Page 79 of Jesse's Girl

“Which part?”

“About moving back.”

“Yeah?” I peer up at the overgrown trees in the backyard and swallow another sip of my drink, letting the cold trickle past the knot rapidly forming in my throat. A drop of hope creeps in, that Ada might tell me she’s changed her mind—that I should move home.

“I think you should stay in Australia.”

I inhale, fighting off the sting of her words once more, and scrutinize the dead grass at my feet. “You already told me that.”

“I know, and it’s not because I don’t want you around.” She throws me a quick glance. “I just think things here are… I dunno. Too complicated for you.” Ada slouches down further and crosses her legs, resting her glass on the chair’s weathered armrest.

I nod. “Too complicated?”

“Yeah, like, you’ve been away all this time. Found your groove down there. Kinda lost touch with people here…”

Ouch.

She’s not wrong.

“You’ve got friends there, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, think about it this way: you get to breeze into town for the summer—y’know, get a sick tan, drink, party—and fucking… fly away at the end.” She makes a little airplane gesture with her free hand, slipping her eyes to mine as if to gauge my reaction.

I rub the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Plus, you have such an amazing job there that you love. And I bet that farm needs you back. Didn’t you tell Marcus you’re working on some really important stuff?”

I tilt my head but don’t correct her, knowing I’d oversold it when I first showed up. I keep thinking about options for work here in Lennox. Dimitri finally texted me earlier today with a question from his boss about wood chip composting. It got me kind of excited about the possibilities of working here on sustainability stuff.

“And anyway, the admin stuff alone would be a nightmare, I’m sure.” She seems like she’s trying to convince herself more than me. “Yeah, you should definitely go back.”

I frown, contemplating her words.

When I don’t respond, she continues. “You don’t really need to face reality, right? You could just… live in the moment while you’re here. Have fun and not worry about it.”

“Fuck reality? Just opt out?” My smile is cautious.

“Yeah, fuck reality!” She laughs, then takes a sip of her drink, turning back toward the sunset. Then, more quietly, she says, “Wish I could do that.”

I run a hand over my jaw. “So, you’re saying I should just do whatever I feel like while I’m here? Fuck the consequences?” Something’s prickling at the very edge of my awareness.

She shrugs. “Yeah, basically.”

“That’s kind of irresponsible, isn’t it?”

“Depends on what you wanna do.”

I swallow. The words she’s not saying are speaking volumes.

“And if you get caught,” she adds quietly.

Oh, Jesus. Am I hallucinating?

I glance down at my drink.

How strong did she make these margaritas?

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