Under a Summer Sky (10 page)

A
sa stood on the porch, listening to the mournful cries of the gander as he swam slowly back and forth in the last golden rays of sunlight. For as long as he could remember, he and Maddie had looked forward to the pair’s arrival every spring—they’d even had an unspoken rivalry as to who would see or hear them first. And they never tired of listening to the gander’s deep
a-honk
, or her loving reply—a higher
ca-honk
that assured, “I’m here, dear.” But now the male’s calls were heart wrenching—it had been two days since the fox had killed his beloved mate, and he was still grieving.

“What will become of him?” Maddie asked.

“I don’t know,” Asa replied.

“I wish we could help.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do for a broken heart.”

“We have that old incubator. Maybe we could incubate their eggs. They must’ve been pretty close to hatching.”

Asa shook his head. “They’ve been neglected for two days now . . . and even if they do hatch, he may not take care of them. What will we do then?”

Maddie looked thoughtful. “Raise them ourselves.”

Asa shook his head. “Hon, I know you want to help, but we have a lot going on. We certainly don’t have time to be playing Father and Mother Goose.”

“I have time.”

“What about the weekend of the wedding?”

“I’ll get Bella to take care of them,” Maddie said, thinking of the young daughter of their next-door neighbor.

Asa sighed, suddenly realizing his wife had latched onto an idea and had no plans of letting go. He put his arm around her. “What if taking the eggs from the nest causes him more trauma?”

Maddie looked skeptical. “I don’t think he even remembers they’re there.”

“Can it at least wait ’til morning? I don’t have the energy to dig out the incubator tonight.”

Maddie nodded. “First thing . . .”

Asa agreed. “First thing.”

B
eryl sat on the porch of her childhood home and watched as her mom’s old bulldog waddled along behind her sister’s big black Lab, Norman, trying to sniff his hind end. “Flan-o,” she called. “Could you try to be a little more ladylike?” But Flannery ignored her and continued to stop and pee wherever Norman peed.

Rumer looked up from husking corn and laughed. “She’s just reclaiming her territory.”

Isak took a sip of her wine and added, “It was her territory first, and she can’t understand why it smells like Norman everywhere.”

“She’s too much,” Beryl said with a resigned sigh, reaching for another ear of corn. “Is this corn from Kimberly’s?”

“Yup. Just picked this morning,” Rumer said.

“I wonder if we should get our corn for the clambake from them.”

“You should. They have the sweetest corn around.”

Beryl nodded. “Maybe we’ll stop and talk to John on our way home.”

Isak reached for an ear. “How come Micah’s parents aren’t coming tonight?”

“His dad hasn’t been feeling well,” Beryl confided. “He’s a little evasive about what’s going on,” she added quietly, “but Micah says he’s always been that way.”

“Will’s parents are like that too,” Rumer said with a sympathetic nod. “I hate it when people aren’t forthcoming. Whatever it is, just come out with it.”

Beryl stacked several ears of corn on the arm of her chair. “They also had a Canada goose killed in their yard.”

“Oh, no!” Rumer said. “That’s awful.”

“It
is
awful. The same pair has been nesting on their pond for years, and the other night, the female was killed by a fox . . . and now her mate keeps calling for her.”

“That’s so sad,” Isak said, reaching for another ear. “Don’t geese mate for life?”

“They do,” Beryl said. “And now Micah’s parents are worried about what will happen to him. He’s so heartbroken.”

“Okay,” Micah interrupted, coming out on the porch with a plate in his hands. “Who’s having a burger and who’s having a hot dog?”

Isak frowned. “I thought we were having steak. . . .”

Micah laughed. “I knew that would get you going,” he teased, and as he went down the steps to the grill, Isak threw a cushion at him.

“You’re not funny, Coleman,” she called.

Beryl laughed. “Micah is really looking forward to Bermuda,” she confided softly. “He’s like a little kid. He even bought a new bathing suit.”

Rumer laughed. “I’m so jealous. Will and I never got to go on a honeymoon.”

“Micah and Beth never did either.”

“Well, you guys are going to have such a good time.”

Beryl nodded. “I hope so. I hope there aren’t any hurricanes.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Isak reassured. “Hurricane season doesn’t really get going until September.”

As she said this, Matt and Will came around the corner of the house, and Matt stopped to admire the porch Will had just restored. “It needed new flooring and posts.”

“Well, it looks great,” Matt said with a nod. “Everything you’ve done to this old place looks great.”

“Thanks,” Will said. “We still have a long way to go. Ru wants to re-do the kitchen, but I’m so busy right now I think it’s going to have to wait until winter.”

“I heard that,” Rumer called over the railing, and Matt and Will both laughed as they walked over to join Micah at the grill.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that,” Will said apologetically.

“Not a problem,” Micah said with a grin.

“Well, can I at least get you a beer?”

“Sure,” Micah said.

“How about you, Matt?”

