Sunset Over Misty Lake

by Margaret Standafer

  Karen stopped wiping the counter and cocked her head. “Do you really still believe he’s trying to find that dog a home?”

  Joe sighed as he helped Dylan take off his shoes and then filled a water bottle for him. Dylan grabbed the water bottle then darted off to the living room where he plopped down next to his trains.

  “I don’t know. I’m convinced Mom doesn’t want a dog and I can’t quite believe Dad wants one so badly he’d put all this time and energy into trying to convince her. They’re enjoying the freedom that comes with retirement and without having a pet to worry about. Maybe there’s nothing more to it than just trying to help Doc Fisher.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe.” Karen had her doubts but shifted gears. “Everything under control at your mom and dad’s?”

  “Tables and chairs are in place, volleyball net is up, horseshoe court is ready, and Mom’s kitchen is overflowing with stuff people already dropped off. It’s as under control as it’s going to get.”

  “Good. And your mom and dad? How are they? I thought your mom seemed tired yesterday.”

  Joe frowned a little. “They both seem tired. I’m worried this party is getting to be too much for them, but they won’t admit it.”

  Karen nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. Is there anything more we can help with today?”

  “I don’t think so. A few neighbors were still there when I left and looking for things to help with, so if something comes up, there should be hands to take care of it.”

  “Okay. We’ll make sure we’re there early tomorrow morning to try to lessen the load. Maybe you could talk to your brothers and sister and see that they’re all there as early as possible. I’m sorry my parents can’t be there to help, but I’ll make sure Kelly and Wes are there early. Wes can man a grill and Kelly’s over all her morning sickness, so she can help with the food.” Karen reached for a pen and notepad and scribbled as she talked. “Who’s picking up Rose and Kate? Is that arranged? It’s supposed to be close to ninety-five tomorrow. Are there enough of those big water cooler jugs? What about ice?” She paused for a second. “What am I forgetting?”

  When Joe didn’t answer, Karen turned to look at him. His eyes were wide.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You haven’t slowed down in days, not since, well, not since we talked and heard from Cort. Are you okay? Are you trying to stay busy so you don’t have to think about what else you might hear from Cort?”

  Karen smiled at him. “I’m fine. And this time when I say I’m fine, I’m really fine. In fact, I’m great. Better than I’ve been in so long, and that gives me energy. I’m not trying to avoid anything, but it’s true that I’m not thinking about it. None of that has any hold over me any longer. I can’t tell you how wonderful that feels.”

  “I’m just a little worried that you’re moving past it too quickly. You know Cort gets home tonight and will be at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow. I’d like to talk to him tomorrow, the both of us, if you’re okay with that?”

  Karen paused and pulled her lip between her teeth while she thought. “I’m okay with it. If I never heard another word about it, I’d be okay with that too, but we can talk to him. We should talk to him,” she corrected herself. “He spent time and, I’m sure, money getting answers. He didn’t have to do any of it. Yes, I’ll talk to him.”

  Joe nodded but there was still concern in his eyes. Karen hugged him tight, then kissed him before moving back to the sink.

  “Anyway,” she said, “is there anything more we can do to help your parents?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  Before Karen could answer, Dylan shouted from the living room. “Mommy! Babies!” a fraction of a second before the monitor crackled with whimpers from the twins’ room.

  “I forget. Why do we have a monitor?”

  Karen chuckled. “Once in a while Dylan isn’t here.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Joe winked at her. “I’ll go get them.”

  The bars were cut, the salad mixed and covered, the beans taste-tested and approved by Joe, fruit washed, cut, and plated, and all the food and family members packed in the van by nine o’clock the next morning. Karen gave everything and everyone a last once-over as Joe backed the van out of the driveway then nodded her approval. She was rested and raring to go, but the hot air that blew in her face as they started down the street had her wilting. She wiped her arm across her brow and closed the windows in favor of the air conditioning.

  “I can’t believe how hot it is already. Those pop-up canopies are going to be life savers today. There aren’t enough trees to combat this heat.”

  “You know, when we were kids, we tried for years to convince mom and dad that we needed a pool in our yard. They told us it was a ridiculous idea when we had a perfectly good lake a few miles away. The party would look a lot different if we’d won that battle all those years ago.”

