Bring Down the Stars

“Girl, why?” she said. “You have a perfectly good man, ready and willing.”

“If I sleep with him, I know what will happen. I’ll want more.”

“More what, exactly?”

“Everything.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know that I’m ready to jump in like that again. Or if Connor’s the one I should jump with.” I toyed with the stack of coffee filters on the counter. “I talked to my counselor on Friday. She spoke to the Dean of Admissions at Harvard.”

“What’s the dealio?”

“The absolute deadline for me to apply is next October.”

Ruby snorted. “That’s an entire year away.”

“Right,” I said. “One year to plan and execute an application project and write the paper to go with it. It sounds like a lot of time but it’s not.”

“It would probably help if you picked a focus.”

“Ya don’t say?” I sighed and hit the button to start the coffee brewing. “When I think about picking an emphasis, I feel like I’m abandoning so many other causes that need attention.”

Ruby rubbed her eyes. “Honey, there’s no shortage of problems that need fixing. You have to pull one of them close to your heart. That’s how you’ll make a difference.” She cocked her head. “How’s the farm doing?”

“Struggling,” I said. “We always are, to greater or lesser degrees.”

“Maybe there’s something there.”

“Maybe,” I said, with a pang of guilt. “I should pick something in agriculture or food systems, but…”

“But it doesn’t thrill you,” Ruby said. “Guilt is a terrible way to choose a career.”

“But it feels irresponsible to my family if I don’t.”

“Speaking of counselors and careers,” Ruby said, her finger tracing a line on our counter. “Mine told me I’m one step closer to getting my year in La Spezia. The study-abroad commission liked my work and it’s down to me and a few other applicants.” She grinned sleepily. “But I have a good feeling. One year from now I’m going to be on the Italian Riviera, in a cute little village on a beach, rolling in the surf with a hot Italian.”

“I like to keep my options open,” she said and yawned over a smile. “I’m hitting the sack.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “You’ll figure out your focus for your project. Make lists. Meditate. Hell, throw a dart and see where it lands.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing at Yancy’s every weekend instead of working.”

“Orgasms, too,” she tossed over her shoulder, pretending not to have heard me. “Great for decision making. Helps to relax.”

I laughed as she retreated back to her room. If Ruby were any more relaxed, she’d melt. I tried to remember the last time I felt truly relaxed and not stressed over work or my family’s farm, and couldn’t.

During my morning shift at the Panache Blanc, Edmond caught me worrying my lip and staring off into space between customers. He tugged at his mustache, looking at me thoughtfully.

“Ma chère, I would say you wear the face of a girl with two roads ahead of her and she does not know which one to take.”

I started to protest, then nodded instead. “You’re right. I have some decisions to make about my grad school application and…”

“And?”

“The boy I’m dating.”

I braced myself for Edmond’s reaction and had to laugh as he gasped and clutched his heart.

“I knew it. It is a matter of love.” He burst into pieces of a Puccini aria I’d heard before, and spun me around. “The grad school…” He made a sour face. “I am no help. But when it comes to love, I tell you what I know, ma chère. There are no decisions you make here.” He tapped his forehead. “There is only to listen to what your heart tells you.”