“Breathe,” I tell myself. Maybe it’s a good thing I’ll be spending some time out here, away from the grind of my job and the intensity of downtown LA. Perhaps there’s a silver lining to being here now with a little time to think things through without my sisters yapping in my ear all the time. No, I haven’t told them. Not until I at least make a valiant effort to find Fitz…whatever his last name is, and let him know.
Guess I’ll be stopping by the Hitching Post later in case that’s his regular hangout.
But first things first—I want to walk the property. See what we actually inherited.
Last time, everyone was so focused on the cracks and broken windows. I want to explore the grounds. Mel promised me a fat-tired bike to navigate the dirt pathways between the gnarled, overgrown trees. Sounds fun. A little bike ride in the countryside.
Unfortunately, my deposition ran an hour longer than I’d planned, putting me behind schedule. I wanted to hit the highway before two in the afternoon to avoid traffic heading out of LA, which meant no time to stop at home or change clothes.
A pencil skirt, silk blouse, and low-heeled pumps aren’t ideal for tromping around the ranch property, but I’m not fussy. If I get a little dust on my shoes, so be it.
I say goodbye to the yellow bird and follow the path around the side of the house. As promised, there are not one but twobikes in a shed. Choosing the red bike, I wheel it out onto the gravel path and adjust the seat to the lowest setting.
The pedals are big and flat, so it’s easy to use the flat toe box of my shoes to push down and ride. I have to hike my skirt up around my thighs to give me enough leeway to pedal, but fortunately, it’s a stretchy fabric, so it gives. I’m the only one out here, and I don’t think the birds care if I look ridiculous.
“Here goes,” I tell myself. Then I push down on a pedal and ride.
The tires squelch through mud, and I relish the burn in my quads, which makes my heart beat faster and reminds me there’s a humming world outside of legal briefs, billable hours, and pantsuits.
I’d forgotten how much I like being outdoors. I guess that’s what happens when a person works twelve hour days. I sometimes forget to eat dinner because I’m so absorbed in a case. Instead of thinking it’s a sign I need a life, the workaholic state fuels me. I stay later, work harder, aim higher.
And right now, I’m wondering why. Not why I chose the job I did, but why I’ve been letting it take over my life so much that I’ve forgotten to touch grass. It wasn’t intentional, but it became a habit.
I’d like bike riding to become a habit, especially a ride like this one under an aqua sky—which I can sort of see through the overgrown tree branches that look like they might fall on my head with a stiff wind.
It’s a good thing the tires are knobby because the path is bumpy and untamed. I start a mental list of things that will need work around here, and the vastness of the property confirms how overwhelming it will be to take on renovation and motherhood at the same time.
Oh yeah, and my career.
I stop pedaling and grab my phone from the basket to make a video call to Callie. Even though her head is in the clouds most of the time, I can use her enthusiasm about renovating this place. And she’s always had my back.
“Hey!” Her face fills the screen, and I can’t help smiling at the cherubic roundness with deeper dimples than mine. I have an upward view of her face as she looks at her computer screen and types.
“Callie, look down for a sec.” Her green eyes grow wide, and she flips her straight brown hair over her shoulders.
“Oh! You’re there. How is it without all the negative energy from Haze?”
I laugh, loving how she has no problem calling any of us out on our shortcomings. The beauty of being the youngest is that she gets away with it.
“It’s really great, Cal. I think the place has potential.”
“I’m here to help as soon as I get through the next couple of weeks of weddings.”
“I’m not worried. I know where to find you.”
“Yes, you do, only you’re gonna need to find me later because I have two brides barking at me today.”
“Understood. Just wanted you to see the view.”
“Love it. Love you.”
I shove the phone into my pocket and start riding again, the bike’s tires bumping over clods of dirt. No one has done any gardening out here for years, and I’m cognizant of my pregnant state, which feels weird to think. But I’ll have to get used to it.
Riding slowly, I notice the overgrown trees and dead plants that may once have been crops or flowers. I wish I’d taken this tour of the property when we were here for my birthday weekend. Before I got pregnant. Before I opened my mouth and told my sisters I wanted to be in charge of renovating the ranch.
A laugh chokes out as I think back to that crossroads, which would have put me in a very different place today. I’d like to follow the other version of Tessa Demille around for a few days and see how her life feels.
And just as quickly, I realize I don’t want her life. Even though I’m on new terrain—literally—I like it. My predictable, safe, worry-filled life has taken me this far, but maybe I’m due for a little more adventure.