Page 60 of Christmas at the Ranch
For the second time that day, I see my mother’s eyes shining with tears. She looks down at the check for a long time, then tucks it back into her purse.
“I am hungry,” she says. “Lunch would be really nice.”
We sit by the window, looking out at Evergreen’s snowy Main Street. Gill brings us his pan-fried trout and parsnip frites, and my mother declares it some of the best food she has ever eaten.
“I wonder if he does catering.” But then she seems to remember herself, and who she is now.
“Just enjoy the moment, Mom,” I offer, and she smiles and takes another bite.
We eat in silence. It’s companionable. Speakers above our heads play “Silver Bells,” then Anne Murray’s version of “Winter Wonderland.”
“I love this song,” my mother murmurs. Another surprise. After a while, my mother puts down her fork and looks across the table at me. “Don’t you think there’s something you need to go deal with yourself?”
I frown. “What do you mean, exactly? Work? I’m pretty much done for the day.”
“I saw that boy climbing out your window. Or man, I should say. You two aren’t kids anymore, are you?”
I start to blush immediately. “You saw him.”
“I didn’t want to embarrass you. So, you two are still carrying on?”
“Mom, are you judging? Because I know you didn’t approve of him back then.”
Her face falls. “I know. God, I’ve been awful. But, Emory, you’rehere.That means something, right? I can see that you love this town. And even after just a few hours, I get it. I see why you love it here. But it’s not just that. It’s alsohim. And I very clearly interrupted something. Do you still care about him the way you did?”
In the past, I would have hidden my true feelings from her. But in the past, she never would have asked.
“I do,” I say. “And yeah, we were sort of in the middle of a…conversation.” My face feels like it’s on actual fire.
“One I imagine you want to finish,” she says. “Here, let me settle up with Gill. He has to at least let me pay for lunch. I’ll meet you back at your apartment later?”
I stand. “Sounds good, Mom. Thanks.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand, and the maternal gesture feels strange but also like the beginning of something between us. As if it might somehow be possible for us to make up for lost time.
“I love you, sweetheart,” she says.
“I love you, too, Mom,” I say.
Then I go outside and call Frank the taxi driver to take me out to Wilder’s.
Twenty-Nine
The drive to Wilder Ranch seems to take forever. I’m torn between being excited to see Tate again after what happened between us in the apartment, and terrified. Should I really be coming out here? What if he doesn’t want to see me right now? A few times, I almost tell Frank to turn around and take me back to town.
But what do I have to lose? And if my mother showing up at my apartment with a check is enough to send him running away from me again, this time forever, then I need to know that sooner rather than later.
The taxi turns down the road beside the lake that leads past the inn and toward the ranch. It’s mid-afternoon now, and the sunlight is streaming through the snow-covered trees in that pretty way it does, waves of light rippling through the hardwoods.
We’re at Wilder’s. I get out of the car and see Charlie bringing horses into the paddock closest to the driveway.
“Hello there, Emory,” he says with a smile as he closes the gate and walks toward me. “But I imagine it’s not me you’re here to see.”
All I can do is nod. “Is Tate around?”
“He’s in the south barn,” Charlie says. “You’ll find him there. See you around, kiddo.”
And then he’s gone and I’m heading toward the south barn, not quite sure what I’m going to say when I see Tate.
I push open the door just as Tate comes out of a stall. He stops walking.
