by Rachel Hanna
He reached for the tacklebox a couple of feet away and popped it open, pulling out a fishing lure. “It's pretty easy. You just put this thing on your hook like this.”
She watched him carefully, trying to seem overly interested. Right now, she really just wanted to go back to the bookstore where she felt comfortable. But in the back of her mind, she kept thinking about how Dawson might actually try to adopt this little boy, and he would be in her life. That is, if their relationship survived. Lately, it seemed like Dawson was trying to stay away from her, and that made her feel sad and a little bit nervous.
“Okay. Can you hand me one of those?”
Dylan sighed and reached into the tacklebox, pulling out a bright green worm with glitter inside. It struck Julie that it was kind of cute. She took it from his chubby little hand and attached it to her hook.
“Then you have to turn the little handle like this,” he said, obviously not using the technical terms. Julie followed what he did and tightened up her line.
“Like this?”
He nodded. “Then, you flip this little thing over, hold your line and pull your fishing pole back like this,” he said, stretching his right arm out beside him. Julie didn't have enough room to do that, so she scooted down a few feet. “And then you swing it out like this and let go of the line. Once it hits the water, you need to reel it in a little bit like this.”
Now he seemed to be loosening up. He flung his fishing line out into the water, tightened up the line and then sat there looking at her. She did the same, trying to remember the few times she’d been fishing in her life as a kid.
She pulled her hand back and flung her line, but instead of it going into the water, the hook attached to the back of Dylan's shirt, narrowly missing his skin. Her fishing pole bent, almost to the point of breaking, before she realized what had happened. Dylan, obviously shocked by being caught with the hook, turned his head as far as he could to see what was on his shirt.
Julie stared at him, her fishing pole attached to him. Within seconds, she started laughing hysterically, probably out of nervousness more than anything. “Looks like I caught myself a big one!”
Dylan stared at her, his eyes wide. Thankfully, he started giggling. “I don't think you did that right!”
Before they knew it, they were both crying with laughter as Julie tried to figure out how to get the hook out of his T-shirt. It took a few moments, but she finally did, and she managed to do it without sticking it right through her own fingers.
She laid the fishing pole down on the dock. “Maybe I'm not cut out for this.”
Dylan reeled in his line and put it down beside him. “You can't give up. Sometimes things are really hard when you first try them, but you have to just keep trying. If you quit, you'll always be a loser.”
She was struck by his matter of fact way of speaking. “Well, I have to say that's very smart, Dylan. And you're right. Quitters never win.”
Dylan threw his line back out again while Julie watched him, opting to take a break from her own fishing. For some reason, she felt an urge to get to know this kid. There was no reason to be scared of an eight-year-old.
“So, are you looking forward to going back to school after spring break?”
He shrugged his shoulders as he stared out over the water. “I guess so. I don't really like my school.”
“Really? I remember when I was your age, I loved school. They had this thing called Super Kid at my school.”
“What is Super Kid?”
“Every week, the teacher could nominate a student to be Super Kid. You got your name on the board in the hallway and this really big pin to wear on your shirt. And then you got to go to the principal’s office for a party where you got new pencils and candy.”
“We don't have that at my school. Besides, I don’t think I’d be nominated for Super Kid.”
“Why don't you like school?”
“People make fun of me.”
Her heart sank. Julie had never experienced bullying. She’d been lucky to be one of the popular kids for most of her school years. "Why do they make fun of you, Dylan?"
“Because I don't have any parents.”
“But you have your foster parents, right?”
He looked at her. “Those aren't real parents. Everybody knows that my mom didn't want me and my daddy died. They call me the poor kid.”
“That's wrong. Those aren’t very nice people.”
“They tell me that nobody really wants me and that my foster parents have me because they get money to keep me. But I think they might be right because I still don't have real parents. Nobody ever picks me.”
“Dylan, you're an amazing kid. You're funny and smart and I know the perfect parents are going to come along.”
“There are kids in my foster home who are almost teenagers. They told me that they never got picked. What if I never get picked?”
He stared at her with those big green eyes, and she didn't have an answer for him. She didn't understand his life. Thankfully, she had never experienced anything like that. Staring into his eyes, she felt ill equipped to reassure him or answer his questions.
“You can't give up. Remember quitters never win. God has the perfect parents in mind for you.”
“But he didn't have the perfect parents for those other kids?”
She wanted to cry. She wanted to run. She felt like the world’s worst adult for not having answers for this kid. “You know what, Dylan, life isn't fair. And I would be lying to you if I said I knew the right answer. Sometimes, things just stink. But, I do know that most of the time, things work out in the end.”
“I sure hope they work out for me one day. I want a real home with my own room. I'm tired of the kids saying mean things to me.”
“I’m sorry, Dylan. I'll say extra prayers for you to find a good home, okay?” Prayers were good, but were they enough for Dylan? Was it a cop out for her to offer to pray but do nothing else to help him?
