hungry.
Almost there.
Dean turns the rental car onto the long stretch of road leading toward a cluster of buildings nestled near a swathe of artichoke fields and orchards. My body tightens with anxiety as we get closer. It looks the same, of course, though there’s a new building near the garden. A few trucks are parked outside the garage, their beds loaded with wooden furniture.
“Is this a farm?” Nicholas asks.
“Sort of,” I reply. “There are a few cats, chickens, and goats, but no horses or cows or anything. People just live and work together here. I stayed here a couple of times when I was younger. It’s a very special place.”
“I like goats,” Bella remarks.
After Dean parks the car and we all get out, I inhale a deep breath of the delicious air, feeling like it’s flooding my veins with renewed energy. After a lengthy lecture about precautions, Dr. Anderson gave me his blessing for this week-long trip to Santa Cruz, especially since the chemo drugs I’m on now have a milder effect on my system.
Dean had been harder to convince, but after he researched “travel and chemotherapy,” and drove Dr. Anderson crazy with questions, he’d agreed that getting away would be good for us. Especially getting away to Twelve Oaks, the place where goodness is part of the earth.
I shade my eyes from the sun and look toward the main building. Dean comes around the side of the car, his gaze scanning the landscape. Already there’s less tension in the set of his shoulders.
“This is beautiful,” he says.
I slide my hand to his lower back. “I’m so glad we came.”
The door to the building opens, and a medium-height man with a gray-streaked beard and long hair pulled back into a ponytail approaches. Happiness lights inside me as I start toward him, even as my anxiety intensifies. My friends at home have gotten used to me looking so different, but I haven’t seen North or anyone at Twelve Oaks in ages and—
“Come here, Liv.” North strides toward me, his arms outstretched and a wide smile splitting through his beard.
Every fear and insecurity falls away the instant his arms close around me. Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks, but for the first time in a long time, they are tears of happiness. I hug North with all my strength, feeling as if the embrace alone can—and will—sustain me.
We ease back at the same time to look at each other. Gazing at North’s weathered face and into his warm brown eyes, still so familiar and dear, is like remembering only the good parts of my past. He reaches up to put his hands on the sides of my head.
“Welcome home, Liv,” he says.
I smile through my tears, a smile that feels like it comes from deep inside me.
“Thank you. I’m so glad to be back.”
The sound of Bella laughing finally prompts me to ease away from North and turn toward my husband and children. Dean is standing a short distance away, keeping an eye on Nicholas and Bella. He approaches us with a smile.
“How’ve you been, North? It’s great to see you again.”
“Likewise, my good man.” North puts his hand into Dean’s, and they pull each other into an embrace that includes a bit of manly backslapping. “Really glad you both made it back here. Asha has you all set up in the house, if you want to get settled in.”
We turn to the car as Nicholas and Bella come running up, after having chased a skittish kitten around the side of the garage. They met North in France, but don’t remember him well. I reintroduce them, and North gives Nicholas a handshake and tells Bella he hopes she’ll help him in the flower garden.
As we walk toward the main house, the children dashing ahead of us, I feel the magic of Twelve Oaks taking effect, wrapping around my family like the comfort of my old quilt.
Giving us back to ourselves.
Though things have changed at Twelve Oaks over the years, the rhythm of the place is the same. The residents all have job assignments and work shifts throughout the day, the children are either home-schooled or leave each morning for local public schools, and there is a constant, easy flow of activity like a river.
Everyone greets us with warmth and a genuine sense of welcome—there are about six families whom I remember from my time here over fifteen years ago, and new groups of people treat us like old friends.