Page 44 of Buried Roots

“Did that just happen?” I shoot Owen an amazed look.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself.” Owen watches on as they run and play.

“Sir Fig A Lot and Demon are BFFs.” My mouth hangs open.

“Well, theyareboth little assholes.“ I laugh, and Owen shrugs before he says, “So, what was your ex like? You know about mine.”

“Wow, you go right for the gizzard.”

“I’ve got nothing else to do while we eat.”

“It’s kinda humiliating.” I chew my lip.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Hmm. Thanks for the opt out.” I stare at the water, wondering what it would be like in the winter, imagining it’d look like glass. “Let’s see. When I met Seth, he was everything I thought I wanted—sensitive, smart, sweet. He was, or still is, a writer, so he’s artsy. And witty. Clever with words, understandably. We were together on and off for three years and spent a lot of time doing New York-y things like fancy dinners and off-Broadway shows. My life outside Seth was my work, and that was enough for me, or so I thought. I was so busy; I really didn’t know how to manage any more than a boyfriend and Natanya.”

“So, what happened?”

“One night we were having dinner on the patio of a restaurant below his chic Manhattan apartment, and it was a great night. The food was perfect. The wine was flowing. The holidays were approaching, and he was talking about his family’s annual ski trip. With a nice buzz, I didn’t think twice when I said, ‘I’ve never been skiing. I’m so excited.’” I napkin off my face, hesitating. I hate telling this part of the story. “I couldn’t believe it when he replied, ‘You’re not coming with me, babe.’”

“Ouch.”

“No kidding. It shocked me. I couldn’t believe I spent most of three years with somebody who didn’t even want to bring me home to meet his family. So, I ended things. For good.”

“That’s ugly.”

“It was—at first. But then, I was relieved not to be tied down. Work hit a rough patch, and I had to do everything to keep my head above water. I have employees to take care of, and somewhere along the way, I stopped missing him. When I got some distance from the relationship, I was glad it ended.” I sigh. “Being here—it’s just something I’ve needed for so long, and I didn’t even realize it.” Ugh—that’s enough about Seth, for now, so I look at my sandwich and say, “All right. This thing isn’t going to eat itself. Your turn. What happened with Dakota?”

Owen takes an inordinate amount of time chewing, and when I scold him with my eyes, he finally swallows. “Fine. Dakota and I dated from freshman year in high school through college, and I thought we were going to get married. I actually had a ring and was ready to propose. She told me not to because she wanted to go to culinary school in Paris while I went to vet school. Like you said with Seth, I wasn’t that sad. It was more like I could finally just be with myself. Then after I graduated vet school, I could live somewhere else andbesomething else for a while. I’d spent so much time taking care of my family, the last thing I wanted to do was start my own.”

“That makes sense.”

“Then I heard Dakota started dating Brody, and I thought they were going to get married. I was actually happy for her.” His face puzzles. “But then they didn’t, and I’m not really sure what happened.”

I think about what Dakota said—that it was because she’d never gotten over Owen, but it’s not my place to share something she’d told me in confidence. I take a mint out of its case before holding out the can. “If you want to find out, I bet Mary Louise knows.”

He takes one, grinning. “Thanks. And I’ll take that bet and raise you, double.” His smile falls away as he studies me, like he wants to say something else. Then he lets out a long sigh. “I’m ready now. For marriage. For kids. All of it.”

Those all too familiar tingles reappear, his hint not lost on me. Am I ready for all that? I think so, but I’m not prepared to verbalize it. Instead, I say, “You’ll be amazing with kids. You’re already so great with your sisters, especially Trinity. You know that, right?”

“Thanks. Trin’s awesome.”

When we finish our sandwiches and pack everything up, I take his hand and say, “Now, let’s dig through the barn loft.”

We step inside, and out of habit, I check on the goats, making sure they’ve got everything they need, and that no one looks sick or injured. All is well, but Darling seems glad to see Sir Fig A Lot.

“Hey, Ms. Dawson.”

I turn to see Huck, a farmhand and Mary Louise’s son, stepping inside the barn. “You’re here working late.”

He’s tall and lanky and honestly, looks nothing like Mary Louise. Maybe he takes after Bill? He runs a hand through his brown wavy hair when he says, “Yeah, I need to tell you—we’ve got a few stems showing signs of leaf rust, but I know an organic fungicide that works wonders on it. I wanted to make sure you’re okay with me using it.”

I look at Owen. “What do you think?”

Owen takes the barley in his hands and rubs it. “Yup. That’s leaf rust. Great catch, Huck.”

“Thanks, Dr. Brooks.”

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