by Pam Webber
“I get that. And I will.” Nettie stood, positioning the chair between her and Mr. Danes. “But not here and not now.”
He stood and put his hands in his pockets. “Confession is hard but needed.”
Nettie put her hand on the doorknob. “Then I’ll talk with God.”
“Why just God?”
“Because Martin Luther, John Calvin, and Mrs. Mac said I could.” The door banged the chair as she left.
“Nettie, wait.”
She kept walking.
Moving through the ebb and flow of her streetlight shadow, Nettie stopped at a hedge of honeysuckle and buried her face in a cluster of blossoms. Unlike Nibi’s Angel Water, the sweet aroma did little to clear her concern about the possible consequences of mouthing off to Mr. Danes. She didn’t care what he said; she wasn’t going to talk with him about River’s Rest. Those moments belonged to her and Andy. And God.
Mrs. Smith’s Chrysler pulled up to the sidewalk. Ethan leaned over and rolled down the passenger window. “Hey, cutie. Want a ride?”
“Perfect timing.” Nettie climbed in, grateful for the diversion. “What are you doing out and about?”
“Going to the Tastee Freez. Want to come?”
“It’s a little late for ice cream, isn’t it?”
“It’s never too late for ice cream. Besides, Grams and Cal are on the phone with my father. I didn’t want to hear the arguing all over again.”
“Situation isn’t any better?”
“Judging by the number of phone calls and the amount of yelling, no.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan’s hand dropped from the wheel. “You know what I don’t understand? My father says he loves my mother, that the affair didn’t mean anything—it was just sex. My mother says she loves him but the sex means everything. She can’t forgive him.”
“How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I love him—he’s my father. But right now I don’t like him very much.”
“Do you forgive him?”
“Sometimes I think I can. Then I hear my mother crying and I get angry at him all over again.”
“How did you all find out about your father’s affair?”
“He told my mother; then he told Cal and me.”
“He confessed?”
Ethan nodded. “He said he loved us and had made a terrible mistake. He apologized and wanted to start fresh, but that doesn’t seem to matter. My mother keeps saying that if he really loved us, he would never have cheated.”
“Earthly desires.”
“What?”
“Just something Mr. Danes said tonight.”
“Grams told Dad it wasn’t as much about sex and love as it was about trust and betrayal. The greater the trust, the worse the damage, even in the betrayer.”
“Love turned inside out.”
“Exactly.”
“Think your mom will ever forgive him?”
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. Grams says she needs to wait to make a decision, to let the storm wear itself out.”
“Sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.”
“I hope so. Right now, she’s the only thing holding my family together.”
Ethan’s pain tugged at Nettie’s heart, but his confusion about love, sex, and betrayal just added to her already fuzzy thoughts. She needed to think about something else for a while.
“You’re right. It’s never too late for ice cream. Let’s go.”
As they turned into the parking lot of the Tastee Freez, Nettie spotted a familiar car. “Andy’s here.”
“Want to leave?” Ethan gave her a way out, but his voice dared her not to take it.
“No.”
He glided the Chrysler into the space next to Andy’s. Smoothing her hair, Nettie watched Andy watch her get out of the car. Two half-empty ice cream cups sat on his dash. Anne leaned against the passenger door, a napkin scrunched in her hand. She turned away, trying to hide red-rimmed eyes that glowed in the fluorescent light.
Ordering chocolate-and-vanilla swirls, Nettie and Ethan sat at a picnic table facing the parking lot.
Nettie glanced at Andy’s car between licks. “Anne doesn’t look happy.”
“Doesn’t take a mind reader to know what’s going on.”
“They’re arguing.”
“More like they’re breaking up.”
“How can they be breaking up? They weren’t going steady.”
“You know what I mean.”
“How can you tell?”
“I thought girls were supposed to be intuitive about these things.”
“Get serious.”
“You’re such a spoil sport.”
“Ethan, please.”
“Oh, all right. Andy’s the only one talking. If they were fighting, the conversation would be going back and forth.”
Nettie quit trying to be discreet. Ethan had nailed it. Anne stared ahead while Andy talked calmly, his brow slightly furrowed, his lips unsmiling. Nettie pretended to work on her drippy ice cream cone as Andy got out of the car to throw away the trash. His eyes didn’t leave Nettie until he started the car.
For a fleeting moment, Nettie felt sorry for Anne, but that quickly changed as she met the girl’s dagger-throwing eyes. “I think you’re right.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. What do I say? ‘Hey, Andy, I’m glad you broke up with Anne. I want to be in your life, but I’m not sure we’ll be together a year from now’? That would go over well.”
“You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”
“Oh, really? How?”
“We’ve been over this. If you love the guy, tell him. Let the future take care of itself.”
The lights of the Tastee Freez flickered off as they opened the doors of the Chrysler.
Maybe Ethan had a point. “Why does love have to be all or nothing?”
“Because we need to be able to count on it.”
Nettie waved goodbye as Ethan pulled out of her driveway. The stars were vivid against the black-velvet sky, but their sparkle did little to clear her thinking. As she locked the front door, her father called out from the family room. “You’re a little late tonight.”
