![\"Finding](\"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/02\/Finding-the-Way.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nOn a cold morning, nine days before Thanksgiving, on the far northern coast of California, nineteen-year-old Tober Quincy stands behind the checkout counter in a big store known as Good Used Stuff, two miles inland from the mouth of the Eel River.<\/p>\n
Tall and handsome, with long brown hair in a ponytail, Tober is friendly and thoughtful with a wry sense of humor inherited from his mother and an endearing curiosity about everyone he meets. He has been employed at Good Used Stuff for three years and works thirty hours a week as both a clerk in the store and as a maker of tables and chairs in the Good Used Stuff woodshop. He likes his job, though more and more lately he\u2019s been thinking about shifting entirely to freelance work as explicated on his most recent business card.<\/p>\n
October \u201cTober\u201d Quincy<\/em><\/p>\n Composer * Violinist * Carpenter * Gardener<\/em><\/p>\n Fruit Tree Pruner * Collector of Special Stones<\/em><\/p>\n Reasonable Rates * Inquiries Welcome<\/em><\/p>\n Until three months ago, Tober lived with his brother Augie, who is younger than Tober by a year, and their mother Sharon, who is forty-two, in a farmhouse at the end of Snake Creek Road, the nearest town Fortuna, ten miles away. Then in August, Augie moved to Portland, Oregon to attend graduate school in Clinical Psychology at Oregon Health and Science University; and when Tober and Sharon returned from helping Augie get settled in Portland, Sharon decided to begin the process of adopting two young sisters, Amelia, five, and Consuela, four, something she\u2019d been considering since attending adoption workshops in June.<\/p>\n Tober is excited about Amelia and Consuela joining the family and he\u2019s looking forward to helping them adjust to their new lives on Snake Creek Road, though the addition of two little girls to the household means he will be vacating his bedroom\u2014the only bedroom he\u2019s ever known\u2014and moving into the low-ceilinged attic, which is not an ideal bedroom for a person six-foot-three.<\/p>\n Thus he is planning to build another house on their ten acres, though he isn\u2019t sure how big a house to build. What if Augie decides to come home after his three or four years in Portland, or sooner if he changes his mind about becoming a psychotherapist? What if he, Tober, wants to get married and have children? Should he build a cottage that can be expanded into a larger house, or two separate expandable cottages, one for him and one for Augie?<\/p>\n As if this weren\u2019t enough upheaval for one brief stretch of a person\u2019s life, Tober is now six months into his first relationship involving sex. His girlfriend Annie is twenty-three and lives in Fortuna where she is a waitress at Double D Steakhouse<\/i> and shares an apartment with a hairdresser named Tiffany. In his six months as Annie\u2019s official boyfriend, Tober\u2019s mad love for her has inspired him to write fourteen love songs, two sonatas for piano and violin, one sonata for violin and guitar, and dozens of love sonnets.<\/p>\n Annie, who is always hip to the very latest celebrity gossip and spends hours every day perusing Fashion magazines and Fashion web sites, is forever telling Tober how much she loves him and wants to marry him and have at least two children with him. When she\u2019s not working at Double D<\/i>, Annie likes to smoke pot, watch television, text and talk on her phone, go barhopping with Tiffany, and have sex with Tober.<\/p>\n When Tober is with Annie, he can\u2019t take his eyes off her, and when they\u2019re apart he can\u2019t stop thinking about her.<\/p>\n But wait, there\u2019s more. Not only has Sharon decided to adopt two children, but six weeks ago she abruptly ended her two-year relationship with Maybe, the owner of Good Used Stuff, which has made the last several weeks at work for Tober quite the emotional challenge.<\/p>\n And so\u2026<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n On this cold November morning, nine days before Thanksgiving, Tober is standing behind the checkout counter near the front door of Good Used Stuff, re-reading a long handwritten letter he got yesterday from Augie asking him to come to Portland and visit for a few days, after which they will return home together for Thanksgiving.<\/p>\n Now a familiar engine sound of a car in need of a new muffler causes Tober to look up from Augie\u2019s letter and gaze expectantly at the front door until it opens and Annie hurries in accompanied by a blast of frigid air.<\/p>\n Tall and buxom with golden blonde hair, her mother Swedish, her father a big guy from Montana, Annie is wearing blood-red cowboy boots, hip-hugging blue jeans, and a red jacket over a tightly-fitting pink T-shirt with the words EUREKA<\/i> writ in large red caps on the gossamer fabric directly over Annie\u2019s breasts.