APPARENTLY BIRDS thought four a.m. counted as dawn, and Kyle woke up to the song of a robin. Pretty, but loud.
“I think that bird only got like three hours of sleep,” Emily muttered. “I have to pee.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t really want to pee in the woods. Let’s go down to the house.”
“I didn’t bring a flashlight,” Kyle said.
“I did.”
They walked on the path, surrounded by the rustling of birds and squirrels waking up. “Is that Megan’s car?” Emily shone her flashlight at the mass of vehicles parked wherever they could fit.
Kyle’s stomach clutched slightly. “I hope she’s not here to stir shit up,” he said. It was one thing to talk under the stars about letting go and living in reality and accepting that they were a flawed bunch of people, and another to actually be in that reality.
“Well, it is Megan. . . .”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
They paused at the outer edge of the patio. The house looked so peaceful. The glow of hall lights, everything quiet. The margarita machine and a bunch of glasses from last night still on the big picnic table, Grandma’s book on the patio chair.
“Okay,” Emily said. “I really gotta pee. And then probably sleep a few hours.”
“Good idea.”
He headed to his room to get a little more sleep too, then woke to the smells of cooking. Four breakfasts left at the farm, including today. When he got up and headed down for food, he ran into his mom in the hallway, holding a pillow.
“Kyle,” she said. “Hi.”
“Been sleeping in the basement?” Kyle could hear that his voice had lost the edge of judgment that had been in his conversations with her for months.
“No, actually. On the second-floor balcony.”
“Really?”
“It’s not bad. A little damp in the mornings.” She smiled nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I didn’t know I was looking at you any kind of way.”
“Like you want to say something.”
Maybe he did. Tired of secrets, tired of withholding, tired of being enemies. “Mom . . .” He brought his voice as low as it would go. “We looked at your phone.”
“Excuse me?”
“Me and Taylor saw your phone. We saw the messages and stuff. With Troy.” He meant it as a confession and maybe a warning, not an accusation.
She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “Shit.” She opened her eyes. “Taylor knows?”
“I told her the night she came home. Um, also Megan knows.”
A loaded pause. “I see.”
“Do you think maybe . . .” He stopped, because they heard footsteps on the stairs above. Then Uncle Dale appeared.
“Is this the line for the bathroom?”
“Yup,” Kyle said.
His mom waved her hand. “Go ahead.” And she turned and went to her room.
He wondered what she thought he was going to say. Something harsh, probably, like “Do you think maybe you could get your shit together? Do you think maybe you should just leave?” What he’d planned to say was: “Maybe don’t see Troy while you’re here, for your own sake, so you can enjoy the last few days here after so many years of the farm? Leave feeling strong, leave maybe even feeling loved by this family?”
Downstairs, there was a crowd around the food, but he didn’t see Megan. Taylor sat outside in a lawn chair, eating a slab of sausage-and-egg casserole. Kyle’s stomach growled.
“Where’s Megan?”
“Sleeping in the basement. She got in at like two.”
“I’m going to wake her up.”
“You sure you want to do that?”
“She can’t miss breakfast,” Kyle said. “That will only make her madder.”
He went in and down the basement stairs. Megan lay on the sectional, still dressed and sleeping with one arm over her face like she always had.
“Megan,” he said. No movement. Then, louder, “Megan?”
“Hmph.”
“Get up or you’ll miss farm breakfast.”
She bolted up. “What time is it? Why didn’t you guys wake me sooner?”
“Don’t worry, there’s still plenty of food. I should have let you miss it, though, since you never responded to any of my texts. Thanks for that.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, stretched her arms overhead. “Sorry. I was still deciding.”
“You could have said that, I mean—” He stopped himself. Silence with no explanation was exactly what he’d done to Nadia. He laughed a little.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Let’s go eat.”
“Wait, I just saw Mom,” he said. “I told her me and Taylor saw her phone. And you know everything. So I mean, she knows you know, you don’t need to ambush her or anything.”
“I wasn’t going to do that, Kyle. What did she say?”
“Not a lot. Uncle Dale interrupted us.” He watched her face. “So, what are you going to do?”
She let out a big sigh. “I don’t even know. I was all mad when I got in the car, but it’s a long drive and I got to think a lot and I don’t know what the point of any of it is. She’s fucking up and part of me wants to put her on blast. I still might. But I came here for you and Taylor. And the farm and I guess everyone.”
“Realllly?”
“I’m not dead inside, Kyle.”
“I love you,” he said.
“Shut up. I haven’t had coffee yet.”
When they went up to the kitchen, their dad was in there getting seconds, it looked like. He put down his plate when he saw Megan and said, “If I hug you, are you going to bolt?”
“Probably not.” She actually went to him, and Kyle watched as he gave her a bear hug, lifting her slightly off her feet. “Okay, Dad. That’s . . .” He put her down and turned his head away, cleared his throat a couple of times. “Bigfoot cry?” Megan said.
