Under a Summer Sky (4 page)

For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

—John 1:16

A
wedding!
Laney thought as her husband disappeared into his study to work on his sermon. She looked out the kitchen window. Her mind spun with the news—as overwhelming as it had seemed, it was also exciting. She pictured their yard, sparkling with strings of white Christmas lights. She pictured Tiki torches around the yard and down on the beach.
What would everyone wear to a wedding on the beach? It would have to be semiformal . . . but casual . . . pretty, flowing sundresses and sports coats, rolled-up khakis and bare feet.
She could picture her handsome boys with haircuts and new jackets. At least E and Gabe would need new jackets; Seth and Ben could wear their hand-me-downs . . . Asher too. Heaven knows they had enough boys’ jackets to open a thrift store.

Oh, and what about the food? She’d have to send Micah the link to her friend’s catering company. Everyone raved about A Moveable Feast. Ruth was an amazing chef, and her staff was always professional.

Laney’s reverie was suddenly interrupted by Asher coming through the porch with Halle still on her leash. “Mom!” he shouted. “Halle loves the yard!” He was beaming, but as he reached the kitchen, he realized Mennie was blocking their entrance, and a shadow of worry fell across his face. Immediately, Mennie’s fur bristled and his ears went back. Without lifting his head, the old dog looked sideways, searching Laney’s face for a clue.

“Oh, Mennie,” Laney consoled, kneeling down next to him. “Stop being an old poop.” Mennie lifted his head and continued to search her eyes. “Halle
is
staying,” she said softly. He sighed heavily—as if he’d just received the worst news on earth. “But she’s going to need an older, wiser dog to look after her and show her the ropes.” His tail thumped slowly, and he rolled onto his side to have his belly rubbed. Laney gently scratched up and down. “You don’t have to worry, old pie,” she said softly. “She’ll have her own bed
and
her own bowl.”

“Do you think he understands, Mom?” Asher asked. “I was just praying that he’d stop being mean.”

Laney looked up and saw the concern in her little boy’s eyes.
He’s too young to have so many worries
. “I think he understands, Ash—we’ll just have to make sure Halle respects his space until he gets used to having her around.”

“Well, she can sleep in my bed until she gets her own.”

Laney laughed. “We’ll see—we have to make sure she’s housebroken first.”

They heard jostling and laughing out on the porch and then the room filled with commotion as sixteen-year-old Ben and fourteen-year-old Seth came in, followed by nineteen-year-old Gabe, who’d just picked them up from track practice. “I so beat you in that last split,” Seth said.

“You did not,” Ben argued. “I easily beat you!”

Gabe looked at his mother and rolled his eyes. “They’ve been like this all the way home!”

Laney laughed. “Don’t tell
me
. It’s the story of my life—you and E were no better! Thank you for picking them up though.”

All at once, the boys saw the puppy in Asher’s arms. “Hey! Who’s that?” Seth asked, kneeling down and petting the puppy’s soft head.

“This is Halle,” Asher said protectively, “and she’s
my
responsibility.” Halle licked Seth’s cheek, and he laughed, and Ben knelt down too. Pretty soon all the boys were on the floor playing with the puppy while Mennie watched with his head between his paws.

“Don’t forget your other pal,” Laney gently reminded.

They all looked over and saw Mennie’s sad eyes, and quickly scrambled over to pet him too. “Don’t worry, Mennie,” they gushed. “We still love you.” The old dog thumped his tail, and Laney shook her head.
How quickly they forgive.

After lunch, Laney plopped the puppy on the floor of Noah’s study and told him she was taking Asher to get new glasses.

Noah looked up from his laptop.

“She was just out, but I can’t promise anything.” The puppy was already nosing along the edge of the couch, curiously nudging a pillow. “Maybe she’ll take a nap,” Laney added with a conspiratorial grin, “or maybe you can get one of the boys to puppy-sit.”

