Hanging Stars On Big Willow Creek: A Novel

by Sarah Hill

  SARAH HILL

  Hanging Stars on Big Willow Creek

  A Novel

  First Published by KDP Kindle Direct Publishing 2020

  Copyright © 2020 by Sarah Hill

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work f fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition

  ISBN: 9798561307010

  Imprint: Independently published

  Editing by Heather Carter

  Cover Art by M Design and Sarah Hill

  To my heart, Randy,

  for always cheering me on

  and believing in me more

  than I ever will.

  ♥

  Table of Contents

  October 9, 2010 ~ Morning

  August 1982

  October 9, 2010 – Early Evening

  September 1982

  October 1982

  November 1982

  October 10, 2010 – Early Morning

  April 1987

  October 10, 2010

  October 1987 ~ Morning

  October 1987 – Evening

  October 11, 2010 ~ Morning

  May 1989

  April 1990

  May 1990

  October 2010 ~ Morning

  May 1990

  May 1990 ~ Evening

  October 11, 20010 ~ Afternoon

  October 11, 2010 ~ Evening

  October 12, 2010 ~ Morning

  October 12, 2010 – Afternoon

  October 13, 2010 ~ Morning

  October 13, 2010 – Evening

  October 14, 2010

  October 15, 2010 ~ Morning

  October 15, 2010- Evening

  October 17, 2010

  October 18, 2010 ~ Afternoon

  October 18, 2010 ~ Evening

  June 2017

  Acknowledgements

  October 9, 2010 ~ Morning

  Rylie poured herself a cup of coffee and looked out onto the Manhattan skyline before grabbing the remote and turning on the television with a yawn. The local morning news broke the silence as it echoed from the living room into the kitchen where she stood at the counter. She absently listened as the weather girl pointed at areas on the map behind her explaining the northeastern flow that would bring in the latest cold front. Taking a sip from her mug, she switched her attention to the Macy’s ad laying on the counter and thumbed through the sales. They were having a sweater sale; she’d have to make some time to stop by and grab some for Spencer, Alex and herself. Sighing, she set her coffee mug on top of the ad and left the kitchen, making her way down the hall. Rylie stopped in front of a door decorated in all things Harry Potter. There was a mural painted on it by an artist they’d found on a trip to Red Hook one weekend. It showed Hogwarts atop rolling hills and a Quidditch pitch below it. The Gryffindor House crest, pennant and scarf were strategically pinned to frame the mural. Alex had also hung the broom and an animatronic golden snitch he’d acquired from a trip to Universal Studios on the door. Smiling, Rylie knocked on the door before she cracked it open and peeked into the darkness.

  “Alex. Hey sweetheart. It’s time to get up,” Rylie whispered, opening the door wider to allow the light to creep in.

  “Not yet,” a small voice squeaked beneath the blankets.

  Rylie tip-toed across the floor and knelt beside the bed. “Come on love, it’s time to start your day. You have show-and-tell today. Don’t you want to take your wizard’s chess board to show all your friends?” She pulled his covers back to reveal a mess of straight brown hair. It may be time for a haircut, she thought to herself as she ran her fingers through his thick hair.

  Alex pushed his hair out of his face and smiled. “I forgot. Can I play a few games with them at recess?” he asked. The exhilarated look in his blue eyes melted her heart.

  Rylie kissed the tip of his nose and said, “If you can promise you won’t lose any of the pieces, I think that’s doable. You might even get your dad to play a game when he gets home tonight.”

  Alex jumped out of bed, not bothered that his mom could see his underwear clad bottom and ran across the room to his closet to dig the chess game out. He emerged from the closet seconds later hugging the game to his bare chest and said, “Nobody can win me. I’m a master like Ron Weasley.” He walked back over to the bed and leaned against Rylie as he looked at the box in awe and added, “Maybe someday they’ll make one with moving chess pieces.”

  Rylie laughed and grabbed the game box from his hands. “Maybe they will,” she said. “But right now, you need to get dressed for school or you won’t get to play any games.”

  Alex’s shoulders sagged and he cocked his head to the side as he looked at his mom with one eye closed and said, “Ok. But you have to leave first.”

  Rylie got up from the bed. “You have ten minutes,” she said. “Do you want honey toast or fruit and yogurt for breakfast?” She stopped by the door and looked back at him, waiting for an answer.

  Alex scrunched up his face and said, “Hmmm, I think honey toast today, please.”

  “Ten minutes,” Rylie repeated as she closed the door.

  Her husband, Spencer, was leaning against the counter drinking coffee and reading the sports section of the paper when she entered the kitchen. He was an attractive man with dark, short wavy hair, honey brown eyes and a strong jawline. She dwarfed him by at least a foot. Alex got his freckles from his dad. They both had a light patch that spread from their nose and across their cheeks. He looked at her from over the mug and took a deep gulp of coffee before setting the paper and mug on the counter. Walking over to her he kissed her forehead. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, with a smile.

