California(77)

He told her about helping Rachel in the garden. “She told me the Vote is public,” he said. “Did you know that?”

Frida seemed to think about this. “I guess so. I assumed it would be.”

“Really?” Cal raised an eyebrow at Sailor. “Even at Plank, the controversial topics were voted by secret ballot.”

Dave looked stunned, and Sailor gave him an appeasing look.

“We wouldn’t know,” Sailor said. “During our tenure, there was never a controversy we had a say in.” He paused. “The school closing was never up for debate.”

“I didn’t know you guys went to Plank,” Frida said. She turned to Cal, as if to say, Why didn’t you tell me? She didn’t look angry, just surprised.

“You’re such a f*cking big mouth,” Dave said to Sailor, who grinned.

“Keep thinking that, my friend,” he said.

“Is it a secret?” Cal asked.

Sailor frowned. “The recruiter said no one would care where we came from. And that’s turned out to be sort of true.”

“Until now,” Frida said, and reached out to push a lock of hair out of Cal’s eyes.

Cal turned to Dave. “So if a bunch of you are Plankers, why not do things the Plank way and allow everyone to cast their decision privately?”

“Why?” Dave asked, eyebrows raised. “Are you assuming it’s a controversial topic?”

“Yeah,” Frida said, turning to Cal. “You think too highly of us, babe.”



When they were alone on their walk back to the Hotel, far from anyone who might hear them, Cal told her to keep her pregnancy a secret. “Micah asked us to,” he said.

He was surprised that Frida didn’t protest, though he didn’t say so. Instead, he began to tell her about his trip to the tree house. He waited for her to say that she’d been there, too, but she didn’t. She didn’t speak at all. It seemed so easy for her, to not tell him things.

He asked her if she felt different, now that she was pregnant. She just shook her head.

“Peter and Micah are looking for confirmation, I guess.”

“So you want me to start barfing?”

He shook his head, and then nodded. She laughed, and relief moved like sunlight across his body. “You seem really happy today,” he said finally. “Just now, when I saw you there, with Sailor.”

“Anika knew Jane,” she said.

“What?”

“Sandy had Jane on the Land.”

“Are you sure?”

Frida nodded. “It’s happened before, Cal. There’s been a baby here.”

She took Cal’s hand and squeezed it three times, as if she were sending him a message.

“If it happened once,” she said, “that means it can happen again, don’t you think? Maybe that’s what Micah and Peter were getting at. We just have to wait until we’re fully accepted here.”

They had almost reached the Hotel, where people were milling about. On the porch, a man was strumming a guitar with only two strings; Cal had learned his name yesterday but had already forgotten it.

“Frida,” Cal whispered. “Be careful.”

“Of what? Smolin, with his ballads?” She nodded at the man with the guitar.

Cal couldn’t believe Frida was being so blind, but he didn’t want to worry her or crush her hope. It was probably keeping her spirits up. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say, which was that she might be wrong. Even if Anika was telling the truth, it didn’t necessarily bode well for him and Frida. Sandy Miller might have had Jane on the Land, but Jane wasn’t raised here. And what about Garrett? The Millers had left this place: that was the point. Now Cal and Frida needed to find out whether they had done so by choice.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she said. After a moment she added, “Are you really joining Micah in the mornings now?”

“How does everyone know? This is why we can’t tell anyone you’re pregnant.”

“It’s true, then?”

He nodded. “I’ll be on the inside, Frida.”

“Try to hide your boner.”

He ignored her. “I’ll find out what happened to the Millers.”

“Sure you will,” she said, and raised an eyebrow.

They were almost to the porch, and Frida was waving at one person and then another, like a beauty queen on a parade float.

“You must be happy about the Plank contingent,” she said.

“It kind of weirds me out, actually. What did they think they were coming out here to do?”





15



The cold weather had snuck up on her. Frost lay on the field every morning, and one night, hard rain pinged off the Hotel roof. The next day, the construction team had nailed boards across all the glassless windows on the Land. Now the Hotel was dank and fortresslike, Frida and Cal’s room simultaneously stuffy and cozy, especially when they were falling asleep. “At least it’s not freezing in here,” Cal said.

Frida preferred the Hotel kitchen to anywhere else. Not only was it the warmest place on the Land, but she could also still look out the windows and watch the sky turn lighter and lighter as she worked. Once the sun rose, they had to stop baking and start Morning Labor, but she didn’t mind. She was just happy to be able to walk down the Hotel stairs in the morning before anyone else did, pondering the tasks ahead and wondering if what she made would taste as good as what she’d served the day before. She had a reputation to uphold. After the first morning with the clafoutis, Anika had given in and allowed her to bake bread.