<\/p>\n \u201cHey darlin\u2019\u201d says Tober, coming out from behind the counter to embrace his beloved.<\/p>\n \u201cHey,\u201d says Annie, holding up her hand to stop him from coming any closer.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d asks Tober, obeying her signal.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m\u2026\u201d She looks away from him. \u201cI can\u2019t do this anymore. You and me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t do what?\u201d he asks, bewildered.<\/p>\n \u201cBe with you anymore,\u201d she says, still looking away. \u201cI\u2019ve been sleeping with other guys for the last couple months.\u201d She shrugs. \u201cMaybe a few months. I didn\u2019t want to. I mean\u2026 I wanted to, but I didn\u2019t want<\/i> to want to.\u201d She sighs. \u201cI tried not to, but I couldn\u2019t stop myself.\u201d Now she looks at him. \u201cI really wanted to make it work with you, but we\u2019re just too different.\u201d She grimaces. \u201cYou\u2019re like from another planet, Tober. Where they don\u2019t have phones or televisions or modern anything. I mean\u2026 no offense, but most of the time I don\u2019t have the slightest idea what you\u2019re talking about. It\u2019s like you\u2019re from King Arthur or something.\u201d She looks away again. \u201cBut I\u2019m really<\/i> gonna miss fucking you. Sex with you was like way<\/i> the best I\u2019ve ever had.\u201d She looks at him again. \u201cI\u2019m not just saying that. You\u2019re amazing. But what I\u2019m not<\/i> gonna miss is feeling like an idiot for not knowing what a sonnet is or a sonata or physics or history or\u2026 whatever.\u201d She glares at him. \u201cI need to feel good<\/i> about myself. Good about who I am and what I like to do. Which is not what you like to do. Except the sex. But it just wasn\u2019t enough anymore, you know, to like\u2026 bridge the gap. So now I\u2019m gonna go. Have a good life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n Never in his nineteen years has Tober gone into shock, but now he does; and the next thing he knows, he finds himself sitting in an armchair by the woodstove in the northwest corner of the enormous store, having no memory of traversing the forty feet from the checkout counter to the stove through a maze of furniture and tools and statuary. Nor does he remember sitting down or how much time has passed since Annie came and went.<\/p>\n He is roused from his torpor by Maybe coming in the back door and tromping to the stove to get warm. Maybe is fifty-years-old, not quite six-feet-tall, with longish brown hair and a lopsided mustache. He is wearing a purple wool cap pulled down over his ears, a puffy orange jacket, baggy brown trousers, and black boots, his face creased with worry.<\/p>\n Tober very much wants to tell Maybe how strange he feels and how Annie\u2019s coming and going was so much like a dream he wonders if it was<\/i> a dream, but before he can say anything, he realizes Maybe is speaking to him.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026so I think it would be better if you didn\u2019t work here anymore until I get over what your mother did to me, if I ever can. I hate to do this, Tober, but every time I see you all I can think about is her saying she doesn\u2019t want to be with me anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait,\u201d says Tober, frowning at Maybe. \u201cAre you firing me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wouldn\u2019t call it that,\u201d says Maybe, shrugging. \u201cI\u2019m asking you to quit so I won\u2019t have to fire you. I mean\u2026 you know I like you. You\u2019re one of the finest people I know. And you\u2019re a wizard at selling things and making things and finding stones and\u2026 but I thought your mother and I were gonna get married, and now she won\u2019t even talk to me. And I need to stop thinking about her. It\u2019s killing me.\u201d He grimaces. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Tober. I just\u2026 I need to recover.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you still want to buy stones from me?\u201d asks Tober, sadly amused that he would ask Maybe about stones at a time like this.<\/p>\n \u201cOh definitely,\u201d says Maybe, nodding. \u201cBut have Titus bring them in, okay? So I don\u2019t have to see you and remember how one day we were planning the wedding and the next day she wouldn\u2019t talk to me. Like I was nothing <\/i>to her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat isn\u2019t how it was, Maybe.