Noah knew from his wife’s tone that this was payback—the first of many, he was sure, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. He could handle a puppy
and
write a sermon. “Not a problem,” he said with a smile as the puppy pulled the pillow off the couch and started chewing on the corner. He looked down. “Not a problem,” he repeated. Laney smiled, and as she closed the door, he murmured, “I didn’t like that pillow anyway.”

“Why is Jared mean?” Asher asked, settling into his booster seat in the back of Laney’s old Honda Pilot.

“I don’t know, hon,” she said, looking at him in her rearview mirror.

He was gazing out the window, and she could tell his wheels were spinning. At seven, Asher was already showing signs of being extraordinarily bright—especially in math and science. He loved to take on challenging problems that were well above his grade level, and he refused to give up until the problem was solved. Unfortunately, real-life problems—like the one with Jared—couldn’t be solved using mathematical logic.

“His brother’s mean to him,” Asher said thoughtfully, “so maybe that makes him mean to other people.”

“Maybe,” Laney agreed, surprised by his insight. That was another thing about Asher—he was very sensitive to other people’s feelings, and he was a bit of an old soul—just like his mom. Laney smiled at the thought. She’d finally figured out that being an old soul meant people perceived you to be wise beyond your years. And this surprised her because, most of the time, she didn’t feel very wise at all. As for Asher, being sensitive and perceptive just made him a bigger target for bullying.

She stopped at the end of their driveway and sent a quick text message to her husband, reminding him to call Jared’s mom. And as they drove along, she thought about Jillian.

Jillian Laughlin had grown up in their church—she’d even been confirmed there. Her parents had been good people, but they were an older couple when they had their two daughters, and now they’d both passed away. Laney knew Jillian was having a hard time. In fact, if anyone needed prayers, Jillian and her boys did. Unfortunately, at the moment, Laney couldn’t muster any prayers . . . she just wanted to wring Jared’s neck!

Jillian’s situation, like the situations of so many other single moms, was the unfortunate result of poor choices. The first time she’d gotten pregnant, she was nineteen. She’d been working at a bar in Chatham, and after she got off work, she went out drinking with a bunch of rich college boys who were out on the Cape for the weekend . . . and she’d ended up sleeping with one of them. The next morning, Jillian had woken up alone. A month later, she realized she was pregnant, but she didn’t even know the boy’s last name or where he lived.

After her first son was born, Jillian went to live with her sister Liz in Wellfleet; she started dating a friend of Liz’s boyfriend. John was a bad decision from day one. He was six years older than Jillian, and his favorite pastime was drinking. He didn’t work; he just lounged around all day at Liz’s. Liz finally got tired of hosting endless parties for her boyfriend and all of his buddies, and she kicked them all out. At the time, she begged her little sister to stay, but Jillian moved in with John and, before she knew it, she was pregnant again. John never warmed up to fatherhood. He barely looked at Jeff, except to swat him against the wall . . . and after Jared was born, he disappeared.

Now Jeff was in sixth grade, and he was always in trouble. In fact, he’d just been suspended for the second time. Laney knew if he got in trouble again, he’d be expelled. And Jared was no better—following right in his half-brother’s footsteps. He was a bully! And for some reason, he’d zeroed in on Asher . . . and he got the other kids to pick on him too. It was almost as if picking on Asher Coleman was cool. Laney’s heart ached for the loss of her son’s innocence. Jared called him every name he could think of:
Ashhole, Ashwipe, Ashtray.
And Laney had come to rue the day they’d picked the name Asher over Samuel—his great-grandfather’s name. Sam would’ve been a much better choice.

She pulled into Nauset Optical and helped Asher climb down. As they walked across the parking lot, he reached for her hand. “I want to get the same glasses,” he said, pushing the taped pair back up on his nose. “You know, Mom,” he continued. “Harry was bullied by all kinds of people, so when anyone’s mean to me, I just think of him.”

“Harry who?” Laney asked, forgetting all about Asher’s favorite character.

“Harry Potter, Mom,” Asher said matter-of-factly, skipping along. “They were way meaner to him.”

Tears filled Laney’s eyes. It was a good thing Jared Laughlin was not standing in this parking lot right now!

“Mom, can we get a bed for Halle after this?”

