Chapter 20
chapter
twenty
After too much turkey and two pieces of pumpkin pie, Farrah opened her laptop to fight off the effects of tryptophan. Or maybe she’d simply eaten so much she felt like she needed to sleep for days.
No matter what, she wanted to show her parents the agribusiness degree she’d researched at the University of Vermont. “It’s right here in Burlington,” she said, turning the computer toward them. Her mom sipped her coffee and peered at the screen.
“It goes right along with what I already do at the Bybee’s.
” She didn’t bother to call the farm Darren’s, though she should.
He hadn’t renamed it yet. Hadn’t put up a new sign.
She’d watched him toss two bags into the back of his truck a couple of days ago and rumble down the lane toward the highway.
He’d probably gone to either Sam’s or Logan’s for the holiday.
The farm had seemed empty without him there, though there were farmhands coming to take care of the horses as usual.
Farrah had come to Burlington on Tuesday night, and she was staying until Sunday. “I’ve already applied to the program,” she said. “And I think I’m going to move up here.”
Her dad’s eyebrows shot up and he switched his gaze from the screen to her face. “Really? You’d leave that yard you’ve cultivated?” He cocked his head to the side at her casual shrug. “Farrah, you love that yard.”
And she did. She couldn’t deny that. “It’s a thirty-seven minute drive from my house to the university.
If I live on the south side of town, I can get to work in fifteen minutes.
” Having the farm halfway between the two cities was a real plus, and Farrah hadn’t been as excited about anything as she was about starting college. At least not for a long time.
“The south side?” Her mom made a face. “Farrah, that’s not the best neighborhood.”
“There’s lot of new development,” Farrah said. She’d already looked at condos and townhomes going in near the historical museums and other old buildings that used to be the heart of Burlington. “I think the neighborhood is changing.”
So maybe she’d driven by it on her way into town. She almost felt giddy from the excitement of doing something with her life that felt right.
“How are you going to afford something new?” her mom asked. “And pay for college?”
Farrah sucked in a breath, the lie easily forming in her mind. She shoved it out, pushed hard against the desire to keep the secret she’d had for eighteen months. But she’d already told Darren, and that alone gave her strength.
“I, uh, actually, I have quite a bit of money from my time in LA.”
“You do?” her parents asked at the same time. They exchanged a glance and it was her dad who added, “I didn’t think you’d been cast in anything major.”
“I never was.” In fact, she’d hardly worked there, unless waitressing at a breakfast bar counted. “This money is from my…from Gary Lewis.” He wasn’t her dad. Her real dad was sitting in front of her, his mouth hanging partially open.
“What?” her mom asked.
“Gary Lewis was my biological father. He passed away last year, and he didn’t have a will or any family. I had my original birth certificate, and I’d made contact with him several times, and well, the lawyer said I got his estate.”
Her mom pushed away from the table and took a couple of steps back. Her hand fluttered near her throat. “Oh, I—”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Farrah stood and put both her hands on her mom’s shoulders. “Its just money. He wasn’t my dad.”
The resulting silence felt powerful and yet peaceful. Her dad joined them, and Farrah hugged her parents. “You guys are my mom and dad.” She smiled, finally feeling like she belonged to them and they belonged to her. “And I really think there’s a condo near the lake that has my name on it.”
Farrah rode the elevator up to Meredith’s condo, a stable of nerves in her stomach. She hadn’t attended bunko night since September. She may have been invited; she couldn’t really remember.
But she’d been feeling more and more like herself with every passing day. She’d been accepted into the agribusiness program at the University of Vermont, and she’d put down money on a condo on the top floor of a south-facing building. It had a lake-view.
Not only that, but Meagan was going to take a break from all the bunko next year to focus on being a mom to twins, and she’d offered her spot in the group to Farrah.
She’d accepted it, and the group was meeting tonight for a fun-filled dinner party with dice, and laughter, and planning for next year.
She’d seen Darren around the farm, carefully tending to the new maple trees he’d planted.
