ON THE morning of departure for the farm, Kyle overslept. He hadn’t set an alarm because in every previous version of his family’s existence, his mom or dad would go around and wake up Kyle and Megan and Taylor early and make a whole big deal out of it. In this version, Kyle shuffled down the quiet hall and through the empty kitchen, then found his dad in the driveway, tossing a duffel bag and a small cooler into the truck.
“How come nobody woke me up? Where’s the rest of the stuff?”
“Once you load up anything you want to bring, I think we’re good to go.” His dad leaned into the truck cab and collected some empty soda cans and food wrappers.
“But . . .” Kyle noticed his mom’s car was gone. The garage was open and Taylor’s was parked inside.
“They already left.”
Separate cars? Separate cars and no wake-up and no one had prepared him? It wasn’t like he thought it would be the same as ever—stopping in Pacific Grove for a picnic, doing rest-stop jumping jacks with his sisters, playing each other music from their phones.
“This is the last summer at the farm,” Kyle said, watching his father carry garbage to the can in the garage. “Are we really going out like this, Dad?”
“Looks like it.”
The last few weeks of school had been a mix of better and worse than the couple of months leading up to it. Just having Taylor in the house and knowing what was up helped Kyle feel way less alone. They’d talked about telling their parents that she knew too, but then Taylor said, “Let’s put it in the vault. For now. Mom and Dad aren’t the only ones who can keep secrets.”
At first they shared a lot of glances and emails and analyzed stuff with each other and on their text thread with Megan. But then Megan said she didn’t want to hear about it anymore, and not long after that, Taylor confessed that she wished she didn’t know, too.
“Farm week is going to be ruined,” she’d said one night, when they finally did go to Cold Stone to use the gift card. “Maybe it is better to pretend.”
“We are, Taylor. That’s exactly what we’re doing.”
She looked down at her ice cream, running her plastic spoon around the edge and eating toward the middle, like she’d been doing for as long as Kyle could remember.
“I could try pretending to myself?”
“I tried that,” he’d said. “It doesn’t work that well, usually.”
School sucked, because school. Also he had to keep seeing Nadia and Mateo. They weren’t super couple-ish at school, but they were obviously close. And when Kyle heard they were going to junior prom together, he of course thought about how he and Nadia had talked about that. Talked about getting a hotel room, even though they’d already gone from longer and more complicated make-outs with less and less clothing to going all the way on New Year’s Eve, in Nadia’s room while her parents were out at a party. A hotel room would be different, though. It would mean getting to spend the whole night together. Opening his eyes in the morning and seeing her there, getting to hold her while the sun came up.
Maybe she did all that with Mateo on prom night. Maybe she didn’t. He stayed away from social media and any conversations around school about that night.
He’d finished strong with his mentoring gig with Coach Malone’s kids, putting the info about Jacob’s dad into some kind of vault within a vault in his mind. Pretending to himself, like Taylor said, which he could manage for a few hours a week. As long as he wasn’t at home comparing the past to the present. Malone gave Ito a good report, and Ito said Kyle could start next season with a clean slate, if he wanted.
But that would mean more Mateo.
The Mateo and Nadia situation was the one thing he hadn’t told Emily.
Every time he thought about it, he’d stop himself, worried he was one of those basic people preoccupied with romantic drama. And worried he’d get into talking about sex. Which he didn’t want to do with her, not so much because he was shy about it or she didn’t have a lot to say on the topic but, like, it was almost like his and Emily’s connection was too pure for that? Maybe that was dumb, or belittling to her in some way, or maybe he was just private and didn’t really want to talk about sex with anybody he wasn’t actually having it with. He wasn’t sure.
He’d been telling her everything else, though, and she’d been keeping him updated with Uncle Dale and Aunt Brenda’s issues. And last night she’d texted, Only one more sleep till I get to see my most favorite cousin! and it felt like the best thing she’d ever said to him. Or second best, after saying she trusted him.
Now he took a quick shower and finished packing, then jumped in the truck with his dad. When they were a few miles from home, his dad said, “Taylor and your mom just wanted some quality time together. The separate cars thing. And I need to have the pickup in case there’s a work emergency or anything I need to get back for.”
“Sure, Dad. Makes sense. Also the fact that you and Mom don’t want to be trapped in the same vehicle for five or six hours.”
“Also that.”
Did you leave yet? he asked Emily. Taylor and Mom will probably get there before us. Separate cars.
She replied, On the road now. My parents had a big fight because my mom bought a margarita machine to bring and it was like 200 bucks and took up all this room in the trunk but really they’re fighting about her drinking and just not saying it. And my dad has a cold and is being a baby about it. So now we’re listening to podcasts and no one is talking. She punctuated it with a thumbs-up.
Sorry but tbh I feel better not being the only one dealing with parental misconduct.
Also, I can’t wait to see you, he added.
