A Slow Burning Fire (8 page)

Hesitantly, he threw his fistful into the water and laughed as he watched the fish rush over to the new splay of food. “Those are some big fish. I'd say they're about twenty or thirty pounds in size at least. What do your parents do with them?”

“Beats me.” She shrugged. “They've been here ever since I can remember. A few of the neighbors used to fish out of the pond, but everyone knows my mom has a certain softness for them. If too many of them went missing, she'd be awfully sad. She's always had a thing for water life. I think they're her favorite of all the animals.”

He tossed more food into the pond. “Speaking of sad, you're not looking too happy at the moment.”

“Half tired and half worried. I was a little worried you wouldn't like it here and that it wouldn't live up to your expectations,” she said honestly. “When most people think of farms, they imagine large flowing fields and huge barns full of animals. That used to be home for me. Growing up, we had a lot more animals and more buildings. There was a chicken coop and everything. The memories are kind of vague, but I can tell my family was happier when there was more to take care of.”

“What happened?” he asked.

Arial sat down on the grass and watched him continue to feed the fish. Hugging her knees to her chest, she rested her head on them with a heavy sigh. “I got offered a part on the short-lived sitcom
Like That.
There were open auditions being held in Columbus, and I really wanted to give them a try. I performed in some school plays and thought I was good enough to get a part.”

“Cocky for being a little tyke,” he teased.

“I was nine. That's not a little tyke.” She scowled. Would he always think of her as nothing more than a child? She shook her head. “I actually didn't get the part. Not at first. The original girl they'd chosen backed out, and so had the one after that. I was about four girls down on their list. Finances were hard, and this was a huge opportunity for me. At the same time, I don't think my parents ever expected me to get a call back. You know what I mean? Like, they wanted to support my career, but never thought it would ever seriously take off. At least, not so young.” She picked up a nearby stick and tossed it into the pond. “It more or less created an overhaul for our lives. Mom came with me to L.A., my dad stayed home to take care of the land. We got an agent and all that good stuff.”

He nodded. “And the rest is history, right?”

“Basically,” she mumbled.

“And because your parents had to divide time to be with you, the farm started going under?”

“I think so.”

“Didn't your parents have anyone else to help? A staff? That kind of thing?”

She sighed and hid deeper in her knees. “At first they did. We were never a big successful operation. There were only a handful of other guys who helped out. Daddy has always been more interested in pursuing other avenues of business.”

“But he also loves the farm, right?”

“Right, and it's hard to let go of. This place represents a dream he once had that shattered long before I was born, but Daddy made an investment and loves it all the same. There is something relaxing and peaceful about having a cow in your backyard.” She cracked a small smile. This was the most she'd ever shared about her family life with anyone. The media had the bare bones story of her upbringing, and most of her friends back in California didn't have much interest in discussing the past. Everyone had something they wanted to leave behind. It was a respected unspoken rule.

Arial wasn't in California anymore, though. As long as Bryce was interested enough to ask, she would go out of her comfort zone to answer him. Talking about her past brought out a piece of her life she'd buried a long time ago. Guilt had plagued her for so long. A guilt that always resurfaced every time she visited the farm.

****

Bryce looked out across the pond at the two cows feeding on the long grass. When he glanced down at Arial, he noticed how sad she was. Setting the bucket of fish food aside, he sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “There is something nice about the cows, I agree. Something nice about this whole place. It would be hard for me to let go of it, too. So what does your family do to make ends meet?”

“Daddy works as a mechanic on farm equipment. He uses the big shed down that way to work on the machines.” She paused to point behind them. Sure enough, off in the distance he could see a large structure that he wouldn't have thought of as a shed. Maybe an airplane hangar or tractor barn.

“That's pretty cool. I like to work on cars,” he confessed.