“Yes, sir. The meeting with Mr. Danes went a longer than usual; then Ethan and I went for ice cream.”
“What did you all talk about in your session this time?” her mom asked.
“Sin, consequences, and confession.” Nettie crossed her fingers, hoping her mother wouldn’t press for details.
“That sounds pretty intense.”
Nettie just nodded.
“Did Mr. Danes say how much longer you’d have to meet with him?” her dad asked.
“No, sir. But it shouldn’t be much longer. Pastor Williams said we’d talk again in August.” Nettie kissed them both. “Good night.”
“Sleep tight.”
Upstairs, her little brother’s room was dark, but light still shone under Sam’s door. Over the years, her sister’s practical advice had helped Nettie make some tough decisions; maybe it would again. She raised her hand to knock, then lowered it. Deep down, she knew who she needed to talk with.
A wispy breeze filled Nettie’s room with the calming smell of lilac. She pulled baby-doll pajamas over her head and turned out the light. Kneeling on throw pillows covering the window seat, she closed her eyes. Jumbled thoughts about Andy, Anne, Ethan, Mr. Danes, love, sex, betrayal, and confession vied for attention as she talked with God. She had no answers by the time she uttered “amen,” but at least some of the questions had begun to take form, and she knew what she needed to do. She would call Andy in the morning.
Nettie opened her eyes to the warmth of a neighborhood bathed in moon milk. Across the street, in the shadow of a large maple tree, sat Andy’s car. Sliding into her robe and slippers,
she tiptoed down the stairs. Quietly unlocking the door, she eased outside just as the taillights disappeared toward Main Street.
Allen’s Hill shimmered with thousands of yellow, blue, and violet wildflowers. Mixed with grass turning to hay, they provided a perfect ocean for the scattered islands of emerald trees and squatty bushes. In the distance, the farmer who bush-hogged the hill for winter cattle feed checked his blades. By evening, the flowers and grass would have to start all over.
Nettie and Win sat in the shade of their favorite tree, picnicking on cheese straws and Fanta. At the top of the hill, the housekeeper carried grocery bags into Alise Allen’s side door.
Win snapped her fingers. “Will you stop staring at the house?”
Leafy limbs shadowed the mansion’s Palladian window, making it impossible to see if anyone happened to be looking back. “You know she’s watching us. One of these days, she just might wave or even stroll down here to say hi.”
“Dreamer.”
“We haven’t seen the nighttime visitor in a while.”
“That’s no surprise. When was the last time we were on the hill at night? It’s been a busy summer.”
“True. I hope he or she is still coming. I imagine that big old house can get really lonely. Maybe we can start watching the path again when I finish with Mr. Danes.”
“How’d the session go last night?”
Nettie twirled a dandelion between her fingers. “Weird. He wanted me to talk about my sins of the flesh.”
“Your what?”
“Sex. He wanted to know if I was having sex.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
“Was he asking about you and Andy or you and Ethan?”
“Me and Ethan? Are you nuts? Nothing’s going on between us. And nothing happened with Andy.”
“Mr. Danes doesn’t know that. Maybe Pastor Williams told him you and Andy were having trouble. He might be trying to figure out if you’re seeing someone else.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m having sex. Besides, what does it matter? He wasn’t asking who; he was asking if.”
“It seems logical that if he’d ask about one, he’d ask about the other. Just be prepared in case he does.”
“It’s none of his business if or who.”
“Why was he asking about it in the first place?”
“He said to be baptized, I need to confess my sins.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’d work it out with God.”
“Good answer. Was he drinking?”
“I couldn’t smell anything.”
“I know you don’t want to say anything, but Pastor Williams needs to know what he’s doing.”
“I can’t. Not yet. Pastor Williams already thinks I’m the spawn of Satan. Plus, he hasn’t believed me all summer—what makes you think he’ll believe me now? He’ll probably just use it as an excuse not to baptize me. Besides, I can’t prove anything.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Figure out how to get Mr. Danes to talk about something other than sex. Lord knows I have a pile of other sins he can choose from. If I can just hang in there a little while longer, maybe I can get these meetings over with.”
“I’ll wait and walk home with you next Wednesday. That way, if Mr. Danes gets weird again, you won’t be by yourself.”
“Ethan and I went to the Tastee Freez last night. Andy and Anne were there. She didn’t look happy.”
“Does she ever?”
“Good point. Ethan said they looked like they were breaking up.”
“How can they break up? They weren’t going steady. Were they?”
“How would I know? But Andy’s car was sitting outside my house a little while later. He left before I could get out the door.”
“At least he came. That’s a good sign.”
“That’s what I thought until I called him this morning. His dad said he was going to be out of town for a while.”
“Where’d he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It didn’t feel right. It’s not any of my business. I left a message asking him to call me when he gets home.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say when he does?”
“No. Let’s talk about something else, please.”
“Okay. I think I know where we might find owl feathers.”
Nettie groaned and fell back, sending a flurry of bugs into the air. “Let me guess. The feathers are at the top of Mount Whatever, and it’s a three-day hike straight up.”
