Short Term Relationships, page 23
In that one-day period, Kate’s emotions were all over the place. She was excited about the unknown. She was also scared about the unknown. There was so much potential and so much room for error in biting off such an enormous investment—never mind that she was going to have to learn how to run a ranch on the job. She’d already been watching videos about caring for horses, cleaning stables, what and when to feed various livestock. The University of YouTube would be going to be helpful, but even YouTube couldn’t know everything.
With only ten minutes until her plane boarded, she realized she wouldn’t know one way or the other until she touched down in Seattle. She’d just have to block it out, think of other things. But her mind couldn’t help but wander back to visions of waking to those rugged mountains. Having her coffee as the sun rose over the valley, one dog leaning against each leg. Riding Murphy or Frank or Miles through acres of pasture, a straw cowboy hat fit snugly on her head. Learning to drive a tractor and bale hay and all the romantic notions of ranch living she’d heard through country songs for her entire life.
She told herself that no matter what, it would work out how it was supposed to. If it were meant to be, it would be. But at that point, she was invested. She wanted it to work out how she wanted it to.
“What brought you to town?” a woman’s voice asked.
Not noticing that the woman was talking to her, Kate continued her daydream, unfazed.
“Excuse me,” the voice continued, its owner taking it upon herself to tap Kate’s forearm. “I was just curious. What brought you to town?”
“Oh!” Kate said, catching her breath from the surprise tap. “I didn’t realize you were talking to me. Just doing a little real estate shopping. And you?”
“Oh, I live here,” the voice said, revealing that it was attached to a thirty-something woman, shoulder-length ink-black hair straight, bangs cut neatly across her forehead, button-up western shirt pressed to perfection, flawless skin make-up-free. She sat with her hands folded over a leather bag in her lap, as if she were protecting its contents.
“Nice,” Kate smiled at the Cher look-a-like in the western wear. “I hope to someday soon.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep,” Kate nodded, a breathy sigh following her acknowledgement. Hope was a big word. So was soon.
“That’s great. I’m Jennifer. Maybe we’ll be neighbors. It sure is a great place to live. Montana, I mean. You house shoppin’ alone?”
As they talked, Kate became more appreciative of Jennifer—she was getting her mind off the ticking time clock and her offer’s soon-expiring deadline. Cher-a-like was in fact nothing like Cher, except for her young Cher hairstyle, which worked well on her slender face. As it happened, she was going to Seattle for a dressage show at the Washington State Fairgrounds. She usually drove her horse to shows herself, but this year, she’d hired a driver. Driving the horse trailer wiped her out, and she didn’t think she performed as well when she was tired, and her horse picked up on her lack of energy. She’d ridden dressage since she was fifteen, more than twenty years, she’d said. She’d been all over the west for competitions with her horse Henry, her number one man.
They talked all the way through the boarding process, only to find their seats were side-by-side. This was a happy accident and the time would fly by, or they’d run out of things to talk about, and Kate’s mind would drift back to the “what ifs” and what was going to happen when she checked her phone upon landing.
“I actually may need some advice,” Kate said as she stuffed her laptop bag under the seat in front of her. “Since you’re a horse expert.”
“Shoot,” Jennifer said.
“Oh, I don’t know what it is yet. If I get the ranch, it has three horses. I know nothing about horses, except what I learned from Mr. Ed as a kid and from three riding lessons when I was twelve. I thought I wanted a horse and begged my parents for one. Turns out they knew more than I thought. They made sure caring for the horse was part of the lessons, and you can guess how that all worked out.”
Jennifer laughed. Caring for a horse was no doubt more than the average pre-teen wanted to bite off. “Okay. Give me your phone.”
Kate complied.
“There. Now you have my number. When you get your ranch and can’t figure out something about your horses, call me. Also, my ex is a large animal vet over in Belgrade. You’re gonna need one of those. I can give you a referral.”
