The Shape of Family Read online

  Micah smiled and grabbed a bag of rainbow carrots for his basket. “I’ll ask the others.”

  * * *

  When Karina showed up at the community garden on the third weekend in November, a dozen people were gathered there, the largest group she’d seen. Ericka, Jeremy, August and Zoe all greeted her with hugs, then Ericka linked her arm through Karina’s and introduced her to the others. There were several milk crates and plastic bins stacked in the center of the cluster of people and, oddly, Christmas music was playing.

  Micah stepped up onto a wooden bench. “What a beautiful morning!” He held out his hands toward the sky. “Today,” he continued, “is the culmination of many months of hard work. Today we harvest the crops we’ve been tending since September. Can you believe,” he said, spreading his arms wide and looking around, “that in September, none of this was here?”

  With a pang, Karina thought back to September, when she had made the drive from Los Altos down to Santa Barbara, anticipating her reunion with James. She swallowed hard and trained her attention back on Micah.

  “And now, we have zucchini, tomatoes, beets, Brussels sprouts, broccoli, and much more.” Micah looked around at the group. “Each one of these plants is here because you took care of it.” When he said “you,” his eyes met Karina’s. “You nurtured it, watered it, weeded it and helped it grow.

  “All endings turn into new beginnings,” Micah continued. “Today, we harvest our beloved community garden for the last time and transition our energies to the Sanctuary. After we celebrate and give thanks on Thursday, we will begin planting our new fields there Friday.”

  Karina’s parents had been asking whether she was coming home for Thanksgiving. When she was growing up, the holiday had been a muted affair with just their immediate family. There was no squeezing extra people around the dining table, none of the antics of a large, boisterous family coming together to fight over politics or laugh at old jokes. It was always a challenge to find a turkey small enough for just the four (or later, three) of them. Her mother hated leftovers, and all the small birds seemed to get bought up early, so she had taken to getting their turkey a month before and stowing it in the freezer, where it took up half the compartment. Karina and Prem would have an ice cream binge the day Mom brought home the turkey, to make room for the bird. That was often the best part of the holiday, and it was what Karina missed most about Thanksgiving after Prem died.

  Her father had insisted they celebrate the holiday together throughout Karina’s high school years, even coming over to the house with bags full of groceries after he had moved out. But somehow, with just three of them, something essential was missing, like the salt in their food. Her parents had perfected their menu over the years and took pride in the way everything tasted. But despite the creamy mashed potatoes with chives, the port-wine gravy, the delicate haricots verts with toasted almonds, the Thanksgiving feast had never quite managed to leave her satisfied.

  Karina didn’t have anywhere to go in Santa Barbara, but part of her didn’t want to mark the occasion at all, to feel the absence of what should have been there, like her tongue returning to a lost tooth. It was tempting to just stay in town to study and work. She knew she could pick up extra shifts at NatMark, since Thanksgiving week was busy.

  “So, grab a bin and let’s get started,” Micah said, clapping his hands together. There was a cheer from the crowd and a few claps.

  Karina wandered over to the bin holding work gloves and crouched down next to August, who was rummaging for a matching pair. “So August, do you live at the . . .”

  “Sanctuary?” He looked up at her. “Yeah, moved in about six months ago. It’s a beautiful place, truly.” August’s voice caught. “Sometimes, I think Micah saved my life with that place.” Before she could ask what he meant, Micah came over and gave Karina a warm hug in greeting, his arm lingering comfortably around her shoulders. “Want to work on the beets with me?”

  They knelt on the ground at two adjacent corners of the plot. Micah pulled up one of the plants by its greens, revealing a lumpy rose-pink bulb. “Candy-cane varietal,” he said. “Red-and-white striped inside. So beautiful when you slice it open.” He rubbed the beet vigorously against his shirt and bit into it.

