“Well, how’d the lessons go?”
“Excellent. What did you do today?”
I smiled really big. “Shoveled shit.”
“How was that?”
“Pretty shitty.” We both laughed but she looked down, almost as if she were too embarrassed to really let it out. “I also got to know Caleb a little better.”
“I’m sorry,” she said seriously.
“Why don’t you two get along?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t like me . . . ,” her voice trailed off. She looked away and her mood changed.
“Why don’t you think he likes you?”
“Well, one night . . . he tried . . .” She took a breath through her nose and looked up to the barn ceiling. “One night he tried to kiss me. I don’t know why. I didn’t send him mixed signals, I swear.”
“I believe you.” And I did believe her. She didn’t give anyone any signals, good or bad; she rarely looked up from her feet. “Keep going.”
“He caught me on the steps, just as I was coming down and he was going up to the main house. He grabbed my hips and leaned in. I slapped him.”
“What did he do?”
“He called me a bad word and said I was the reason for, um . . . for the stuff that’s happened in my life.”
“Nothing is your fault. I know what happened.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does. That fucking oaf has no right to treat you that way.” I looked up pensively. “Just wondering, what word did he call you?”
“The c-word.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Even as I said it, I couldn’t believe my reaction. Apparently there’s something in the Montana water that instantly transforms an agnostic, Starbucks-loving, vegetarian pacifist into a God-and-country-loving protector of all women and cattle.
She laughed through her nose. “You would be wasting your time.”
It got quiet for several moments as we faced each other in the barn. The atmosphere was heady. I watched her eyes dance around my face and then remain fixed on my lips. Part of me wanted to lean in and kiss her, but she made no motion toward me—and frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to get slapped.
“Honestly, Ava, I don’t think it’s that Caleb doesn’t like you. It’s the exact opposite. He probably likes you a lot.” I suddenly sounded very pragmatic, as if I were speaking to a room of college students. “My bet was that he felt rejected, and because he has a small penis he felt the need to make you feel bad about yourself.”
She smiled. Her look was endearing, almost like gratitude. “Thank you. That was a very interesting explanation of what might have happened that day on the stairs. Still, everyone here knows what happened to me. It’s hard not to think that they blame me for Jake.” I could tell it pained her to say his name.
“That’s not true.” I moved toward her to close the gap but she shook her head, stopping me. “You shouldn’t get close to me.”
I squinted. “Physically close?”
“No, you just shouldn’t want to know me. Jake was my husband. You know that, right?” Her eyes filled with tears. “My husband, Jake, killed himself because I couldn’t love him right. I couldn’t make him want to live.”
“Like I said, I know the story, Ava, but you’ve got it wrong. Just let me hold your hand. It’s easier this way.” I reached out and took her hand and held it as we stood several feet apart from each other. Her palm was cold, small, and calloused. There was a bit of dirt under her nails but the skin on her outer hand was smooth.
“It’s easier to talk when there’s not that uncomfortable space between us.”
“Your hand is smooth,” we both said at the same time.
“Doctor hands are always smooth because we have to exfoliate so much.” I smiled and she laughed a high-pitch, fluttering fairylike sound. It made my heart skip a beat.
“Exfoliate. That’s funny. You’re funny, Nate.”
“No one has ever told me that.”
“That’s kind of sad. I feel like I’ve smiled and laughed more around you than anyone else in years.”
Both of our expressions turned serious again. As I held her hand in mine, I thought I should try and really talk to her.
“Where is your family?”
“Not around. My father is dead.” She swallowed. “My mom went back to Spain. My brother lives in New York. And I’m here, where I belong, in some kind of hell.”
“Stop,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Don’t say that.”
“That’s how I feel.”
“Well, it’s beautiful here now, during the summer.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“At first the days melted into each other. After Jake’s accident, I would wake up and think hard about what happened the day before but all of my memories were cloudy, even the recent ones. I couldn’t get over it, and then when I thought I was finally able to accept it, that Jake would be paralyzed forever, he killed himself. After that it wasn’t just days anymore—it was weeks, melting together like my life was in fast-forward. But I’m only twenty-four.”
I wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m glad you’re talking to me about this. Maybe we can hang out tonight, after dinner?”