“Mr. Dawson said the same thing. I hope those prayers work.” He reeled in his line again and set his pole beside him. “Sometimes, I miss my dad.”
She rubbed his little shoulder. “I’m sure you do. I lost my dad too, and it was very hard.”
He nodded. “He did some bad things, but he was my dad. One time, he made me blueberry pancakes and we ate them in bed. That was so fun.”
“Blueberry pancakes are my favorite.” She didn't know what to say. There was absolutely nothing she could say or do to make it better.
“I wish my dad had been like Mr. Dawson. He's so fun and goofy.” Dylan looked at her, a slight smile on his face.
“Yes, he is,” she said, smiling herself. “Goofy is a good word to describe him.”
“Are you his wife?”
She chuckled. “No, I’m not. We’re just really good friends.”
“Oh. I think he likes you a lot. He told me how nice you are and that he likes spending time with you.”
“He told me the same thing about you,” she said. Dylan grinned.
“He did?”
“He sure did. Dawson really thinks a lot of you, and he’s pretty smart. Definitely smarter than those mean kids at your school.”
Dylan nodded. “I think you’re nice.”
Julie smiled. “Thank you, Dylan. I think you’re very nice too. I’m glad I got to know you today.”
“Okay, let’s get back to fishing. You can’t quit. But this time, please don’t catch me instead of a fish!” He giggled and picked up his pole once again. As Julie watched him, she couldn’t understand why no one had picked Dylan to be their son, and she couldn’t imagine Dawson not becoming his father either.
Dixie stood in front of Harry with her hands on her hips. After explaining her plan to him, he still looked confused.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Dixie cackled with laughter. “Honey, I'm never sure anything I think up is a good idea but that hasn't stopped me from doing it.”
“What if
you cause a whole ruckus?”
She waved her hand at him. “I don't mind causing a ruckus. Sometimes you have to shake things up a little!”
“And you're not going to tell anyone about this?”
She shook her head. “Not a soul. If I tell somebody, they'll try to talk me out of it, and I know I'm right about this.”
“Sugar, it seems a little bit pushy. Don't you think you should let people make decisions for themselves?”
She walked over and sat down beside him on the sofa, squeezing his leg. “People don't always know what's good for them.”
“You might ruin a friendship over this.”
“I don't think so. Look, I know I'm doing the right thing. Sometimes you just have to take the bull by the horns.”
He smiled and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “Well, I fell in love with you because you're a spitfire, so I guess I shouldn't try to stop you now.”
She laughed. “It wouldn't do you any good anyway, sweetheart. You just be there to back me up, okay?”
“Always.”
SuAnn stood behind the counter in the bakery, staring out the plate glass window at the square beyond. Today, she was alone because Darcy had to take her baby to the doctor for a check up. She didn't mind being alone as it gave her some time to think.
Traffic in the bakery had been pretty slow today, and she was enjoying the downtime. After the couple of weeks of preparing for the pie bake off, she needed a break. Of course, she would've liked to have won the contest so that all that time was worth it.
Watching Henrietta Bankston win had made her sick to her stomach. That woman didn't deserve anything, and certainly not the title of best pie. She knew hers was better, but she didn't understand the politics of whatever was going on in the town.
“Welcome to Hotcakes,” she said as a man walked in. He was well-dressed, wearing a nice suit, and he certainly didn't look like he was interested in eating poundcake. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for SuAnn.”
“That's me. And you are?”
“My name is Alton Fisher. I'm on the board of commissioners.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you,” she said, unsure of why he was there.
“I’m going to cut right to the chase. I understand that you competed in the pie bake off a few days ago?” He asked, looking behind him as if he was afraid he was being watched.
“Yes, I did. I was the runner-up.”
“Actually, you weren’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, I don't normally make it a habit to go outside of the ranks of the county commission, but I just couldn't hold my tongue. You see, we found out that there were some inconsistencies in the voting. In a nutshell, you won by several votes. But, Henrietta has a lot more power, if you get my drift.”
SuAnn couldn't believe what she was hearing. She stood there, her mouth hanging open. “So, I won?”
“You won.”
SuAnn laughed. “So that old bat messed with the votes?”
He struggled not to laugh. “It appears that Henrietta Bankston was involved in some fraudulent behavior, yes. But I won't go as far as calling her an old bat. Even though I might think so.”
SuAnn came out from behind the counter and rubbed her hands down the front of her apron to get the flour off. “Now what?”
“Well, I only found out this information an hour or so ago. You know, I have small kids, and I teach them about integrity and honesty. I just couldn't go without telling you the truth.”
“But, is this going to be addressed in some way?”
“I don't know how much you know about small-town politics, ma'am, but it can be worse than what you see in Washington D.C.. I'm not sure I can do anything to help you right the wrong.”
“Oh.”
“I was hoping just knowing that you were the actual winner would be enough.”
“Yeah, it's not. Henrietta Bankston needs to be put in her place.”
“I wish I could help you do that.”
“Me too.”
“Well, I should be going. I hope you'll keep my name out of this?”