  “So, you’re not going to be coming here anymore?” she asked, trying to filter the anxiety out of her voice.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Micah said, as he dug his spade into the soil to pry up another beet. “It’s exciting, what we have planned, Karina. Eight acres of beautiful land we’ve cleared and improved with soil amendments and fertilizer. There’s a well on the property we’ve hooked up to an efficient drip irrigation system, and we’re ready to start planting our first crops. At full production, we’ll have even more than we need, so we can donate to food banks.”

  She laughed. “A well? Where is this place, anyway? Out in the countryside?”

  Micah shook his head. “Rancho Paraiso, less than twenty miles from here,” he said. “Paradise Ranch, as named by the early Mexican settlers. Today, it’s a super-wealthy community with massive homes on huge lots, all geared toward maximum privacy.”

  Karina took a deep breath. “Actually, I . . . I’ll be here over Thanksgiving,” she said, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She held up a beet plant by its greens. “And I make a mean roasted beet salad.”

  “You know, it’s okay to feel that way,” Micah said.

  Karina looked at him, wondering at his meaning.

  Micah continued. “To not want to go home to your family. It’s okay. Thanksgiving is a loaded holiday. So many expectations about how you’re supposed to feel, how everything’s supposed to look, who’s around the table.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “You can join our family this year.”

  27 | karina

  NOVEMBER 2014

  The community of Rancho Paraiso featured single-lane roads winding through gently rolling hills surrounded with thick foliage. Every so often, there was a driveway leading to an imposing gate marked with pillars, but no houses were visible from the road. Eventually, Karina came upon the right address and followed a long gravel driveway, bordered on both sides by lemon trees. At the top, a roundabout with a tiered fountain sat in front of a sprawling two-story house with a four-door garage, where several cars were parked.

  Stepping out of her car, Karina tugged at the hem of the sweaterdress she’d chosen to wear with her favorite tall boots and approached the house’s towering front doors, thick slabs of wood against which her knuckles barely made a sound. The door swung wide open to reveal Micah, more dressed up than usual in a collarless long-sleeve white shirt and dark blue jeans. Karina held out the bunch of sunflowers she’d brought.

  “Karina.” Micah opened his arms wide and took a few steps backwards to allow her to enter. Behind him was an enormous picture window with a striking vista of the pool and gardens, with rolling hills in the distance. “Welcome to the Sanctuary, our little piece of heaven.” He took the bouquet with an appreciative bow and led her into the house. “Come on in.”

  They entered the largest kitchen Karina had ever seen, with an expansive island around the perimeter and a dozen people who were all working but greeted her warmly. Ericka wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and came over to give her a hug before returning to her green beans.

  “That’s Chef Guy at the stove, doing the heavy lifting,” said Micah, pointing to a plump black man in an apron.

  Guy smiled widely as they approached. “Salut, ma cherie,” he said in a distinct French accent as he leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks.

  “Can I help with something?” she asked, aware of the busy hive around her.

  Micah handed her a glass of white wine and gestured to a counter stool. “Relax a bit first. You’ve been running around all morning, am I right?”

  Karina nodded as she sat. “I helped open the store this morning. Feels good to get off my feet for a minute.” The wine was crisp, not too sweet, and made her feel very adult. The on
ly times she’d tasted good wine like this were when she had a few sips at special dinners with her parents. The kitchen was fragrant with pungent herbs, garlic and turkey roasting in the oven. Karina took in the scene: knives scraping against boards, people laughing and chatting as they reached past each other, mismatched aprons, and assorted wineglasses scattered along the long granite countertop. The space was filled with people who represented a mix of complexions and races. It felt messy and delicious and warm and festive.

  “When you’re done,” Micah nodded toward her glass, “I’ll show you around the property.” Karina warmed at the prospect of some time alone with him. She took one last sip and stood up. As they walked through the main hallway, Karina found herself continually surprised at the scale of the house: the ceilings were soaring; the dining room housed an enormous round table set for fourteen; the family room sported a television screen the size of her bed.

  When Micah led her outside, Karina averted her eyes from the swimming pool at the center of the backyard. She spotted a grove of lemon trees off to the side and detoured in that direction. “How many trees are there?” she asked, leaning closer to smell the fruit.

