21. Lucy
21
LUCY
I struggle to fall asleep that night, thinking over the moment when I triggered Court to abruptly end our conversation at dinner.
I should have known that asking what makes him salty isn’t equivalent to him asking what made me vegetarian. But I suspect the answers are equally deep.
My family hurt me. They never saw me for who I was. My dad, in rejecting his mother, rejected me. Even marrying my mom was thumbing his nose at everything his parents had stood for. And that doesn’t even touch what he did to BeeBee’s farm.
It’s why I chose Court over them. Besides, Dad knows lots of lawyers in his business, and my greatest fear of all is that if they decide their grandbaby would be better off with them, they might find a way to take him.
Or her.
Lately, I’ve had dreams about a little girl. She likes to wear overalls and run barefoot in the grass. But when I place a crown of flowers on her head, the sun striking her light hair makes her look like a princess.
I wake up with a start. Something’s banging against the door.
There’s a snorting sound.
That’s not Court.
“Matilda?”
Eh heh heh.
It is Matilda!
I throw open the door.
Matilda is there, not wearing a diaper.
“That’s risky inside,” I say and lead her into my room. I snatch up the liner and diaper set that dried overnight in my bathroom and strap it on.
Then I sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her in my goat T-shirt and yoga shorts rolled below my belly. “What are you doing inside?” I ask her.
Court pauses in the open door, looking outrageously gorgeous in nothing but loose gray shorts and a plain white T-shirt. His hair is tousled, and his beard isn’t smoothed. “She looked too forlorn out there.”
I force myself not to stare at him. “Did she poop everywhere?”
“Only twice. Luckily, it’s all tile inside.”
It’s true. It’s easy to clean. “I’ll get it.”
“Already done.” He passes me a small plate of toast spread with butter. “I was going to do goat cheese, but then I read pregnant women can’t eat unpasteurized cheese.”
I take the plate. “You were reading up?”
He shrugs. “Casual curiosity.”
“Was it?” I take a bite of toast, lifting it high to keep Matilda out of it. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I’ve gobbled the entire piece.
“Do you eat your own goat cheese?” he asks. “Like you know it’s safe, so you eat it?”
“I did before I came to New York. Matilda wasn’t around other livestock, and it was reasonable that she didn’t have listeriosis, which is what they’re worried about. But since we traveled, and then she got penned with other goats, I’ve stopped.”
“Do they make safe goat cheese? Do you miss it?”
“It’s fine. I can wait another month.”
He takes the empty plate from me. “I’ll make more. There’s some cheddar in there. Hard cheese is okay, the docs say. You want that?”
I nod. “And some fruit?”
“You got it. Do you drink coffee, or is that bad? I didn’t see it listed specifically.”
“That’s a moderation thing, but I don’t drink it. I’m more about tea.”
“Tea. Do I have any tea?”
I laugh. “Yes, you have chamomile and Earl Grey in your pantry, on the right.”
“You already know this place better than I do.” He takes off down the hall.
I hold Matilda’s cheeks and kiss her nose. “What’s up with him? Is it opposite day? Salty becomes sweet?”
Matilda licks my chin in response. Only when I rub her ears do I realize there’s something tied around her neck.
It’s a ribbon. I pull on it, and it comes undone, the bow unlacing in my hands.
The ribbon slides through the partially sealed flap of an envelope. I pull it apart, and the ribbon falls free.
Matilda noses it, ready to chomp. I tug it away. “Let’s not eat that.”
I pull out two plastic passes. I flip one over.
FARM EXPO VIP
ENTRANCE TO ALL EXHIBITS AND PRIVATE SHOWINGS
What?
I try to jump to my feet, but my belly has other ideas. I wrestle myself to standing by using the bedpost.
I hurry to the kitchen, where Court is examining an electric teakettle.
“The expo?” I hold out the passes.
He glances over, then returns to the kettle. “I didn’t want you to miss it because of Caroline. Thought you could pick up some milking supplies. Maybe find some customers.”
My eyes smart, hard and sharp. I throw my arms around him. “Court!”
He pats my shoulder. “I rented another SUV with a big dog package in the back so Matilda could go along safely.”
I pull back. Big, fat tears drip down my face. “Really?”
“I don’t know what a goat cheese operation needs, but it seems like it’s more than what you have in your knapsack.”
I nod. “You don’t have to.”
“You’re here a month. Might as well make the most of Matilda’s assets.” He finds the power button. “Ah, there.” The kettle kicks on, and the water temperature on the digital display instantly climbs.
“Okay!” I haven’t been to any farming event since…
Since Grandma BeeBee was alive.
“Oh, and I called that Natural Outfitter place.” He says this casually, as if he’s not about to drop a big ol’ bombshell. “They said they would open an hour early for us so you could pick out some more clothes. I promised a Pretty Woman level spend for their trouble.”
“Court!”
“I’ll finish breakfast. Get yourself ready to go.”
I hurry back to my room. I’m going to the Expo! And shopping!
Matilda watches me as I rush to turn on the shower. I kiss her head. “We get to go to the Expo! In new clothes!”
And admittedly, as the water runs down my face, I end up shedding a lot more tears, for BeeBee, for me, and for this strange, salty man who can sometimes be the kindest person I know.