Laney knelt down and pulled her little boy into a hug.

“Why are you crying?” he asked in a worried voice.

“I’m not,” Laney whispered.

“Yes, you are,” he said, pulling back and touching the tear on her cheek. “Don’t cry. If Harry can handle Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and Dudley . . .
and
Voldemort, I can handle Jared.”

“I know you can, Ash,” Laney said, mustering a smile. “I just wish you didn’t have to.”

“Can we get a bowl too?” he asked, pulling away.

“We can,” she said, brushing away her tears.

“And a new collar and leash? I think we should get blue.”

Laney nodded.

“And we should probably get her one of those tags with her name and phone number on it too, in case she gets lost.”

“You’re right. We should,” Laney agreed. “Maybe we can get her a new tennis ball too.”

“Yeah, she’d love that,” Asher said with a grin.

Laney looked down at her son’s smile. Noah was right. Halle was a good idea.

S
unday mornings were always hectic in the Coleman house. Even when Elijah and Gabe were away at college, there were still three other boys to round up, feed, make sure their shirts were ironed—or at least, not too wrinkled—and load in the car. But now that E and Gabe were home for the summer, life was back to its normal state—total chaos. Or as Noah like to call it: blessed pandemonium!

“Has anyone fed Lucky lately?” Laney asked, noticing the fluffy orange tiger cat sunning on the screened-in porch.

“Not me,” replied a chorus of voices.

Laney shook her head. “That poor cat—he didn’t pick a very good family to adopt.”

“We’re a good family,” Ben protested with his mouth full of Froot Loops. “It’s the woman who takes care of us that needs help.”

“The woman who takes care of you needs help all right. It’s called a maid.” Laney bopped him with a cereal box as she opened the cabinet to look for the cat food.

“Hey!” Ben said, rubbing his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hit you?”

“There’s no hot water left,” an angry voice called from the top of the stairs.

“Sorry! Maybe you should get up earlier,” Gabe called back with his mouth full of Corn Pops and his hair still damp.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take such long showers,” the annoyed voice replied, then added, “Guess I’m not going to church . . .”

Laney shook her head, and in an exasperated voice, called, “E, could you just skip the shower? You took one yesterday.”

“No, Mom, I can’t.”

“Take a cold one,” Gabe shouted. “It’d be good for you.” He looked up at his mom. “Chloe Sanders is gonna be in church,” he said with a conspiratorial grin.

“Chloe Sanders?” Laney said in surprise, remembering the little girl who’d grown up in the church with her boys, and who, years earlier, had been the one to name Mennie. “I didn’t know she and E kept in touch.”

“Oh, yeah, they keep in touch all right . . .”

Laney looked puzzled. “Where does she go to school?”

“Smith . . . right near E at Amherst.”

“I know where your brother goes to school, Gabe. The question is: how do
you
know so much?”

“Facebook.”

Ben and Seth, who’d been pretending to study the back of their cereal boxes, snickered. “E’s got a girlfriend!” they sang merrily.

“Shut up, Gabe!” Elijah warned, coming into the kitchen and tying his tie.

“You’re wearing a tie?” Gabe teased. “You’re such a dweeb.”

Elijah glared at him and reached for the coffeepot, but it was almost empty, and he slammed it back on its burner.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Laney said apologetically, looking up from the cat kibble. “I forgot you drank coffee. Do you want the rest of mine? You can nuke it.”

“No, Mom, I don’t want yours,” he said, reaching for the orange juice.

“I’m leaving,” Noah said, coming into the kitchen and putting his empty cup in the sink. He kissed Laney’s cheek. “I’ll see you guys there.”

“Okay . . . oh! What time did you say your parents are coming tonight?”

“I don’t think I said a time,” he replied uncertainly. “They’ll be in church, though, so you can ask them.” He looked at the boys. “Grandpa said he’d like to hear some poems tonight, so be prepared.”

Asher was just coming in with Halle. “I have my poem!” he announced.

“You do?”

Asher nodded, beaming. “I picked it out after our last poetry night.”