  “We have about a hundred left. We had to clear a lot of them to make space for all this.” Micah waved his arm toward the field of dark soil lined with irrigation tubes and pointed out where they connected to the underground well. “We’re almost finished with the composting system,” Micah said, leading her up a slope. “I want to put in solar panels on this hillside to generate all our electricity, but that’s a big investment—sixty grand—so I’m still trying to collect the money. Eventually we’ll be a closed loop system, taking nothing from the earth we don’t put back in some way. Imagine, if everyone lived like this, how many problems we could fix—climate change, water shortages . . .”

  “Did you know 70 percent of freshwater use is for agriculture?” Karina said. Her mind traveled back to the seminar that had brought her and James together, the hours they spent in the library poring over journal articles on drought, water delivery systems, desalinization plants. “And food production will need to grow by over 60 percent over the next twenty years, just to keep up with population growth?”

  “Yes, and that’s why what we’re doing here is so important. We’re creating a model that can be replicated in communities across the country, then around the world.” Micah pointed out to where the ocean was visible on the horizon. He leaned over her shoulder and she felt his warm breath on her neck. “You know the first time I saw the Pacific Ocean? I’d never been outside the Midwest, never seen anything but corn and wheat fields. Then I drove cross-country when I was eighteen in a beat-up Chevy Cavalier with no AC.” He chuckled. “And when I arrived in Santa Cruz, California, I thought I’d landed in paradise. I took off my sneakers, sat down on the boardwalk and dangled my feet in the water. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I belonged somewhere.” Micah smiled at her. “I tossed those sneakers in the trash can; I knew I was never going back.”

  “What did you do then?” Karina asked, trying to conjure images from her childhood visits to the Santa Cruz boardwalk with her family.

  Micah shrugged. “Odd jobs—construction, food service. My favorite was being a carnival barker on the boardwalk.”

  Karina laughed. “You were?”

  “Hey, I was good at it!” Micah touched her arm playfully as they continued walking. “I had a nose for those things. How to get someone to pony up for a prize: when a guy was trying to impress a girl, or parents needed a break from their kid.”

  “So, basically, you pawned off a lot of giant stuffed animals?” Karina teased him.

  Micah shrugged. “Once you understand what makes people tick, you can help bring them into brighter lives. If all human beings lived like that, the world would be a different place. One day, I was sitting on the beach in Santa Cruz, my bare feet in the sand, gazing out over the blue water, and I just had this vision of a world where every organism functioned together and every human being strived for full potential.” He looked wistful. “Ever since then, I’ve been working toward building a place like this.”

  “Have you looked at hydroponics?” Karina asked, excited. “I could show you a few things we set up at the Botany Lab if you want to try them in a greenhouse or indoors.”

  “That’s exactly the kind of expertise we need.” Micah smiled at her as they came upon a large screened shed, a chicken coop with a dozen birds clucking about inside. He stopped and turned to her. “Let me ask you something, Karina. Are you satisfied with your life right now, truly satisfied?” Micah looked directly in her eyes. “Do you feel like you’re living up to your highest potential? Are your relationships meaningful? Is your work rewarding?”

  The mention of relationships turned a wrench in her stomach. Karina considered her answer. She enjoyed her job at NatMark and she was good at it, but was stocking potatoes meaningful work? She thought of her father, who worked all the time, who prized work above leisure time and hobbies. But her father believed in work of the mind; she knew he would be dismayed at the thought of her doing manual labor over advanced calculus.

  “I . . .” Karina hesitated, unsure how to admit what felt like a weakness. “I don’t think so. I feel like I’m just going through the motions, but I’m not sure what it’s leading to. I think . . . I hope . . . there’s more out there.”

