How cool that my kid just spent the last half hour chasing grasshoppers around the yard? It’s something we most certainly would never have the opportunity to do in L.A.
Sepp carries the platter of watermelon rinds inside and continues into the kitchen. Outside in the grass, Everett and Logan are playing catch, the ball whizzing past the windows. I don’t know if it’s seeing him laughing and carefree with his son or the way he fills out something as ordinary as a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, but it takes a surprising amount of discipline to keep moving toward the kitchen so I can do something useful.
As I pass by my purse on the couch, there’s a soft glow from inside—my phone. I must not have heard it ringing over the chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen. When I check the screen, it’s an unknown caller, but the area code is local.
“Hello?”
“Is this Vivian?” The caller’s voice is warm, confident.
“Who’s calling?”
“Professor Milankovitch, from the college. You applied for the data entry position?”
“Oh, yes. Hi.”
The patio door flies open, startling me into action. I head down the hallway.
“Vivian?” Everett calls out, concern in his voice.
I cover the speaker. “Be right back!” I call out over my shoulder.
“Is this a bad time?” Professor Milankovitch asks.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Great. I can give you a little more info about the job, if you’re still interested?”
Talk about luck. And timing. “I’m still interested.”
The professor launches into a series of details. He does something called cosmogenic nuclide dating of rocks exposed on the earth’s surface. There’s a long process to extract the isotopes, and then the results get processed by a mass spectrometer. I have to scrunch my eyes shut to concentrate. I’ve only taken one geology class, back my freshman year of college, but this is more like statistics.
“One last thing, and I hope it’s not a deal breaker,” he says. “Because of how the grant is structured, I would need to pay you in cash. Will that work?”
“That works great,” I say.
“Let’s do a small data set first. If we find it’s a good fit, we can entertain the idea of you taking on more.” His tone carries even more warmth now. “I just need your email address and then I can send you the files.”
I recite my Gmail address.
“Got it. Thank you so much,” he says, gratitude clear in his tone. “Look for an email tomorrow sometime.”
“Thank you,” I say.
The living room is empty when I return so I follow the voices to the dining room where everyone is just sitting down at the table.
“Mom!” Mateo says, lifting the bird-shaped porcelain saltshaker from the middle of the table as he settles into his chair. “It’s a grouse!”
“Is it?” I look to June for confirmation. How would Matty know what a grouse looks like?
“That’s right,” June says with a smile, taking a seat at the end of the oval table. Across from me, Sepp, Logan and a young woman with light blonde hair and June’s warm hazel eyes are settling into their seats. Behind them, through the two giant windows, the soft green foothills rise to the sharp spires and jagged ridges of the Bitterroots.
“Hi, I’m Edie,” the young woman says, reaching across the table.
“Great to meet you.” I give her hand a soft squeeze, and she smiles. I slip into the empty chair between Mateo and Everett.
From the head of the table, Nelson raises an eyebrow as he tucks his napkin onto his lap. “Anyone feeling particularly thankful?”
“I’ll say grace,” Sepp says. It’s clear this is a ritual they’ve practiced a thousand times because they all immediately clasp hands.