Free Ana of California by Andi Teran Page B

holder, and a half-eaten bar of baking chocolate melting on the dashboard next to
Crystal Visions—The Very Best of Stevie Nicks
. She smiled to herself. “The yin and yang of siblinghood,” she thought, remembering the scene in Emmett’s truck—so much similarity in the differences.
    They made their way out of the farm and down the road, passing dainty Victorian houses with manicured yards. If Ana had to pick a favorite, Garber Farm would win, she thought, and not just for the wildness of its surroundings, but also for its restrained authenticity. “The farm is so different from the rest of the houses,” she said.
    â€œWell, we’ve been here a little longer. But yes, we Garbers have always embraced subtlety over ostentation. Believe me, when I was your age, I would have killed to live in one of these houses. One of my childhood friends did.”
    â€œI bet the lawns are full of forgotten Easter eggs and polka-dot horses out in back.”
    â€œYou might find a few.” Abbie laughed. “Most of these folks are grandparents, or great-grandparents.”
    â€œDid you ever want kids?” She didn’t know why she asked it, regretted it from the moment it tumbled from her lips.
    â€œWell, hon, to be honest, it just never happened for me,” Abbie said, leaning forward to switch the stereo on. “Some of us are built for a different kind of life, I guess.”
    Though Abbie had meant to replace the
Crystal Visions
CD still missing from its case—“borrowed” by Josie nearly a year ago—she was glad she’d refused to lend out Stevie’s
Wild Heart
, which she preferred.
    â€œMy mother was built for a different life,” Ana said,continuing to stare out the window as Stevie sang. “But she accidentally had me.”
    â€œSometimes that happens.”
    â€œIt’s funny, all the kids who have kids, the ones who can’t take care of themselves being forced to take care of someone else they don’t want. Then there are all those people desperate for kids, who are old enough and ready and waiting. I know girls my age—girls younger even—who are pregnant and don’t want to be, and I’ve lived with foster parents who would do anything to have kids of their own. It doesn’t make any sense.”
    â€œNo, it doesn’t,” Abbie said. “But life isn’t fair, and you can’t choose who you’re born to. It’s all beyond our control, I’m afraid. There’s power in how we react to our situations, though.”
    The van continued ambling toward the center of Hadley. They hadn’t passed any other cars or signs of life on the road, which Ana thought odd and wonderful. “What would L.A. look like if the same were true?” she wondered.
    â€œ. . .
Hopelessly enchanted, wild in the darkest places of your mind
.”
    â€œIt’s ridiculous how much Stevie truly gets it,” Ana said.
    â€œShe does, doesn’t she?” Abbie responded, forgetting to whom she was talking for a moment. “How did you know this was Stevie?”
    â€œAre you kidding?” Ana asked, her eyebrows rising in mock horror. “
Stand back
, Abbie, please.”
    They parked the van in front of Moon Pharm General Store, which was hard to miss with its dark facade and bright yellow crescent moon sign hanging above the door. It stood out from all the other storefronts on Main Street, with overflowing flower boxes and dream catchers decorating its frontwindows. The door was set back from the sidewalk, the walkway lined with hand-painted ceramic pots filled with various plants. The door chimed as they entered, little bells and clinking pottery pieces strung together on the handle.
    Ana breathed in the scent of varnished wood and burning herbs. She realized, for the first time in her brief tour of downtown Hadley, which was quiet for a late summer afternoon, that she was actually in a