“Sounds good.”

“Are the steaks almost ready?” Rumer called.

“Just turning ’em now,” Micah called back.

Will came back out on the porch with three frosty bottles as Rumer gathered up the corn. “Hon, can you round up Charlotte and Rand. I think he’s showing her the tree house,” she said.

Will nodded and held the door for her.

Beryl and Isak picked up the ears they’d husked and followed Rumer inside, and as Isak refilled their wine glasses and Beryl pulled salads out of the fridge, Rumer plunged the corn into the steaming pot on the stove.

Moments later, giggling Charlotte chased her new cousin into the kitchen with Norman at their heels and Flan waddling as fast as she could to keep up. “Go wash up, Char,” Micah commanded as he held the platter of sizzling steaks up so it wouldn’t get knocked from his hand.

“You too, Rand,” Will called.

When they were all finally seated around the kitchen table, Rand reached eagerly for an ear of corn, but Charlotte nudged him and whispered, “Grace!”

Rand frowned, and Rumer raised her eyebrows. “You know what grace is.”

Sheepishly, Rand bowed his head, and everyone else turned to look at Micah.

“Me?” he said with a groan.

“Might as well be you,” Matt said matter-of-factly. “You’re closer to the cloth than any of us.”

Micah shook his head, but then looked down and paused reflectively. Before he spoke, he glanced around the table at the bowed heads—including Rand’s and Charlotte’s, whose eyes were squeezed shut—waiting, and he bowed his head again. “Thank you, Father,” he began softly, “for the blessing of a beautiful summer day . . . a bountiful table . . .” And then, in traditional Coleman style, he paused before adding, “And a big, crazy, wonderful family.”

They all chuckled, and Beryl squeezed his hand.

“Amen!” Matt said, holding up his drink.

A chorus of voices responded, “Amen!” and then cheerful chatter and laughter filled the kitchen as bowls of potato salad, Caesar salad, and Beryl’s famous three bean salad circled the table, followed by steak, corn on the cob, and deviled eggs.

T
he last week of July was a blur. “I don’t think we should go,” Laney said the night before they were to leave. In her arms was the last load of laundry.

Noah looked up from his laptop. “You can’t back out now. Asher’s all packed. He even packed Halle’s things.”

“I know, but this house is a disaster, and I can’t come home two days before the wedding and have it all cleaned . . .
and
have time to make enough peach cobbler for sixty plus people. Do you have any idea how long it takes to peel that many peaches?”

“I’ll help you. We’ll all help. In fact, while you’re gone, I’ll get more peelers, and when you’re ready to make the cobblers, we’ll have a peach peeling party.”

Laney frowned and shook her head. She had no reply for such an absurd solution. She just felt like crying. She turned to head up the stairs with the laundry.

“Don’t worry about the house,” he called.

She dumped the laundry on the bed and spread it out so it wouldn’t wrinkle—most of the clothes were hers—things she planned on taking: T-shirts, shorts, underwear, a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, her running shorts, and a sports bra—in case she had the chance to go running, which she was beginning to doubt. Glumly, she opened her suitcase, folded each item and laid it in. Her heart just wasn’t in it.

“Rabbit, rabbit!” Asher said softly, blinking at the darkness. There was just the slightest hint of gray outside his bedroom window, and his heart pounded with excitement as he pushed back his sheet. “C’mon, Halle,” he whispered. “We’ve got to get ready.” The puppy, who’d grown considerably since they’d brought her home, yawned, and settled her head back on her paws while Asher shuffled to the next room.

“Mom,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking her. “It’s time to get up. You said we have to leave early.”

Laney mumbled, “It’s too early for school, hon. Go back to bed.”

“Mom,” Asher persisted. “We’re going to Georgia . . . remember?”

Laney sat bolt upright, opened her eyes, and looked at the bedside clock. “Crap,” she grumbled. She looked at Asher. “You didn’t hear that.”

He grinned. “Nope.”

Laney nudged her husband. “Hon, I overslept . . . and I’m going to take my shower.”

Noah rolled over, looked at the clock, and immediately pulled himself out of bed. Sleepily, he carried Laney’s suitcase down the stairs, turned on the coffeepot, and started to pack a cooler with snacks and drinks.

Asher pulled on his John Deere T-shirt and shorts, made his bed, brushed his teeth, packed his toothbrush, and thumped his suitcase down the stairs, with Halle at his heels. “I’m ready,” he announced.

“Mmm . . . you look ready,” Noah said with a smile. “Why don’t you go get the comb and we’ll try to tame that wildfire on the top of your head.”

Asher reached up to touch his hair. “Oops!” He dropped his suitcase and turned to run up the stairs, almost knocking Laney over.

“Be right back,” he called.

Laney dropped her backpack by the door, and Noah handed her a cup of coffee. She took a sip and smiled. “As much as I’d love to drink this right now, I think I’m going to put it in a travel mug and drink it when we’re a little farther down the road. I’d like to at least be off the Cape before we have to make our first stop.”