“Indeed,” Kate said, realizing her aisle-mate was right. What was she getting herself into? Maybe she hadn’t thought this through, the sudden gurgling in her stomach suggested. “What’s his name?”
“Cindy Pearson.”
“Oh!” Kate said. Her gaydar had complete failed her, yet again. At this point, it was questionable whether she even had one. She’d missed the mark on Christine, too.
“Oh, I thought—” Jennifer said, turning in her seat to meet Kate’s eyes.
Kate laughed. “You thought right.”
THIRTY-TWO
When the plane touched down, Kate nonchalantly took her phone out of airplane mode, keeping it close to her body so the flight attendants wouldn’t notice. They were still taxiing, but she couldn’t wait another minute more. Talking to Jennifer had only made her more anxious to find out. Was she soon to be a ranch owner? Was her annual Labor Day party going to double as a going away party, or it would it be just one more of the same, no one knowing she had been trying to fly the coop? A few days in Montana and she was already thinking in ranch metaphors.
Her lock screen always made her smile—it was a photo of her, Dallas, and Hunter at the top of Rattlesnake Ledge, both dogs’ tongues hanging out from a fast, fun hike. That lock screen preview showed she had sixteen messages—sixteen!
Certainly, one of them was from Sandy.
Her heart raced as she sped through the list—Liza asking when she’d be home, a handful of photos of the dogs from Christine—all sent separately—a work question. And then, there it was. A text from Sandy McGill, which didn’t have a preview. Still in stealth mode, Kate held the phone closer to her body and opened the message.
Welcome to Montana, Kate! You are 30 days away from owning your dream! The owners accepted your offer with no changes! They had been out of town and came home to your offer! I’ll send you the signed offer and next steps in email! –Sandy
Kate grabbed Jennifer’s hand as she read, Sandy’s excitement coming through the screen into her body. Sandy was an over-punctuator, but it only sold her excitement.
“I got the ranch!” Kate whispered in Jennifer’s direction as the plane reached its stop at the gate. Her eyes were still glued to that message, reading and re-reading it for confirmation. “I’m moving to Montana! Oh! Sorry, I—”
“That’s amazing, congratulations!” Jennifer said. “Why’re you sorry?”
“Oh, just, I’m sorry I grabbed your hand. I was so excited when I read the message.”
“That’s exciting! You know what? We need to celebrate! I’ll be in town all week—are you free one evening?”
“I—” Kate started, then hesitated, then started. “You’re right, we do. I need to go get my dogs tonight, but how about tomorrow night? I can give you some Seattle tips and maybe I could pick your brain about Bozeman?”
“It’s a date,” Jennifer said as she stood to retrieve that precious leather bag from the overhead bin. “You have my number.”
“Indeed, I do.”
As they stood waiting to be let off the plane, Kate wondered if she just made an actual date with the friendly stranger. Well, she wasn’t a stranger anymore. Though they’d met less than two hours before, she’d already shared such personal information with Jennifer—she’d been the first person she told she was moving to Montana.
Realizing the gravity of her new reality—she was moving to Montana—Kate worried. What would Liza do? How would she quit her job? Was it smart to quit her job? What would her mother say? What about Christine?
“Hey,” Kate said, as the line moved. “Thanks for listening today. You’re the first person I know in Montana!”
“I’m honored,” Jennifer said, a little smile spreading across her face, her hazel eyes appearing more towards green with the exposure to outside light. “And I’m glad you got the ranch, Kate Conrad. We need more like you in our part of the world.”
“Thanks, Jennifer—”
“Lawrence.”
“Lawrence?”
“Yeah, I know. I swear I had it first! By like five years!”
“Well, original Jennifer Lawrence, good luck in your show. Give Henry a pat for me.”