  “Morning. Sleep well?” she asked, walking over to the bread box and sliding the top open.

  “I did. You?”

  “Like a baby. Those new pillows are like clouds,” she said, popping two slices of bread into the toaster and turning to him.

  “Honey toast again?” he asked, motioning towards the toaster.

  Rylie glanced at the toaster and nodded. “Seems to be his go to lately,” she said. Looking back at Spencer, she asked, “Any exciting plans for the day?”

  Spencer took another sip of coffee and shook his head. “Closing on another house. Nothing as exciting as what you’re doing.” He walked up behind her, slid his arms around her waist and asked, “Excited?”

  Rylie shrugged and said, “Releasing a new book is always exciting.” She turned to face him and leaned her cheek against his chest. “And scary. What if this is the one that bombs so badly, they take away my pen? What if it gets bad reviews?”

  “It will,” Spencer said, drawing her in closer and kissing the top of her head. “There are always bad reviews Rye. You just read past them. You know that. Besides,” he said, letting her go and picking up his mug, “your books keep getting better. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.” She turned to grab the toast out of the toaster. “Did you want anything for breakfast?” she asked, spreading butter and honey over the slices.

  “I’m good. I’ll grab something at the coffee shop on my way in.”

  A phone rang in the distance. Rylie paused, laying the butter knife
on the counter.

  “I’ll grab it for you, sweetheart. I need to get dressed anyway,” Spencer said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.

  “Thank you.” Rylie smiled as she turned back to Alex’s honey toast. She poured a glass of orange juice and took it and the plate of toast over to the small kitchen table. Looking down the hallway she called, “Alex, time is up. Breakfast is ready!”

  Spencer appeared from around the corner of their bedroom. He had her phone pressed to his ear and his eyes bored into hers.

  She frowned. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Alex shot out of his room and barreled past Rylie, knocking her off balance. “Mom, did you put my game in my backpack? I think it’s going to be the best show and tell in class!” he exclaimed, pulling himself up to the table and taking a bite of his toast.

  Rylie tore her gaze from Spencer and looked over at Alex. “It’s on the counter. I’ll put it in your backpack before we go,” she said, turning back to Spencer and crossing her arms. “Spence, what’s wrong?” she asked, the space between her eyebrows wrinkling.

  “It’s Norman. Del’s in the hospital,” he said, making his way down the hall and holding her phone out to her.

  Rylie grabbed the phone from him, her heart beating out of her chest. “Norm? What’s going on?” she asked, keeping her voice as even as possible.

  “Hello, Rylie, honey. Del had a stroke. She’s okay. They have her in ICU and she’s stable.” He sounded exhausted.

  Rylie exhaled before asking, “Do they know the cause?”

  Norm sighed on the other end of the phone and said, “She’s going to be angrier than a cat in water when she finds out I told you.” He paused. “She’s still smoking Rylie. It’s clogging her veins and arteries again.”

  Closing her eyes Rylie leaned against the wall for support and asked, “Are they doing surgery again?”

  “Most likely, yes.”

  “When? I’ll be there,” Rylie said, rubbing her temple.

  “I’m not sure honey. We’ve been up all night. They have her stabilized and she’s sleeping now. I don’t think they’ve had time to form whatever plan they’ll put in place for her yet.” Norm yawned, then added, “I didn’t want to add to your plate, but I thought you’d like to know.”

  “Of course, I do and you’re not adding to my plate. I’ll see what flights are available and get there as soon as I can, okay? Norm, I love you,” she said, staring down the dark hall as her vision blurred with tears.

  “I love you too, sweetie. I guess I’ll see you soon,” Norm said.

  “See you soon. Get some rest.”

  Norm chuckled and said, “I’ll try and do that.”

  Rylie hung up and turned to look at Spencer, who was staring at her with his hands stuffed into his sweatpants pockets. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Pressing her lips together she shook her head and said, “No. I have to go.”

  Spencer walked over and pulled her into his arms and said, “I know. I wouldn’t expect you not to.”

  Alex lowered his toast from his mouth frowning and asked, “Mom? What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

  Rylie let go of Spencer, walked over to the table and sat across from Alex. “Grandma Del is sick,” she said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “I need to go and help grandpa take care of a few things.”

  “Can I go? I want to go,” Alex asked, his eyes welling up with tears.

  Rylie’s face fell as she felt her heart moan with despair. She couldn’t take seeing Alex upset. Cupping his cheek in her hand she said, “Not this time, love. We’ll get her feeling better and then plan for them to come for a visit, okay?”

  Alex pulled away and said, “They always come here. Why can’t we go see them instead?”

  Rylie looked up at Spencer, who shrugged, then walked over and grabbed his coffee. She and Spencer had been married for sixteen years and she’d never taken him home. She preferred paying for Del and Norm to come to New York instead. Turning to face Alex, she smiled and said, “You have school, love. It’s easier if they come here.”

  “I don’t always have school. We never go to see them,” Alex said, slumping against the chair and puckering his lips together.

