Ana of California (5 page)

The wallpaper was covered in faded flowers, intertwining bouquets of dusty pink roses tied with fraying blue ribbons. The wooden floors, which creaked a little even when she was standing still, were covered in woven rugs. There
was a good-size bed, black iron and simple, with a quilt folded at the edge of the striped bedspread. The bedside table, mint green and chipped in places, was lit by a metal lamp in the shape of a mouse reading a book under a pleated cream-colored shade.

“It's a time capsule of cozy,” Ana said, though she thought she said it to herself.

“Indeed.” Abbie chuckled as she placed the plate of cookies on the bedside table in front of the old-fashioned alarm clock. “I put your bag in the corner, hope you don't mind,” Abbie said, pointing to a blanketed chair near the curtained window. “And you're welcome to hang your clothes in the armoire over there. We're somewhat short on closets around here. But this is your space, so please settle in.”

Ana nodded, not knowing what to say.

“The bathroom's small I'm afraid, but it's yours and right across the hall,” Abbie continued. “My room's a few doors down at the end, and Emmett sleeps out in the barn. We're here if you need anything, so don't hesitate to wake us. I set the alarm clock to four thirty a.m. That should give you enough time to get ready and come down for breakfast. Please don't be late.”

“I won't.”

“As I'm sure you experienced today, Emmett is strict and sometimes lacking in tact, but we both want you to do well here.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, I almost forgot! I called Mrs. Saucedo back in L.A. I was supposed to have you call her, but we agreed tomorrow might be better. She's aware that it's a tryout, but she wants to speak to you after your shift in the afternoon. She told me to tell you to remember what she said. I thought that
sounded ominous, but she was rather insistent that I deliver the message.”

Ana remained still, both hands at her sides, her thumbs fidgeting in and out of closed fists.

“You sure you're okay?”

“I've never slept in a bed this size.”

“It gets cold at night, so make sure to use the blanket,” Abbie said before making her way to the door. “And get some sleep. You'll need it.”

The door shut quietly. Ana stood there for a moment, listening to Abbie make her way down the hall before all fell silent behind another closed door. She unlaced her sneakers, trusty old black Vans pockmarked with holes, and placed them beside the bed. She folded her jacket and draped it on the back of the tapestry chair, topping it with her baseball cap. Afraid to leave the room, even to brush her teeth, she removed her jeans and pulled on the crumpled pair of boxer shorts from the bottom of her backpack.

As always, she unpinned the square of fabric attached to the front of it, which had been cut from her abuela's favorite dress, and made her way to the bed. Careful not to crawl under the covers while still wearing unwashed clothes, she peeled back the bedspread, got in over the top sheet, and then pulled the cover over her head, leaving just enough space in which to breathe. The house echoed and moaned. A restless breeze rattled the window. Ana closed her eyes and squeezed the fabric in the palm of her hand, hoping it would continue to keep the shadows
away.

S
he expected roosters, but it was too early even for the birds. Awake for hours, Ana checked the clock at 4:18 and decided to get out of bed. Worried she might wake Abbie, she was afraid to shower, so she threw a clean sweatshirt over her T-shirt and jeans.

It was dark outside except for the moonlight bathing the grounds. She parted the gauzy white curtains. There was a large tree just outside the window and beyond it flat land. It was like staring at an alien landscape, everything slightly foreboding and new. She shut the curtain and caught her reflection in the armoire's mirror. Her eyes were still rimmed in dark circles—“raccoon smiles” she used to tell her sort-of siblings—and her hair was its usual mess of curls.

“The bane of my feral existence,” she whispered to the mirror while sweeping the last strands back into a low ponytail. The alarm wailed. Ana leaped for it, and her stomach moaned in unison. She opened the door and was greeted
by dim light, the scent of something savory beckoning her downstairs. Hung on the bathroom door directly across the hall was a straw hat lassoed with leather. She ran her fingers over a snag in the brim, assuming Abbie had left the hat for her. Remembering Emmett's explicit instructions, she took it and headed for the stairs.

“Sleep all right?” Abbie asked as Ana peeked through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Sort of.”

“I'm sure it's strange being in a new place. Come and have a seat. I'm making eggs Benedict, but please help yourself to coffee or juice on the table.”

Ana sat in the same chair as the night before and sipped a glass of orange juice. Abbie was right. The first morning was always difficult, she reminded herself, thinking back on all of the first mornings over the years. Though Ana's inclination was to fill the silence, Mrs. Saucedo had warned her over and over again that this was part of a pattern she needed to change. She watched as Abbie tended to a skillet on the stove and wondered if she cooked like this every morning.

“I took the hat on the door,” Ana said. “I hope that's okay.”

“I left it for you. It's my old gardening hat, a bit worn, but it'll keep you shaded in the sun.”

The frying pan sizzled.