“Thanks. Good luck telling your roommate your news. I’d say give her a pat, too, but I think that might get lost in translation.”
l l l
Traffic was horrible from the airport to Christine’s place on Capitol Hill, but when was it not? Kate sat on I-5 North, stopping, going, and stopping some more before she reached the Madison Street exit and the home stretch to reclaiming her dogs. She didn’t like to leave them for such a long period, but based on the pictures Christine had sent, they didn’t miss her. They’d made themselves at home during their vacation, even cuddling up to Sadie a time or two. They were equal opportunity snugglers, it seemed.
Standing at Christine’s front door, under the cover of semi-darkness provided by the just-set sun—the days were getting shorter—Kate tried in vain to smooth her top—pulling on the hem, adjusting the sleeves—the wrinkles from an afternoon of sitting intent on staying around for the rest of the day. She’d chosen a linen shirt because it was comfortable in the warm afternoon air, but suitable for cooler temperatures as well. She didn’t realize the linen look would also be the “I slept in my clothes” look. It was a pointless endeavor, so she gave up and rang the doorbell.
“Hi,” Christine said from behind her mission-style front door, bare foot peeking just around the edge, Sadie barking energetically in front of it. “Come on in. Don’t mind her.”
“Thanks,” Kate said as she stepped into the large foyer, looking around for her Labs while she offered a limp hand to The Barker. “Hi, Sadie. Yes, you are a vicious guard dog . . . Boys! Let’s go home!”
“They were wonderful guests,” Christine said, the thunderous approach of eight paws from the back of the house getting closer. They were not vicious guard dogs. They hadn’t even budged when the doorbell rang.
Dallas and Hunter greeted their mom with enthusiasm, tails wagging, tongues sneaking through a kiss or two for good measure.
“I missed you, too,” Kate cooed from dog-level as she hugged their necks, one dog in each arm, yellow and black the perfect yin and yang. “Thanks for watching them so last minute.”
“Anytime! How about a glass of wine?”
There was something in her tone, but Kate couldn’t place it. Was it an “I don’t want to drink alone” offer of a glass of wine? Or maybe an “It’s been a while, let’s catch up” offer?
“I would love that,” Kate said, “It’s been a long day. How’ve you been?”
Following Christine into her kitchen as she relayed how she was—she’d had a lighter than normal day, she was planning to take some time off soon—Kate was reminded of how nice it was to have so much space. The old Craftsman was a mansion in its day, formal living room off the side of the foyer, massive kitchen at the back of the house leading to the yard. Intricate oak wainscoting and crown molding trimmed the main floor rooms, clear fir floors underfoot. By today’s standards, it was out of reach for most—it must’ve been considered a palace when it was built. The week of house shopping had her noticing details she wouldn’t have before; it had reignited her interest in the history of homes, the stories behind the current appearance.
“Red or white?” Christine asked, holding a bottle in each hand and breaking Kate’s daydream.
“Oh, red please, thanks.”
“So, what were you up to in Montana?”
“Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Kate said, taking the glass of wine that appeared in front of her hand. “But first, cheers.”
“Cheers,” Christine acknowledged, looking into Kate’s emerald eyes with a sincere smile—she believed in the tradition of making eye contact for toasts—and directing her to go sit on the plush leather couch in the living room. “It’ll be more comfortable in here,” she said, sinking into the cushion, Sadie almost immediately on her lap, Dallas and Hunter settling at their feet. “So, Montana?”
“Okay, this is going to sound a little dramatic, but—” Kate said, explaining that she’d been feeling out of sorts for some time. It was probably burnout. She’d been thinking about taking a sabbatical, of seeing what the world outside of Washington had to offer. She told of bad dates and bad workdays and a general feeling of malaise that wasn’t going away. “I figured a change of scenery might help.”
“So, you had a good vacation?”
“Yes, and—”
Kate hesitated. Why couldn’t she just spit it out? She bought a ranch. She was moving. This might be the last time they see each other, in fact.
“And?”