Because of her slump, she didn’t know exactly when he’d planted them, but by covertly bringing up the subject with Meagan, she’d learned that he’d put in the grove of thirty trees in mid-October.
Jim Bybee had helped, and she’d seen him coming round the farm from time to time.
When he came, he and Darren disappeared into the trees or they sat on the front porch and whittled. Farrah pretended not to know that Darren was only a few hundred yards from where she worked each day.
He never came into the boutique while she was there, but she knew he’d been there.
There was evidence of more firewood stacked neatly in the bin whenever it started to get low.
A trellis broke one afternoon, and she’d spent hours transferring strawberry plants to another rack.
The following morning, the trellis had been fixed.
She never mentioned anything to anyone about the needed repairs.
He simply paid attention and took care of things.
He’d always been that way. Attentive. Action-oriented.
She adored that about him, and she hoped he was getting enough sleep. With how much work it took to run a farm, he probably wasn’t. And that set her to worrying, which always made her realize how ridiculous she was being.
She was worried about a man she couldn’t talk to.
The elevator doors slid open, and a door stood ajar halfway down the hall. It was definitely Meredith’s apartment, because holiday music poured into the building and the scent of sugar and almond punch wafted into the air.
Meredith came through the door and saw Farrah. A smile formed on her face. “Hey, Farrah. Haven’t seen you in a couple of months.”
Farrah managed to return the grin. “Yeah, but I guess Rae isn’t feeling well tonight?”
Meredith shrugged though a vein of worry skated through her eyes.
“I guess not. She said she wants November next year. Her baby will be almost a year old by then, and she’s been baking up a storm, I guess.
” She reached for Farrah and slung her arm around her shoulders.
“Come on in. What month are you thinking of hosting?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Farrah said. Most women had busy times at work, or a husband with a schedule, or kids to deal with. She just had the boutique and her upcoming classes.
But that’s okay, she told herself. She wasn’t any less important because she didn’t have a busy job, a husband, or a family.
“May is fun,” Meredith said. “I did a Cinco de Mayo night a couple of years ago.”
“That does sound fun.” They moved into the apartment, where only a few of the girls waited. Farrah shrugged out of her coat and filled a plastic cup with Rae’s famous punch. She’d taken one delicious gulp when she remembered Rae wasn’t actually here.
“Hey, who made the punch?” she asked.
Meredith’s whole face lit up. “I got the recipe.”
Aria and Hazel gasped. Cheryl said, “You did not.”
“She swore her mother would never give it out.” Michelle looked into her cup like perhaps the punch was fake.
“She felt so bad about not being able to come that she told me.” Meredith grinned like she’d discovered gold. “And it’s so easy, you guys.”
“So are you going to tell us?”
“What? And have this punch at every picnic in town? No. No way.” Meredith shook her head. “First off, Rae would kill me, and second, this is a bunko night tradition. We can’t have the whole town drinking it.”
Farrah laughed with a couple of the other women. She drank her punch and put her name on the schedule to host in June next year. “Oh, I’m moving to Burlington,” she said. “Is that a problem? I can find somewhere to host here if it is.”
“Burlington?” Cheryl’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. “What are you doing in Burlington?”
“I’m going back to school.” A sense of pride inflated Farrah’s chest.
“Are you selling your house here?” Meredith asked.
“In the spring,” she said.
“I want to buy it,” she said quickly, glancing at the other girls. “Me and Denny have been talking about getting something without shared walls.”
“Really?” Farrah asked. “Well, I could sell it now, I guess. I just thought spring would be a better time.”
“What does Darren think of you moving to Burlington?” Aria batted her eyelashes and sipped her punch like she hadn’t just asked a loaded question.
“I’m not—we’re not dating anymore.”
“The whole town knows that,” Aria said, setting her cup on the counter. “But what does he think of it?”
“I don’t know.” Farrah glanced around, noting the sympathy in her friend’s eyes. “I don’t actually talk to him.”
“He owns the farm where you work,” Michelle said. “How do you avoid him?”
