Authors: Emilie Richards
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life, #General, #Romance
The anger left exhaustion in its wake. Eric realized that he had done more lifting than he should have this morning, and the thought brought a fresh wave of anger. Where was the man with the boundless energy and strength? The one who didn’t dissolve into fits of emotion at every slight, every demand?
He turned away and started toward the door.
“You left Mom alone, with three little kids and this inn. Do you really think you can just come back and expect us to feel grateful we’re finally getting your attention?”
Eric stopped, his hand on the rail. This time he waited and considered before he spoke.
“When a marriage isn’t working, there are two people who have a say in what happens next. I asked your mother to come with me. She refused. And I’m not saying that anything that happened is her fault. I’m just pointing out that this was a mutual decision. I didn’t skip out on her, as you well know.”
“You always seem to set the rules. How does that happen? Is that what men do? We call the shots, and women get to choose whether or not to go along?”
Eric faced him. Through his exhaustion, his self-loathing, and, yes, through a haze of anger, he could still see that his answer was going to matter for years to come.
“It wasn’t easy leaving all of you behind, Noah. But by then I knew it was going to be impossible to stay here. If you want to understand even one thing from this conversation, try this. I suffered, too.”
“Yeah? How badly?”
Even if the question had been serious and not a taunt, Eric would not have known how to answer it.
F
or Jared, driving Gayle’s sporty red pickup was a bonus, and it was his alone, since Noah was only allowed to drive the family sedan. Jared was saving for a car, but since he wouldn’t need one at school next year, there was no point in buying a junker that would take up space in the inn’s parking lot while he was away. As compensation for all his help at the inn, Gayle let him drive the pickup whenever she could.
This afternoon was one of those times. Jared had promised Brandy that they would go swimming with friends. She wasn’t much of an athlete, but she had a bright blue bikini, and she liked to show it off. That worked for Jared, since he liked looking at her. His government teacher called that kind of trade-off a
quid pro quo.
Whatever it was called, Jared thought he was getting the best of the deal.
When he pulled into her yard, Brandy was waiting outside. Mrs. Wilburn waved from the doorway, but she disappeared into the house before he could get out to greet her. Brandy resembled her mother, except that Mrs. Wilburn needed to lose at least a hundred pounds. She was so heavy that she tipped stiff-legged from side to side when she walked. Her legs could no longer bend properly.
Brandy was so ashamed of her mother, she was always talking about some new diet Mrs. Wilburn should try. From what Jared could tell, Mrs. Wilburn wasn’t unhappy or weak willed, she simply enjoyed food. She poured gravy on her mashed potatoes and chocolate syrup on her ice cream, and relished every bite. She seemed perfectly satisfied with herself, dressing in bright colors and fixing her dark hair in an attractive style. Jared tried to get Brandy to leave her mother alone, but that was like speaking another language. Brandy just didn’t understand what he was saying.
Now Brandy got into the pickup and slammed the door. “I can’t believe it! I have to be home by five. We’re going out for dinner. As a fam-i-ly.” She rolled her eyes.
Jared pulled out of the driveway and started down the road. The Wilburns going anywhere together was actually a good thing. He was sure Mr. and Mrs. Wilburn loved their daughter, but they were gone a lot. They both worked at Mr. Wilburn’s Buick dealership and had long commutes. On weekends Mr. Wilburn played golf and Mrs. Wilburn shopped, dragging Brandy along when she could catch her—which wasn’t often.
“You’ll probably have a good time,” he said.
“You’re invited.”
He imagined that. Sitting in a restaurant listening to Brandy complain about every bite her mother ate.
“I’ll pass.” He realized he had spoken too quickly. “My grandparents are coming in tonight. I want to be there when they arrive.”
“How come they weren’t here for your graduation?”
“They were out of the country. Grandpa’s in the foreign service. They travel all the time.”
“Like your dad.”
“Yeah, sort of.” He pulled onto a side road and slowed, although taking bumps at high speed was the best part of driving the truck. “We’re having our big Sunday dinner tomorrow afternoon, and you’re invited. I’m asking Cray and Lisa, too.”
“Your mom sure spends a lot of time in the kitchen. And
she
doesn’t get fat!”
“She feels bad we have this big house and we don’t get to use it much. So she’s pretty much always closed off the dining room for Sunday dinner so we can pretend it’s all ours.”
