Taste: A Love Story (34 page)

Chapter Thirty

K
ara spent the last few weeks at the beach collecting glass and reviewing a few local places Olivia asked her to try out once she heard Kara was in Malibu. Kara agreed to a couple, but she was mainly trying to finish the last piece of her feature. The other two had been well received and she wanted to finish strong. The last piece was interviewing Logan’s father and getting pictures of Ryeland Farms.

Kara drove up to the farm all the way from the beach and immediately felt the weight as she met Logan’s father at the door. She told herself she had a job to do and she was going to get it done. She had sent Jeremy and his crew to the barn because she wanted some pictures of their rooster and the other gorgeous chickens they had in their coop. Kara had no idea chickens could be so beautiful and healthy.

During the tour, Kara loved watching the animals. There were two goats and the most adorable baby piglets. Herbert Rye explained that the litter had been recently weaned and he was feeding them twice a day. He asked Kara if she wanted to feed them and she found that she did. Her family had a Yorkie when she was growing up, but other than that Kara had not been around animals. With Mr. Rye’s help, she fed the piglets. It was amazing and her cheeks hurt from smiling by the time they were done. A little over an hour later, she sat at an outside picnic table with Logan’s father, running down a list of her remaining questions.

“You’re saying that today’s chickens aren’t the same as they used to be?”

Herbert smiled and Kara could see where Logan got his charm. “Very little in today’s food production is like it was thirty years ago. Our country produces far too much food. Cheap food that is inhumane. It’s downright wrong. Did you know that chickens mass-produced by these giant farms are bred for their breast meat? They’re so top-heavy they can’t even stand up. That’s not a life,” he explained and Kara agreed.

“So what is working?” she asked.

“Local farms. Places even smaller than our farm are popping up all over the place. People, all different ages, different walks, are choosing farmers markets and grass-fed beef. People are educating themselves and like Maya Angelou says, ‘Once you know better, you must do better.’”

Kara smiled.

“I watch a lot of Oprah,” Herbert continued. “Logan says I watch too much, but her show’s on when I break for lunch. Smart woman, that Oprah.”

“That she is.” On that note, Kara asked a couple more questions about their dairy cows and she was done. “Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Rye.” She packed up her things.

“You’re very welcome, my dear. Thank you for taking the time to listen.” He took her hands. “My kids always tell me not to butt into their lives, but when I see something that isn’t right, I can’t help myself.”

Kara started to tell him he didn’t need to say anything, but he continued.

“He’s the best man, but he’s been taking care of everyone else for so long that he’s forgotten how to take care of himself. If he watched more Oprah, he would know that. She talks about self-care all the time.”

Kara laughed because she was pretty sure she was in love with two Rye men at this point.

“I know. I’m sure he will figure it out.” Kara looked into his eyes and knew where Makenna got hers.

“He loves you,” Herbert said as she turned to walk away. “It’s something I’ve never seen before, pretty powerful stuff, so I’m not counting you guys out just yet.”

Kara turned back and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. Let’s hope you and Oprah are right.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. Then she left him before she crawled into his lap and asked him to make everything better.

As Kara threw her bag into her car, Logan’s truck pulled up and parked across from her. She found herself in a weird limbo where she wasn’t sure if she should get into the car or stand there and wait for him to get out. She decided to wait. She was finished hiding at this point. She was ready to live her “authentic life” as Herbert and Oprah said.

Logan turned off his truck, sat there for a minute, and wondered how strange it would be if he just drove back home without getting out.
She must be here to finish her article.
He’d forgotten about the damn thing while he was trying to forget about her. His heart was racing, but he pulled it together and stepped out of the truck. She was standing outside her car as he approached the gravel path that led to the barn. His heart pounded in his ears and he knew if he could only get through this, make nice, and move past her, things would go back to normal. He needed normal at this point.

“Kara.” That’s what he went with. Her name. Simple.

“Logan.”

Shit, and the volley began.

“You get what you needed from Dad for your article?”

“I did, thanks, he was very helpful. Sweet.” Kara tried to smile. She caught his eye and he felt like he was going under.

The pause was painful. She shifted on her feet and then put her hand on the door to her car.

“Let me know how it goes.” His mouth must have been on autopilot because he wasn’t sure where the hell that last thing came from, but he was pretty sure he should brace himself for Kara’s return.

“What? Let you know how what goes?”

Logan shook his head and backed up. “I don’t know what I’m saying, Kara, okay? This is awkward. I’m glad you got what you needed and have a safe ride back.”

“Fine.” Kara opened her car door.

Logan walked past her.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not the one hiding this time. I’m not letting my parents, or how I was raised, dictate my future. I’ve figured myself out. This one is all on you.” She slammed the car door.

He never turned around. He simply stood there with his back to her because the truth was he was scared to death. He wasn’t going to be able to give her what she wanted, but he hadn’t been able to find his way back to having order in his life without her either. So he was just going through the motions until something clicked. Today he was here to work and help his dad out. He knew how to do that, so he would work himself to exhaustion and hopefully collapse into a dream state that for once didn’t include Kara’s face, her body, or that laugh.

Makenna was in the kitchen when Logan walked into the house.

“I’m making lunch. Do you want a sandwich?”

“No.”

“Coffee?’

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Logan grabbed a cup. “Where’s Dad?”

“He and Garrett just left on the quad. Said they would be right back.”

Kenna sat down at the table next to him.

“Remember when Dad got that peanut butter grinder at a garage sale?”

The caffeine from the coffee was setting in and Logan smiled.

“Yeah, and he made like twenty jars of peanut butter a week and read all of the health benefits to us.”