  “Oh, my, can you imagine? All those people trying to get in the pool? Yes, the party would look a lot different.”

  Karen paused, an idea exploding in her mind. Details, some as clear as day, some a little foggier, but so many details falling into place in a matter of seconds. She opened her mouth, let out a little squeak, then closed it again. No, this would have to wait. This idea needed tweaking and then the right moment before it saw daylight.

  “What is it?” Joe asked.

  “Oh, nothing. Just thinking. You checked on the water coolers and ice, right?”

  “I did. All is in order.”

  “Then all that’s left to do is have a party.” She twisted in her seat. “Are you ready for a party, Dylan?”

  Dylan threw his arms in the air. “Party! Peppy!”

  It was quite the party. The food was plentiful, as were the guests. Friendships were renewed when those who hadn’t attended in years returned for the holiday weekend and made a surprise appearance. Long-time acquaintances rehashed old stories, slapping their knees and hooting as if they’d never heard the tales before. Old and young laughed and hugged, joked and teased, played and reveled. The sweltering heat took its toll with a few toddler tempers flaring and with several seniors choosing the McCabe living room Anna had opened to guests over the backyard, but as Joe surveyed the scene, he saw success.

  The canopies were a welcome addition with most spending at least some of their day out of the relentless sun. With nothing but the wispiest fingers of white crawling over the cerulean sky, the shade the canopies and the towering oak at the back of the lot provided was much sought after.

  The exceptions to the rule were the teens. Most had been Joe’s students, and at the moment, most were crowded on the volleyball court. The boys, Joe noticed, had either sweated through their t-shirts or had opted to remove them and hang them around their necks or tie them around their foreheads like sweatbands. Their exposed biceps, it seemed, required flexing. It hadn’t been that many years that Joe didn’t remember what it had been like showing off for the girls during a Fourth of July party.

  Every girl Joe spotted had her hair piled high on her head. Since just the thought of long hair on the back of his neck made him sweat, the move made sense. It was one he’d seen Karen as well as his sister and sisters-in-law replicate dozens of times over. Sandals were kicked to the side of the court, mixed in a pile with water bottles and sunscreen tubes.

  Sweat beaded on foreheads and shoulders but smiles and good-natured ribbing ruled the day. Joe watched as the ball whizzed from one side to the other in a rapid-fire series of sets and spikes. An impossibly long set of arms skyed over the net to block a vicious spike and sent the spiker reeling backward. Riotous cheers rose from the winning side.

  With a last smile at the group, Joe turned, ready to search out another drink for himself. He turned back when he heard his name.

  “Hey, Mr. McCabe! We’re short a player.”

  Joe easily picked out Casey Beherns’ voice as the one shouting the invitation. Casey was a head taller and a foot wider than most everyone clustere
d around the net. His deep baritone rang as clearly across the yard as it did from the stage to the farthest seat in the Misty Lake High School auditorium. While Casey played on the football and basketball teams, and played well, it was clear to everyone who knew him that his heart belonged to the school choirs and the twice-yearly musical productions of which he was a vital part. That didn’t mean he wasn’t competitive when it suited him. Right now, as he pointed to the opposite side of the net, the glint in his eye told Joe it was one of those competitive times.

  Joe took his time crossing the yard to the court, racking his brain with every step in an effort to recall what grade he’d given Casey in chemistry. Had Casey been teetering between two grades and Joe’d wound up going with the lower one? He didn’t think so. Casey was a solid B student and Joe was almost certain his final grade had ended up a B. Still, facing someone affectionately known as “Mountain Man,” whether he was looking to exact revenge for a grade or not, seemed daunting.

  “Up for the challenge, Mr. McCabe?” Casey asked when Joe reached the court.

  Joe raised an eyebrow and surveyed the group. Besides Casey, a few other boys had at least an inch or two on him. Two of the girls were starters on the varsity volleyball team. He’d seen them play. They’d wipe the court with him. With one hand. But, Joe told himself, he wasn’t exactly out of shape. He ran and lifted weights. More like he ran to the kids’ rooms and lifted them. He joined in pickup basketball games at the gym. When he went to the gym.

