6. Cami #2
I pull out my phone and start to text Violet, but then I remember what Jenna made me promise. I can’t talk about this with Violet. Who can I talk to? This is worse than not knowing. Now I know and can’t talk about it with anyone.
When I look at my phone again, I realize that I have a few missed calls from the bank. Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s too late to call back now since they’re closed.
Crap.
Maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think I can take any more news today. And I still have three weeks left before I need to leave the ranch. But I am curious to hear what they have to say. Maybe it was something good. But a feeling in my gut says it isn’t.
I pack up the empty containers and the used coffee grounds for the garden compost. I load up my truck and head through town, deciding to stop in for a quick bite to eat at The Black Dog before I head home.
I see Ollie’s truck out front and head inside, scanning the bar for him. He’s playing pool with a couple of other guys in the corner, so I wave to him. He smiles and lifts a hand to wave back .
Walker and Violet stand behind the counter, lost in each other and in conversation.
I love how they are together. Walker dotes on Violet, and they’re always holding hands, sneaking kisses when they think no one is watching.
Violet loves him and his daughter Mack, and they’ve become a family.
I want someone to want me like that. To do the daily mundane things.
Ride horses, cook dinner together, work on projects at the ranch, go for long drives in the truck, and maybe have picnics.
I want stolen kisses, hand-holding, and cuddles. They’re goals.
“Hey, lovebirds,” I call as I slide onto a stool.
“Hey, Cami,” Walker says as he saunters over. He’s eight years older than I am, and when he first moved to Bridger Falls, he was a young single dad. I was in high school, and he hired me to babysit for him. He’s a super nice guy, and I adore his daughter Mack, who is now fifteen.
I glance up at the specials written in chalk on the menu board. Today’s meal is meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Yum. “I’ll take the special if you’ve got any left.”
“Sure thing,” Walker says as he heads to the back.
Violet comes up and slides onto a stool next to me and whispers. “Please tell me you know about the reality show.”
I stare at her with wide eyes and say, “I can’t talk about it.”
Violet scoffs, “I know you know. Jenna told me. I know she told you. I need to talk about this with someone.”
“I need to talk about this with someone, too,” I groan.
“Okay, let’s ask Jenna,” Violet grins as she stands and heads down the hallway. “She’s in the back.”
“How convenient,” I mutter. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the bomb she dropped on me earlier and then left after arguing with Jack.
Violet comes back to the front. “She said it’s fine. Only you and I can talk about it, though. ”
Gotta love the sanctity of small towns.
“Okay, so what have you heard?” I ask.
She fills me in, and it’s basically what I know, minus Jack not knowing part, which I fill her in on.
“Are you upset about it?” she asks, looking concerned.
I sigh, “I don’t know. Yeah? No? What right do I have to be upset?”
“Every right,” Violet exclaims. “You and Jack are meant to be. You’re end game. He can’t find a wife!”
Jack and I are not endgame. I don’t know what we are, but that’s not it.
Walker walks up and sets down a plate in front of me, and I smile at him, “Thanks, Walker.”
He looks between me and Violet and says, “What are you two talking about?”
Violet whispers loudly to him, “Jenna’s show.”
Walker groans, “I lost her as a bartender over this show. She was my best one other than Cash.”
Violet swats at him with her hand playfully. “Excuse me! What about me?”
Walker grins at her. “You’re not my bartender anymore. You’re my fiancée.”
I smile, watching them, then point my fork at her. “You two are adorable.”
“I know,” she breathes as she stares at Walker lovingly.
“I’m...gonna go,” he says as he backs away slowly and disappears to the back.
Ollie saunters over. “Hey, sis.” He takes my fork and takes a bite of my meatloaf.
“You know you could get your own, right?” I ask playfully. Although he knows I’d share anything with him.
“And where would the fun be in that?” he asks, handing me back the fork. He glances over at the door, and his face drops as he murmurs, “Mom just walked in, and she’s headed our way.”
I drop my fork onto my plate. “You can have the rest. I’m not hungry anymore.” I start to stand and realize she’s standing right next to me now.
“I’m glad you’re both here. I have news.
Big news,” she says excitedly, out of breath.
My mom had me and my brother very young, and she’s only forty-eight.
She wears her long brown hair in wavy curls and has her makeup done every time I see her.
In fact, I have rarely ever seen her not dressed up and without make up.
She’s not a jeans, t-shirt, and boots kind of woman.
She’s always loved clothes, make up and shopping.
It’s just her thing. We’ve never had much in common.
I stand here and stare at her and wonder why I don’t have a connection to this woman. She feels like any other person in the bar. Not my mother, someone who is supposed to be close to me. She’s clueless when it comes to me and my life.
