“We need to get back,” I say. “I shouldn’t be in here with you.”
“Right,” he says, taking a deep breath. “You’re a beautiful woman, Kyra. Jacob is lucky.”
“Nancy is lucky, too,” I say. “I hope she knows that.”
He gives me a half smile of resignation, of acceptance of a path not traveled. “My turn to hit the head,” he says, going down the hall to the bathroom.
Back in the dining room, Nancy and Jacob are in deep conversation. Nancy is completely focused on Jacob, clearly taking delight in his presence, while Jacob taps his fork on the tablecloth, looking distracted. He looks relieved when he sees me, but he gives me a questioning look.
“Are you going to make a go of it on your own?” Nancy is saying. “Raise poultry or livestock?”
I sit next to Jacob. “Um, no,” I say. “We’re going to plant a garden.”
“Oh?” Her brows rise. She stabs a potato with her fork. “Where will you get your meat? Fishing?”
“I’m a vegetarian,” I say.
“We’ll figure it out,” Jacob says.
“You’re a gardener, then?” Nancy says, pressing on.
“Not exactly,” I say. “But I’ll give it a try.”
“She’s an excellent gardener,” Jacob says. He rests an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t remember—you took up container gardening and developed an interest over the last couple of years.”
“I did? Well.” I laugh, a little nervously. “I guess I did.”
“Do you grow starters in a greenhouse?” she asks.
“Greenhouse?” I say. “We don’t have a greenhouse.”
The toilet flushes down the hall. I hear the water running.
“We’re going to pick up some plants from the nursery and start that way,” Jacob says. “In the old garden.”
“The old garden!” Nancy says, chewing her potatoes. “I remember that garden. We had a lot of fun there.” She gives Jacob a knowing grin.
Van comes back in and sits down, making a sour face.
“We did have fun,” Jacob says.
“Oh, what did you two do . . . in the garden?” I say.
“We stole carrots,” Jacob says, downing a gulp of his beer.
“And put them back in the soil,” Nancy says. “Half eaten.”
“We pulled all the rhubarb and ate it with sugar—”
“And the berries, lots of berries,” she says.
“Those were the days, huh?” Van says in a flat voice.
Nancy’s smiling at Jacob, smiling at the past. An invisible wall goes up between Van and Jacob, a palpable tension in the air.
“His mom chased us out of the garden more than once,” she says. “We thought we were sneaking but somehow she knew.”
“My mom had a sixth sense,” Jacob says. “We must’ve aggravated her no end.”
Nancy sips her wine. “She was always laughing. Your mom had a beautiful laugh.”
“She did,” Jacob says. “So does Kyra.”
Van’s lips are turned down at the corners, and he’s picking at his food.
Nancy seems to stare into the past. “We did have a good time back then. You know that old, beat-up Ford we used to hang out in? It’s gone. Someone must’ve hauled it out of the woods and used it for something.”
“Oh?” I say, looking at Jacob. “What beat-up Ford is this?”
Van clears his throat. “It was some old rusted heap of metal someone illegally dumped in the woods here. How they got it out there, nobody knows.”
“We used to pretend it was a spaceship,” Nancy says. “Jacob was the captain. He was always the captain, no matter who played with us.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say.
Nancy reaches for a plate of wild rice pilaf. “He was so good at creating this whole universe out in space.”
“And who were you?” Van says.
“I was his first officer,” she says. “But come to think of it, why didn’t I ever get to be captain?”
“I was better-trained,” Jacob says smoothly.
“No, it was because you always insisted on having your way,” she says.
“It worked out,” he says.
“Well, you can’t have a ship here,” Van says. “You would need communications. We’re off the grid.”
“We didn’t need the grid back then,” Nancy says. “But I wouldn’t mind being a little more connected now.”
“We do fine,” Van says. “We’re not the only island off the grid. Look at Lasqueti. Ninety miles from Vancouver with no connection to BC hydro. Solar panels for heat, fireplaces, water from a stream.”
“We choose the life we want,” Jacob says. “We make our own world here.”
“You’re an expert at that, aren’t you?” Nancy says. “Weren’t you a hacker? It makes total sense that you would become one.”
Jacob’s face flushes. “Not a hacker.”
“Computer whiz, then. Creating worlds for video games.”
“I started with video games a long time ago. And then—”
“You were a hacker?” I say, elbowing him.
“I was employed by a security company to prevent hacking. There’s a difference. I helped protect consumers. I built a business on protection.”
“But aren’t identity thieves getting more innovative?” Nancy says. “The only way to protect ourselves is to stay offline.”
“You’ve got a point,” Jacob says.