“Good for you,” Noah said, ruffling his hair and eyeing his other sons. “You guys should learn from your little brother.” And as he stood to leave, he looked down. “Hmm, looks like there’s a puddle here.”

Asher looked down too. “That wasn’t there before. Maybe Mennie did it.”

“Mennie didn’t do it, Ash. But don’t worry. Halle’s not in trouble.”

Laney reached for the paper towels. “I guess we should leave her in the crate then.” She motioned to the ancient dog crate Noah had pulled out of the basement the day before when he wasn’t getting anywhere with his sermon.

“Do we have to?” Asher groaned. “She just spent the night in there. It’s not very cozy.”

“It’s the best place, Ash. She can’t get in trouble, and she’ll be safe. It’s just at night and when we’re not here—until she’s housebroken.”

“Can we at least put her bed in there?”

Laney looked perplexed as she wiped up the puddle. “Oh, hon, we can’t put her bed in there. What if she has an accident?”

“Lane, I’m leaving,” Noah said. “You got this?”

“Yes, dear,” she said, giving him a wilting look. “I’ve got it.”

“You guys help Mom,” he called to the boys as the door swung shut behind him.

Laney finished cleaning up the puddle and put the cat food out on the porch. “Ash, did you have breakfast?”

He shook his head, and she suddenly remembered the treat they’d picked up after they’d ordered his new glasses. “Do you want a doughnut?”

Four other heads looked up in surprise. “We have
doughnuts
?”

Laney pulled a bag of cider doughnuts from behind the coffeepot and handed it to Asher.

He grinned. “I forgot we got these, Mom,” he said, beaming. He reached in, pulled one out, and took a big sugary bite. Immediately, his brothers all clambered for the bag.

“Hey!” Laney shouted, and they stopped. “There’s enough for everyone,” she said calmly. Then she eyed her fourteen-year-old. “
You
are not wearing jeans and a T-shirt to church. Go find nice pants and a button-down shirt.”

“I don’t have any nice pants. They’re all too short. Besides, everyone wears jeans.”

Laney looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time—when had he gotten so tall? He was standing next to Ben, and it dawned on her that they were practically the same height. She shook her head. “Not everyone, dear
. We
don’t. Maybe Ben has a pair that will fit you.”

Seth grumbled, knowing there was no point in arguing, and Laney sighed. When she was a girl, she’d always worn a dress to church—her Sunday best—and her brother Lyle had always worn pressed slacks and a button-down.
Those days are long gone,
she thought sadly.
Pretty soon, people will be wearing shorts and T-shirts!
She glanced at the clock. “Leaving in five—plan accordingly,” she called as she ran up the stairs.

Noah looked out at his congregation. It was Memorial Day weekend and the sanctuary was almost full, so he decided people were taking advantage of the nice weather and opening up their summer homes early. He scanned the sea of faces, looking for his parents, and his dad caught his eye and smiled. Noah smiled back. Then he glanced at his watch and frowned. It wasn’t the first time his family was late. In fact, it was unusual if they weren’t late, but he’d hoped Laney would be there for the first hymn. He nodded to the organist, and she ended the interlude with a playful flourish.

“Welcome!” he began. “This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” He glanced at his bulletin. “Would everyone please stand and join in singing our opening hymn, number twenty-six?” He leafed through his hymnal, hoping Laney would get there soon, and as he turned the pages, he heard a loud commotion in the vestibule, and then his oldest son pushed open the door and Laney—who’d been wearing baggy sweatpants and a Nike
JUST DO IT
T-shirt when he’d left—swept in, wearing a light sea-green linen sundress. She looked stunning. But then again, she looked stunning no matter what she was wearing—his favorite being nothing at all! He watched as she masterfully ushered their five boys down the aisle and into the pew in front of his parents, and then slipped in before E so he could sit on the end. His dad leaned forward and handed Laney his open hymnal, and Laney, hearing the beginning notes of the familiar hymn, looked up at Noah and smiled. Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”—also known as “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee”
—
was one of the hymns they’d played at their wedding.