\u201d Tober gets up from the chair. \u201cYou guys talked for days and days after she told you. And you called her every night for two weeks, and you came over when she was giving lessons and refused to leave, refused to let her do her work. You need to be honest with yourself about this, Maybe, or you\u2019re never gonna get over her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut she\u2019d never tell me why<\/i>,\u201d says Maybe, crying. \u201cShe just kept saying it wasn\u2019t what she wanted, but she wouldn\u2019t say what she did <\/i>want, so there was nothing I could do, nothing I could change so she would want me again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n Titus Troutcatcher, Tober\u2019s mentor and friend and chosen grandfather, is a Wailaki healer and counselor. Titus is eighty-five and lives with his wife Tina in a little house in the forest about a mile inland from Good Used Stuff. He doesn\u2019t charge for his services as a healer and counselor, yet he makes a decent living because the people who come to him show their gratitude with money and gifts.<\/p>\n Tober drives his white electric pickup truck through a light rain to Titus\u2019s place and finds Titus standing at the bottom of the front stairs, looking gigantic in his long gray coat as he throws a tennis ball for Spider and Feather, his longhaired Chihuahuas.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought I might see you today,\u201d says Titus, greeting Tober with a strong embrace, his voice pleasantly gruff. \u201cThought I heard you calling me about an hour ago. What was going on?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d says Tober, already feeling better now that he\u2019s with Titus, \u201cAnnie came to the store and told me she\u2019d been sleeping with other men and didn\u2019t want to be with me anymore, and then Maybe asked me to quit because every time he sees me, he thinks of my mom. Then he gave me a thousand dollars severance pay. And now I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWant some chili?\u201d asks Titus, nodding encouragingly. \u201cMade with fresh venison. Horace Waterfall shot that young doe couple days ago. You know the one. She kept jumping his deer fence and eating those late yellow apples. Horace gave us a rear haunch. Tender. I think all those apples she ate made her extra sweet. Tina made her chili yesterday. Pretty spicy, but delicious. Come on in. Get warm.\u201d<\/p>\n They climb the four steps to the front porch of the little pink house and go inside, the dogs rushing in ahead of them. They take off their coats and Titus puts a log of pine and a log of oak on the spluttering fire, and the flames grow large.<\/p>\n While Titus heats the chili and makes toast and coffee, Tober squats by the fire and gazes at the glowing embers and wonders why today of all days he lost both his lover and his job.<\/p>\n \u201cTina\u2019s in Fortuna,\u201d says Titus, stirring the pot of chili. \u201cAt Teresa\u2019s. Might spend the night over there. Her night vision isn\u2019t so good anymore. She shouldn\u2019t drive after dusk. Her great grandson Lawrence, you remember him. He\u2019s six now. Has that big gap between his two front teeth. Red hair. He\u2019s in a school play today about vegetables. He\u2019s a carrot. Type casting. I was gonna go but I woke up this morning feeling like I should stick around here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m glad you did,\u201d says Tober, smiling.<\/p>\n \u201cSo\u2026 Maybe let you go,\u201d says Titus, nodding. \u201cYou were ready to stop working there anyway, weren\u2019t you? That was a good first job away from home for you, but now you can go freelance like you\u2019ve been wanting to. It\u2019s a sad situation, him pining for your mother, but now you\u2019re free. Sometimes we need a push to leave the nest, and he gave you one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTrue,\u201d says Tober, adding another log to the fire. \u201cIt was time for me to go.\u201d<\/p>\n A silence falls, both of them thinking about Annie and what they might say.<\/p>\n \u201cSo\u2026\u201d says Titus, tasting the chili. \u201cAnnie. Beautiful woman. Every time I see her I think of Vikings. You know? A Viking princess. Only without the helmet with the horns. Did you want to marry her?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought I did,\u201d says Tober, nodding. \u201cBut I think that was only because she kept saying how much she wanted to marry me and have children and\u2026 I wanted to make her happy. But the truth is, I never really could imagine being married to her, sharing a house and doing chores together and taking care of kids and animals and\u2026 never could imagine that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you do together when you weren\u2019t having sex?\u201d Titus fills two big bowls with chili and carries the bowls to the kitchen table. \u201cIf you don\u2019t mind my asking.