Noah chuckled. He knew all about Laney’s pit stops when they traveled.

“It’s not funny,” Laney admonished. “
And
it’s your fault.”

“My fault?” Noah asked, feigning innocence.

“Yes, your fault for impregnating me so many times.”

“Yeah, well it would be nice to have the opportunity to try to impregnate you again,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Well, you have a long wait,” Laney said wryly, “with this full house. Besides, in case you forgot, you’re fixed and I’ve paused . . . so they’ll be no more impregnating.”

“We could still go through the motions once in a while . . .”

“We could . . . if there weren’t so many little ears around.”

“Well, maybe we’ll have to get away for a weekend.”

Laney poured her coffee into her travel mug. “I don’t think ministers are allowed to go away for the weekend,” she teased.

“I’m sure something can be arranged . . . maybe Nantucket?”

“Nantucket sounds nice,” she agreed, sounding doubtful. “When you figure out when and how we can afford Nantucket for a weekend, let me know.” She missed their lovemaking too, but she was usually too tired to dwell on it. She was perfectly happy to have him cuddle next to her at night. “I’m going to miss you,” she said.

“I’m going to miss you too,” he said softly, pulling her into a hug.

Just then, Asher bounced down the stairs with the comb and a spray bottle full of water. He pretended to shield his eyes and teased, “Get a room, wouldja?”

Noah pulled him into their hug, which made him giggle. “I’m gonna wet my pants,” he said breathlessly.

“Well, you better go to the bathroom then,” Noah said, laughing and releasing him.

Twenty minutes later, after quick bowls of cereal, a reminder to keep an eye on Lucky, and a walk around the yard for Halle, they loaded everything in the car. The eastern sky was just beginning to brighten, and Laney looked out at the ocean. “I can’t believe we’ve only been down to the beach a couple of times this summer,” she said sadly. “And by the time we get back, summer will be almost over. The kids have hardly been in the pool.”

“That’s not true,” Noah consoled. “They’ve been in the pool—even Halle’s been in the pool,” he said, scooping up the puppy, kissing her head, and putting her on the backseat. “And when things settle down, we’ll make a point of getting down to the beach. Things’ve just been a little hectic this summer.”

“Halle loves the pool,” Asher piped, climbing into his seat.

“Hey, where’s my hug?” Noah said, eyeing him in dismay.

“Right here,” Asher replied, jumping into his arms.

“Have you got Halle’s leash?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re gonna be good?”

“Yup.”

“And help Mom?”

“Yup.”

“And not eat all the peaches on the way home?”

“Yup.”

“And not let Mom eat all the peaches on the way home?”

He giggled. “Yup!”

“Okay, then you can go.” He kissed his forehead. “Love you,” he said, plopping him into his seat.

“Love you too.”

Noah turned to Laney.

“Don’t eat all the peaches,” he said with a grin.

“I will. I mean
won’t
,” she said with a laugh.

“Do you remember how to go?”

“Like the back of my hand,” she assured him. Then she looked up at the house. “Do you think I should wake them?”

“No. You said good-bye last night. They’re fine.”

“But, what if—”

“What if nothing,” he interrupted. “We’ll be fine . . . you’ll be fine . . . and like it or not, you’ll be back before you know it.”

Laney half smiled and nodded, and he pulled her into one last hug. She lay her head on his chest and felt the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was as steady as he was. “I love you,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.

“I love you too,” he said softly, holding her tight.

Asher cleared his throat, and Laney smiled although her eyes were glistening, and Noah looked over and realized Halle had her head out the window. “You make sure her window stays up a bit so she doesn’t fall out,” he reminded.

“I will.”

Laney opened her door.

“Got your phone?”

She nodded.

“Charger?”

She nodded again.

“Call me when you get there?”

“I will.”

Noah smiled, and as Laney turned the key, he stepped back and waved. She smiled wistfully and waved back. And as she pulled away, watching him continue to wave, hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, Mom,” Asher said cheerfully. “We’ll be back.”

As the sun came up over the Sagamore Bridge, Laney glanced in back and realized that Asher had fallen asleep with Halle’s head in his lap. Smiling, she slid the top of her travel cup open and took a sip—the coffee was still hot. She was glad she’d waited. Now Asher could sleep, and she could probably make it all the way into Connecticut . . . maybe even New York . . . before she had to stop.

Cape Cod to Georgia was an eighteen-hour trip without stops, but she didn’t plan to drive straight through. They’d go as far as Virginia today, and then hopefully make it to the farm by early Sunday afternoon. She felt less anxious about going now that they were finally underway. She knew all along that leaving would be the hardest part. As she reached for her sunglasses and turned on the radio, her thoughts drifted to the rolling hills of the farm and the bear hugs they’d get from Lyle. It had been much too long.