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Stuffing my feet hastily into my Converse shoes, I head out the back door, aiming for a break in the trees.
I put the kitchen far behind me, my parents behind me. I try to breathe in, to appreciate the nature around me. It's a beautiful place, I remind myself. Nature is soothing, dammit. Soothe me!
I don't know how long I wander around, but eventually I find a fallen tree. It's all smooth from the sun and the rain, silvery, almost like stone. I run my palm against it, feeling the silky texture. In one end, the undergrowth is dark with tiny black growths. The blueberries.
Dad's right, these won’t be ready for another month or so, maybe two. I hear a twig snap behind me.
My dad gives me a half salute as he marches over the path, his walking stick in one hand.
“I swear I wasn't following you,” he explains. “It's just a coincidence.”
“Whatever, it's fine,” I sigh, leaning heavily against the fallen tree. I check around my feet to make sure I’m not standing in poison ivy or anything.
“Look, Vanessa… the white Buffalo is a pretty rare opportunity for us,” he says in a low voice. “Your mom's been trying to arrange this for a long time. A new calf is hugely exciting. You're gonna love it.”
I just shake my head, biting my lips together. I don't know what to say to him.
“Or you could stay at grandma's house, like we said,” he continues mildly, repeating himself with an annoying calmness. “You know. For school.”
I inhale deeply. I really need to tell them.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” comes another voice. Stan steps into a shaft of light off to the side, a basket in his hand.
My dad blinks in surprise. “Oh, hello there… You must be Stan. I'm Earl. Sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet before.”
Stan strides forward a few steps, sticking out his hand to shake my father's hand. I watch how their hands clasp, how it is such a simple gesture of masculinity, like a pact.
“Well, we talked on the phone, right? How's the house?”
My dad grimaces, brushing his hair back with his hand. “Actually it’s great but… did Charlie not tell you? We have to be moving on sooner than expected.”
Stan rocks back slightly, then crosses his arms over his wide, muscular chest.
“Did this just happen? I didn’t get a chance to talk to Charlie today. Is something wrong?”
He cuts his eyes toward me for a split second, then back to my dad.
“No, no. Nothing is wrong. We just got an assignment in Wyoming.”
“An assignment in Wyoming,” Stan repeats, pursing his lips thoughtfully.
“Yeah, we were just discussing it…” my dad continues.
Stan looks around, still processing. “Oh. Yes, well. I was just checking on the blueberries. I wasn't trying to interrupt, um, I mean…”
He looks up at me, his eyes dark and intense. I shake my head tightly.
“I'd like to rent the house,” I blurt out. “Myself. Alone. Can we talk about that?”
“Vanessa!” my dad objects.
“Are you sure about that?” Stan says slowly.
“I'm sure,” I insist.
“She's not,” my dad barks, exasperated in a way I don't think I've ever seen him. “She's a student. She's broke, for Pete's sake. She's not going to be able to rent a house on her own.”
“I'm not a student,” I say.
