Page 99 of Crystal Iris
Hoyt is casually sipping his coffee, completely dusted in flour.
“Hoyt, did you make all these?” I wonder what time he woke up.
“I couldn’t decide, so I made them all.”
“Hoyt! You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
I walk closer to a stack topped with strawberries and cream. I’ve never smelled anything so good.
“I gotta go, the vet is waiting for me. Enjoy.”
He walks away, leaving me alone with all the food. I dip my finger into the cream and taste it. A loud moan escapes me. His cooking is going to be the death of me.So much for getting in the best shape of my life.I eat until I can’t anymore.
I text him:If you lose your money, you can always open a diner. Those were the best damn pancakes I’ve ever had.
We’re still waiting for the lawyers to do their job. It’s out of my hands now, I remind myself every time I start to worry.
He sends a smiley face in reply.
I’m recovering from being extremely full when I decide to take a walk. I need to burn those calories, even though I know only a marathon could do that.
Spring has transformed the ranch since I last saw it. The heat has brought in more wildflowers. I recognize the bee balms, daisies, and lilies—but the rest of them, I don’t know the names of. They’re lovely, each very different yet belonging together. Wildflowers have a different kind of beauty; it’s like they fight to grow, to take their place in the chaos of nature. No gardener’s hands planted or pruned them. They came up on their own, and that’s how they’ll stay.
I sit on the grass, letting myself be surrounded by them. There’s something about being connected to the earth that makes me feel different. I take off my sandals and spread my toes, letting the grass fill the spaces between them. I close my eyes, letting my body experience everything—the wind, the sounds, the smell of the earth, the distant hum of life around me. Just like I did in meditation, I sense everything, listening to it all.
I open my eyes and notice there’s no one here—only nature.The spot I chose to sit in is far from the house, the barn, anything man-made. I feel like the butterflies around me—part of the world, nothing more, nothing less.
I lie down, but the sun becomes too bright. I roll onto my side, using my hands as a pillow. My prism pulses when it touches the dirt.
What about the earth below me awakens the necklace my mother gave me? I want to know more. I sit up, and the prism slows its pulsing. I lie back down, and it responds by increasing its presence. I repeat the same motion twice, and again, the prism reacts accordingly, increasing and decreasing depending on how close it is to the earth’s soil.
I understand nothing about this occurrence, but at least I have someone to discuss it with. Perhaps his prism does the same thing.
I haven’t seen Hoyt all morning. After my walk, I took a shower and enjoyed a glorious nap. When I wake up, it’s almost three in the afternoon. I’m just now getting hungry after my morning feast. I need something light.
I open his fridge and realize I’ll be eating his food for months. I need to help somehow—maybe with the groceries, or the bills, something. I know he doesn’t need the money, but I can’t stay for free. Not for that long. I see Broc outside the kitchen window, pulling something with his truck that I don’t recognize.
I walk out to meet him.
“Hey, how are you?” he asks, glancing my way.
“Hi! I’m good. Did Hoyt tell you I’m staying for the summer?”
“Yeah, yeah, he was acting like it’s Christmas morning, couldn’t stop smiling, even when the vet talked about worms.”
I smile at the thought of him smiling because of me.
“I was wondering, is there something I can do around here? Like work?”
“Do you mean teaching?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Something to help around the… ranch?”
Broc looks at me like I have two heads.
I explain, “I need to… feel useful.”