“Canadian bacon is Emmett's favorite,” Abbie said, scooping the circular pieces of ham out onto a paper towel–lined plate. “He doesn't care for my French toast or anything else ‘shellacked in syrup,' so I thought I'd make us all something special this morning.”

She composed a plate and set it down in front of Ana. It was heaped with English muffins topped in ham, poached eggs, and a slathering of hollandaise sauce, a small bowl of
berries off to the side. It was the opposite of Ana's usual breakfast, which is to say it was something instead of nothing.

“I hope you don't mind if I join you,” Abbie continued. “I usually eat after Emmett and the gang start their work, but I thought you might like the company.”

“Sure,” Ana answered, filling her mouth with another gulp of juice, careful not to show any sign of discomfort.

Abbie sat down next to her and poured a cup of coffee from a ceramic coffeepot. Her fingernails were short, Ana noticed, as if periodically chewed or meticulously clipped, and she thought she glimpsed a small tattoo of a heart in the crease of Abbie's ring finger. There was something about her controlled expression, something about Abbie's arrowed posture, that seemed forced, as if kicking back might come more naturally to her.

“How's everything?”

“Good,” Ana said, swallowing a few berries. She didn't know where to begin with what she thought must be eggs covered with lemon sauce.

Abbie sensed Ana's discomfort and worried she'd chosen the wrong first-day breakfast. She was delighted to have company in the house but wondered if she'd gone overboard.

“We have toast and cereal if you're not that hungry . . .”

“I'm okay,” Ana said and continued to chew.

“Not a fan of eggs Benedict?”

“Never really had it before, but it kind of looks like a deconstructed Egg McMuffin.”

“I've never thought about it that way, but you're right, it does.” Abbie smiled. “You don't have to force yourself to eat it if you don't want to.”

Ana didn't want to be rude, especially on her first day, so she cut an edge off and gave it a try.

“Holy wow,” she said, taking another bite.

“Not really what you've been used to?” Abbie asked, then wished she hadn't asked it.

“Are you kidding?” Ana said. “I usually get a square of sprinkled cardboard from the toaster or yogurt squirted from a tube. Or, you know, nothing at all.”

Abbie couldn't tell if Ana was joking or not. She wanted to get her talking more and let her know that Garber Farm was a safe place, and not at all like the situations Mrs. Saucedo had described.

“I heard from your caseworker that it's been a busy few days,” Abbie said. “I want you to know that you are welcome here. I'll make you anything you'd like.”

It didn't seem real, this room, this food, this woman, Ana thought, and that raised a caution flag. She'd rarely been around adults who were interested in what she might desire, even for breakfast. She'd learned there was no point in asking for anything. She'd read
Oliver Twist
at the library, and laughed grimly about how some things never change. Why this solitary woman in a lonely farmhouse was going above and beyond to please her seemed suspect. All the times she had allowed herself to be taken in before had resulted only in having to give up something much more in return.

“This sauce is ridiculous,” Ana said, finishing the last few bites left on the plate. “I seriously thought it was going to be lemon flavored, which would be weird. I hardly ever eat eggs, but my abuela used to cook them in chile sauce for me.”

Abbie decided not to mention that the hollandaise was indeed made with lemons. “Who is your abuela?”

“Oh, um, my grandma. She was the best cook on the planet. She was big on breakfast, always telling me, ‘Mija,
you have to start the day right.' But it's been a while since, you know, since I've eaten anything like this. It's hotel style, right? Not that I've ever stayed in a hotel. But if I did, this is what I'd imagine.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Abbie said, noticing the clock. “I should send you out there. You'll be working all morning until lunch, and then run deliveries with me this afternoon. I want to make sure we're making this transition easy for you . . .”

“So far, so good,” Ana said, taking the last gulp of juice.

Ana picked up her plate.

“You can leave it there, hon.”

“I'd like to put it where you need it to go if that's all right.”

“You're welcome to set it in the sink,” Abbie said. “I appreciate the help.”

Ana took the plate over to the sink and looked out the window into the garden outside. “Don't screw it all up,” she reminded herself again.

 • • • 

I
t was brisk and dark outside, the air thick with a tingling mist. Ana did as Abbie told her and followed the gravel path through the fenced garden, light from the house rippling across the bushes and rows of vegetation. There were rows and rows of crops, raised stripes of earth and foliage that stretched as far as she could see. Ana continued walking toward the white domes in the distance, where a few people gathered around a tractor silhouetted against the charcoal sky.

It was quiet. She listened to the sound of her breath as her sneakers sank into the damp earth. She thought she
heard a second set of feet mimicking her footsteps. She told herself not to turn around and instead quickened her pace, but the steps multiplied behind her, becoming louder as they broke into a gallop.

“Dolly!” someone yelled in the distance.

Ana whipped around at the exact moment a blur of golden fur leaped toward her, catapulting her to the ground. The dog's rough, wet tongue found her face, hot breath blanketing her ear. She made a move to reach over and introduce herself, but the dog ran around her in circles, barking happily.