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t mind,\u201d says Tober, who has never had any secrets from Titus in the twelve years they\u2019ve known each other. \u201cWe\u2019d go to the beach when it was sunny and she\u2019d sunbathe and use her phone while I searched for stones and\u2026 she liked to go out for breakfast, and sometimes we\u2019d go to pubs and\u2026 but I guess we mostly just hung out and\u2026 you know\u2026 enjoyed being with each other.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you do when you just hung out?\u201d Titus takes the toast out of the toaster oven. \u201cWhen you weren\u2019t having sex?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell\u2026 she would watch television and send messages to her friends on her phone and read Fashion magazines and smoke pot. She smoked pot pretty much all the time when she wasn\u2019t working. Said it relaxed her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you smoke with her?\u201d asks Titus, carrying the toast and butter to the table.<\/p>\n \u201cA few times,\u201d says Tober, nodding. \u201cBut it\u2019s too powerful for me. Even just one little puff and I can barely move because I\u2019m so overwhelmed by the enormity and complexity of even the smallest thing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, marijuana is a powerful teacher,\u201d says Titus, nodding. \u201cI don\u2019t recommend it for recreational use.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wouldn\u2019t either,\u201d says Tober, shaking his head. \u201cBut she smokes all the time and it hardly seems to effect her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe more a person uses,\u201d says Titus, filling the dogs\u2019 bowl with kibble, \u201cthe more they need to use to get what they\u2019re after. Euphoria.\u201d He gets two big mugs out of the cupboard. \u201cSo what did you do while she was smoking pot and watching television?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d read and write letters and compose and draw and\u2026 like that.\u201d Tober frowns. \u201cAre you implying we weren\u2019t a good match?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I was just asking,\u201d says Titus, filling the mugs with coffee and bringing them to the table. \u201cLet\u2019s eat.\u201d<\/p>\n They sit opposite each other and share a moment of silence.<\/p>\n \u201cDid Annie teach you how to please her?\u201d Titus sips his coffee. \u201cSexually?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d says Tober, blushing. \u201cAnd though I have no one else to compare her to, I dare say she was a very good teacher.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m glad to hear that.\u201d Titus chews thoughtfully on a chunk of venison and thinks of the two women who taught him the ways of love when he was Tober\u2019s age. \u201cDid she show you more than one way to please her?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMore ways than I ever imagined.\u201d says Tober, laughing.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you like pleasing her?\u201d asks Titus, nodding hopefully.<\/p>\n \u201cMore than anything,\u201d says Tober, his heart aching.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s how it was for me, too, when I was nineteen.\u201d Titus smiles. \u201cNothing else could quite compare.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd that changed when you got older?\u201d asks Tober, his eyes full of tears.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d says Titus, nodding. \u201cWhen I was in my thirties, thirty-three or thereabouts, after my first child was born, that\u2019s when singing and dancing and healing people and teaching the children about the natural world became as satisfying as sex, but in a different way. A spiritual way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess I sometimes feel just as satisfied when I\u2019m playing my violin or singing or walking in the woods.\u201d Tober smiles through his tears. \u201cBut I\u2019ve never felt so wildly<\/i> good, crazy good, as when I made love with Annie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, crazy good,\u201d says Titus, laughing. \u201cThat\u2019s a perfect thing to call it. Wildly good. Crazy good. So\u2026 was it ever wildly good for both of you at the same time?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d says Tober, his tears flowing.<\/p>\n \u201cWhich means her body and her physical energy were good matches for your body and your physical energy.\u201d Titus smiles reassuringly. \u201cAnd just think, October. The next time you make love with a woman, you\u2019ll be able to please her because of all the wildly good things you learned from Annie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d says Tober, using a napkin to daub his tears. \u201cThough I\u2019d rather keep pleasing her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course you would,\u201d says Titus, nodding. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean it isn\u2019t sad she doesn\u2019t want to be with you anymore. I just wanted to remind you that you learned valuable things from her, things most men never learn. And in my experience, men who don\u2019t know how to please women sexually don\u2019t make very good husbands.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut why did she have to sleep with other men?\u201d asks Tober, closing his eyes. \u201cWhy would she say I was her one and only and she didn\u2019t want anybody else but me, and she wanted to marry me and have children with me if it wasn\u2019t true? Why would she lie to me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe slept with other men because it excited her to deceive you.\u201d Titus looks out the window as the rain turns to hail. \u201cSome people need to feel they\u2019re doing something forbidden to get excited. And there are many men and women who find it thrilling to deceive their wives and husbands. I\u2019ve known men who can only get aroused when they have two women in their bed, and I\u2019ve known women who only get excited when they have two men.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt the same time?\u201d asks Tober, making a horrified face.<\/p>\n \u201cOh yeah,\u201d says Titus, nodding. \u201cSome people only get excited when their partner ties them up, so they\u2019re helpless. Can you imagine? Being excited by feeling helpless? Excited that someone has that kind of power over you and might hurt you? It\u2019s true, October. Some people only get aroused when their partner says nasty things to them, and some people only get aroused if the person they\u2019re with is a stranger.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d asks Tober, gaping at Titus.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause everyone is different,\u201d says Titus, tapping the table four times. \u201cYou and I might think everyone should want what we want, and behave as we like to behave, but they don\u2019t. Each person is unique and became who they are through the particular experiences of their lives and the things they learned from others.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut why did she keep saying I was her one and only?\u201d asks Tober, his heart aching. \u201cWhy did she keep saying she only wanted me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think she kept saying that so her deception would be even more of a betrayal.\u201d Titus has another sip of coffee. \u201cBetraying you was exciting for her. I\u2019m sorry to tell you this, but that\u2019s how some people are.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut why? Why would she want to betray me when all I ever did was love her?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps she was jealous of you. Jealous of your talent and your confidence and happiness, jealous that you were a man and have power and freedom she doesn\u2019t feel she has.\u201d Titus crosses his hands over his heart. \u201cBut she loved you, October. As best she could. Only her love wasn\u2019t strong enough to overcome her addictions and the ways of behaving she learned from her mother. But never forget that when you made love with her, she was giving you a gift and you were giving her a gift. And you are both stronger now for the gifts you gave each other.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n Tober gets home at three that afternoon, a hard rain falling, and finds his mother carrying things out of his bedroom and piling them in the living room.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re home early,\u201d she says, surprised to see him. \u201cEverything okay?\u201d<\/p>\n Sharon is five-foot-three and slender with high cheekbones and brilliant blue eyes and lustrous brown hair that falls to her shoulders. She is reflexively friendly, but reticent about being physically affectionate, even with her close friends and her sons, which is something she would like to change about herself.<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe asked me to quit today, so I did,\u201d says Tober, looking over the things his mother has brought out of his bedroom\u2014clothes and books and blankets and a guitar case and two wooden boxes full of ocean-polished stones. \u201cAnd right before that, Annie told me she doesn\u2019t want to be with me anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Tobe,\u201d says Sharon, going to him. \u201cI thought this might happen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhich?\u201d asks Tober, laughing. \u201cThat he\u2019d fire me or she\u2019d break up with me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBoth,\u201d she says, giving him the briefest of hugs. \u201cI\u2019m surprised he kept you on as long as he did.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy did you think Annie would break up with me?\u201d He gazes at her expectantly. \u201cIrreconcilable differences?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh Jean said she saw Annie with some guy in a pub in Eureka a couple weeks ago.\u201d Sharon winces. \u201cI was going to tell you, but then I thought it wasn\u2019t any of my business, so I didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wonder why you didn\u2019t think it was any of your business,\u201d says Tober, looking at the piles of his things again. \u201cAnd why are you moving everything out of my room? I thought we weren\u2019t getting the girls until January. Isn\u2019t that what you said you wanted to do? Wait until Augie went back to Portland after Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did say that,\u201d she says, collapsing on the sofa, \u201cbut I changed my mind. The place they\u2019re staying is so crowded and understaffed and\u2026 I want them here now.\u201d She starts to cry. \u201cThey need to be here, Tobe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go get them right now,\u201d he says, sitting beside her. \u201cI\u2019ll finish emptying the room when we get back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe can\u2019t get them until tomorrow morning,\u201d she says, weeping. \u201cAt ten.\u201d<\/p>\n He wraps his arms around her and holds her as she cries, and when she tries to pull away as she always does after a few seconds, he holds her a while longer and she finally relaxes and enjoys his embrace.<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n When Sharon and Tober finish dusting and vacuuming and mopping the now empty bedroom, they have supper and make their plans for tomorrow.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll buy two new single mattresses on the way there,\u201d says Sharon, having a glass of red wine with her spaghetti. \u201cAnd we can put their beds side-by-side if they want to sleep together, or apart if they don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe should take both trucks,\u201d says Tober, visualizing the trek to Eureka. \u201cThat way I can stop and get lumber on the way back and the girls can both sit with you without one of them having to sit on my lap. Since they don\u2019t know me very well, we don\u2019t want to freak them out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood idea,\u201d says Sharon, starting to cry again. \u201cThank you so much for helping me with this, Tobe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not just helping you,\u201d he says, shaking his head. \u201cThey\u2019re joining the family. They\u2019re not replacing me and Augie. Are they?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, of course not,\u201d say Sharon, sniffling back her tears. \u201cThey\u2019re joining us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd in a few days, when the dust settles, I\u2019ll zoom up to Portland and get Augie.\u201d Tober smiles at the thought of seeing his brother. \u201cBring him home for Turkey Day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s dying to come home,\u201d she says, relieved to have cried. \u201cI\u2019m sorry about your job, Tobe. I just couldn\u2019t pretend anymore that Maybe was going to turn into someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI hope you didn\u2019t stay involved with him just so I wouldn\u2019t lose my job.\u201d Tober considers this possibility. \u201cDid you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d she says, shaking her head. \u201cI stayed involved with him because I wanted to see if I could outlast my tendency to end relationships after a couple years, because that\u2019s what I do, or whether he and I really were incompatible in too many important ways.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wonder if a musician can ever be compatible with a non-musician,\u201d says Tober, thinking of Annie who played no instrument and seemed ambivalent about the songs and music he wrote for her.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d says Sharon, swirling her wine. \u201cI\u2019ve never been involved with a musician, but now that you mention it, that was a big disconnect with Maybe, though certainly not the biggest.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was the biggest?\u201d asks Tober, wondering if it had something to do with sex. \u201cIf you don\u2019t mind telling me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I don\u2019t mind,\u201d she says, finishing her wine. \u201cWould you pour me a little more, please?