“A plow is a lot different from a car. It’s more complicated. He does house calls too, since towing can be a pain in the butt. Even then, that business is starting to die off. More people are selling off their land as the city starts to expand. A lot of ours was purchased by rich families wanting to build fancy mansions as investment properties. The more people who build, the higher the value of the land starts to go and the town can grow. Which is a good thing.”

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “I sense a ’but‘ coming.”

She exhaled slowly. “It's that whole death of rural America thing. I'm not sure how to feel about it. Daddy complains about it a lot. How the next town over is getting big box franchise stores. Yet as much as he gripes about the whole thing, he shops there anyway because it's convenient and cheap. It's only a matter of time before more of those kinds of things come here, too.”

“And eventually, the small town flair will disappear.” Bryce could connect the dots. It startled him how passionately Arial talked about the whole thing — and how much sadness she expressed as well. “Don't tell me you blame yourself for all of this.”

Arial laughed, though it sounded rather sour to him. “I'm not that arrogant to think I've destroyed an entire town. Granted, my getting famous did get the world to realize it even existed. The occasional media attention it receives must do something for it. Expansion is a good thing as well, because while the small town flair is cute and charming, Gloriana could stand to catch up to civilization a little bit.”

“I meant your parents’ place,” he said in a smooth, calm tone. “Do you think if you had stayed, he wouldn't have had to sell so much of his land to the developers? That he'd have been able to realize his dream of being a successful farm owner?”

“Having to pay for my manager and agent did not help the financial situation. The money I was offered for my projects compensated a lot for all of that and then helped put the food on the table back home. My path has also kept my parents away from their own plans for a long time. You can't tell me that was fair of me to do.”

“They support you because they love you,” he said. “There was once a time when I wondered the same thing — if I was being more of a hindrance to my family than a help. After all, we had thousands of dollars’ worth of medical bills to pay on top of getting me set up. I may have not hit it big, and all that would have done is plunge my family deeper into debt.”

She gazed up at him, and her eyes were filled with tears. How was it possible for someone to have such a big heart? Even though he had a tragic tale on his journey to fame, not many had been moved to the point of tears by his stories.

Taking in a deep breath to shake away his own emotions, he continued. “The point I'm trying to make is that life is unpredictable. We never know what will happen. It's part of what makes life interesting, don't you think? Your family knows this, and they also know that just because their dreams didn't pan out like they expected, that doesn't mean yours can't. So even if it may have put them under at first, made things hard, it's got to be worth it to them. Otherwise I don't think they would have put so much effort into helping you succeed.”

“I know. Even if it doesn't always feel like enough,” she said. His arm was still around her.

Bryce gazed into her eyes. “Do you know?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I do know they did it because they love and support me. That doesn't mean there are no consequences.”

“I'm not sure I get what you're saying.”

“Did the fish get all of the food? If they're shorted, they'll get a little grumpy.”

Bryce sighed and pulled away from her. Slowly, he picked himself up off the grass and brushed off the dirt from his blue jeans. Disappointment filled him, resulting in an almost painful tightness in his chest. Why did she keep pulling away from him? Every time he took one step forward into diving deeper with her, she refused to keep moving. He'd wait as long as it took for her to get the courage to press onward with him. Hopefully by then he'd have an idea what to do with his feelings for her. The only thing he was sure about was that he wanted to know everything he could.

Picking up the ice cream bucket, he hurled the remaining pellets into the water. “All done. But this conversation isn't. I'm not going to push you, but I do want to understand.”

“Remind me later if it's really important for you to know,” she said, standing as well.

He spun the bucket in his hands, his gaze never leaving her. On his face was a wide, childish grin. “I'm not going to forget if that's what you're hoping for.”

She pressed her lips closed and walked around the pond to introduce him to the two cows her family kept. Arial ducked under the fence to get closer to the beautiful, black-and-white-spotted Holsteins. “This is Jojo and Pieces. Every year my parents get new cows to take care of. They arrive in the fall and leave at the end of the next summer.”

“Where do they go?” he asked. He followed her under the fence and reached his hand out to stroke the side of Jojo.

