“Yes. I’ve gone over it, and so has your uncle,” Mom tells me. I look down again. The pen is already in my hand, and I have no idea how it got there. With a few little squiggles, I put my name on the paper. The ink is black and looks so stark against the white document. Someone pulls the sheet away and replaces it with the second. Carter points at the signature line again, and I notice how neat his hands are. I bet he gets manicures. The second one is easier to sign, but it feels more final for some reason.
I lean back in my chair with the pen still clutched in my fingers and look around the kitchen like it will somehow be different now. The same cream colored cabinets and outdated countertops greet me. I drag in a breath, and I can still smell the hay from the barn and the heat of the afternoon on my skin.
How could so much change so fast? I feel like I’m losing control, even though, in theory, I should feel the complete opposite. I don’t have to worry about losing my land, I don’t have to strip, and my mom is showing signs of not only life, but maybe even wanting to live again. I have everything I ever wanted, and it terrifies me.
I want to call Rafe. As the thought registers, it seems like the best idea I’ve ever had. He can make me forget, even for just a few minutes. Carter starts to pack up the papers on the table. He and Mom share small talk about the weather, and I just sit and stare off into the distance.
Mom blindsided me. I’m not exactly mad at her. I mean, how could I be? But I’m upset or freaked out… I don’t even know what I am.
My chair screeches across the floor when I stand abruptly. Mom looks at me, but she doesn’t say anything when I walk away without so much as a backwards glance. I need a few minutes to myself.
I’m breathing hard when I reach the top of the stairs. I glance at my bedroom door. There’s a poster hanging on it with a quote that says, ‘Why fit in, when you were born to stand out?’ I picked it up at an art show Gwen dragged me to a few summers ago. Even then, I never really felt like I fit in, and the quote spoke to me. I wanted to get a frame for it, but I never got around to it. It sat around so long, Mom ended up just tacking it up on my door so it wouldn’t get ruined or tossed out.
I barely even look at it anymore. It’s just become another part of the house, but it stands out now, reminding me of a time when I felt like I was brave for wanting something different than what was expected of me. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like that.
Everything scares me now, even the stupid Ferris wheel scared me. But why?
Chapter 16
“Lucy, are you coming down for dinner?” I glance over at the clock. It’s nearly six, and I haven’t been downstairs since I escaped the kitchen hours ago. I skipped lunch, and now I’m starving.
“Be down in a minute,” I call, then sit up slowly. The change in position makes my head throb, but that could also be because I haven’t had much to eat today, or anything to drink for that matter.
I texted Rafe after I gave myself a little time to relax, but he never responded. I think I broke the rule about waiting for the guy to call you back first, but I didn’t care at the time. I’m feeling a little silly about it now though.
Mom already has the table set with a big pan of stir-fry in the center. I feel guilty the moment I see it. She made my favorite, and I’ve been upstairs pouting like a brat because she didn’t tell me about something. “Sorry, Ma,” I say forlornly. “Stuff is just happening so fast, and I got…”
“Overwhelmed,” she finishes for me. “It’s fine, sit down.” Her tone is still very serious. It makes me think the stir-fry is to butter me up for more news.
I pull out my chair, but neither of us reach for the food. Mom lets out a sigh, then looks right into my eyes. “There’s something else I need to tell you, Lucy,” she starts, and my stomach drops. I nod, because I can’t form words right now. “I thought it was important the ranch be in your name because I’m going to move out soon.”
My face scrunches up. I must have misunderstood her. “Huh?”
She takes another deep breath. “It’s for both of us, Lucy.” Her voice is much softer.
I glare. “Both of us?” I don’t know why I’m so mad, but I am.
“You’re just getting your life started, and I’m…I’m finally getting mine back.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “This is because of the money,” I snap.
She is already shaking her head, but her words belie her gesture. “It’s possible because of the money. I’ve been thinking about this for several months, Lucy. I never brought it up because I knew you would never let go of this place, and after everything you’ve done for us, staying here was the least I could do.”
“You act like it’s horrible here.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s hard to be surrounded by things I love but can’t do anymore,” she counters.
“You never even tried. I bought you the saddle,” I argue, my voice growing louder. I’ve never yelled at my mother before.
“I need to look forward, Lucy. I can never be the same person I was.” There’s a sheen of tears in her eyes, and I feel guilty for it. I avert my gaze, still angry. I feel like she’s abandoning me for the money, but it’s probably not fair to feel that way. This isn’t about me, it’s about her.
She did bring up selling the property a few months after she got out of the hospital, but I wouldn’t hear it. I shut the idea down immediately. I never even considered that maybe she didn’t want to be here anymore. I just assumed she was worried about money. I sniffle. “Careful what you wish for, huh?” The back of my throat hurts from not allowing myself to cry, but I can deal with it. Both of us are quiet for a long while. I feel like I’m sitting at a table with a stranger, and I don’t know what to say or do.
“I’m not leaving you, babe. It’s just time we both paddle our own canoe for a little while.” I want to snap at her that I don’t want to paddle my own fucking canoe, that I thought we we’re a team and we rowed this boat together, but I manage to keep my mouth shut. When I imagined my future, she was always there for every step. Instead of responding, I reach for the tongs and put a pinch of food on my plate. It doesn’t even look good at this point, but if I eat, then I can get the hell out of this kitchen, and that’s all I care about right now.
Mom goes through the same motions I do. We eat in silence, and I clean up the table like usual. She waits at the table as if she thinks I might want to talk some more, but I tell her good night as soon as the dishwasher is loaded and disappear up to my bedroom. Here I thought I was already grown up, yet I feel like a baby right now. My pillow is damp when I fall asleep.
* * *