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut of course Madame,\u201d he says, filling her glass<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not sure I can put this into words, but\u2026\u201d She muses for a moment. \u201cWell the girls, for instance. When I told him I was thinking of adopting a child or two, he gave me this skeptical look and said, \u2018Why would you want to do something like that?\u2019 The implication being that there was something suspect about my wanting more children, that they would somehow be a negation of him, a diminishing of his importance in my life. And I realized that his notion of a relationship was one in which your mate should always be the primary focus, not the family, not the community, but only your mate. Whereas my notion of a relationship is an alliance within a larger family and community.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n After supper, Tober carries the vacuum cleaner up the narrow stairway to the attic to get the space ready for his things; and when he bumps his head on the low ceiling four times in the first five minutes he\u2019s up there, he turns off the vacuum cleaner and comes down the stairs into the kitchen where Sharon is sitting at the counter having a cup of tea and making a shopping list for tomorrow.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not gonna live up there, Mom,\u201d he says, taking a sip of her tea. \u201cI can\u2019t stand up straight without bashing my head. I\u2019m gonna call the Bernsteins and see if I can sleep down there until I figure out where next to lay my head.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTake my bedroom,\u201d says Sharon, anguished about dislocating Tober, especially with everything else he\u2019s going through. \u201cI\u2019ll sleep in the attic.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, you need to be near the girls,\u201d he says, picking up the phone. \u201cAnd as you may recall, the first time you floated the idea of adopting a child or two, George and Lisa both said I could stay at their place if it got too crazy up here. Besides, they\u2019re hardly ever there now that Cecily and Felix have moved to LA and San Luis Obispo.\u201d<\/p>\n He punches the number of their closest neighbors\u2014the Bernsteins having built their house on Snake Creek Road twenty-two years ago, three years before Sharon moved into the farmhouse when she was seven months pregnant with Tober.<\/p>\n Cecily, George and Lisa\u2019s daughter, is a year older than Tober and was his childhood pal and first crush. She lives in Los Angeles now, pursuing a career as an actress. Felix, George and Lisa\u2019s son, is Augie\u2019s age and matriculated at Cal Poly a year ago.<\/p>\n George, fifty-seven, an investment broker turned artisan furniture maker, answers his phone on the second ring. \u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHey, George, it\u2019s Tober. Got a minute?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, yeah. What\u2019s going on?\u201d George grew up in Los Angeles, the child of Chicago Jews.<\/p>\n \u201cThe big news up here is we\u2019re picking up Amelia and Consuela tomorrow morning and they\u2019ll be taking over my bedroom, so I was wondering if\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d says George, excitedly. \u201cMove down here. We\u2019d love it. We\u2019ve got three empty bedrooms and Lisa\u2019s gone half the time now at the beck and call of her royal highness, who, as you know, has been on the verge of stardom for six years. And counting. Be that as it may, I\u2019d love<\/i> for you to live here. Come on down.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, George,\u201d says Tober, gratefully. \u201cI\u2019m gonna sleep in our living room for the next couple nights until the girls get settled, and then I\u2019m driving to Portland to get Augie for Thanksgiving, and he and I may both<\/i> crash at your place, if that\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAbsolutely,\u201d says George, ecstatically. \u201cCan you hear Lisa shouting hurray<\/i>? We\u2019re leaving for San Luis and LA next week and we\u2019ll be gone all through December and into New Year\u2019s, so\u2026 you know how to get here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n Sharon gets home with Amelia and Consuela at noon the next day, and Tober arrives an hour later with the new mattresses and lumber for building platforms for the mattresses, the platforms to have drawers underneath for the girls\u2019 clothes and toys and extra blankets and whatnot.