” She thought of her bathing suit. Had it really eaten the strap or just given it a good nibble?
“I’ll take her from here,” he told Jefferson, who handed him the rope. “Rush order for chèvre.” Which hopefully wouldn’t taste like Spandex.
Jefferson nodded as if that made perfect sense.Chev-ruhmust be showing up on charcuterie boards in the wilds of Wyoming. “See you back at the house,” he said to Libby.
She watched him walk away. It was stupid to feel sad, like the sand was running out of the hourglass. Libby scratched her scalp. Speaking of sand.
“This is a really important supplier.” Keoki kept his voice low in case Jefferson was still in hearing range. “I can’t mess up my relationship with them. Reputation is everything in this business.”
“Sorry.”
He shrugged off her apology with the usual Keoki no-big-thing attitude, but she could tell it was an effort. This was a much bigger mistake than Libby accidentally eating an important ingredient he’d foolishly left at their place.
“How was the appointment?” she asked, as Keoki tugged the goat into motion. Libby felt another lash of guilt at how close she’d come to forgetting his big day. In a normal week, Cici’s twenty-week ultrasound would have been the number one topic of conversation.
“She’s a girl.” He beamed at Libby over his shoulder. “Big kicker. I’m thinking soccer.”
The goat stopped to nibble on a patch of grass. Three seconds later, she was pulling on her lead, bleating something that sounded like,I’m finished with my snack, asswipes. Get a move on.
“I gotta go, Libs. You can do this. Believe in yourself, okay?”
“Are you quotingLove, Lillibet?”
“It’s a mug Cici has. With the Loch Ness monster.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
Keoki veered toward the front of the house, where Libby could just make out the diesel rumble of the truck waiting to take the goats back to the farm. Her feet carried her slowly toward the backyard. Jefferson was waiting on the terrace.