It was actually Darren who moved like a ninja around the farm. Farrah tried to find a reason not to tell these women anything. But she wanted them in her life, the same way she’d wanted to share all her secrets with Darren.
“I don’t know,” she said again. “He doesn’t come into the boutique while I’m there.”
“How do you get paid?” Aria asked.
“Direct deposit.”
“So you really don’t talk to him.” Aria wasn’t asking this time. She did seem sort of stunned though.
Farrah shook her head, her stomach starting to cramp from all the punch.
“But you will,” Michelle said. “When you’re ready to get back together with him.”
“Michelle,” Meredith warned.
“What? You don’t think they’ll get back together?
” She looked at Meredith with challenge and then switched her gaze to Cheryl.
“I’ve seen them together. Heck, we all have, right?
They love each other.” She drained the last of her punch, and Farrah wondered if hers wasn’t spiked with something stronger than almond extract. “Of course they’ll get back together.”
“I…I think he’s probably moved on,” Farrah said. The words made her chest feel too small to house her heart. “I don’t think he’ll take me back.”
“Why not?” Meredith asked, her curiosity open now.
The door opened and Audra and Meagan entered. Farrah thought maybe she’d be saved from answering, but Hazel waved them over and said, “Farrah’s telling us about Darren.”
“No, I—”
“He asked about you today,” Meagan said, cutting her off. She wore a glint of excitement in her eyes.
“What did he say?” Aria asked, as if Darren were her ex-boyfriend.
“He just wanted to know how you felt things were going in the boutique. I said you hadn’t mentioned anything one way or the other, and that I’d find out.”
Farrah didn’t like the weight of all the eyes that swiveled her way. “The boutique is fine.”
Audra rolled her eyes, and Farrah’s defenses shot up. “What? The boutique is fine. You’re there every day. Do I complain about anything?”
“Sure, the boutique is fine. You’re fine. Darren’s fine.” Audra set her purse down and reached for a cup. “But fine isn’t a great way to live.”
“That’s because you’re dating Sherwin,” Farrah said, cocking her own eyebrows.
The women rounded on Audra now. “You’re dating Sherwin?” Meagan practically screeched. “Sherwin Mayfair? Why didn’t I know this?”
A healthy blush crawled across Audra’s face. She looked at Farrah with murder and happiness in her eyes. “We—we’re not really dating.”
“I saw them kissing earlier this week,” Farrah said. “The thing about a greenhouse is there’s a lot of glass panels.” She laughed, along with a couple of the other women.
“Fine.” Audra lifted her chin. “I like Sherwin Mayfair, and we’re dating.”
Questions started, and she answered, and Farrah slipped to the back of the crowd, glad the spotlight was off her for a few minutes.
Meagan sidled over to her, her gaze still fixed on Audra. “You will go back to him, won’t you?”
“I don’t know, Meagan. I honestly don’t think he’ll take me back.” She hadn’t told anyone that she’d told Darren it wasn’t his turn to star in her life. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. No wonder he’d worn his agony in his eyes, his jaw, his tone.
“Oh, honey. He’s just waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me to what?”
“Waiting for you to admit that you’d rather be unhappy with him than happy with anything and anyone else.” She moved away, leaving her riddles in Farrah’s ears.
Unhappy with him…
Than happy with anyone else.
She was glad to be in the company of her friends tonight.
Her question about hosting hadn’t been answered, but no one had thrown her out yet.
She could rent the library or a room at the senior citizen center if she needed to.
Or she could use someone else’s house and set everything up, order food, all of it.
She didn’t have to live here to be friends with these women.
“Let’s get started!” Meredith called, and everyone headed over to the high table to get scorecards and pencils. Farrah joined them, her spirits lifting with the easy banter, the quick laughter, and the delicious Christmas cookies and dipped chocolates.
But phrases from that conversation wouldn’t leave her mind.
They love each other.
Of course they’ll get back together.
Farrah wanted to believe that Darren loved her. She was so close to liking herself that the idea was almost believable.
Almost.