The Edge of the Light (5 page)

I
t was nearly a week after monitoring what went for his grandfather's recovery progress that Seth and his father, Rich, stood on the front porch of Ralph Darrow's house along with Becca King. The house was cedar shingled in the manner of the Pacific Northwest, and like many homes and cabins in the area, it was unpainted and had been allowed to weather naturally. Small but perfectly constructed by Ralph's own hands, the house sat at the base of and behind a modest hill up which the driveway ran from Newman Road. A lawn and a prize-winning garden of specimen trees and massive rhododendrons fronted it. To one side at a distance, a pond spread out. Behind this and behind the house itself, a great forest loomed.

Seth, his dad, and Becca were examining Ralph's garden from the porch. The distance allowed them to take it all in. The distance also allowed them to take in the enormous amount of work that needed to be done. Winter in the Pacific Northwest involved a mind-boggling exercise in raking, digging, dividing, transplanting, pruning, hauling, and mulching. And that was just in the garden. The forest needed to be seen to as well.
Storms downed trees that required removal, and trails that wound through Ralph's acreage had to be maintained. Left to their own devices, the trails would be overgrown within a few months as spring brought a burgeoning in the greenery that made it akin to a woods in a fairy tale. Creepers creeped, holly shot up, and yellow archangel and English ivy did their best to choke the daylights out of everything. Winter blow-down from strong storm winds cluttered the landscape. It was a job for a team and not for anyone who didn't know exactly what to do and how to do it.

None of them were gardeners. None of them were foresters. Yet something had to be done to maintain the place, and Seth was the one to voice the problem with a mere two words. “It's epic.”

“I've got no idea how he's managed to do it,” was his father's reply.

“It's his passion,” Becca noted.

A movement from near the pond caught their attention. Seth's golden lab came bounding toward them. Gus had dived into the forest the moment Seth had opened the car door upon his arrival with his father. Some critter, Seth decided, had caught the dog's attention, and when Gus's attention was caught, everything related to obedience training went out the window. Now he was feet-to-dog-elbows in mud as he happily loped toward them.

Becca went for a wooden box on the porch. She brought out one of the bones Ralph kept there for the dog. She threw it, Gus's
eyes went bonkers with thrill, and he crashed through several priceless rhodies to get it.

“Sorry,” Becca said. “Bad aim.”

“No worries,” Seth replied. “Maybe he'll prune 'em for us.”

A voice called hello from the top of the small hill. There, just out of sight, the parking area for the property formed a rough trapezoid fashioned from grass, gravel, mud, and ruts. The owner of the voice was a broad-beamed woman in jeans, tall rubber boots, and a down jacket with a repair made of a long strip of duct tape on its sleeve. She wore massive gloves that made her look like a cartoon character, and when she finally reached them, Seth could see that she also sported a rather alarming mustache that made him uncertain where to look.

This was the home health care specialist, and it was because of a visit from her that Seth and his dad had come to Ralph's place. For her part, Becca lived in the house. She'd joined Ralph as his cook and house cleaner in exchange for a room after a spate of living in a treehouse deep within the man's forest.

“Be careful coming down,” Rich Darrow called in greeting to the home health care specialist. “It's wet. Don't slip.”

“Hmmm, yes, I see,” she said, and her tone told Seth she was evaluating what his dad had said. Next to him, he saw Becca remove the earbud from the AUD box.

“Could use a handrail here,” the health care specialist called out.

“Right.” Rich went to meet her.

She made it down safely, came through the arbor that marked the entrance to the garden, and negotiated the stone steps,
taking care with the winter moss that grew upon them. Next to him Seth heard Becca murmur, “That's another problem.”

But there were problems everywhere when it came to the house, the property, and Ralph's ability to return to either. The place wasn't built to accommodate someone who wasn't able bodied. They didn't need a home health care specialist to tell them that. So before Ralph would be allowed to return—
if
he would be allowed to return—the place had to be looked over by an expert. Recommendations had to be made by this expert. Those recommendations had to be followed to the letter and inspected when they were completed. None of this was going to be easy.

“Steph Vanderslip,” the woman said by way of introducing herself. “You must be Seth. And you are . . . ?” to Becca.

Rich Darrow was the one to introduce Becca. “Seth's friend and Ralph's boarder,” was how he put it.

“Beck does the house stuff. And she cooks for Grand,” Seth said. “They get along great,” he added. “Huh, Beck?”

“Long as I don't have to play chess with him.” She added, so that Ms. Vanderslip would understand, “He always wins. I think he cheats.”

“Wouldn't surprise me,” Rich Darrow said.

Steph Vanderslip said, “You ask me, the older they get, the wilier they become. Say, let's start outside here so I can keep my boots on for a while.”

Thus began the evaluation of Ralph Darrow's property, and Steph Vanderslip was thorough. She began with the four front steps that led up to the porch, pointing out that their slick and unprotected condition could and would lead to broken legs if
something wasn't done to protect the surface against the persistent rain of the Pacific Northwest. In fact, she said, Ralph Darrow would be better served by the removal of the steps altogether and the installation of a galvanized steel ramp of the sort used in boating marinas. No moss, algae, lichen, or anything else grew on galvanized steel, she pointed out. The expense was greater than a wooden ramp but the upkeep was marginal. If the cost was too much for them, then they could go with a wooden ramp, as long as it was weatherproofed with rubber matting, chicken wire, or thick tar paper. Or they could keep the steps—which she didn't recommend—and protect them in the same manner. If they chose to do that, though, stronger handrails would be needed: one on each side and another down the middle. But even then . . . a ramp would be better.

