Page 19

Story: As It Was

“And so did Wren,” I replied. “Look at how many houses have been built there in the last few years.Two.And they took forever to sell.It’s a small town, Trevor. Bulldozing farmland with a history to it and building a hundred houses isn’t the way to do it.”
“You’re sentimental.”
“And you’re not listening to me.” I let my desperation seep into my voice. I needed him to listen this time. Just this once.
“If you keep it, it’ll just sit there forever.”
“It’s still good land. Maybe I could run it like Bennie used to and stay here.”
He rolled his eyes. “You can’t even focus in a meeting, Mollie.”
“Because I’m thinking about things like this.”
“There’s nothing to think about. Sell it. Bulldoze it. Moveon.”
“But that’s not what I want to do.” My voice climbed higher in pitch. I didn’t fight him onanything.Why couldn’t he let me have this? Just one compromise so I could remember that he cared about me.
“I don’t care about what youwant.Obviously, you can’t see sense on this. I care about getting the money so we can buy our dream home.”
His response hit me like a ton of bricks.“I never called it that.”
“You don’t know what your dream is.”
“Actually, I do. And it’s Papa Bennie’s home.”
His eyes cut to me, and he slowly stood. “Excuse me?”
“Trevor, the house wasbeautiful.The land was nearly endless. He made a living off of it for over fifty years. It has space, character, and?—”
“Who cares? It’s not in the place we want to be. You can’t work in marketing and have a farm.”
“What if I could?”
“You don’t know the first thing about that kind of life.”
“I could learn.”
His voice grew deeper and louder. “And how would you keep your job? Working from home? In the middle of nowhere? You have a life here. A good one that people would kill for. And you want to addfarmingto it?”
“I do.”
“Mollie,no!”he snapped. He took a step toward me. “We’re selling that land, and it’s final.”
I retreated a step, but straightened my spine. “It’smyland.”
“And I’m gonna be your husband. Therefore, it’ll be mine. And I know you better than you know yourself.”
My voice shook as I let my rising frustration break free. “You don’t know anything.”
“I do. You’re about to turn thirty, and you’re flailing. You’re scared to do anything, so you think running will help you. It won’t. You think it’s bad here? You won’t fit in there either, because for some reason you have fancy ideas thatnobody wants.”
“Iwant them.”
“And you’ll fail. And then you will have left behind your mom and dad, who care about you, to do something there’s no way you can do.”
His harsh words felt like a punch to the gut. “But what if it makes me happy?” I asked. “Don’t you want that for me?”
“If it means you’re covered in dirt and in the middle of nowhere? No, Mollie. I don’t.”

Table of Contents