Chapter 11 #3
‘And my health insurance is terrible,’ added Zoey. ‘Which is my main disincentive against living perilously. Although this honey is good enough that I just might risk it all.’
Nick took the knife and made himself a slice of honeyed bread. ‘You should consider opening a shop this side of the Columbia River – maybe in Vancouver. We’ve got the mushrooms and honey. Plus, no state tax.’
‘Ooh, that sweetens the deal.’ Zoey dabbed a crust in some of the spilled honey, then sank back in her chair, enjoying the warm summer evening.
Stars sprinkled the patient dusk, which was still forthcoming – the days were so long this time of year.
Cicadas shrilled, lending a tremble to the air. ‘This place is beautiful.’
A look of delight flashed over Nick’s face, as though he’d been waiting for Zoey to see what he saw in the farm. As though he’d brought her here not just for dinner, but to share something with her. Something that was special to him, and which he hoped would be special to her as well.
Zoey felt her cheeks flush, although hopefully the tint of the setting sun hid the worst of it.
‘Do you want to check out the rest of the property while there’s still light?’ asked Nick, stacking their plates and popping the lid back on the honey. ‘There’s a bit at the crest I think you’ll especially like.’
‘Is it where the mushrooms are at their densest?’ guessed Zoey.
‘Sort of. There’s a decent view of where the cordyceps grow wild. Although I think the greenhouse definitely has those numbers beaten.’
The greenhouse had been impressive.
‘We should drive, though. Just so we’re not wandering around in the dark.’
‘Can I? Drive, I mean,’ blurted Zoey. She’d been wanting to get behind the wheel of the old truck ever since she’d first seen it.
She rarely got the chance to drive in Portland – which wasn’t so bad, because traffic was criminal two hours either side of peak hour, and between her bicycle and the MAX she could pretty much get anywhere.
But Nick’s glossy old truck seemed so right out here.
‘You have a licence, right?’ he called from the kitchen, where he was washing up.
‘I have a fake ID.’ Zoey grabbed a tea towel and started drying off their plates, enjoying how the drifting evening light caught at the sunflower-toned ceramic. ‘I got it when they stopped carding me. I hope they feel guilty each and every time I flash it.’
‘Wow, am I allowed to call you feisty? Because that’s some feisty stuff.’
‘You can call me anything you want. Even Kaila Bowen, which is the name on my fake ID.’
Slinging a tea towel over his shoulder, Nick tossed her the keys, which were weighted by a Swiss army knife, a retro mushroom key charm and a fire-hydrant-shaped tag with the name Lucy stamped into it.
‘Lucy came before Alice,’ said Nick, when he saw Zoey looking at it. (Nonchalantly, as though she weren’t shrieking internally at the fact that she’d actually caught the keys without the slightest fumble.) ‘She was also the best girl. An Aussie cattle dog as well, but red.’
‘Romero is as close as I’ve ever got to a pet,’ Zoey admitted, as they headed back outside.
Although Kit had owned a guinea pig called Frodo. Had he counted as Zoey’s by extension? Not really. She and Kit had never even moved in together, not in a way that counted, anyway. He was always away for work. If you could call your other girlfriend in Colorado work.
‘No pets, ever? You really do walk alone.’ Nick stroked Alice’s head as Zoey started the truck, squeaking slightly as the engine roared to life. Somewhere far off, a coyote added its voice to the sound.
‘It’s not … on purpose,’ she said, as she awkwardly shifted the vehicle into gear. It had been years since she’d driven stick. ‘Things have just worked out that way. People leave. People disappoint you.’
‘Well, I think we know who is the Toad in this relationship,’ Nick said, pointing to the Frog and Toad charm that dangled from the rear-view mirror.
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ said Zoey haughtily, as she steered the truck slowly away from the house and towards the fields.
‘Well, there’s no Frog without Toad. Imagine a picnic for one.’
A picnic for one sounded delightful, thought Zoey.
But a picnic with Nick … actually sounded quite nice as well.
Especially if he cooked. And brought some of his explosive honey.
And bug spray, because entire clouds of bugs were bursting up from the daisy fields right now. The local bats were feasting.
Nick directed her on a slow loop around the property.
Thankfully, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to successfully shift out of first gear.
The truck bumped along, cruising between massive trees and around shrubby thickets.
At one point they reached a strange section of underbrush that veritably teemed with orange mushrooms. Rocky formations were angled about them, and the whole area seemed scorched.