“It’s gotta be weird living where so many strangers are in and out.”
He made another turn; then, a hundred yards later, he pulled over beside two cars and the beat-up pickup that Cray always drove, and turned off the engine.
“I hope you’ve got your suit on under that?”
She sent him her most provocative smile. “What there is of it.”
Cray and his girlfriend, Lisa, a blonde with a narrow face and dimpled chin, were already settled on a flat rock beside the water. The actual North Fork was just beyond them, and the water here was the end of a creek that carved out a deep hole as it fed the river. Everybody knew about this place, and if anybody actually owned the property surrounding it, they never complained about the kids hanging out and swimming here. Branches draped low over the water, which was murky and mysterious, but the temperature always felt great for swimming.
Two other guys had come, as well. One, Doug, was a classmate whom Jared didn’t know well, and he introduced his cousin, who had just graduated from a high school in Staunton. A junior couple, who were good friends of Lisa’s, rounded out the party.
Cray sprang to his feet, did a Tarzan yell as he beat his chest and jumped into the river. Last year some hotshot kid from Strasburg had tried to dive and hit his head on a submerged tree branch. He was okay, but nobody tried diving here anymore.
Lisa slipped in to join Cray, and so did the two guys, who had brought a beach ball and were knocking it around. The juniors were too busy making out to notice.
“You want to swim?” Jared offered Brandy a hand.
“I’m going to get some sun.” She slipped off her T-shirt and shorts, and kicked her flip-flops to the side of the rock.
Brandy really was beautiful, all smooth skin and curves. Maybe someday she would gain a lot of weight, like her mother, or maybe all that smooth skin would sag, as Cray predicted. But right now, Jared thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He splashed when he hit the water and hoped the temperature would cool more than the heat of the sun.
Twenty minutes later he was stretched out beside Brandy, and the others were back on the rock, as well. Cray had hauled Brandy and the groping juniors into the water against their will, but no one held it against him. The guys had played with the ball, except for Doug, who had climbed back up to talk to Brandy once she got out. Now they were all out of the water on their backs, looking up at the lacy patterns of the branches.
“I wonder if they have swimming holes like this in Massachusetts,” Jared said.
Brandy grunted. “Sure, if you’re a polar bear. Besides, you’ll be back in the summers. Right?”
He wasn’t sure of anything, so he didn’t answer. She sat up. “You mean you might not come back when school’s not in session?”
“I haven’t even left yet.”
She looked bewildered for a moment; then she narrowed her eyes. “Well, not everybody’s leaving Shenandoah County. Right, Doug?”
Doug, who had played halfback on the football team to no great accolades, made a noise in his throat that could have been “Right.”
“Doug’s staying in town. He’s going to work for his father,” she said. Doug’s father owned one of the local drugstores.
Jared knew what Brandy was trying to do, and he was annoyed. She edged closer to where Doug was stretched out, and his annoyance grew.
Cray came to the rescue. “Well, I’m leaving. I’m joining the marines.”
There was a brief silence; then Lisa shrieked, “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“Nope. I’ll be a military man. Won’t I look hot in a uniform?”
She sat up and pounded his shoulder. “Cray, that’s just insane. Did you notice we’re, like, at war?”
“Yeah, and I’m going to help win it.”
Jared knew all about Cray’s decision, so he didn’t say anything. This was something his friend had talked about at length for a full year, but only to Jared. He hadn’t wanted his mother to know. He’d been preparing in his own half-assed way ever since. Marching up into the mountains when the spirit moved him, doing push-ups when he remembered, shaving off all his hair to get used to looking at himself that way.
“Did you finally tell your mother?” Jared asked.
“She found out.”
“Did she go ballistic?”
“Is there a stronger word?” He gave a snort. “But she can’t stop me. I’m eighteen, and it’s the right thing to do.”
“Well, I don’t think it is,” Lisa said. “What about college?”
“No dough, and not enough financial aid. I don’t want to work my way through and do it in eight years or something. I’d rather let the military pay for it later.”
Lisa had won early admission to William and Mary, and was nobody’s dope. “It’s a good deal for them,” she said bitterly. “There’s always that chance you won’t live long enough to use it.”
Cray sat up. “I thought
you,
of everybody, would get it, Lisa.”