“I went to Montana to shop for a house and . . . I bought a ranch. I’m going to sell my place and move to Bozeman for a while. Well, for at least a while. Who really knows? I haven’t gotten beyond the first step—buying a ranch. But there are about one billion things to figure out, so that oughtta keep me busy for a long time. I know it sounds a little out there—”
Kate looked for clues in Christine’s face. She nodded as she listened. Her lips stayed still and neutral—no smiling, no frowning. Her eyes didn’t do that little crinkly thing around the edges. This woman had an incredible poker face.
“So—” Kate finished, not so much in conclusion, but with more of an opening for a reaction.
“Wow!” Christine said, “I didn’t expect that! Congratulations! I can’t wait to see it!”
“Thanks! You’ll really come visit?”
“Of course I will! I’m excited for you. Not as excited for me, I suppose, that you’re leaving. But it’s a quick flight.”
There she was again, with the mixed signals. What did that even mean, “it’s a quick flight”? It was true, but the way she said it made Kate think there was more to the story. A window of opportunity had opened, and if she wanted to answer the debate once and for all, now was the time. She needed to find out where she stood, or risk never finding out.
“Can I ask you something?” Kate asked, instead of just asking.
“Sure.” Christine shifted on the couch, tucking one leg under her body as she turned to face Kate, which startled Sadie in the process and sent her to the floor to snuggle Dallas and Hunter.
“This is going to seem out of the blue—or maybe not—I don’t know. It’s just, ever since we met, I’ve felt a connection with you. Sometimes I think you feel it, too. I wondered, am I imagining it? Or is there something here?” Kate asked, pointing to herself, then Christine, and back again.
Silence. Eye contact. Leg shifting. Dogs moving. And then, “There is absolutely something here. I’ve tried to fight it . . . But I have to admit, my heart sank just now, hearing that you’re moving.”
Kate squeezed the feminine hand that was now in hers. It was smaller; it fit. It was soft, but strong. She swore she felt Christine’s heart racing through her fingertips. Or was that her own? Had she heard what she thought she heard? What she’d hoped to hear for months?
They sat in silence under the warm yellow light of a single mission-style floor lamp at the edge of the couch, looking at each other—really looking at each other, eyes locked, hands locked—while the grandfather clock in the corner of the room tick-tick-ticked away the seconds.
What was there to say now?
Everything.
And nothing.
“I’m not sure,” Kate said, “but I think you just answered a question I’ve had all summer and I don’t know whether to be relieved or—”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence, because before she knew it, Christine was holding her face in her hands, pressing their lips together. Gently at first, and then with more intensity, more intention. Like water rushing over the edge of a cliff into a pool below, Kate’s body was flooded with a force of energy that stopped her thoughts, stopped the ticking in the corner, stopped everything but this kiss. The moment that she’d been dreaming of all summer was happening. She was the thirsty pool, being filled up with the force of the waterfall.
“Does that answer your question?” Christine asked, breath warm against Kate’s ear. They’d been this close once before, in the tent, but that had a much different outcome.
“It does,” Kate said, “but now I have many more.”
l l l
“Shhh,” she told her boys as she slid the key into the front door lock. She’d parked the Jeep on the street to not wake Liza with the sound of the garage door opener.
Her attempts at quiet were for naught. Dallas and Hunter bolted in the door when they saw Liza sitting on the couch, eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and staring at nothing in particular. Auntie Liza eating ice cream was rare, but they suspected they might benefit from the occasion.
“Hi,” Kate whispered. It was two a.m. and Liza was eating ice cream—that was . . . unusual. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Liza said, holding the spoon upside down near her mouth as if it were a microphone. “I really should ask if you’re okay. Look at you!”
Her previously wrinkled linen top was now downright rumpled after her cross-town rendezvous, and Kate once again began pulling on hems and trying to smooth the unsmoothable. “I can explain,” she smiled, running a hand through her hair in a weak attempt to style it, and sitting on the couch next to her roommate, who handed her the pint.
“Spill it,” Liza said, petting Hunter’s eager head, yellow snout furiously sniffing her free hand.
