Chapter Two #2
Lani’s tone changed ever so slightly before she hung up, and I can’t help but wonder if it wasn’t only because of the photo shoot that she wanted to get off the call. Will she be upset if I don’t go to college with her? And how will I feel without my favourite person in the world by my side?
Shadow pushes against my leg, her tail curled like a question mark at the end.
She purrs and leans in close as I lift her in my arms. The scent of wild mustard flowers, a weed that grows everywhere on the ranch, permeates her coat.
Its spicy, radish-like aroma makes my heart swell with longing for one of Grandpa’s big hugs.
This time of year, his clothes smelled like the weeds.
Ever the optimist, he’d walk through the fields every day looking for signs of grass, Shadow always at his side, the mustard weeds thick with purple and yellow flowers.
I squeeze Shadow into a gentle hug and breathe her in, wondering if she still does the walks without him.
This may not be what most people consider paradise, like Maui, but it’s paradise to me.
Mom finds me a moment later. “Fancy a walk together before the sun gets too hot?” she says.
I smile, nodding, and fall into step with her, enjoying a moment of companiable silence.
“Grandpa must have known how much I love the ranch,” I say eventually.
Mom stops to tie her shoelace. “I think you’re right.”
“But, Mom…”
She stands up and raises her brow.
“The timing sucks. I want to go to college and travel too. And I’m scared. I don’t know what to do with a ranch.”
She looks me straight in the eye. “You’re the only one who knows what they’re doing, Dahlia. Grandma and Grandpa taught you everything they knew, everything their parents knew. That’s lifetimes of priceless knowledge.”
“I guess,” I say, and we start walking again.
“It’s completely up to you,” Mom says.
“Well, that doesn’t make it any easier. Thanks for that.”
“Happy to help with all life-altering decisions. What else have you got for me? Any boys in your life?”
“Um, no,” I say definitively, but thoughts of the bronc rider keep stirring in my mind.
Thoughts that make me blush and squirm all at once.
Getting hooked on a guy so instantly is the behaviour of a swoony twelve-year-old girl, not me.
I shake away the image of him standing confidently in his chaps and cowboy hat before mounting his bronc, not knowing what was to come.
Then my mind replays the horse’s hooves striking his head and his body falling limp.
A heaviness has weighed on my chest since that moment.
One I can’t get rid of or explain. When Mom and I visit the little grocery store in town, I find myself looking for him down every aisle.
“We can do a pros and cons list. The ranch versus college,” Mom offers.
“OK, good idea,” I say, trying to sound chipper. “So, let’s say I go to college – pro: I get out of Silver Springs.”
“Yes, but that’s also a pro for taking over the ranch.” She points her finger in the air. “And it’s warmer over here.”
“True. Pro for the ranch: I can eat all the honey I want.” My mouth waters at the thought.
“OK, a con for going to college: I wouldn’t be able to take care of the ranch and then we’d need to sell.
Neither of us would be able to live here.
Another con: you’d stay in Silver Springs and have in-home care instead of me.
Oh, and what would we do with Blue? And Shadow? There are so many cons.”
“Then let’s try a list for the ranch.”
“A con for taking over this ‘cursed’ ranch: I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing.” My voice grows louder.
“Why did you say it like that?” Mom asks.
I grab a rock in the road and throw it aside. “Because I don’t have a clue. I know they taught me a lot, but I don’t know how to make money managing a ranch.”
“No, no. I mean, cursed.”
I laugh. “Because that’s not a thing, obviously. You and Grandpa always talked about it like the fields are full of weeds instead of grass because of some superstition, but maybe Grandpa just wasn’t meant to be a hay farmer.”
“It wasn’t only Grandpa who couldn’t get grass or a garden to grow. It’s been like this for a hundred years.”
“Probably because we don’t have water,” I point out.
Mom pulls a juniper berry off a tree as we go past and rolls it between two fingers. “No, love. I promise you, even on rainy years, nothing grows here but the cherries.”
I shake my head. “It’s probably the soil, then.” I pause, a sinking feeling invading my gut. I start counting on my fingers the other cons for taking over the ranch. “If I stay, I won’t be able to room with Lani in college like we’ve always planned…”
“But you’re still going to see her in Hawaii, right?”
I shrug. “Yeah. I’m crazy excited about that, but it’s not the same as spending our first year in college eating ramen together and getting in trouble for playing music too loud and staying out till dawn.
” I eye Mom to gauge her disapproval. She just nods.
She understands what it’s like to be young.
“And then the biggest con for not choosing college … is what Dad will think.”
At that moment, Mom’s phone blares at full volume and makes me jump. She uses the siren tone because she sleeps so deeply a normal one won’t wake her up.
“Hello? Yes, this is she.” Mom listens carefully for a moment and halts.
For a couple of minutes, she kicks pebbles off the road and repeats, mm hmm.
Then her eyes close and she tugs a hand down her face.
I frown, gesturing for her to indicate who it is, but she just keeps nodding, looking pale.
Finally, she says, “I understand. I’ll be in touch. ”
“Who was that?” I ask.
“That was the person who owns the tax lien on the ranch,” she says, as though she never thought those words would come from her mouth.
“Apparently, Grandpa wasn’t paying his property taxes.
Because I’m the executor of his estate, it’s my responsibility to either use the estate to pay them or pay them off myself. ”
“What?”
Mom’s eyes get murky with panic. She turns back and marches towards the house.
“What do you mean, ‘use the estate’?” I jog to catch up.
“Sell it or sell things from it,” she says tightly. Her shoe comes untied again, but she doesn’t stop. “I can use the savings he gave me, but that won’t even come close. I can try to get a job at the taco place in town…”
“You’re not supposed to work, Mom,” I warn. Her panic is infectious, and I feel my heart beat faster. “How much is it?”
Mom tries to catch her breath between words. “Well, because this cursed place is so big, and its value keeps increasing, each year it’s about ten thousand dollars.”
My mouth falls open.
“He missed three years, and it needs to be paid within six months, or the deed will belong to the lien owner.”
I take a deep breath, letting this sink in. We have to pay a huge sum, fast, or we could lose the ranch forever.
“Mom, it’s OK. We’ll figure it out. I know we will.”