Under the Willows

by Pamela McCord

  But Rob stood there, jeans sitting low on his lean hips, a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a faded flag on the front and “U.S.A.” down one arm. The shirt fit just snugly enough to showcase his biceps and strong shoulders. His stomach was flat and I envisioned a muscular six-pack. He glanced at me to catch me watching him. I turned away, caught, and silently cursed myself. I’m not interested in Rob.

  I didn’t even know if he was interested in me. He’d been polite and friendly, but that didn’t mean he was looking for a relationship or anything. I’m a customer. He has to be friendly.

  “I think Rob likes you,” Jen said later as we stood side by side in the kitchen slicing onions, tomatoes and lettuce for the burgers.

  “Oh, no. I doubt it. Besides, I’m not ready to date yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

  Then I felt the words spill out, but I couldn’t stop them. “Besides, surely he has a girlfriend or something?” I wanted to kick myself. I splashed more chardonnay into my glass and quickly took a couple of sips.

  “He doesn’t. Not because women aren’t interested. Believe me, he’s definitely an eligible bachelor. A gorgeous eligible bachelor. He’s just not looking. You’re the first person I’ve seen catch his eye in a really long time. So, if you should decide . . . .” She let her voice drop off.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Tom’s only been gone a few months. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Please. It wouldn’t be right for you to lock yourself up in an ivory tower and pine away for your lost love.” She recoiled at my stunned look. “I’m sorry, Kelly. That came out more blunt than I intended. I get it that you’re still grieving. You’re the only one who’ll know when you’re ready. It’s just . . . Rob’s a nice guy. A great guy. Just a little info to tuck away for future reference.”

  She picked up a tray with buns and another with the sliced tomatoes, onions and lettuce leaves, while I grabbed the condiments and we carried them out to the redwood table, setting them on the end closest to the barbeque. I glanced up to find Rob looking at me. He smiled when he caught my eye. I smiled back. I’m so confused. And the wine isn’t helping.

  I leaned toward Jen. “Have you told him about me? About . . . what happened?”

  “No. I didn’t know you two knew each other. Besides, it would be against the Girl Code to share your personal information.”

  “Oh. Okay, thanks.”

  Jen, Georgie and I were urged to start the food line. I moseyed up to the cook and held my plate out for him to lay a burger on the bun I’d dressed up the way I like it and thanked him before sliding onto the redwood bench at the far end. I was busy squirting an obscene amount of ketchup on my plate (I need it to be on every bite of my burger) and didn’t notice when Rob sat next to me. I probably blushed, but managed to sheepishly offer him the bottle of ketchup.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Despite appearances, I really didn’t use all of it.”

  His face lit up with a big grin. “No problem. Personally, I like to be able to taste the meat, but that’s probably just me.”

  I concentrated on my burger, trying not to be aware of Rob sitting next to me. It kind of worked for a while, until he offered to refill my wine glass, which, of course, opened the door to actual conversation.

  He was easy to talk to, and I found I was enjoying myself. When the food had been whittled down, Jen and Jason began the clean-up process. Georgie and I offered to help, but Jen waved us off and disappeared into the kitchen. Georgie found a seat on Randy’s lap and the two of them got a little involved with each other. When Rob suggested adjourning to the deck chairs, I agreed, relieved that maybe I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the PDA. I moved so quickly I almost turned my chair over when I got up. Rob grabbed the back of the chair to steady it and flashed an understanding grin.

  He carried our drinks and led the way.

  “Have you always lived here?” I asked.

  “Born and bred. I was born at Marysville General. My parents lived their whole lives here.”

  “Are they still in Marysville?”

  “No. Unfortunately, I lost them both in the last few years.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve had time to deal with it.” When he glanced at me, I thought I caught a momentary twinge of grief around the edges of his gaze, but it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

  “Do you have any brothers and sisters?” I asked.

  “No. I was an only child.” He smiled wryly, looking at his hands.

  “Me, too,” I said. “About being an only child, I mean. I still have my parents. Other than TJ, they’re about the only family I have left, although there’s an aunt in Connecticut.”

  “What made you decide to move to Marysville?” he asked after arranging our chairs next to each other.

  I glanced away, not answering immediately. When I turned back, he was watching me, a concerned look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to pry.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. I took a deep breath. “My husband inherited the house from his grandmother.”

  “Your husband?”

  “Yes. His name is . . . was . . . Tom. He died a few months ago.”

  He sat back abruptly, obviously not expecting my answer. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t know.”

  “I know. How could you? He was killed by a drunk driver. And that was the end of our family. Not really, but it felt like it.” I shouldn’t have told him all this, but he was so easy to talk to. He felt safe. I glanced down at my hands that were wrapped around the bowl of my wine glass and shrugged. “Tom inherited the house when his grandmother, Kate, passed away. Maybe you knew her?”

  He cleared his throat. “Oh, sure, everyone did. Are you doing okay out there by yourself?”

  “I’m not really by myself. I have a son, TJ. He’s eight.”

  “I’m glad you’re not alone. Are the two of you settled in?”