“What?” we both ask at the same time. Me, partly frozen in terror because usually when she would have big news like this, it was usually that my father was back in town and they’d be reconciling, which happened often.
He’d come back and everything would be oddly calm for two to three weeks.
Then he’d start to pick fights with everyone, empty out the bank accounts, steal her car, and leave.
By the time I was in fifth grade, we were on our fifth car.
I brace myself for whatever’s coming, and she says excitedly, “The bank sold the ranch. It’s a done deal, and it’s over. We can finally move on.”
My heart shatters into pieces in my chest. My stomach plummets, the breath in my lungs evaporating. I feel like I’ve been taken out at the knees. “What?”
She happily nods, not even reading my emotions, and says, “Isn’t this great? ”
Ollie watches me closely and asks the questions he knows I want to know since I’m frozen in place.
“Who bought it?” Ollie asks carefully. But there's something off in his tone. Like he already knows who bought it, he's just confirming.
“There was some loophole the bank found. And they handled it. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. We should celebrate,” she says, not even considering how upset I am.
I swallow and fight, the tears threatening to unleash. This can’t be over.
“Oh, and here’s the paperwork,” she says as she reaches into her purse and thrusts a folder into my arms. “Take care of this, will you, Cami?”
She turns, not even waiting for a response, and runs off to where a group of her friends are sitting. They all stand and hug her, congratulating her as if she has just won something.
Meanwhile, my heart aches in my chest. I look over at Ollie, and even he looks torn. And he hasn’t been as emotionally attached to the ranch as I have. But he knows how much this meant to me.
He reaches over and places his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”
“Why is she like this?” I ask, tears filling my eyes. “Heartless.”
“She doesn’t even care about us or our feelings.” I hold up the folder. “It means nothing to her. This was my dream.”
I reach into my pocket for some cash. I lay down enough plus a tip and swipe away the tears. I turn and can’t look at anyone as I walk out to my truck and get in the front seat. I set the paperwork down. Ollie follows me and climbs in next to me.
“What are you doing, Ollie?” I swipe away the tears and reach for the glove box for some napkins.
“I don’t think you should be driving like this,” he says as he looks at me worriedly. “Let me drive you home. "
“I’ll be fine,” I say calmly. “I’m giving myself a minute, then I just want to go home. I still have a lot of baking to do tonight.”
Then it dawns on me that I won’t even have a kitchen to bake in much longer. I don’t know what I’m going to do or how I’m going to continue to keep Steamy Sips going if I don't have a place to bake. I shake my head and lean back in my seat.
“I’m going to follow you home,” he says as he gets out of the truck. “I’ll help you bake tonight. Do chores, whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Ollie,” I whisper, grateful to not be alone. I buckle in and start my truck. “See you at the house.”
He nods and heads to his truck. Ollie’s always been the best little brother I could have ever asked for. We’re only a little over a year apart in age, so we’ve always been close. Even though he and Jack are best friends. They weren’t always best friends, though.
When we were kids, our parents forbade us from being friends with the Jessops. But once we got older, there wasn’t much our parents could do. Our grandparents always loved the Jessop kids. But my parents and grandparents always had issues with Jack Sr.
I get home and change into comfy clothes and head downstairs to bake. My heart isn’t even in it. I feel numb.
Ollie dries his hands and says, “The chores are done. What can I help with? Are you hungry? You didn’t eat your food.”
“I can’t eat,” I mumble, blinking through hot tears on my face. “I still have to go through these papers and see what we’re up against.”
“Okay, let’s get the baking started and then you can dig into that,” he offers.
We work side-by-side quietly, and I tell Ollie about the cookbook I’ve pitched to an editor. I told him about the beautiful pictures of the garden and the homemade recipes I wanted to share with the world.
“It can’t end here, Ollie. It can’t. I’m not done yet. I have so many dreams,” I say softly.
“It’s not over. Whatever happens, those are your ideas. You can still do anything that you want to do.”
“Why don’t you care about the ranch?” I ask, emotions filling me.
He slides a pan into the oven and turns to me. “This place just isn’t where my heart is. I know it’s where yours is, and that’s okay. But for me, this place holds memories that make me sad.”
“I’m sorry, Ol.”
“Yeah, me too,” he says wistfully.
When Ollie heads out to check on Mouse, I look around at all my fresh herbs hanging from the window.
I think of all the beautiful recipes I’ve created in this kitchen.
And my dreams for the future of creating a bed-and-breakfast, writing a farm-to-table cookbook, and turning this place into a somewhere families could enjoy a vacation and have beautiful experiences are now just dreams.
Sitting down to flip through the file Mom gave me, nothing in these papers makes any sense to me. A trust bought the ranch. I google the name, but there’s no information listed. It’s completely private.
And I’m officially screwed.