Chapter 6
Jake
Squeals come from the other side of the pasture while I do my walk through the greenhouse.
I glance through the glass panel and see that somehow Henrietta has a lock of Cami’s hair in her mouth and she’s chomping away.
Cami pries open Henrietta’s mouth and makes her escape.
She runs away continuing to squeal like she’s a toddler again, the smile wide on her face.
Secretly, I wonder if this is why Amelia dropped Cami off today.
Amelia let me in on a little secret a few weeks ago that Cami has been asking about her dad a lot lately.
Which is something Amelia knew would happen one day, but it doesn’t hurt any less when it actually happens.
I guess when Amelia told her that he ran out, she thought that Cami would feel at least a small sense of closure and let it go.
Apparently, she reacted quite the opposite.
She’s become moody and sassy with her mom, visibly more sad and depressed than just the normal amount of teenage angst. My guess is that Amelia thought that Cami needed to be in a place where she could stop thinking. Where she could just be.
I turn my eyes back to the crops and realize that maybe that’s why I’m here as well.
There’s a ton of equipment and machinery and scientific ways to farm these days.
I tried to get dad to spend money years ago and some of the equipment to test the vitality of our crops but he insisted that the only way to tell if the crops were doing well was to get eye level with them and see the changes by walking through them daily.
I admit, I thought that was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard.
But my dad’s daily walks through the crops were when he seemed happiest. So I accompanied him through the crops and the more I did, the more I was able to see what he saw.
I could see the subtle differences between the plants that were vibrant, and the ones that were at the edge of the irrigation system.
When he died, I continued the walks through the crops in the fields and the greenhouse in the winter.
At first, it was just to feel closer to him.
I thought that maybe I’d end up buying the equipment but here I am, well over a decade later taking daily walks through the acres of crops when the weather is right, and through the greenhouse when it’s too cold.
Just like my dad, who I used to think was crazy.
“Hey Cami, you hungry?” I call out through the doorway of the greenhouse. In between a few more shrieks I hear what I think is a yes.
Inside the house, I watch Cami from the window as I take out the pizza dough I made yesterday and let rest in the fridge overnight.
Once it’s warming up on the counter I go down to the basement and gather up the tomato sauce and paste that I canned at the end of the harvest season last year.
By the time Cami officially escapes Henrietta, I’ve got the sauce simmering on the stove, adding in just a touch more oregano.
“Has Henrietta gotten bigger?” Cami asks.
Her hair is a mess. You can clearly see the spots where Henrietta kept grabbing it in her mouth, it’s all chunked together and slightly damp.
Her clothes are covered in dirt, hay, and potentially a little bit of chicken poop.
But when I look at her face? Pure joy. More joy than I’ve seen there in a long time.
“Shoot, yes she has. The vet told me last week that she’s a little overweight now. I meant to tell you not to give her any oats. You didn't, did you?”
Cami gives me a look that says she absolutely gave Henrietta oats as she shakes her head. Well, great. Now I’m going to have to figure out another way to entice Henrietta to the stanchion tomorrow morning. I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish that but that is tomorrow’s problem.
“Oh well,” I say. “Since neither your mom or my dad ever threw anything away I found some of your mom’s old clothes in the basement.
Now, they may not be stylish or the exact size but at least they’ll be free of chicken poop.
” I eye her up and down and Cami looks down at herself seemingly noticing how dirty she is for the first time.
Without a word she leaves the kitchen and heads to the guest bedroom. It used to be Amelia’s room and I swear sometimes when I see Cami head into that room I can see Amelia at the same age.
She comes back out wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a black t-shirt that hangs almost to the hem of the shorts. “Who… or what… is nin.”
I’m putting the pizza in the oven with my back away from her.
“Nin?” I ask. I have no idea what she’s talking about until I close the oven door and turn around to see her wearing an oversized shirt that does in fact have NIN written on it.
The shirt had been folded with the logo on the inside and I had almost completely forgotten about Amelia’s brief alternative phase during high school.