Kyle laughed. God, he missed his family. Even right now, when it was in front of his face, he missed it.
“I hope everyone doesn’t make a big deal about me being here.” Megan peered over their dad’s shoulder to the patio. “Where’s Mom?”
“Haven’t seen her this morning.”
Kyle handed Megan a plate. “Let’s eat.”
They got their plates of food and went out, and Megan waved her hands around and said, “Yes, I’m here, it’s very exciting, let’s move on.”
Aunt Brenda raised her mimosa. “To Megan, still being Megan!”
Everyone else lifted their classes and mugs, laughing. Kyle and Megan sat with Emily and Martie and Taylor at the smaller table. Alex was over on her dad’s lap at the big table.
Martie hugged Megan, then extended her fist to Kyle. He bumped it with his; she nodded. Then she said, “I used to imagine how we’d be over at the big table someday and all our kids would be at this one.”
“We can still do this,” Taylor said. “Like, even though it won’t be here we can get together, all of us. I mean, our house is almost big enough for everyone. We could fit a couple of tables in the backyard.”
“If our house is still a thing at this time next year,” Kyle said.
“What do you mean?” Martie asked. “Are you guys selling or something?”
Taylor said no at the exact same time that Megan said, “Probably.”
“We don’t actually know,” Kyle said.
“Okay, everyone stop talking like this is the last time we’re going to be together,” Emily said. “We have options!”
Voices at the adult table got louder, and the cousins leaned in to listen.
“This isn’t one of those farms that’s been in the family for generations,” Grandpa was saying. “It was our dream and our project and we did it, and now it’s over.”
Aunt Jenny said, “You’re going to shrug it off like that? ‘It was our dream and it’s over’? As if it didn’t affect anyone else?”
Grandpa Navarro clucked, waved his hand. “Jenny. I am ready to retire. I was ready ten years ago.”
“I know, but—”
“Ahora no, Jenny.”
“Hablemos de esto más tarde,” she muttered.
“Ya veremos.”
Martie cupped her hands and shouted over to Grandpa Navarro, “¡Usted siempre dice eso!”
“None of you kids wants to run a farm,” Grandma said. “Correct me if I’m wrong?”
“Not I,” Aunt Brenda said, and Kyle noticed she and Uncle Dale were holding hands under the table.
Kyle’s dad said, “But Mom, you guys didn’t raise us to run it. We weren’t in on the business and you didn’t teach us how to do it.” He pointed in Kyle’s direction. “Kyle’s been working summers with me since he was about ten. He could build a house if he had to. I wouldn’t know what to do with the farm, because Dad treated us like we were in the way.”
“That’s not true,” Grandpa said.
“Yeah, it is, Dad,” Uncle Mike said.
“Um, I could not build a house,” Kyle said to the cousin table.
Taylor laughed. “If you had to, though.” Then her eyes shifted. “There’s Mom.”
The patio slider opened, and Kyle’s mom came out with a cup of coffee. She seemed to scan the patio until she saw what she was looking for: Megan.
Megan put her fork down. “I’m just gonna go say hi real quick to get it over with.”
Kyle watched Megan go to their mom, and it was so weird knowing this big drama was going on—right here, right now—while at the other table they were still arguing about the past.
“Now,” Grandpa said, “if we’d lived farther south and gotten into almonds. Well.” He shook his head. “Who knew? Almond milk, almond flour, almond butter, almond cheese . . .”
“Notice how Grandpa just kind of mowed over whatever my dad and Uncle Jeff were trying to say about their childhood,” Martie said.
Taylor’s eyes were on Megan and their mom, too, sitting in a couple of lawn chairs off to the side of the patio. “I can’t handle this,” she said. “I’m going to start clean-up.”
Emily stood too, and she and Taylor collected empty glasses, plates, handfuls of silverware.
“What’s going on?” Martie asked Kyle.
“This is the first time Megan and my mom have talked in a long time.” Also: everything.
He didn’t feel nervous watching them, though, like Taylor had. It didn’t look like Megan was ripping into her. More like they were making awkward small talk.
“Well now, who’s that?” Grandma asked, looking toward the sound of tires on gravel.
Kyle turned to see.
A gold Subaru came into view.
His whole body clenched.
There were a lot of Subarus in California. There were even a fair number of gold ones. But only one that belonged to the wife of his mom’s boyfriend.
Kyle heard a faint “Oh, Jesus,” from his mom, and he looked at her and saw pure terror in her eyes. Kyle’s dad saw it too, and asked, “Who is it?”
His mom wasn’t moving, and neither was his dad. All the aunts and uncles were looking at his parents, and exchanging glances, but also not moving or speaking. Taylor stood holding the stack of plates. Emily looked at Kyle, a question in her face, and he looked back with the answer: Yep.
The only one doing anything was Pico, who ran barking toward the car.
