Soleil had seen this dynamic of clashing cultures played out before here at the farm, and there wasn’t always an easy way to engender respect between kids with vastly different life experiences. But sometimes, with patience, she succeeded.
“I know how it feels to be told I’m not black enough. It hurts.”
“Just because I speak using proper English, I’m white? We’re never going to have equality when we’re racist and judgmental.”
Soleil was more intimately familiar with this issue than most people. She’d felt the same pain as a kid. Having a mother who was a famous poet and a Berkeley professor hadn’t done a damn thing for her street cred.
“You know,” Soleil said, “my mother is white and my father is black, but we never lived together as a family after I was six years old. So here I was, this girl with black skin being raised by a white woman in Berkeley, living in a white neighborhood. When I went to school, I felt like I had more in common with the white kids, but I so wanted to be accepted by my black peers.”
“So what did you do?”
“I tried to be true to myself. I am who I am. I’m not a race, and I’m not a racial identity. I’m an individual. I hung out with the kids who accepted me-and I tried not to get beaten up by the kids who didn’t,” she said wryly.
Lexie finally smiled. “I bet you got your butt kicked.”
“A few times, but I won a few fights of my own.”
“I’ve never been in a fight. Today was the closest I’ve ever come.”
“What made you apply to come here?” Soleil asked.
She remembered what Lexie had written in her application essay, but she wanted to hear the girl’s own words. Lexie was her least likely applicant, a resident of the wealthy Oakland hills who attended a prestigious private school. Her life was far removed economically, if not geographically, from the communities where Urban Garden worked to transform empty lots into organic gardens for communities that didn’t have easy access to fresh, local produce.
“I don’t like driving through bad neighborhoods on the way home and feeling like I’m not a part of the solution to the problems around me. It’s like, I’m the opposite of the solution, you know?”
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way.”
Lexie wasn’t interested in being soothed. “It’s stupid, because people like Angelique don’t even want my help.”
“Maybe she does and maybe she doesn’t. That doesn’t change the fact that we need you as much as we need her.”
The girl said nothing as she stared at the ceiling. Stretched out on the bed, her curly black hair was almost dry, and she wore a pink T-shirt in place of the one that had been soaked with milk. Her faded jeans still bore a few milk splatters, and in spite of her simple attire, there was no way for her to disguise the fact that her jeans were expensive, and her T-shirt was designer. She had an elegant polish that made it clear she was an upper-middle-class kid.
Soleil felt her pain, but she couldn’t help but sympathize with Angelique, too. It was hard for such an idealistic kid to understand how the world could dole out disparities in life to people who’d done no more than be born to unlucky circumstances.
“Look,” Soleil finally said, “I have to go make lunch. You’re back on garden duty until lunchtime.”
Lexie shrugged as she sat up. “Okay. So long as I’m working alone.”
Soleil didn’t see any point in arguing now that being at the farm meant working together, whether Lexie wanted to or not. She already knew that, which was why she was so upset in the first place. When she came here, she hadn’t bargained on being the only kid from a privileged background, or on being rejected by her peers for that very fact.
As Soleil went back to the kitchen, she allowed her thoughts to stray to West and the impending discussion she’d have to have with him. Her stomach knotted with anxiety.
It was only half past noon, and already she was exhausted. Being pregnant made her want to take a nap every day, and yet her work didn’t allow that luxury. So she dealt. But, God, what she wouldn’t have given to curl up in bed and shut out the world.
As she passed the rear kitchen window, she could see West walking in from the field, headed right in her direction. Yep, definitely the part of the world she wanted to shut out right now.
PREGNANT, PREGNANT, pregnant, pregnant…
The word would not leave West’s head. It loomed there, bigger than any other thought, refusing to get out of the way. Soleil. Pregnant. With his baby.
No, he shouldn’t have been getting ahead of himself. He needed to wait and hear her story, and trust that if she was really pregnant with his child, she’d have had the decency to tell him right away.
But as soon as that thought formed in his head, he hated the idea of it because it implied that she really was pregnant with someone else’s child.
Which was a stupid way to feel since she’d made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a relationship with him anyway.
Dammit.
Round and round his thoughts went as he strode across the field. The day had remained gray and misty, though no rain was falling. Not too far away, he could see the teenagers overseeing the goats, and for the briefest moment he experienced a surge of misplaced pride in the work Soleil did. Sure, she was a pie-eyed idealist, but she lived by her ideals every waking moment, and she did good work with the kids.
If he had more time during this leave, he’d love to hang out here and get his hands dirty. But that option didn’t seem likely considering the reason why West was on leave. His father had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease two months ago, and his mental state had deteriorated drastically in the past six months. Now he needed constant care, but he’d managed to drive away the first three caregivers West had hired, leaving him with no choice but to deal with the situation in person. It was a complicated mess made worse by his complex feelings for his father.
He arrived at the rear door of the farmhouse and knocked.
Soleil called out for him to come in.
As he opened the door, the scent of fresh-baked bread greeted him. He inhaled deeply-he was ravenous.
“Join us for lunch?” Soleil said, though her lack of a smile reminded him that she’d probably prefer he not.
“I will, thanks.”
Would she have been inviting him for lunch if she had any big, life-altering news to report?
“We’re having sandwiches and potato salad. Hope that’s okay.”
“Sounds great. Your fence is fixed, by the way.”
“Thank you so much. I meant to get out there this morning and totally forgot about it. I’ve been pretty forgetful lately-it’s a side effect of…” She trailed off, seeming to realize too late that she’d brought up something she didn’t want to discuss.
“Pregnancy?” he finished for her.
“Yeah.” She smiled weakly.
“You look great. Really glowing and healthy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Everybody says that. I think it’s supposed to make me feel better about my jeans not fitting anymore.”
“I always thought you could stand to gain a few pounds. You were tiny before-you nearly disappeared when you turned sideways.”
This conversation between them felt too weird. Last time they’d talked face-to-face, they’d been in a canoe together, having one of their predictable lovers’ quarrels, then Soleil had given West a possibly well-deserved shove into the lake and rowed away.
The subject matter of that final argument-motherhood and pregnancy-now seemed eerily timed.
Here they were, five and a half months later, talking like casual acquaintances when what they should have been doing was picking up that conversation where it had left off before she’d abandoned him in the lake.