For Sure & Certain (29 page)

“I thought maybe you’d have all gone to the Outer Banks for Labor Day weekend, like always,” said Marigold, knowing this was another dig. She couldn’t help it, coming home had brought all her claws out.

“You told us specifically that this was the weekend you’d be home. This day. Of course we wouldn’t leave,” said Eileen defensively. “I told you that on the phone.”

“Not that I didn’t try and get them to change their minds,” Lily added in her typical fashion of not really seeming to give a fuck about Marigold. “But I made plans anyways, for tomorrow, so I figured I might as well stick around.”

“Well then, thank you for staying on my behalf,” said Marigold, intent on trying to do better. “Did everyone have a nice summer?”

“My book made the New York Times’ Bestseller List the last six weeks in a row, even with the rocky start,” offered Max, smiling at his family. “It was nice, took some pressure off. I know I’ve been so … consumed. I feel it less so now.”

“And I finished my internship with glowing reviews, obviously,” Cedar said, the corners of his mouth up, knowing he was safe to boast here with family. “My classes start up next week, are you gonna be joining me?” he asked Marigold.

“What?” she asked, confused by the question.

“Jamestown University. Where you’ll be going to school? Any of this ring a bell?” Cedar asked twirling the pasta in his fork.

“Um, let’s not talk about that right now.”  Eileen batted the air at a nonexistent entity. “Lets enjoy this meal. Lily, tell Marigold about your summer.”

Marigold noticed Cedar search his mother’s face, whose eyes shot back daggers, making it clear that was a topic of conversation to avoid. A pit hung in her stomach not even wanting to guess at the psychobabble they were prepared to present her with. Marigold was tired of this, the half-truths tip-toed in this dining room. Yet she knew she was doing the same, biding her time before her plans were known, knowing they had absolutely nothing to do with Jamestown.

“Well, I did spectacularly.” Lily’s voice inflected the grandeur her statement implied. “And by spectacular, I mean I was a mess, and basically outshined by everyone. However, thanks to my amazing study group, we still earned Trape’s recommendation and I can go to JU next year.”

These words sent alarm bells off in Marigold’s mind. If the whole group got a recommendation, that meant Abel got what he’d come here for.

Lily was still talking, animatedly and Marigold clung to her sister’s words. “Getting the recommendation is amazing because I kinda sucked. But still. I had fun. And I’ll be a college student in no time, just probably not one majoring in business.”

The table laughed politely, and Marigold noted how Lily’s departure from her usual stoic self had garnered smiles. Her own attempt at dramatics had always been followed with rolled eyes, and exasperated sighs. She wondered when Lily had claimed the role as her own, and why they were okay with this routine when it came from Lily. She couldn’t ever remember Lily finding self-deprecating humor funny, but here she sat, poking fun at herself.

Marigold didn’t understand. She’d loosened up, relaxed. After her summer Intensive she actually seemed more low-key than ever. Marigold wondered if it had anything to do with the friends of hers who were staying here. Cosplay girl and pseudo-frat boy. Not exactly Lily’s typical prep-school crowd.

The strangest thing, though, was the fact that her parents barely registered the fact that Lily just announced that she wasn’t going to follow in her father’s footsteps. They didn’t seem to mind.

“We’re so proud of you, Lily,” her dad said, raising a glass to Lily. Marigold clinked glasses, her eyes wide in confusion.

“I suppose since everyone is giving a recap,” her mom began. “I should say I finished a proposal for a new project. Non-fiction.”

“What’s it about?” asked Cedar.

“How social media is changing the way we view family.”

Marigold kept her mouth shut, and refused to catch anyone’s eyes. Obviously she was the fodder for her mother’s book, but she knew it wasn’t fair to pin the dysfunctional family dynamics on her. Why were her stupid videos to blame when it all her problems stemmed from overachieving parents who couldn’t give their middle child a break for preferring anything to academics?

That got her riled up, exactly what she did not want to happen. She stuffed pasta in her mouth unwilling to ask any questions about her mom’s new book.

“And you, Marigold, what exactly did you do all summer?” her dad asked as he adjusted his bifocals, as if determined to get a better view of her when she began to fail.

“I was at the Millers’, well, you all know Abel, so his family. And I’m not sure what he’s said, to you especially, Lily. But umm, I was basically helping his family at their farm.”

“Yeah, we all sort of got that part,” Lily was quick to say. “But like, what did you actually
do
all day?”

“I worked. Besides helping with chores, I set up a yarn shop for Mrs. Miller.”

“What does that mean exactly?” her father asked setting down his fork, leaning in to hear.

“Well, Mrs. Miller spins and dyes her own yarn, I mean, they’re sheep farmers. So she spins the wool and I mean, she has so much and she needed help organizing her shed. Once I did that, I sort of like opened up for business and sold it. The yarn I mean.” She finished her spiel, hoping it sounded as good as it felt. Working there. For the first time she had felt so useful, so necessary.

“You started a small business?” Cedar looked at her as if she wasn’t the sister he knew. His eyes crowded together as he studied her.

“I guess, I mean, that sounds really fancy. We didn’t make a lot of money. I mean honestly after they paid me, we barely turned a profit on her yarn. Where I really made money was on these wall hangings I made.”

“Wall hangings?” asked Eileen, resting her chin on her hand.

“Right, so I made these weavings by incorporating some traditional Amish styles and kind of blended them with a more contemporary feel. I still used the yarn medium, but I began playing with it a bit by weaving.” She spoke with her hands, crossing her fingers as if to show the woven bits, which was easy to do because she was speaking the language of her heart.

