Page 17 of Christmas at the Ranch
Samantha recalled the things she told Drew on the plane.
“Your father is a great person,” she said guiltily. “Anyone would be thrilled to be invited to his ranch. It’s my fault that I’m not enjoying it.”
Drew took a pastry from the bread basket and offered one to Samantha.
“You said on the plane that you can’t turn off your imagination.” He pulled apart his muffin. “But it’s more than that.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“When you said that no one listens. Were you talking about anyone in particular?”
Samantha was about to protest when the waitress brought their plates. Drew had ordered Belgian waffles, and Samantha had French toast made with cinnamon bread and a white mocha with hazelnut flavor for her coffee.
Sitting across from Drew with the winter sun streaming through the window, she felt so far from New York and her life before Roger left. She used to love meeting Roger for Thai food after work, and she never minded taking the subway home alone. She looked forward to visiting thrift shops in the Catskills on the weekends, and going apple picking in the Hudson Valley during the fall.
Slowly Samantha started talking. She told Drew how she and Roger met the month after she moved to New York. They were both picking out dogs at the animal shelter. Roger was about to adopt Socks. He handed Socks to Samantha and said he saw them looking at each other. Samantha and Socks belonged together.
The first year they were so happy. They both wanted the same things: satisfying careers, a family, and enough money to travel and give back to their community.
“Roger is three years older than me. He started keeping track of his friends from law school on social media: one was clerking for a judge; another was the youngest partner at an entertainment law firm. He made a list of goals for himself and stuck it on the fridge in his apartment. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, I had my own goals,” she said, toying with her spoon. “It started to interfere with his happiness. He worked late every night because he wanted to bill more hours than the other associates. He accepted invitations to parties even though he didn’t like the host. When I asked him about it, he shrugged and said that’s what lawyers did to get ahead.
“One morning, I was at his apartment after he left for work. A lease was sitting on his desk. I thought Roger was going to surprise me and ask me to move in with him.” She looked up at Drew. “I only realized after he left for California that the lease was for an apartment in Manhattan Beach, not Manhattan.” She finished, “You can’t help someone if they don’t admit something’s wrong. If Roger had told me how he was feeling, if he’d listened to me, he might have stayed in New York.”
Drew put down his coffee cup. He picked up his fork.
“And since then?” he wondered. “Who do you talk to now?”
“I talk to Socks,” Samantha confessed. “And Charlie’s girlfriend, Emily, when I need fashion advice. Sloane Parker would be stuck wearing sweatpants and sloppy T-shirts instead of Galliano gowns if it weren’t for Emily.” She grinned. “And I talk to my mother. She calls in the evenings. She says it’s because she misses talking around the dining room table. Really she’s checking to make sure I eat a proper dinner instead of frozen pizza four times a week.”
“Maybe that’s the problem, maybe you should find someone to talk to,” Drew suggested.
They reached for the syrup at the same time and for a moment their hands touched. Samantha felt a jolt of electricity. As if she’d picked up a blouse straight out of the dryer.
She took her hand away and concentrated on cutting her French toast.
“Tell me about Chiang Mai,” she said, changing the subject. “I did a report on Thailand in high school. It has the most beautiful temples.”
After lunch, they strolled along the sidewalk. Christmas music drifted from the pergola and a horse and carriage clopped around the town square.
“Do you mind if we do a little shopping before we go back to the car?” Drew asked. “I promised Kaman I’d send the children in the village some souvenirs.”
They stepped into a gift shop filled with baskets of candy canes and Christmas toffees. Samantha helped Drew choose a child’s bow and arrow set, and a selection of scarves and mittens.
“I should take a photo of you under the elk antlers,” Drew said, carrying his packages outside.
“I don’t need a photo,” Samantha said.
The antlers were decked out with Christmas lights and a giant red bow.
“Everybody needs a photo under the Jackson Hole antlers,” Drew insisted. “You can send it to Charlie and your parents.”
Samantha hesitated. There wasn’t any reason not to take a photo. And she could show Charlie she wasn’t cooped up in her guest room, avoiding everyone. She was actually out trying to enjoy herself.
Samantha waited for a family to finish taking their photo. She moved under the antlers and Drew took out his phone.
“Wait, let me put down my packages,” he said, crouching down on the sidewalk.
Suddenly there was a whooshing sound, followed by a heavy cracking. Samantha glanced up and a giant icicle teetered above her. She ducked and it narrowly missed her head.