“I’ll go,” said Kyle.
It felt like his moment. He knew all the players, every domino that was about to fall.
He met the car where it stopped along the side of the house. Anna Partel rolled down her window and took off her sunglasses. There were those bright eyes. “Why do I know you?” she asked.
Kyle saw Jacob was with her. “You brought him?” he asked Anna, incredulous.
“It’s Kyle,” Jacob said, sounding equally confused. “From baseball.”
In the back, a golden retriever bounced around, trying to get a look at Pico, who wouldn’t shut up.
“Baseball?”
“We met one time when you were picking Jacob up,” Kyle said.
“I’m sorry. I’m . . . what are you doing here?”
He looked past her at Jacob, then back to Anna. “Maybe we could talk alone?” he said, and hoped she heard the do-you-really-want-to-do-this-in-front-of-your-kid? question.
She turned off the engine. Unhooked her seat belt. “Stay here,” she said to Jacob.
“I think Chase has to go to the bathroom.”
Anna swore under her breath. Kyle looked behind him, where the whole family was watching. For all most of them knew, he was giving directions to someone who’d gotten lost or thought the farm was open for fruit picking. He really did not want Anna getting out of the car. It looked like Jacob and the dog were going to have to.
He made a come-over-here waving motion toward Emily and Taylor, hoping one of them would get it. They both did, putting down their dirty dishes and coming over. Then Taylor said something to Emily and stayed behind, moving to be by their dad while Emily came to the car.
“This is my cousin Emily,” he said to Jacob. “If you want to come out with the dog, she’ll hang with you a minute.”
Jacob looked at Emily, at Kyle, at his mom. “Can we just go?” he said quietly. His grip around Chase’s neck tightened.
“Take Chase out to pee, sweetie,” Anna said. “I’ll be right here. Two minutes.”
Two minutes. Plenty of time to solve months’ worth of lies and deception.
Jacob got out, and Kyle slid into the passenger seat.
“My childcare fell through,” Anna said. “I told him we were going to go to Great America. I planned to go to Great America and just forget this whole thing, but then I kept driving. Just kept heading for Troy’s dot on the phone. He’s a software developer, you know. And he left his ‘find my phone’ on. He’s not very good at adultery.”
“Neither is my mom.”
Anna stared at him.
“It’s my mom,” Kyle continued. “My mom is the girlfriend.”
He gave her time to catch up. Then she said, “You knew? When I met you that time? Did you know?”
“Yeah.”
Anna put her hands to her temples. “Is that why you started working with the team? Were you trying to get close to my family? Why is your family trying to hurt us? I’m sorry . . . I’m so confused.”
“I know. I’m—”
“I followed the dot. I woke up at four and drove six hours to get to the dot, and now the dot is way up here with someone else from Santa Barbara? They couldn’t stay there and screw around so I didn’t have to drive my child six hours for this?”
Everything he’d imagined about how it would feel for her to realize all these people knew, but not her, was even worse than Kyle had imagined it. Maybe because he hadn’t imagined it happening at the farm, with the kid and the dog.
“Did you tell Jacob?” he asked.
“I may have said some stuff. In a vague way.” She craned her neck to get a better view of the patio. “Which one is she?”
Kyle checked over his shoulder. “My mom is the one in the blue skirt.”
She paused, studying Kyle’s mom, then asked in a pained voice, “Why are they all looking? Do they all know? Does literally everyone know but me?” She leaned out the window and waved Jacob back to the car. “Let’s go, hon.”
Chase and Pico tumbled around and played in front of Emily and Jacob like this was the most fun day they’d ever had.
“They don’t all know. Me and my sisters and my dad.” No need to mention Emily.
“Your father? Your father knows and I didn’t?” She put her sunglasses back on. “Jacob! In the car, now.” She looked at Kyle. “I have to get us out of here. Pretend this didn’t happen.”
Kyle got out of the car. The dogs were going crazy. Jacob opened the back door of the car and both dogs jumped in, and Kyle tried to get Pico out and then a smaller blue car appeared at the top of the drive.
“I think . . . Dad’s here,” Jacob said.
“Shit,” Anna said. “What are you doing, Troy?” She looked at Kyle, frantic. “What’s happening?”
The blue car came to a stop. The Bakers and Navarros all watched as Troy got out.
Pico jumped back into the Subaru, in and out, like it was a game.
“Everything,” Kyle said to Anna. “Everything is happening. What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know! If you could get that goddamn dog out of my car . . .”
Kyle got hold of Pico’s collar, but it was all too late. None of them were going to be able to escape this.
“Jacob,” he said, “lemme show you this cool demolition we’re doing on a building down that path?” He pointed, made eye contact with Anna, hoping she’d get the hint. Down that path. Far away from the shit show about to go down. “We’ll take the dogs.”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Yeah. Jacob, go with Kyle.”