She continued, not at all deterred by the fact her family had no concept of what weaving as an art form was. It was impossible to ignore her earnest pitch. “Anyways, Mr. Miller made me a small loom and I began making wall hangings. I mean, they’re pretty big, like two feet long. The crazy thing is, it isn’t the Amish who like them, which makes sense. I mean they’re really sort of abstract and not at all like the classic Amish decor.”

By this time Marigold realized everyone’s’ eyes were on her in a different way than she was used too. Lily and Cedar usually locked eyes in an effort to mock, to find fault. But her family seemed to shift in their seats, lean their elbows on the smooth oak table, and actually listen.

“So.” Lily stopped. “You were like, an entrepreneur?”

Cedar laughed. “Isn’t that what you pretended to be all summer at your Business Intensive, Lily?”

“Shut up. We were learning valuable skills that will be an asset to the global market place.” Lily threw him a look that said shut-the-fuck-up.

“Uh-huh,” said Cedar, still laughing at his sister.

“Marigold, this sounds really great. I had no idea you were interested in small business.” Her mom spoke with excitement, beaming at her husband. “Just think, after all that worry, Max, about Marigold’s future, she goes and follows in your footsteps. Jamestown, class of 2020!” She raised her wine glass to meet her husbands.

Marigold nearly choked on the caper-coated chicken in her mouth. “Oh, no,” she back peddled, seeing where this was headed. “No. I just helped a family with cleaning their shed. I swear. Nope, not a business-minded girl, I was in it for the yarn. What can I say, I’m a sucker for fiber arts.”

She smiled wider than necessary only cementing the confused looks flashing across the faces of everyone in her immediate family. All this time her father was silent and Marigold didn’t dare look up to see his reaction.

How easy it would be to look in his eyes and say
Yes, Dad, I’m your hidden prodigy, your prize.
This is still what they wanted for her, her summer away did nothing to prove to them how much she wasn’t like them. It did nothing to prove how very much she was herself, independent of anyone.

She braved the eyes of her family; wanting to be the girl she was with the Millers. Opening her mouth she told them the truth.

“I came home to tell you I’m not staying. I’m going to become Amish.”

Marigold caught her sister’s eyes, who shook her head in disbelief. Marigold had more resolve than ever. These people didn’t even want to understand her.

Abel

He cradled the phone in his hand. He should call. He needed to call.

He didn’t want to.

He set the phone back down and put his head on his pillow. A new roommate would arrive next week. School would start.

He wanted to begin that life with Marigold.

He couldn’t wait.

Picking the phone back up, he dialed a number.

“Lacey?” he asked. “Can you guys meet up? I need to see her. Now.”

Marigold

The fight was loud, long, and exhausting. Marigold’s cheeks were streaked with tears, the words she wanted to scream no longer lodged in her throat.

“This isn’t even about college,” her father yelled. “This is about our daughter joining a cult.”

“You can’t seriously be considering this,” Eileen argued weakly.

“Because I’m not like you?”
Marigold shook her head as her mother threw back her glad of Chardonnay.

“Goldie, think rationally, here,” Cedar tried to reason. “You would be giving us up, forever, for people you’ve only known a few months. This is just a phase, another one of your things. But more drastic.”

“It’s not a phase,” she said. “If you’d only stop for a moment and see who I’ve become. Stop judging me for who I was.”

“This isn’t a judgment … it’s the facts,” said Lily sadly. “You’re throwing your life away.”

“But it’s my life. My life to throw away or whatever you want to call it. Why is
me
not being
you
the worst thing in the world?” She threw her arms open wide, incredulous.

Lily was the one to answer, surprising Marigold. They’d never been close, but this summer had changed Lily, had changed them both.

“I don’t want you to be me,” she said softer now. “I just wish you’d realize that running away from us isn’t going to bring understanding. Stick around, and make us understand you. You act like we don’t care, but maybe you’ve never given us a chance.”

“You’ve all been pushing me away.” Marigold sat on the couch, defeated. “I just want to be with people who understand me.”

“We understand you. It’s you who is so set against understanding us.” Her mother’s voice became gravelly, low, as if her words had hit rock bottom. Marigold realized maybe they had. That with this conversation they were finally getting to the deep, dank ground they avoided. The bottom-of-the-sea-truth.

“Do you really think you understand me?” Marigold arms were flayed out in front of her, as if she offering herself as a living sacrifice. “It seems like when I made those stupid videos you were embarrassed of me, and then when I dropped out of school you were ashamed, and now I want to go be a good person and make fucking apple butter and that isn’t good enough either. I sometimes wonder if there’s anything I could do that would make you happy.”

“You are so stubborn, Goldie, you always were.” Her father ran his hand through his silvery hair. “We know we haven’t been perfect, or what you want. You feel stuck in the middle of us … but maybe you put yourself there and no one asked you to stay.”

“So you think I want this?” Marigold shook her head. “You think I want to create the problems, that I’m looking for drama?”

“Not exactly,” he answered.

“Then what?”

“Sometimes we resist what we want because leaning into our strengths is scarier than running away,” her father explained, his words gentle, not like her moms. Marigold had never seen him like this, concerned. He shifted his role in their family and she didn’t like it.

“So what now, you’re going to wax poetic to make me feel bad? It’s a little late for father of the year, don’t you think?”

“God, Goldie,” Cedar groaned. “We are not the enemy. Mom got you all enrolled in Jamestown. We want to help you get back on track.”

“Are you kidding with this? Why can’t this be my track?” Marigold screamed. “Why can’t my plan be what I make it?”

Eileen just shook her head, “If you think we’re so terrible for helping you go to college, than go back to them.”

“You can’t mean that.” Cedar shook his head in shock.

“Why not, Cedar? Your sister’s not going to listen. Fine. You want to go live with the family of some boy you hardly know, get married, and have a bunch of babies, fine. But you know what? We’ll be here when you come back, when you realize you aren’t as different from us as you think.”