Page 65 of Christmas at the Ranch
“You did what!” I exclaimed. “I don’t want to go to university in New York. It’s dirty and crowded and everything costs a fortune.”
“You’ve never been to New York,” he said indignantly. “Central Park is 840 acres of grass and lakes. It even has horseback riding trails. And not all of New York is expensive. Subways are cheap and Yankee Stadium sells the best cheeseburgers for $1.99 each.”
I had seen photos of Central Park, but I never imagined it was so big. And hamburgers in Jackson Hole cost at least three dollars.
“That’s not the point.” I refused to be swayed. “Inever considered college in New York. I can’t afford the tuition.”
“You don’t have to.” He turned the page of the acceptance letter. “You received a full scholarship including room and board.”
Even if I went to school in Wyoming, I’d have to pay for housing and food. I couldn’t live at home; the university is four hours from Jackson Hole.
“How could I qualify for a scholarship when they don’t know anything about me?”
Arthur sipped his coffee.
“I got the name of your guidance counselor from your parents. The counselor sent your transcripts and teacher recommendations.” He smiled. Oh diary, that smile. It never fails to win me over. “You never told me you were president of the honor society and head of the committee to save hawks from extinction.”
I shrugged. It’s silly to boast about one’s high school accomplishments after graduation.
“NYU has one of the best pre-vet programs,” he continued. “From there, you’re bound to get accepted to Cornell.”
Cornell’s veterinarian school is the best in America. I’ve dreamed of attending, but I never thought it was possible.
Outside the window, it was a typical Jackson Hole sunset. The sky was a burnt orange and the tops of the mountains were tipped with pink and yellow. How could I leave Wyoming when it’s so beautiful?
“I’ve never lived anywhere else,” I wavered. “I couldn’t survive without the mountains.”
He leaned forward and kissed me.
“New York has something more important than mountains,” he whispered. “It would have us, together. And I’m in love with you.”
Arthur had told me he loved me before. But only in bed, in the afterglow of sex.
I stirred my coffee.
“It’s a big decision,” I said. “I’ll give you my answer tomorrow.”
“Which part are you unsure about?” he wanted to know. “Accepting the scholarship or having feelings for me?”
Arthur is over six feet tall, with the ease and confidence of a movie star. For once he seemed unsure of himself. I leaned forward and kissed him.
“Only the first part,” I whispered back. “I’m falling in love with you too.”
The next entry was dated October 1991.
Dear Diary,
Everyone says autumn is the best season in New York. There are things I love about it: my dorm room looks out on Union Square and there are so many different types of people. And nothing is better than gelato on late summer days. But I miss Wyoming. The only animals I see are my roommate’s ferret and the cat that hangs out on the front steps. The buildingsare so close together, sometimes I can’t see the sky. And it’s never as brilliant a blue as the sky in Jackson Hole.
Arthur is attending business school at Columbia and we don’t see each other every day. When we do, it’s as good as it’s always been. We explore the city and he insists on paying for everything. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like one of the horses at the dude ranch last summer. It was an Irish Hunter imported from Ireland, and I could tell it was homesick.
I’ve had the flu for the last few days, and that’s made it worse. It’s hard to get better with sirens screaming outside my window. Tomorrow night, Arthur wants me to have dinner with his parents. How am I going to put on a dress and heels when I can hardly get out of bed?
The next entry was dated a week later.
Dear Diary,
Arthur’s parents live in one of those doorman buildings on the Upper West Side. You should have seen it: floor-to-ceiling windows, silk upholstery, and a kitchen with all the latest gadgets.