‘Wait, those are the ones from my smoothies, right?’ Zoey squinted, turning on the truck’s high beams after some fiddling around trying to figure out which toggle did what.
‘That’s them,’ agreed Nick. ‘I haven’t found the exact type growing anywhere else around here, and believe me, I’ve done my fair share of foraging.’
‘And that mark’s from the lightning strike?’ Zoey had never seen anything like it.
‘We got struck not long after I moved in. Twice, actually. I thought it was Bozo with his Tannerite, but it was a stray bolt from a storm way off. I’m just glad Alice and I were inside, or you and I might not be having this conversation right now.’
Alice grunted in agreement.
‘Anyway, the lightning must have affected the soil in some way, because a few weeks back, it suddenly looked like that. Mushrooms everywhere.’
‘No wonder people want to do foraging tours here,’ said Zoey, as the engine idled. ‘I know I would.’
‘The bachelorette parties are all about it, apparently.’
A hot mushroom farmer did sound more appealing than a stranger breaking down your door and pretending to arrest you to the tune of ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’.
‘There will be no mushroom-farmer striptease,’ clarified Nick, who’d apparently read her mind. Or perhaps her raised eyebrow.
‘Well, I was about to invite myself along until you said that.’
‘You’re welcome to, when this place is ready for it. But I’m not quite there in terms of amenities. Or even a proper fence.’ Nick directed Zoey to take the truck up a rocky trail.
‘Can this little truck handle that?’ Zoey grimaced as she pressed the accelerator. The truck grumbled, but made its way up the trail.
‘Look at her go,’ said Nick approvingly. ‘She can handle most things, as long as you’re not silly and get bogged on your own property.’
Zoey scoffed. As if that was going to happen in the height of summer. The Pacific Northwest might be renowned for its rainfall, but summers were strangely dry and hot.
‘Here we go,’ said Nick, as the truck crested the hill, wheels spinning on the loose rocks. ‘Can she do it? I believe in her. Even if I’m holding on very tightly to my seat right now.’
Zoey’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
The truck roared, then hurtled up over the crest of the hill, stopping on the flat area at the top.
‘Oh shit, we actually did it,’ said Zoey, putting the truck into park. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her pulse was whooshing like a river during the snow melt.
Nick leaned over and punched the horn, sending napping doves up into the sky.
‘C’mon.’ Opening his door, he reached for Zoey’s hand, easily sliding her across the vinyl bench seat and out the passenger-side door.
‘Wow, you are lucky that it’s not too hot out, or I would’ve left half my skin on your seat just now.’
‘That is lucky, because I quite like your skin on your body where it belongs.’
Zoey chuckled. ‘I’m glad you didn’t drag me out to a farm so that you could flay me and turn me into a piece of furniture.’
Nick scrunched up his face. ‘Ugh, human skin for furniture? Uncomfortable. Now human skin for books …’
‘Okay, we are ending this conversation right here.’ Zoey put her hands on his chest, as though to shut him up. But really she just wanted to kiss him. Because this evening had been perfect.
And the views at their feet! The huge patches of pink and purple phlox that made a chequerboard of the hill.
The endless rolling forest lit by the occasional set of headlights or a warm porch light.
The nodding tops of the uncannily tall fir trees that reached well above the rest of the forest, which Nick had told her had burnt in a fire in 1902.
The dark twisting sinew of a river that ribboned through it all.
‘Can I kiss you?’ asked Nick, dipping his face to hers.
Apparently Zoey’s eyes said it all. Their lips met, and a Zoey from another time might have said that she was transported.
But not this time, because she didn’t want to be.
She wanted to be right here, in this particular moment, with this particular man, with his long-lashed eyes and his gentle hands, and his warm, kind way of moving through the world.
He made her feel alive, alight, like she wanted to slow the entire world down and see every sight, hear every sound, experience every feeling. But not alone. With him.
When they broke apart, Nick looped an arm around her waist, the way he’d got in the habit of doing, slipping his hand into her skirt pocket.
‘Careful, that’s where I keep my used gum,’ she warned.
‘I thought you were going to say carnivorous plant, so it could be worse.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ said Zoey, drinking in the impossibly green landscape.
They sat for a bit, perching on one of the larger stones at the top of the hill and tossing a stick for Alice to fetch. Alice happily complied, racing back and forth with her feet scrabbling and tail wagging like a flag.
When at last Alice flopped down on her belly, panting, Nick stood up, reaching out a hand for Zoey.