belonged there. Not in the way that it was where she’d grown her roots, but
in the way that she could put down fresh ones. Tiny ones. Infant ones that
would grow and be strong one day. She realized that it was possible for her
to enjoy two vastly different places and feel at home in both in totally
different ways. Kind of like it was possible for two vastly different people
to come together and find joy in their differences.
The breeze was barely there, but it tickled the hairs on Taylor’s
temple. The night smelled good. Not like the city. Not like strange,
manufactured scents of exhaust and tons of people and households. The air
at the farm was clean and fresh, with the sweet tang of the cows and the
pastures beyond.
“I know, my mom overdoes it,” Taylor said, turning her thoughts
back to the conversation. “She says because it’s natural soap it won’t dry
out the skin, but I don’t know…”
“Chloe loved it. There were bubbles all over the bathroom.”
“Mom spoils her.”
“She missed her.”
Taylor sighed. “I know. They both did. My dad too. They love Chloe so
much. She’s the most spoiled grandkid ever. Even though they don’t give
her lots of material things, they love her so, so much.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
A star directly overhead twinkled. It shone brighter than the rest. Taylor
never had been particularly good at knowing anything about the
constellations or the names of stars, but she loved just lying outside and
looking at it.
“No. But she’s going to be sad when we leave in a couple days and she
has to go back to sleeping in her own bed.”
Taylor’s mom had insisted that Chloe be allowed to sleep in their
bed, at least one night. Taylor relented, but only because her mom was
pretty shaken up about Chloe falling into the dugout. It was a tradition in