  “Pretty much. There are a few boxes left that I haven’t done anything with. Kate left us the furnishings and all the kitchen stuff, so there wasn’t a lot we brought with us, mostly clothes and personal things. It’s a lovely house and we’re really lucky to have it.” I took a sip of my wine. “It was hard being in our old home. It was just an apartment we rented in New York, but there were memories. Lots of memories. In a way, it was good that we had somewhere else to go, as it was sad there, at home.” I looked down as the unexpected emotions washed over me.

  It must have showed on my face because he put his hand over mine. For a moment, I welcomed his touch but, when I looked into his eyes and saw the compassion there, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I pulled my hand away.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “No, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not ready for . . . anything. Not that you meant anything by it.” I stood. “I should go. I need to relieve the babysitter. It was nice talking with you,” I said abruptly as I walked away. At the doorway, I glanced back to find him watching me, looking confused. I gave a small wave and disappeared inside to say my goodbyes.

  Guilt roiled my stomach, almost causing me to hunch over in physical pain. I’m sorry, Tom. I love you. Only you.

  I set my still-almost-full glass of wine on the counter and made my apologies to Jen. She protested, but gave up when she realized my mind was made up, and hugged me before I stepped out the door.

  Sitting in my car, the dam holding my emotions in gave way and hot tears poured down my cheeks. I surrendered to the waves of guilt and grief for a few minutes, then squared my shoulders. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was confused that I felt drawn to Rob. I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. But a little voice in my head asked why not?

  Chapter 11

  O

  T

  urbulent emotions kept me awake. At two thirty, I gave up trying to sleep and padded downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. I sat in the dark kitchen, moonlight stream
ing in the window over the sink my only companion. I sipped and contemplated. Eventually the warm comfort of the tea calmed my shaky nerves and I headed back upstairs. I poked my head in TJ’s door, tiptoed in and sat at the foot of his bed watching him sleep.

  A chill came out of nowhere. I glanced at his window, but it was closed and locked. I bent over him and pulled the covers up around his shoulders. That’s when I heard sobs that seemed to echo around the room. I whirled my head around but no one was there. I started for the door, but it slammed shut as I approached. A small cry escaped me and my hand flew to my mouth. My hair lifted around my face as if a wind swirled through the room, and I froze. And, then, something impossible to believe happened. Alexa said Help us and a child’s eerie crying filled the room.

  “What the hell?” I turned the doorknob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open.

  “Mom?” TJ sat up in bed. I could see his wide, startled eyes in the light from his nightlight, and rushed to his side.

  “We have to get out of here,” I whispered, a tinge of urgency coloring my voice as I helped him out of bed.

  Please, the disembodied voice said. Help us.

  The door banged open. Grabbing TJ’s hand, I pulled him out of the room. We flew down the stairs and huddled in the living room.

  “Mom?” TJ was scared and confused. He’d slept through most of the strange events, but he could see that I was frightened, and that frightened him.

  I was breathing hard and had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked fearfully when I still hadn’t spoken.

  “It’s okay, TJ.” I finally managed to speak with a voice that wasn’t quivering. I hugged him, not sure whether it was to comfort him or me, and said, “Everything’s okay. We’re going to go out for a while.” We could find a hotel for the night and figure everything out in the morning. If only I didn’t have to go back upstairs. Where my clothes and my car keys were. But I was the adult and had to protect my son, although the choice between taking him back upstairs with me and leaving him alone in the front room stumped me for a moment.

  In the end, I decided he would be safer with me, so I held his hand and led him back upstairs. I couldn’t help glancing toward his empty room as we passed it, but hurried on to my own room. I quickly changed into my jeans and a T-shirt and grabbed a hoodie, a duffel bag and my purse. I tossed my toothbrush and a spare for TJ into the duffel, along with a few other things I thought we’d need in the morning. There were clean clothes for TJ in the laundry room, sparing me the scary thought of going back into his room.

  “Was it Alexa?” he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes as we climbed into my car.

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I’m not sure. We’ll find a nice hotel so Alexa or whoever it was won’t bother us.”

  —

  A bell over the motel door tinkled as we entered. The desk clerk stepped up to greet us, trying to look pleasant in spite of his bleary eyes and disheveled appearance. He was probably dozing in the hopes that no guests would be arriving after midnight.

  I apologized for the late hour and handed him my credit card. TJ stood next to me and I draped an arm over his shoulders, pulling him next to me in a semihug. Silently, I signed the credit card slip and accepted the key to a first-floor room. The desk clerk automatically asked if I needed help with my luggage, and I automatically said no as I indicated the duffel bag at my feet.

  TJ was fading fast. I couldn’t blame him after being dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night like that. I guided him down the hallway to a room next to the elevators.

  Dropping the duffel bag on the round table just inside the door, I closed my eyes and thought about how I could explain what had happened to TJ. When I turned around, though, he was already curled into a ball on one of the queen beds, the covers pulled up almost over his head. He looked so small and innocent. In the morning, I had no doubt he would have questions.