Sheesh, Seth thought. This was only the beginning.

Becca gazed at him. Her look was sympathetic. She was probably figuring things were going to get worse.

Steph Vanderslip walked them all back up the hill to the parking area. There she asked pointedly, “How's he going to get down to the house? Obviously, from the road to here can be done by car. But from here to the house . . . ? From the house to here when he has an appointment . . . What's the plan?”

“I can help him,” Seth said. “So can Beck. Dad can—”

“Nope,” Ms Vanderslip said. “He needs to be brought down to the house by vehicle and you currently have no vehicular access.”

That was true, Seth thought. You arrived at the garden and the house via the trail that encircled and descended the hill.
But they could carry Grand down there, and once they had him in the house, how often would he realistically have to leave the place? Once a week? Twice a month?

“He'd get pretty depressed if he couldn't get out,” Becca said quietly. “I bet there's a way, though.”

Rich Darrow walked over to the side of the hill opposite the side that accommodated the path leading down to Ralph's garden. Here the land was treed but not heavily forested and it sloped gradually in the direction of the house. “It's simple enough,” he said to the home health care specialist, “we'll put in a driveway to the back of the house.”

Simple
wasn't how Seth would have put it, but when he joined his father, he saw that Rich had a point. Trees would need to come down, but most of them could be sold for lumber, and the profits could pay for the rest of the work to grade the land so that it could accommodate a vehicle.

Steph Vanderslip gave a we'll-see-about-that
hmph
, but she also agreed that a modestly sloping driveway down to the house would solve the problem. Then she led them back down to the house again, pointing out that no handrail existed along the path and Ralph Darrow was lucky no one had slipped, fallen, broken an arm, and sued him. If Ralph became mobile enough, she said, they would definitely need a handrail for him unless they planned to confine him to the house, allowing him to leave only by vehicle.

Seth wondered at the entire idea of anyone thinking they could “allow” Grand to do something. Grand did what he wanted to do.

Steph Vanderslip nearly went down as she marched them along the path. She caught herself and shot a look at Seth's dad that said, See what I mean?

From there, it was one room at a time. Handrails down the corridor, handrails in the downstairs shower, a seat in the shower as well, handrails on either side of the toilet, a thick bumper around the fireplace hearth to protect Ralph Darrow should he take a fall. As for his easy chair, they would need one simpler for him to get out of, and she recommended the sort with a seat that automatically tilted at the touch of—

The front door opened, allowing a rush of frigid air to enter the place. They all swung at the sound of, “Ah. Here you are.”

• • •

IT WAS SETH'S
aunt, and his first thought when he saw her was
Crap
.
We're in for it now
. He saw Becca give him a puzzled glance. She wouldn't know who Aunt Brenda was, because so far she'd only heard about Rich Darrow's sister but had never met her. She'd be surprised when she got introduced.

Brenda looked
nothing
like someone from Whidbey Island. She didn't really look Pacific Northwest at all. She showed off her money with designer jeans, handmade Italian boots, a cashmere Burberry scarf, a leather jacket, and a ring with a diamond the size of New Jersey. Her hair was blonde and perfect. So was her makeup. So was everything about her, right down to the Lexus SUV that, Seth figured, was parked up above, standing spotlessly clean on the other side of the hill.

Seth's dad was the one to introduce Aunt Brenda to Becca and to Steph Vanderslip. He didn't mention to his sister what they were all doing there. This didn't matter, because Steph Vanderslip offered her hand in a shake and said, “We're just going over what needs to be done to your dad's house before he comes home.”

To this Brenda said to Seth's dad, “D'you want to tell me what's going on?” Before Rich could reply, Brenda went on to Steph Vanderslip with, “He's not coming home.”

Rich said, “Nothing's been decided, Bren.”

“Nothing needs to be decided. There's no decision because there's only one point that needs to be considered and it's obvious: He can't live on his own.”

Seth said, “He's not living on his own. Becca lives here.”

“And what
about
the fact that Becca lives here?” Brenda asked, giving Becca a dismissive glance. “She's what . . . fourteen years old?” She turned to Rich Darrow and demanded, “You're planning to put Dad's welfare into the hands of a child? Have you lost your mind?”

“Beck's sixteen,” Seth offered.

“Oh wonderful!” Brenda hooted. “That makes all the difference. Is she a health care worker? Doesn't she go to school? Or is she some kind of freeloading dropout that Dad took pity on?”

He saw Becca wince, sort of as if she'd been smacked in the face. She put her earbud back in her ear at that point. Seth couldn't work this one out, since he figured it would have been smarter to do the reverse. Without it, she couldn't hear his aunt that well. With it, she could hear her perfectly. And what
Brenda was saying was pretty mean, as if Becca was an idiot or something.

Rich said, “Bren, this isn't the time. . . .” And to Steph Vanderslip, “Seth works in construction. He's a fine carpenter, so any work that needs to be done isn't a problem.”

“Don't tell me this isn't the time!” Brenda's voice went up. “Mike's coming over to evaluate the property.”

“No way!” Seth said hotly. “You two don't have
any
right to—”

“Don't you speak to me like that!”

“I'll talk to you how I feel like talking. This is my grandfather!”

“This is my father!”

Through this, Steph Vanderslip had been like someone watching a tennis match. She finally said, “You know, I think I'll be on my way. Obviously, there are family issues that need to be resolved here. But . . .” She looked a little regretful. “One way or another arrangements are going to have to be made for Mr. Darrow.” Saying this, she took herself out of the house, which left the rest of them with Brenda.