She smiled and reached out her hand to shake his. “I will. And thank you for coming here to let me know the real truth. I do appreciate that.”
Mr. Fisher turned around and walked to the door, turning back before he exited. “Welcome to Seagrove.”
As he walked down the sidewalk, SuAnn smiled to herself. Oh, she was going to get old Hen back if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter Eleven
Dawson couldn't believe it was the last day of camp. Julie had been there all day helping out, although their paths hadn’t crossed very much. He didn't know what to say to her. On the one hand, he wanted to drop to one knee and propose, tell her he was going to adopt Dylan and ride off into the sunset as a happy family.
On the other hand, his stomach churned every time he thought about talking to her about adoption. He didn't want to lose her or their relationship. He loved her more than he could describe, and the thought of things breaking apart were almost too much to bear.
As he watched Dylan play with the other kids, he couldn't imagine not seeing him every day. The last week had been life-changing for him, and he already thought of Dylan like he was his son. Sometimes, he felt like his son, Gavin, was speaking to him from heaven.
In fact, last night he’d had a dream about Gavin. They were out in an old fishing boat, and Gavin was telling him it was time. Dawson kept asking him time for what, but Gavin just kept saying it was time. It startled him so much that he had woken up with his heart pounding.
“Can you believe it's over?” Colleen asked as she walked up beside him.
“I can't. What an amazing week.”
“Yeah, I hope we can do this again next year. I've really enjoyed getting to know these kids.”
“Me too. It's going to be awfully quiet around here tomorrow.”
Colleen walked off to help one of the children tie their shoe, and Dawson looked at Dylan again. He was waving from across the yard, a big grin on his face.
“Hey,” Julie said from behind him.
“Hey. I was just telling Colleen how quiet it's going to be here tomorrow.”
She walked over and slid her arm around his waist, resting her head just below his shoulder.
“I know you're going to miss these kids, but especially Dylan.”
He looked down at her. “Yeah. I like that kid.”
“He likes you too. He told me so when we were fishing today.”
Dawson laughed. “You went fishing with Dylan?”
“Colleen put us together. I think she thought it was funny, but I ended up putting a hook in the back of his T-shirt.”
Dawson laughed loudly. “Really? I would've loved to have seen that!”
“It was a funny moment, but thankfully I didn't hurt him or me. We didn't catch one fish, but we had a wonderful conversation. He's a special little guy. I hope he finds a good home soon.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Dawson said. It was obvious that she wasn't thinking that home could be Dawson's. She was thinking of some other family that would come along and sweep him up, and the thought of that made Dawson sad. He wanted Dylan to have a good home, of course, but he wanted it to be his.
“Listen, I want to talk to you later. Do you think we could meet up for dinner down on the dock?”
“Sure. Besides, I have to get going. I need to help Dixie at the bookstore for a few hours.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you around seven?”
“Seven it is.” She rose up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
As she walked off to her car, Dawson wondered what was going to happen after they talked. He didn't even know what he was planning to say. He just knew they needed to clear the air, and he hoped at the end of it they would still be together.
Julie walked into the bookstore, her heart heavy. She had a sinking feeling about her meeting with Dawson tonight. Maybe he
was going to break up with her. Maybe he would choose to be a single father and focus on that without the added stress of having a girlfriend.
Dixie was on her cell phone behind one of the bookcases when she walked in, so she reached around and stopped the bell from dinging and interrupting her conversation.
“Right… on Sunday… three tiers… green… really beachy…” Dixie turned and noticed Julie standing there. “I need to go, Stella. I’ll give you a call back in the morning, okay?” She pressed end on her phone and smiled. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Julie sat down in the chair. “I didn’t want to interrupt your phone call. What was that about?”
“Well, I wanted to help out with the reception,” Dixie said, scrunching her nose.
“What? No! This is our gift to you!”
“I ran into Stella who runs the City Street Bakery. When she told me all that you’d ordered, I just didn’t feel right letting you do all of that.”
“But she’s across town! We thought for sure you wouldn’t know her.”
“Stella’s grandma and I played cards together years ago.”
“Of course,” Julie said, rolling her eyes. “So that’s who you were on the phone with just now?”
“Yes. I was just ordering a little cake so I could smash it in my beloved’s face.”
“We were getting cake, Dixie,” Julie groaned.
Dixie shrugged her shoulders. “You can never have too much cake, darlin’. Don’t fret.”
“Stella shouldn’t have even taken your order. She knows what we’ve got planned.”
Dixie chuckled. “I’m a pushy broad when I want to be. Don’t be mad at her. Say, you seem like your feathers are ruffled about something. What’s going on?”
Julie put her head on the table. “I think Dawson might be breaking up with me tonight.”
“What?”
“He wants to have dinner on the dock at seven to ‘talk’.”
“And?”
Julie looked up. “When has talking ever been a good thing?”
“You had me worried for a minute. Maybe he just wants to catch up after a busy week.”