Arial petted the cow on the bridge of its snout. “The butcher. My parents pick one or two cows to take care of to help the neighbors out. In exchange they get a portion of the meat along with the money from selling the animals.”

“So you keep the cows, care and love them for a year, and then eat them?” He winced.

“Now you understand why I'm a sort of vegetarian. I can't stand the idea of consuming something that used to have feelings. Maybe cows aren't exactly sentient beings, but they're sweet. The fish, on the other hand, I'm not quite as emotionally attached to.” She gave the cow a soft pat on the side and giggled when it mooed. “My sister Caroline feels the same way as me. The others don't get quite as attached, and Daddy accepts it as part of the circle of life. I guess I'm just too soft.”

He shrugged and continued to stroke the soft fur. “There's nothing wrong with being soft. It's better than being too hard. I don't think anyone is offended by your not wanting to eat beef.”

“No, I don't think so either. When my parents talk about how California has changed me…” She shook her head.

“Ah, that conversation.” Bryce averted his eyes, gazing down to the hoofs of the cow, as if something down there was awfully interesting to see. There wasn't, only trampled grass, but he didn't want her to see how sad he was.

Even though he had grown up in California and had never moved away from the state, his brother said the same things to him as Arial's parents said to her. It wasn't the location that changed her; it was the job. And every time he heard those words fly from his brother's mouth: “You're just like the rest of those selfish snobs,” Bryce's heart broke a little more. What made it all worse was that he knew his father shared the same sentiments but was too passive to say as much. His father hated conflict. Discipline and bluntness had always been his mother's thing. A trait Bryce wished he had gotten from her. His brother certainly had.

****

Arial smiled softly, relief washing over her at the thought that she might not be as alone as she’d feared. “Yes, that conversation. There aren't a lot of people who see the truth, are there?”

“I don't think so.” He also smiled, his gaze lifting to meet hers. “It's good to finally be able to vent all of this out. You can't complain about the lifestyle back in L.A., because then you're ungrateful. Most people don't think that what we do is real work to begin with. I like to think we still change lives. We're still important. We offer people a chance to be heard, to not be alone, and to feel something different for a little while. That's why I do this.”

His reasons were far nobler than her own. “Sometimes, I'd rather not be myself. I guess you could say I escape with the fans.”

“There's nothing wrong with that either. If there was no need for what we do, people would be turning off the television, staying out of the theaters, and keeping their books on the shelves.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “If you've changed at all, I promise you it's been for the better. That doesn't make it easier to hear, I know, but whose opinion is more important anyway?” He winked, and she was sure he was teasing her, but it did put her at ease. Spending time with him, she was starting to realize more and more why entertainers needed to be around their own. They all shared the same joys and downfalls.

She chuckled quietly. “You are the only one that matters. You are the sun to my solar system. My entire life orbits around your very being.”

He nudged her. “Nerd!”

“You're one to talk!” She nudged him back. “In all seriousness, thank you. You're right, not many people want to listen. I've tried talking to my mom about all of this, and she only tells me I don't understand why she says the things she does, because I haven't been able to separate myself from the situation enough to agree. That makes me feel like I'm backed into some kind of a corner with only a handful of options — agree and get her to back off, or continue to fight about it.”

“Keep trying,” he urged. “They'll listen eventually.”

It sounded so much easier than it was. The whole reason she had agreed to stay for an entire summer was to prove her parents wrong. If she couldn't stand to be there without him, did that only prove them right? She should have felt happier about returning to the farm.

****

Arial walked back to the house after escorting Bryce to the Henderlites. It helped to clear her head from the swirl of confusing emotions inside her heart. The afternoon had opened up a lot of wounds she thought were soldered closed. All it took was one of his intense, passionate glances, and it was like a knife had ripped through the stitches she'd so carefully put in herself. Maybe that was her problem. Maybe she needed to open up to him more so he could help her repair her broken heart.