wanted to see what I’ve been missing out on all these years.”
“Most people would say you’re not missing out on much,” I tell her.
“But not you?” She doesn’t sound surprised.
I toss the strips of steak onto the hot skillet and stir quickly until the sizzling abates. “I don’t think anyone goes into farming to become famous.”
“Why did you become a farmer?” she asks, sounding genuinely interested.
“My grandpa taught me and my brother all about the land. He’d take us camping and make us trap or scavenge for all of the food we’d eat. He taught us to respect the earth and the processes of it.”
She doesn’t respond right away, so I continue, “I became enamored by the idea of putting a seed into the ground and watching it produce food. By the time I went to college I knew I was going to major in agriculture.”
“You have a farming degree?” she asks, sounding surprised.
“There’s a lot to know in order to become a successful farmer.” I sound butthurt, like she thinks my chosen profession is one for stupid people.
My face must say it all, because she quickly adds, “I didn’t mean to be insulting.”
“Why didn’t you go to college?” I ask her. That was one of the many things I found out when I looked her up online.
“Because when I was the age most kids are heading off for university, I was walking runways in Paris and shooting makeup campaigns. If I’d taken time off to go to school, I would have been walking away from my career at its peak.” She informs me, “Actors often go to college, but with models we have such a short window of time to capitalize on our looks. We’ve got to work while we’re young.”
“You could have gone later,” I suggest.
“I guess so, but I would have wanted more than just an education. I would have wanted the same kind of experience that normal kids got to have, which would have meant going at the same age they did.”
“So, you went to culinary school,” I say, stating the obvious. “How did they treat you?”
“Suspiciously, at first. No one could figure out what I was doing there. But after several weeks of proving my intentions, they eventually treated me the same as everyone else.”
We prepare the rest of the meal working quietly together. When I was a teenager, I never spent much time imagining what Tara Heinz was like as a person. I’m happy to find out that she seems a lot deeper than I would have expected a supermodel to be.
Chapter Eleven
Gwen
Gwen’s seatmate on the airplane is dressed casually, but nicely, in black slacks and a soft pink sweater. She’s reading a People magazine when she turns to Gwen and says, “I think Tara Heinz looks a lot better now that she’s put on a few pounds. What do you think?”
Gwen practically chokes on her response. “I don’t know who that is.” Her voice falters as she swallows a mouthful of air. Hiccups ensue.
The woman shows her the magazine open to a collage of her daughter’s most famous ad campaigns. Next to those is a picture of her coming out of Le Deux Langues wearing jeans and a t-shirt with the words “Go Away” written across the front.
“Pretty girl,” Gwen says, trying to keep her voice steady.
The woman eyes her closely and says, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like an older version of her?”
“No,” Gwen hurries to answer before resting her head against the side of the airplane and pretending to sleep for the next ninety minutes to avoid further conversation.
Tara
My bedroom is similar to that of my childhood boudoir. Both rooms look like the chintz fairy threw up all over the walls. While I find the familiarity soothing, I’m glad the wallpaper colors here are a relaxing sage green, with ivory and coral accents instead of the pretty-in-pink extravaganza I used to have. On bright days I used to find it helpful to wear sunglasses to avoid the glare.
Lying in bed, I think about James Cavanaugh. I’m not sure what to make of him. We had a genuinely nice supper together the other night. We mostly talked about the garden and a little about the lodge. But as soon as we were done eating, he cleared the dishes, washed them, and took Penny home.
I saw him the next morning when we met with his mom, but I haven’t laid eyes on him since. That was two days ago. I