“You all right?” Emmett said, out of breath, as he approached her.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Ana said.

“Manny, let's take Dolly over to the barn. You sure you're all right?”

Ana took a moment to glance around at several faces watching her and nodded her head. She stood up and brushed off her jeans.

“I should have warned you about the dog,” Emmett said with a disconcerting frown.

“Am I late?”

“You're early. This is Manny Lavaca, manager here at Garber Farm.”

“Hello,” Manny said, tipping the brim of his hat in her direction while holding the panting retriever by its collar. Manny had a weathered face, an overgrown mustache, and kind eyes that made her feel more at ease. “No need to worry about this one, she won't bite—just excited to see someone new.”

“I'm not scared or anything; she just startled me.”

“Good ol' Dolly,” Emmett said, patting the dog's head. “Always wanting to say hello.”

Nosy and eager with wriggling ears and a goofy, wide-mouthed grin, the dog strained against Manny's grip and whined desperately in Ana's direction. Though her inclination was to let Dolly sniff the back of her hand before reaching out and smoothing the fur on the dog's enormous head, Ana remained still. She wanted to tell all of the men standing there that she knew about dogs because she'd had one once. But she stopped herself and stuffed her hands into her pockets instead. None of them cared about her past, she told herself. Emmett hadn't even wanted her there in the first place.

“I'll take her, Boss. Let you get started,” Manny said, pulling Dolly in the direction of the barn. Once they were far enough away, he let her go and released something from his pocket high up into the air. Dolly jumped and caught it, her cheerful barking nudging the farm's only rooster awake, the fields igniting with their usual morning song.

“Let's get to work,” Emmett said.

The workers continued to stand nearby waiting for direction. They all wore variations of the same uniform: jeans, sweatshirts, caps or cowboy hats, boots or sneakers. Some had a bandanna covering their ears or neck. None of them acknowledged Ana, but a couple glanced her way. Emmett cleared his throat and began his sermon, punching certain words for dramatic effect.

“All right, guys, we're ramping up Community Supported Agriculture and farmers' market
next week
. It's been a great month, but we need to finish up
strong
without any distraction. We'll split up as usual. René and Hector are on field duty again; Joey is with me back at the houses where we finished off yesterday.

“Vic and Rolo,” he said, pointing to a slender man who
kept his eyes trained on the ground and a shorter, squatter man standing nearby wearing a Fanta sweatshirt, “you're doing
the usual
. Ana, I want you to join them and grab a bucket from Manny. You'll be picking blackberries to start. I want to remind everyone that Manny's inspecting
throughout the day
, and I'll be on watch, so don't forget to drop off as you go, especially the berries. We had a considerable amount rendered unusable last week, so don't let your buckets get too full before coming in for packaging.”

This last bit of information was directed at Ana's group, who were wearing large cans strapped around their waists. They continued their expressionless stare in Emmett's direction.

“
¿
Comprende, amigas?
” Emmett said, attempting some Spanish. Ana tried not to giggle. She was sure Emmett hadn't meant to call them “girlfriends.”

“
Sí, señor
.” They both nodded with straight faces.

Manny approached the group and mumbled something Ana had difficulty hearing, but all of the workers nodded in unison before quickly dispersing across the fields. It reminded her of the games of touch football she'd been forced to play in gym class. How the teacher had gathered everyone around before barking out a bunch of plays only the boys seemed to understand. She'd listened, but somehow managed to score for the other team.

“We're good to go,” Manny said to Emmett. “I'll get her set up.”

“Ana, I want you to listen to everything Manny says,” Emmett continued. “Do exactly what he tells you to do. I know it's your first day, but it's best if you jump right in. Do you have a hat?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, it's right here.” Ana turned around to
show him Abbie's gardening hat, which should have been dangling from the cord around her neck.

“Is there something I'm supposed to be seeing?”

Ana clutched her collar.

“I thought I had it. I mean I put it on before I left the house, but maybe I left it at the table . . .”

“
¡
Aquí!
¡
Aquí!
” one of the workers shouted as he jogged over clutching the crumpled hat.

“There it is,” she said. “I probably dropped it.”

“Nah,” Manny interjected as he approached, thanking the much older worker he called René. “This is Dolly's work, no? I bet she grabbed it when you were down.” He smiled and dusted the hat off before handing it back to her.

El Perro de Peril, Ana wanted to say to him, imagining them all laughing along to the “crazy ol' dog” sentiment before going back to work and patting her on the back.

“Good to go then?” Emmett asked.

“Yeah. Yes, sir, Emmett.”

He clenched his jaw and shook his head before walking toward the tall white tunnels floating above a section of the fields. Ana turned to Manny and extended her hand.

“
Mucho gusto, señor
,” she said.

“
Mucho gusto
,” he responded, shaking her hand and smiling. “
¿
Habla español?
”