  Chapter 12

  O

  W

  hen the sun came up, I rubbed my eyes and stretched, then remembered where we were. I dropped an arm over my eyes and listened for TJ, but all was quiet on his side of the room.

  What was I going to tell him? How was I going to explain it when I didn’t understand it myself? I took a deep breath and shoved up into a sitting position. We’d work it out.

  By the time I was out of the shower and dressed in my jeans and T-shirt, the sound of cartoons emanating from the room’s TV signaled that TJ was up. I ruffled my damp hair with the towel and sat down on my bed. “Hey, buddy. You hungry?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Go brush your teeth and get dressed, then we’ll go to Molly’s. Sound good?”

  He nodded on his way to the bathroom. I finished towel-drying my hair and used my wide-toothed comb to tame the tangles.

  I’d already stuffed our few items in the duffel bag, then added TJ’s pajamas to the bag when he brought them out.

  We dropped the room key off at the front desk on the way to the car.

  Shortly, we were seated in a booth at Molly’s Pie House. The bench seats were shiny red vinyl, and chrome poles held up the Formica tabletop. When I was a kid, we’d search the swirling patterns in the Formica for monkey shapes. Through the years, we’d found those same shapes in Formica tabletops in our friends’ homes. The monkey shape right in front of me triggered the memory, and I absently traced it with my finger as a cup of coffee was placed in front of me.

  “I have one, too, Mom.” TJ pointed out his own monkey shape.

  “What are you looking at?” Anita, our server, asked.

  “They’re monkeys. See?” TJ said with a smile.

  “I never noticed those before,” Anita said. “How cool is that?”

  “It’s fun to find them,” he said.

  Anita took our order and swept away from our table, her pink cotton uniform skirt brushing against the monkey table as she turned.

  “So.” I looked at TJ, wondering how to start the conversation. He watched me expectantly.

  “I know last night was probably scary,” I began.

  “Huh?” The confused look on his face confused me.

  “You know, when we had to leave and go to the motel?”

  “Oh, that. That wasn’t scary.”

  Apparently, he had missed or forgotten the whole Alexa thing. Or he was getting used to it. I supposed it was best to leave it that way. “I guess not,” I said. Was I wrong? Had anything even happened? In the light of day, the things that frightened me last night seemed impossible. I guess I should be glad that TJ wasn’t traumatized.

  A breezy “Hi, Kelly” caused me to look up to find Jen and Jason smiling down at me.

  “Hey, you guys,” I smiled back.

  “We just came from church and are going to have breakfast then hang out in the square. Want to join us?”

  I wasn’t dressed for socializing, but it would be good to take my mind off whatever had happened last night. “We’ll go change after we finish and meet you there,” I said.

  “Great,” Jen said and waved as she and her fiancé headed for a table on the other side of the room.

  “Does that sound like fun to you?” I asked TJ, who nodded vigorously, a big grin on his face.

  “Then, eat up. We have to go home and change.”

  —

  With trepidation, I pushed open the front door and stood listening. No sound. The house felt normal. How could it? Something strange had happened here last night. TJ pushed in past me and flopped on the couch. I looked at him and then at the staircase, and decided he should stay downstairs. I turned the TV on and said I was going to go change.

  I walked as quietly as I could up the stairs and stopped outside TJ’s door. With a deep breath, I stepped inside. Nothing was out of place and the Dot stood silently on the dresser. “Is anyone here?” I asked hesitantly.

  Nothing.

  No breeze lif
ted my hair, no cold temperature, no sobbing. I rubbed my arms to calm my nerves, then picked out a folded T-shirt for TJ, watching Alexa the whole time I was going through his clothes until I closed the dresser drawer.

  With relief, I shut the door behind me and crossed to my own room. By then, I was starting to doubt my recollection of last night. Could I have imagined it? I didn’t think so, but . . . well, I didn’t suppose I could rule that out.

  —

  Jen and Jason were sitting on a blanket close to the bandstand and we headed toward them. TJ spotted Mike and Kevin and asked if he could go play with them. I made him say hi to Jen and Jason first, and watched after him as he ran off in the direction of his friends.

  “Are you okay?” Jen asked, startling me back to the present. “You seem a little . . . off . . . this morning.”

  I glanced at Jason and back to Jen. “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “Does it have anything to do with last night?” she said. “You left early and—”

  I felt myself flush. “No, your party was great. I just thought I needed to go so the babysitter could get home.”

  Jen looked skeptical, but didn’t say anything.

  “I have a lot on my mind,” I said. “We can talk about it later.”

  “No problem. Do you want a water?” She pulled a bottle out of her cooler and tossed it to me.

  “Thanks. Listen, I’m sorry about last night. Tell me what happened after I left.”

  “Not a lot. Rob left shortly after you did, and Jason and Randy and Georgie and I sat around drinking and eating. You missed dessert by the way.”

  “What did I miss?”

  “I made a cherry pie. It was amazing if I do say so myself.”

  “I can vouch for that,” Jason said, slipping an arm around Jen’s shoulders.