<\/p>\n Amelia, five, the older of the two sisters, is shorter and stockier than four-year-old Consuela, who is quite tall for her age and very slender. They both have shoulder-length black hair and big brown eyes. The people at the adoption agency believe the girls\u2019 mother, a prostitute who went by the name of Candy, was part Latina, part Anglo. Amelia\u2019s father was Mexican and Consuela\u2019s father was African American. The girls have been in foster care since their mother died when Amelia was four and Consuela was three. The whereabouts of the fathers is unknown.<\/p>\n Tober enters the house and finds Consuela and Amelia and Sharon sitting at the kitchen table having blackberry smoothies and bowls of rice and vegetables. Both girls are wearing dark blue sweatshirts and gray pants and brown shoes, and both are chattering away in Spanish with Sharon, who is fluent in that language.<\/p>\n When the girls see Tober, they fall silent and look down, wary of making eye contact with him.<\/p>\n Sharon gets up from the table, takes Tober\u2019s hand, looks at the girls and says in Spanish, \u201cAmelia? Consuela? You\u2019ve met my son Tober. He\u2019s your brother now. He\u2019s a very nice person and he speaks some<\/i> Spanish, but you must help him learn more Spanish words and he will help you learn more English words.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHola Amelia,\u201d says Tober, smiling at the little girls. \u201cHola Consuela. Welcome home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGracias,\u201d says Amelia, taking a peek at Tober.<\/p>\n \u201cHola,\u201d whispers Consuela, still not looking at him. \u201cHermano.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n The girls take an immediate liking to the big farm dog Igor, a sixty-pound Black Lab Australian Shepherd mix, and Igor seems delighted with them. Consuela especially loves the dog and asks Sharon if she may give him some food. Sharon explains that they feed Igor in the morning and late afternoon, but not in between, and they never feed him from the table during breakfast or lunch or dinner.<\/p>\n Consuela ponders this information and looks into Igor\u2019s eyes. \u201cWhen it is time for you to eat,\u201d she says, petting him, \u201cI<\/i> will feed you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n Having located a cache of Augie and Tober\u2019s childhood jackets, and confident Amelia and Consuela are dressed warmly enough for the bitter cold, Sharon and Tober and Igor give the girls a tour of the immediate vicinity of the farmhouse\u2014the dormant vegetable garden, the orchard, the old barn, the woodshed, and the chicken coop wherein Amelia finds one egg and Consuela finds two.<\/p>\n \u2206<\/p>\n In the late afternoon, after Amelia and Consuela have had a nap on their new mattresses, George and Lisa come up the hill to meet the newest members of the Quincy family. Lisa presents the girls with two big bags full of clothing\u2014dresses and shirts and coats and pants that Cecily wore when she was four and five and six.<\/p>\n When Sharon explains to the girls that these clothes are theirs to keep, they take turns choosing an article of clothing and solemnly carrying it into their bedroom where Consuela puts her choices on one of the mattresses and Amelia puts hers on the other. The first thing Amelia chose was a shimmery red skirt, Consuela\u2019s first choice a black long-sleeved T-shirt.<\/p>\n When Tober tells George about his plan to build platforms for the beds with drawers under the platforms, George insists Tober avail himself of George\u2019s state-of-the-art woodshop.<\/p>\n And when Tober shows George his design for the platforms, George says, \u201cHey why don\u2019t I help you with this? I\u2019m in between projects. We could knock this off before I leave for LA. Be fun working together, don\u2019t you think?\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0 \u00a0fin<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" On a cold morning, nine days before Thanksgiving, on the far northern coast of California, nineteen-year-old Tober Quincy stands behind the checkout counter in a big store known as Good Used Stuff, two miles inland from the mouth of the Eel River. Tall and handsome, with long brown hair in a ponytail, Tober is […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[5377,5379,5358,5376,5383,5378,5375,5335,5041,5177,5374,5384,5380,84,5354,77,79,4419,235,5359,51,5175,5381,5382,881,5337,5357,5373,9,33],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2930"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2930"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2930\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2936,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2930\/revisions\/2936"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2930"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2930"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2930"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}