She sent back a gif of Maria from The Sound of Music swirling around on a mountaintop.
Then he texted Megan for the fourth time since last night. ARE YOU COMING YES/NO. Her last update said she’d gotten the time off one job, but not the other. After that she went MIA. Don’t leave me and Taylor hanging, he added. Even if you can only come a couple days. We need you, is all I’m saying.
During the drive, Kyle endured the sense memories of the last time they’d been on this same drive. How one minute he’d been texting with Nadia, then the next minute his dad had dropped his four-word grenade.
Now his dad was on a call with Al Najarian, his business partner, on speakerphone. Annoying, but it killed some time. They were going through a punch list for a remodel and complaining about the client and then about some subcontractors.
“Just get that completion payment,” his dad said. “Do whatever you have to.”
When his dad was off the phone, Kyle asked, “Is Baker and Najarian okay?”
“It’s fine.”
“Really.”
“Kyle, don’t worry about it.”
“Why shouldn’t I worry? You keep saying don’t worry about money, don’t worry about you and Mom, it’s fine, you’re figuring it out. But it’s not fine and you’re not figuring it out, and I’m worrying. Worrying isn’t something you can just tell someone not to do. You do know that, right?”
His dad didn’t react.
Kyle scanned through the radio stations and couldn’t find anything he liked.
“Just turn it off,” his dad said.
“We’re going to drive in total silence?”
“Okay, then plug your phone in and put on your show tunes, but I don’t want to listen to three seconds of one song and then three seconds of a different song and three seconds—”
“Got it.” Kyle turned off the radio. They were only an hour into the trip. He sighed. He didn’t want to put on show tunes. Show tunes were private. Something for him and Emily. He sent her a check-in text and she replied with a picture of Uncle Dale asleep in the back seat of their car, clutching a fistful of tissues. There’s drool, she said.
They joked a little more, when what Kyle was really thinking was how there was this excitement at the pit of his stomach that within hours, they’d be seeing each other. The first time since Martie’s birthday. Since everything.
He texted Taylor. Thx for saying goodbye this morning and telling me wtf is going on
Taylor: I was surprised too and you were asleep!
welp, see you there I guess
They hit some road construction and slowed to a ten-miles-per-hour crawl.
“So,” his dad said. “Mom says your grades weren’t great this year.”
Kyle exhaled a laugh. Now they were going to make conversation. Okay. “They weren’t. But I brought them up and I think I did okay on finals.”
“Oh, okay. Good.”
They inched along. Kyle stared out the window at the road crew in their orange vests, talking on two-way radios.
“Got a girl?” his dad asked. “Since Nadia?”
“Dad. Could we not?”
They’d literally never talked about the breakup before. Or about his grades all year. Or, for that matter, baseball or his coaching or anything, stuff he and his dad would talk about if this year was normal at all. Yet Dad was getting info somehow, through dad osmosis. Indirect communication or no communication at all. Maybe that’s what his mom was sick of. Maybe her boyfriend could just come out and say stuff instead of circling and circling thoughts and feelings and opinions like a spooked deer.
The lanes opened back up, and his dad stepped on the gas.
When they finally made the turn at the first Nowhere Farm sign, Kyle’s nervous system zapped again and again. He thought about the last time, when Emily had been waiting for him on the swings. That time didn’t feel like this. Was he jittery about the job of hiding his parents’ situation from the family or about seeing Emily? It felt like . . . Emily.
Kyle, my dude, find some chill about Emily. He didn’t want to, like, burst into tears when he saw her or something.
They went down the long driveway, under a canopy of trees, passing the swing set—no Emily—and the kitchen garden. There were a few cars parked half on the gravel and half on the scrub, including his mom’s. Then there was the house and Grandma Baker coming out the front door, waving.
“This is the last time we’re gonna see that,” Kyle said, but not loud enough, because his dad was distracted by the sight of a little black dog running toward the truck and barking as they parked. “What the hell is that?”
Grandpa Baker came out of the house next, his cap pulled down low. Seeing Grandpa didn’t give Kyle quite the same sentimental feeling as seeing Grandma; it hit him in a more melancholy way how he seemed so much older than he had even in March.
They got out of the truck. Grandpa gave Kyle and his dad handshake-hugs. The dog jumped around. “Who’s this?” Kyle’s dad asked.
“This little doggo is a gift from Great-Aunt Gina’s convent. His name is Pico, and he’s been trained to look after old people.”
“Did you ask for a service dog, Dad? Everything been all right?”
“No, we didn’t ask,” Grandma said. She was carrying some bags from the car already, not giving them a chance to do it themselves. “You know Gina. She doesn’t wait to be asked. Now what’s this about you needing to go back early for work?” Grandma asked Kyle’s dad.
“I might. Not for sure.”
Kyle let the dog sniff his hand and knelt down to scratch his head. When he stood, he saw her.