She had met this guy who was a senior while she was a sophomore and she transformed practically overnight.
Thankfully, neither the phase nor the relationship lasted long.
I’m not even sure if Amelia ever even listened to Nine Inch Nails.
“That’s a band and you should definitely ask your mom what her favorite song is,” I say.
“So, while we wait for the pizza to cook, how’s school lately?”
Cami shrugs her shoulders and opens up her phone. Cool, cool.
“Any boyfriends I should be aware of?” I tried to keep my tone nonchalant but I wasn’t trained on this parenting thing.
Her head doesn’t move but she glares up at me underneath her eyebrows.
“Did my mom tell you to ask me that? God, I knew she was up to something making me come over here.” She slams her phone down on the kitchen island and sits back in her barstool with her arms crossed over her chest. She looks so much like her mother that it’s scary.
I hold my hands up to show my innocence.
“Your mom didn’t tell me anything. Not even the fact that you were coming over so you and I are both equally surprised with this night together.
I’m just trying to play my part as the big strong scary uncle that will beat up anyone who messes with you. It’s in the contract.”
Her lips quiver for a second, and I think she’s holding back a smile but with her you literally never know. We hold eye contact for a minute and if I’m honest, I’m dying to look away but I’ll be damned if I look weak in front of a fifteen year old.
Something in the way I look must break something in her. She looks away first and lets out a champion sized sigh. “So, there is a boy,” she says quietly.
My spine straightens as I was not expecting her to actually answer. Panic flutters in my chest because I am vastly unprepared for the rest of this conversation. “Go on,” I say slowly.
“His name is Bernard,” she began.
Bernard doesn’t sound like someone to be worried about.
“But he goes by Garret, his middle name.”
“Hang on, Garret Johnson?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.
She hesitated some before finally saying, “Yeah.” She drug out the one syllable word as if at some point she could change course and say something else.
I swallow hard and debate how to continue this conversation.
Garret Johnson is the son of Dylan Johnson, the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.
I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting this Garret character but I’ve heard rumors around town that Garret is even worse than Dylan was.
Through gritted teeth I keep my composure and say, “Tell me more about him.”
Cami looks at me skeptically, debating on whether or not she should actually tell me more about him.
“Well, he’s hot for one thing.” It takes every ounce of will power in me not to roll my eyes.
I remind myself that she’s fifteen and that it shouldn’t be surprising that being hot is the first factor she chooses to share.
“And I really like him but he gives me mixed messages. One day he says he loves me and then the next he pretends I’m not there when he’s around his friends.
” She glances back down and fidgets with her phone.
She never quite picks it up though and it feels like a sign that I need to say something.
The palms of my hands begin to sweat as I realize I am the adult here, and the one who started the conversation.
Her face while she fidgets looks even younger than fifteen. Again, I’m reminded of how much she looks like Amelia and it hits me just what I need to say.
“You know what I think?” I wait for her shy eyes to meet mine.
“I think that he doesn’t deserve you.” She rolls her eyes but I continue before she could completely lose interest. “No, I mean it. You are the coolest fifteen year old I’ve ever met and if he can’t see that, and especially if he doesn’t want to show his friends that then he is not the one.
” The timer on the oven dings and I turn around letting it sink in with her.
“Uncle Jake, would you ever hide a girl from your friends?” She asks. Her voice is soft and unsure but the fact that she is thinking about what I said versus dismissing it makes me smile.
“I would never date a girl that I felt I couldn’t introduce to my friends.
When relationships are right you want everyone in your life to get along so that your friends and your relationships just mingle together.
So no, if I felt I couldn’t bring a girl around my friends either she isn’t the girl, or they aren’t the right friends. ”
Just as we both sit down with our piping hot margherita pizza my phone dings. It’s a text from Amelia.
Amelia: Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention earlier, if you could get some dirt on the new boyfriend I’d appreciate it. Thanks! Smile emoji.
Son of a bitch. Amelia played both of us I guess.