She jumped to her feet and took off toward his pickup. Cray shrugged in Jared’s direction and took off after her. Jared figured they wouldn’t see either of them again that afternoon.
“Well, I don’t blame her for being mad,” Brandy said. “It’s bad enough you’re going off to college, Jared.”
Doug, brown-haired and bullet-shaped, sat up. “We need to cleanse all that negative energy. Let’s swim.”
Brandy stood up. “I know, let’s skinny-dip.” She glanced at Jared, then away. “I dare you all.”
The juniors got to their feet first. The girl might be a friend of Lisa’s, but she wasn’t going to be picked for Honor Society any time soon. She giggled. “You mean really? Won’t somebody, you know, see us out here?”
Jared saw that the dare was actually meant for him. Was he going to let Brandy strip in front of the others? Or was he going to pay her the kind of attention she thought she deserved? He had wounded her with all the talk of leaving, and she was getting back at him.
For a moment he considered just abandoning her there to swim in the buff. Doug could take her back when they were done. He was tired of the games and the threats. But the thought of her naked in front of the other four won out.
He grabbed her by the hand, scooped up their clothes off the rock and tugged her toward the pickup.
He opened the passenger door and stood there, waiting for her to get inside.
“You know, there are only so many times a girl makes an offer,” she said, her voice vibrating with anger. “Maybe you don’t think I’m worth staying around for, Jared Fortman, but you aren’t the only guy in this county.”
“Get in, Brandy.”
She shoved him hard, but afterward she got into the pickup and slipped on her clothes over her suit.
Eric wasn’t sure how Dillon ended up on the roof of the garden-shed apartment. After his encounter with Noah, he had eaten lunch sitting alone on a shady bench, watching the river flow north. He fielded two cell-phone calls from colleagues who were checking on his recovery and had a casual conversation with Gayle, who made and delivered lunch before heading into town with a sullen Noah. But he was still feeling out of sorts and lonely.
He was on his way inside when he glanced at the shed and noticed his youngest son perched on the edge, legs kicking empty air. A ladder leaned against the building where Dillon had propped it, and he held a hammer in one hand and what looked like a tube of something in the other. Several shingles that lined the gutter facing the house flapped erratically in the breeze. Nailing them in place with a little roofing cement was a small job and obviously Dillon’s mission.
“Hey, Dad,” Dillon called. “I’m going to surprise Mom. Even if she puts on a new roof, if these fly away they could damage something else.”
Eric felt himself growing dizzy looking up at his son. He averted his gaze. “Are you supposed to be up there?”
“What do you mean?”
It seemed obvious to Eric. Annoyance was becoming such a normal emotion, he didn’t think twice about it. “I mean some kids ask permission before they risk life and limb. Are you allowed to get up on the roof?”
“I’m careful. I’m not planning to jump off when I’m finished or anything.”
“You aren’t answering my question.”
“I’ve been up here before, and I’m careful. And I told you, it’s a surprise.”
Eric had faced down world leaders, but none as slippery as this. “I think you’d better get down. Your mom’s not here, and if you fall off, it’s on my watch.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’m almost fourteen. I don’t need a babysitter. And besides, Mom’s coming right back.”
Eric started toward the apartment, his anger simmering. “When she comes back, I want her to find you standing on the ground.”
Dillon didn’t move. “Didn’t you like to climb ladders and stuff when you were my age?”
At the moment Eric couldn’t remember being any age except old, and he was feeling older by the second. “Get down, Dillon. Now.”
“I know, why don’t you come up instead? We could nail the shingles together and stuff. And you can see pretty far from here. There’s a bird’s nest in that tree over there.”
Eric realized his youngest son wasn’t really testing his father’s authority. Dillon seemed truly perplexed, as if he was certain that if he just explained this well enough, his father would understand. Eric considered his abortive attempts to firm up a relationship with his middle son today. Noah wanted nothing to do with the father he saw as the villain in their life drama. But this son saw him as the hero. And though neither role was true, he certainly preferred the latter.
“I don’t want to come up. And what are you doing home, anyway? Your mom said you were down the road with a friend.”
“Yeah, but we’re all done with…with what we were doing.”
Eric remembered what it was like to be Dillon’s age. Everything had been a test of his newly maturing body. He had perfected his Australian crawl by swimming too far out in the local lake. He had fallen from a raft in whitewater, skied down a forbidden slope, nearly trapped himself in quicksand.