She was coming down the trail from the olive grove with Taylor and Alex. Alex waved with both arms, but his eyes were on Emily. She had on cutoffs and an orange T-shirt, slow-walking with her fingers in her pockets and elbows out, looking exactly like herself.
Alex ran to Kyle and jumped all over him, and he let her. “Hey, Tigger.”
“I’m never going to see you again,” she wailed, her arms around his waist.
“Yeah you are. You’re gonna see me the same amount, just not here.”
He dragged her along and wished for a second he was her age, so he could show his happiness at seeing Emily with that much raw emotion. Just cling and smother and weep. Instead he matched Emily’s walking pace and went toward her. Alex finally let go. Kyle wanted to get Emily into a huge hug, but not in front of his sister or anyone else. Besides, she might not want that. He held up his hand for a high five. Emily gave him a funny look and slapped it.
“What’s up?” he said to her. She laughed, and they just looked at each other for a minute.
“How was it with Dad?” Taylor asked.
“Long and boring and silent. How about with Mom?”
“Not silent. But still boring and long. Did Megan text you?”
“Nope.”
“Is Megan coming?” Alex jumped up and down again.
“Maybe,” Kyle told her.
Aunt Brenda and Kyle’s mom were in the drive now, chatting in a polite way. Kyle went over; Aunt Brenda crushed him in a hug. “Jesus, Kyle, you’re more a man every time I see you.” She looked at Grandpa. “Sorry. I meant cheese-us.” To Kyle: “Uncle Dale would say hello if he weren’t in bed day-drinking Nyquil.”
“All right,” Grandma said, “now that everyone’s here, let’s sort out the rooms. Gina is on the main floor, as usual. I thought Taylor and Emily could take the attic. It will be hot up there, but there are some fans in the basement you could bring up to get the air moving.”
“Oh,” Kyle’s mom said, interrupting, “I was thinking Taylor and I could share. It was so good to have mother-daughter time in the car, I thought we could keep it going.”
Kyle caught Taylor’s eye; she put her hands to her cheeks and mouthed, Noooooo.
“That’s fine,” Kyle’s dad said.
“Mom,” Taylor said. “No.”
“It’ll be fun!”
“No, it won’t. Room with Dad.” She shot Kyle a sly look, then pulled Emily’s hand. “Let’s go get the fans.”
They went into the house and Grandpa trailed after them, giving specific instructions about where the fans were, and Kyle watched his dad wander back to his truck.
“Good,” Grandma said to Kyle’s mom. “So you and Jeff will be in Jeff’s old room. There’s a box of stuff on the bed I’d like him to go through. Whatever he doesn’t take we’re going to have to toss.”
“Well, tell Jeff,” Kyle’s mom said, pointing toward his dad.
“I can hear.”
Grandma said to Brenda, “And I’ve got six boxes for you.”
“I saw.”
“I mean it this time. We’re renting a Dumpster after camp is over, and it’s going to be toss, toss, toss, toss. We’re not taking you-all’s junk with us when we move.”
If she felt sad about the farm sale and leaving it all behind, she sure didn’t show it. Grandma never had been sentimental, though. Maybe the inability to express feelings and communicate about anything not superficial was in the Baker blood. Kyle’s dad was withdrawn, Aunt Brenda was always performing, and Uncle Mike just wanted to have fun and for everyone to get along.
“Where am I sleeping?” Alex asked. “Are me and Martie in the basement?”
“Martie wants to sleep at her own house, so you’ll have it all to yourself!”
Alex’s face fell. “I don’t want to be alone in the basement.”
“Well,” Grandma said, “if you and Kyle can get the big bean bag up to the attic, you might be able to squeeze in with Taylor and Emily.”
“Ask Emily first,” Aunt Brenda said.
“I have as much right as her to be in the attic.”
“Ask. Maybe she’d like to be alone in the basement.”
Then Taylor would be stuck alone with Alex, which Kyle knew wouldn’t be okay with her. “We could all sleep in the bunkhouse,” he said. “Like we used to.”
“Except you can’t,” Grandma said. “It’s half demolished, and Grandpa wants you to finish the job this week.”
“Uh, what do you mean, it’s half demolished?” Kyle asked.
“I mean it’s half demolished. Finishing it is the project. You didn’t think there’d be no project this year, did you?” Every summer the cousins had a project, arts and crafts when they were little, turning into real work like sealing the deck or doing fence repair when they were older.
“No, but . . .” The bunkhouse?
The place where he and the cousins would play every summer? And Emily would whisper all night? Where he told Nadia he loved her?
“What if I don’t want to tear down the bunkhouse?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah,” Alex added. “What if we don’t want to?”
“Too bad,” Grandma sad. “Grandpa’s the boss.”
Aunt Brenda patted Kyle on the back. “Gonna be an awesome farm week.”