Win giggled and kicked her foot. “No, silly. Remember the fire on Afton Mountain a couple of years ago? My dad remembered firefighters talking about seeing a white owl when they were building a break line near the top. The fire never made it that far, so maybe the owl stayed. They’re supposed to be territorial birds. Cal said he and Ethan would drive us up there.”
Nettie pushed up on her elbows. “I assume we’re looking for a deserted nest with feathers?”
“Unless by some miracle one decided to spend the summer down here.”
“Now who’s dreaming? We’ll need to stop by Nibi’s on the way. Ethan wants to see the dreamcatchers.”
Chapter 12
Half a mile past the Route 56 bridge, Ethan turned the Chrysler onto an old logging road with deep ruts that rocked the car like a slow-moving boat. Nettie put her hand out the window to skim leaves still damp with morning dew. The last time she’d come to Nibi’s the back way, Andy had been driving. “It gets a little rougher at the top.”
“Rougher? You’re kidding. How often do you all come this way?”
“Not often. If it’s just us, we take the train and walk up from the river. It’s steeper but a lot shorter.”
Thirty minutes later, Ethan stopped the car when the rear bumper scraped dirt at the turnoff to Nibi’s. “I’m afraid we’re going to lose Gram’s muffler if we drive much farther. Can we walk the rest of the way?”
“Sure. It’s not far.”
Ethan pulled to the side of the road and parked under low-hanging limbs and vines. The four of them climbed out the driver’s side and headed down the long dirt driveway.
As they rounded the first turn, the forested slope opened onto a rocky overlook, the gift of a long-ago mudslide. Rockfish Valley lay before them in all its summer glory.
“Welcome to Lookout Point.” Win pointed to two specks halfway down the mountain. “There’s Nibi’s house and barn, and across the river is Oak’s Landing.”
Ethan whistled. “That’s some view. No wonder your grandmother likes living up here.”
“You should see it when the colors change.”
Strolling back into the shaded part of the lane, Nettie and Ethan took the lead, chatting for a while, then letting the peace and quiet of the forest surround them. Halfway down, Ethan stopped. “I need to make a pit stop. Wait for me.” Leaving the road, he pushed through heavy, tangled brush and disappeared behind a large hackberry tree.
He’d been gone several minutes, when the low-lying brush around the tree began to rustle.
“Ethan, watch your step,” Win said calmly.
Nettie squatted to see if she could get a better look under the brush. “Can’t see anything, but the noise is too soft to be a bear.”
Cal scanned the woods. “Deer, maybe?”
“Smaller,” Win said.
“Small is good. Can’t be too serious if it’s small, right? C’mon, Ethan, what’s taking so long?”
With his back and hands tight against the trunk, Ethan slowly circled to the front of the tree, face ashen, eyes wide. Rustling brush surrounded him.
“What is it?” Nettie whispered, as she and the others backed up.
Ethan gave a nervous shake of his head. Time went into slow motion as he eased through the brush and onto the road, surrounded by a large family of skunks.
Ne
ttie and Win froze, but Cal’s screechy “Oh, shit!” and sudden turn interrupted the peaceful migration of the black-and-white family. The startled mother hissed, stamped her paw, and raised her tail in a stiff salute. She and her half dozen offspring filled the air with a repeating chorus of pssssssts, accurately sending an oily green cloud of noxious fumes over everyone.
Partially blinded by burning, weepy eyes, and hampered by gagging and coughing, Nettie yelled, “Run!” Then she and Win took off before the furry family could douse them again. They hadn’t gone far when Cal stopped, retched, and dropped to his knees, vomiting. Ethan tried to help him up but struggled to find good air. He pulled his saturated shirt over his nose, then quickly pulled it back down. His eyes pleaded for help.
Doubling back, Nettie and Win turned their shirts around and pulled their collars over their noses. The lack of a direct hit lessened the smell just enough that they could breathe.
Ethan fought to turn his shirt as Nettie gave him a push down the road. “Keep going.” She and Win got Cal to his feet, half dragging him down the road and around the bend.
When they were away from everything but their own stench, Nettie and Win sat Cal down.
“Ethan, you stay with Cal,” Win said. “Nettie and I’ll be right back.”
Splitting up, they dove into the woods. From experience, they knew which plants would cut the smell.
“Win, here’s some wisteria.”
They each stripped a vine, crushed some of the leaves, and rubbed the sticky liquid under and in their noses. Taking the rest of the leaves, they hurried back and did the same for Ethan and Cal.
Once Win painted Cal’s upper lip and nose, he lay down in the road, pale but breathing. “Thank God for whatever that stuff is. I thought I was going to die.”
“Why’d you run like that?” Win snapped. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to freeze?”
“How would I know that? I live in a city, remember?” Sitting up, he stared at his brother. “Besides, Ethan’s the one who led them straight to us.”
“I’m sorry. They came up from behind and surrounded me. They were digging holes all around the tree, eating some kind of fat white worm. They didn’t seem to mind me being there, so I figured I could ease my way out, but they followed me. I hoped they’d just keep going.”