  “I know,” she said, sighing.

  “Please let me go with you,” Alex pleaded.

  “Not this time, buddy.”

  Alex crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.

  “Hey. When grandma is better and I get back home, we will talk about making a trip to see them, okay?” she said, leaning towards him.

  Unmoving, Alex looked at her from the corner of his eyes and asked, “We can really go visit?”

  Taking a deep breath, Rylie looked at Spencer who was watching their exchange. He raised his eyebrows at her to indicate he was waiting for her answer too. “We will talk about making a trip, yes,” she said, looking at Alex’s profile and sighing.

  Alex jumped up smiling and wrapped his arms around her neck. “Thanks Mom!” he roared and kissed her cheek before sitting back down.

  Rylie stood up and looked at Spencer with a tight smile. “Do you mind taking him to school so I can get my flight lined up and get packed?” she asked.

  Spencer nodded and said, “I can do that.” He set his coffee mug in the sink and walked over to the table. “Are you about ready, buddy?” he asked Alex, patting him on his back.

  Alex stuffed the last bite of toast into his mouth and nodded. “Yes. I just need to put my game in my backpack.” He pushed his chair back and ran to the counter to grab the chessboard.

  Rylie hugged herself as she watched him pack his backpack with his beloved game. “I better get moving,” she said, looking at Spencer before turning towards the hallway.

  “Hey Rye,” Spencer said to her retreating back.

  She stopped halfway down the hall to turn and look at him. “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  She smiled and said, “I love you too.”

  Spencer and Alex left a few minutes later and Rylie started looking for flights to Idaho. The earliest flight she could find was at ten-fifteen that evening. It had a two-and half-hour layover in Salt Lake City. She wouldn’t get into Boise until five in the morning. Due to the time change it made it a little over a nine-hour fight. She felt the muscles in her neck tighten as she wished she didn’t have to make the trip. She knew that even though he would never ask for it, Norm needed help and she couldn’t ignore the fact that Del was in the hospital. Rylie booked the tickets and closed her laptop with a heavy sigh. Getting up she walked over to the bookshelf that held some of their photos. Picking up a silver frame, she traced her fingers over the time worn faces in the photo and allowed her mind to float back to a time she rarely thought about.

  August 1982

  Rylie splashed through the creek water as she ran and dove for one of the crawdads that swam out from beneath a rock. She felt the tickle of its legs as it slipped through her fingers and disappeared into the muddy cloud she’d created when she jumped into the water.

  “Damn,” she said, grunting as she pushed her wet hair out of her face. Feeling a sharp pain on her knee, she lifted it out of the water to examine. There was a small trickle of blood blossoming like water colors as it mixed with the creek water and trailed down her knee. She must have landed on one of the rocks scattered around the rock palace where the crawdads lived beneath the bridge.

  She hoisted herself out of the water, glancing one more time towards the palace rocks and climbed out of the creek. Her knee throbbed as she made her way back up the steep bank using the vines that grew around the small forest floor to pull herself up. At the top of the bank she wrung the water out of the summer dress she was wearing, pulled on her shoes and trudged through the tiny forest that lined Big Willow Creek. It only took about five minutes to make it to the pasture on the other side of the trees. She ducked under the barbed wire fencing and walked through the pasture in the direction of home, her mood growing
darker with each squishy step. Her only pair of shoes were sopping wet and the white canvas was turning brown from the dirt she kicked up as she trudged through the trees.

  “Why don’t you ever think before you act, Rylie? You stupid shit!” she said, with a growl as she came closer to the pasture gate that led back to the road.

  “Well, now. I don’t think those are words that should ever come from a young lady’s mouth.”

  Rylie froze, her heart beating in her throat as she turned toward the voice that had just sounded behind her. A woman with silver streaked brown hair stood up from behind the fence wiping her hands on a garden apron. Rylie stared at her, unable to form any words. None of their neighbors had ever spoken to her before and being caught cussing wasn’t how she’d imagined being introduced.

  “Come now, you were speaking so eloquently just a second ago. Cat got your tongue?” The woman’s eyes bore into Rylie’s as she placed her hands on her hips.

  “I, uhm. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

  “Evidently,” the woman said, walking closer and leaning against the fence, still staring at her. Rylie felt uncomfortable as the woman’s eyes roamed from her tangled hair to her wet secondhand dress and down to her dirty canvas shoes. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” the woman asked, taking a pack of cigarettes from her apron pocket and tapping it against her palm.

  Rylie knew the look of pity in the woman’s eyes all too well and felt her cheeks grow warm. She looked down and dragged her feet in circles along the dirt. Quietly she said, “Rylie Skeet.”

  The woman nodded and said, “You’re Diane’s daughter, aren’t you? You live in the trailer up the road a way?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Ten.”

  “A little young to be using words like that, aren’t you? Does your momma know you talk like that?”

  Rylie’s cheeks grew hot as she peeked through her lashes at the woman and said, “My momma isn’t around much.”