  “There is,” Micah said in quiet declaration. “There is, Karina.” He handed her a wire basket and opened one of the henhouse doors, where two pale blue eggs sat nestled in the straw. “Sitting in a classroom can feel good, but reality is very different than school. The opportunity to make an impact is right now, every day, in the way you live and work.” He placed one of the eggs in her open palm and she felt its warmth. After collecting a dozen more, they continued walking down the path and through the grounds, as Micah pointed out the sand volleyball court, putting green and tennis court. They approached the horse facilities and were greeted by the familiar smell that took Karina back to visiting the stables with Izzy.

  “Isn’t he a beauty?” Micah said as they reached the stall that housed a stately chestnut horse. “He’s a rescue. I took him in after the wildfires last summer displaced a lot of large animals. Unfortunately, no one here knows much about horses. But I did get him this guy for company.” He pointed to a black and white goat in the neighboring stall.

  Karina stepped up on the railing and held the back of her hand out below the horse’s nostrils for him to smell her. She was captivated by the enormous eyes that gazed serenely at her, and in that moment, she felt a strong pang for Izzy. She wanted to call and tell her all about meeting Micah, the community garden and her new friends. But their calls had trailed off over the past couple of months, mostly because Karina couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Izzy the full truth of what had happened that night with Henry. She had gotten as far as telling her she’d been with a guy, the first since James, and it hadn’t felt right, only made her sad. She was too ashamed to admit the rest, and ever since then, the thought of talking to Izzy, who knew her so well and would know something was wrong, became harder and harder to deal with.

  “He likes you,” Micah said, as the horse nuzzled her hand.

  “What’s his name?” Karina stroked the side of his head.

  Micah shrugged. “You want to give him one?”

  “He needs a good brushing.” She ran her hand over the tangles in his mane and the matted nap of his coat. “If you have brushes, I can do it.”

  Micah laughed. “Okay, I’ll find a brush for your next visit.”

  Karina looked over and smiled, comforted by the thought of returning. She stepped down off the railing and gave the horse one last pat on his elegant neck.

  “We’re planning to have cows too,” Micah said, as they walked away. “Fresh milk, maybe cream and butter. Have you ever tasted the fresh stuff?” He shook his head. “So good.”

  When Micah turned and began walking toward the house, Karina voic
ed a question she’d been holding on to for some time. “August said you saved his life. What did he mean by that?”

  Micah watched the ground as he walked, his hands tucked into his back pockets. “We all have demons, Karina. Every one of us. We all have something that haunts us, that prevents us from reaching our true potential. I just helped August untie himself from those demons. He might be grateful, but I only showed him the way. He did all the hard work. Any of us can have that.” He stopped and turned to her. “You too, Karina. You can do extraordinary things with your life, if you choose.”

  Karina nodded as he spoke, intrigued by a future where she could be free of her own demons, the shame she carried for wrecking her family and her body. What might she achieve if she could leave behind all the terrible misjudgments that led to Prem’s death, James’s betrayal, the incident with Henry? She allowed herself to imagine this as she and Micah walked in silence back to the house.

  * * *

  There were eighteen of them for Thanksgiving: twelve people who lived in the house and six others, including Karina, who didn’t. Some of the guests, she learned, were surfers from a beach that Micah and August patronized. A couple of others had a fresh juice stand at the farmers’ market nearby. The atmosphere in the house was joyful and relaxed, and the buffet was abundant, with at least two dozen dishes: Thanksgiving favorites like stuffing, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie, as well as less traditional options. Chef Guy had baked a tarte tatin instead of a traditional apple pie, Zoe had made Cajun-style red beans and rice, and everyone cheered when Ericka pulled a pan of Korean short ribs from the oven, still sizzling. As Karina made her way through the buffet line, she noticed a bowl of cumin-spiced roasted cauliflower, which reminded her of one of her mother’s Indian dishes.

  Micah stood in the archway between the dining and living rooms, where they all sat, and spoke about how deeply moved he felt to be building a new type of community that reflected their values. He said a few words of appreciation about each person present, then held up his glass toward Karina. “And I want to thank Karina for joining our family today. She is incredibly knowledgeable and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. But, most of all, she has a beautiful energy that’s wonderful to be around.”