Kenna laughed. “God, to this day I can’t eat peanut butter. Peanut butter and bananas, peanut butter with pickles, it was crazy.”

“It was,” Logan said. “What made you think of that?”

“I was making my sandwich and thinking about how you used to make our lunches.”

Logan looked at her.

“They were good lunches, always on the counter when I came out for breakfast. You must have gotten up early to make those.”

“Nah, you just got up late.”

“Well, either way, it’s a nice memory. Being in this kitchen brings back so many great memories, ya know?”

“I do. We have a lot of great memories here, Kenna. I’m glad our lunches are one of yours. I liked making them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That I messed up and told Kara about Mom. I should have picked up on it and left her where you wanted her, dead.”

“First of all”—Logan stood to get more coffee—“it’s not your fault. I should have been honest. I don’t want Mom dead, it was just easier than explaining.”

“I know, but you and Kara can get over this, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think so. I’m just—I don’t know what I am. I want to go back to the life I had before I bumped into Kara again. Things made sense, and now they don’t.”

“What if she needs you though?”

“She doesn’t need me. Believe me, she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Kenna got up and put her plate in the sink.

“We’re all capable of taking care of ourselves, Lo, but sometimes it’s nice. It’s better when someone else makes your lunch, you know?”

Logan nodded. He couldn’t say anything past the lump in his throat. His heart hurt for Kenna sometimes. Christ, was everyone in this house watching Oprah?

“Anyway”—she walked toward the door—“I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough to lie with you.”

“That’s okay.” Logan turned to her, but Makenna was gone.

“She was sorry she wasn’t fast enough to lie with him.” That’s what it was, wasn’t it? No matter how he tried to move things around, he had lied to Kara. “Own it,” Garrett would say, “once a liar, always a liar.” He was in no position to point fingers.

Chapter Thirty-One

“I
need your opinion.” Kara opened the front door to Jake standing with his yoga mat slung across his chest.

“Well, hello to you too.” He walked in and tossed his stuff on the round black chair by Kara’s entryway. “Do you have any coffee?” he asked on a huff and even as Kara ran back to her bedroom, she could tell something was wrong.

“French press in the kitchen. Are you all right?” Kara yelled from above in her bedroom.

The upstairs of the house was open to the downstairs, so Jake grabbed a cup, the coffee press, and took a seat at her dining room table.

“Oh God, I need my yoga today. My chi or whatever the hell that woman calls it, is blocked.” Jake sipped his coffee. “Can you hear me up there?”

“Yes, your chi is blocked. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, stupid really. What kind of opinion do you need?”

“Your fashion opinion.”

“Oh, so because I’m gay and married to a man named after a damn textile, my fashion opinion matters? I suppose we, the collective gay ‘we,’ all know about women’s clothing, manscaping, and Cher? Well, I’ll have you know that I’ve never manscaped a day in my life. I mean, sure I trim, but every man trims. Even the almighty heterosexual, he trims.”

Kara, pulled a light cover-up over her tank top and slowly walked over to the half wall of her bedroom. She looked down at Jake who was now violently flipping through the paper.

“Jake, honey?” she said gently, because she had never seen him so upset.

He glanced up, tears welling in his eyes. She walked down the stairs, took him into her arms, and he started to cry. She held him until he pulled back, quickly wiping his eyes.

“This is so stupid. I shouldn’t be crying, but I get so damn tired sometimes.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Jake sat back down and Kara joined him.

“The Strickland School, they won’t let Eloise in.”

“What? I thought she was a shoo-in? References—and her tests. What happened?”

“Her father and I happened, that’s what happened. We got the rejection letter in the mail yesterday and I called to find out why, you know? What went wrong? The woman in admissions told me on the phone that they didn’t think Eloise was the right ‘fit’ for Strickland and that the children at their school were more ‘traditional.’ She paused before saying ‘traditional.’ The bitch paused, you know how uppity meanies do when they want you to understand that traditional means much more than just the word?”

“Yes, I do. I’m very familiar with uppity meanies. I’m sorry.” She touched his hand.

Jake let out a breath of what seemed like resignation. “I’m just so tired of this. I get that we’re not the norm, but we live a life like every other family. We have a house, we raise our daughter who we fought tooth and nail to even get. There’s a whole group of people who would have rather seen Eloise raised in foster care than by two gay men.”

“I know, but she’s yours, Jake, and no one can take that away.”

“But there’s always more and more damn hoops. What am I supposed to tell her?” He started to tear up again, but dismissed it with a quick swipe of his hand.

“Jake, you’re going to tell her what every parent tells their child when the world isn’t fair. You’ll tell her she’s brilliant and wonderful and that sometimes people can’t get out of their own way.”

“Is that a Nanaism?” He smiled through his tears.

“Sure is. I’m telling you the woman was brilliant.” She leaned over to hug him. “It’s going to be all right. Not right this minute, but eventually.”

“I know. Now, what was your fashion question?”

“Oh, well, it’s not important now.”

“Yes it is.” He went up the stairs to her bedroom.

“And for the record, I ask your opinion because you’re a good dresser. Do I even need to say that to you?” Kara asked.

“Oh, I know. I was just practicing my righteous indignation. Cotton thinks we should sue the damn place. I’m working myself up into the angry gay man.” He laughed as they walked through the glass front door of Kara’s bedroom.

Kara gestured to the bed. “Well, what do you think?”

Jake ran his hands along the material. “Silk?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gorgeous. A bit of a departure for you, but I’ll bet Logan will love it. It’s gorgeous, honey.”