  He was doomed.

  “Sure. You’ll take it easy on me, right?”

  “What’s the fun in that?” Casey asked, that glint growing ever brighter.

  “The fun is I’ll live to see another day,” Joe answered.

  Casey threw his head back and laughed his booming laugh, then pointed to the opposite side of the court.

  Joe held his own. For a while. He blocked a couple of spikes, his pride the only thing keeping him from rubbing his forearms against the burning sting. He scored a point on a lucky tip when the opposing player slipped before reaching the ball. Serving was more miss than hit with one serve sailing at least ten feet past the back line and another smacking the dead center of the net. All in all, he was satisfied he wasn’t making too big a fool out of himself. Then Lakeisha served.

  Joe’s team was up by two when the recently graduated, two-time captain of the volleyball team palmed the ball and stepped back to serve. She locked eyes with Joe and tried—remarkably unsuccessfully—to hide her grin. With laser-like precision and a speed that defied logic, the ball came straight at him. Joe had only a fraction of a second to plant his feet and stretch out his arms readying himself for a bump. The result was far from a bump. The ball skimmed across his arms like a bullet and careened out of bounds. This time Joe couldn’t keep himself from examining his forearms, certain he’d find skid marks.

  “What just happened?” he asked Tawny, the girl next to him.

  “Lakeisha just happened,” she answered with a shrug. “How do you think we made it to state?”

  Joe took a deep breath that filled his cheeks then slowly blew it out. He lifted his t-shirt to swipe it across his sweaty brow. Squinting across the court, he found Lakeisha no longer bothering to try to hide her grin. There was no doubt in his mind where her next serve was headed.

  Joe fared no better with her second serve. The ball streaked across his arms and, like the first, flew madly out of bounds. He managed to make better contact with the third, but rather than sending the ball high into the air as was his intention, he sent it directly into Keegan Kelly’s back.

  Keegan turned and studied Joe with raised eyebrows.

  “Sorry, Keegan.”

  “No problem. She’s tough.”

  “That she is.”

  Tawny inched closer and whispered to Joe, “This time, just move out of the way.”

  “Huh?” Joe asked, but before he got an answer, Lakeisha sent another ball whizzing over the net.

  Like a flash of lightning, Tawny darted in front of him and got an outstretched arm on the ball. Unlike Joe, she somehow sent it nearly straight up giving Landon ample time to set it to the front row where Josiah spiked it over the net to land at Jayron’s feet.

  Joe cheered along with the rest of his team, but secretly wished the game would just end. It did, a minute later when the other team won back the serve and Casey put all his might into his serve. Joe was all but certain he’d find a volleyball-shaped divot in the yard where the ball pounded the back line.

  Wilting from the heat and from exerting far more effort than he’d ever admit, Joe dragged himself to the net for handshakes and a combination of teasing and congratulating. Joe looked around him. Sure, the kids were sweating and chugging water, but they all seemed ready to get back at it. Before they could suggest he join them, he made his exit citing party responsibilities.

  Karen held out a bottle of water as he approached her.

  “A for effort, Mr. McCabe.”

  “Wow, I feel old.”

  “I think you held your own.”

  “Hah!”

  “Well, except when Lakeisha served. That was brutal.”

  “I’d tell you my feelings were hurt but you’re right. Brutal is putting it mildly.”

  “I’d still want you on my team any day,” Karen said as she leaned toward him and bumped him, shoulder to shoulder.

  “Thanks, baby.” Joe looked around the yard. “Where are the kids? Last I saw, Shauna had Dylan and the twins were under the watchful eye of Trina.”

  “Sleeping. All three of them. Dylan was exhausted and even though he thought he shouldn’t nap, was asleep in a matter of minutes. Trina worked some sort of magic to get the twins to sleep despite all the chaos. She’s a wonder, that woman,” Karen said with a shake of her head. “But Rose and Kate just joined the group in the living room, so the volume has gone up considerably. They may not be asleep much longer.”

  Joe looked around again. “Is Mom inside, or do I need to go monitor the situation? If they start playing bartender…”

  “Your mom’s inside. The situation is under control.”

  “Then we can actually sit for a minute?”

  “I think we can.”

  They moved to chairs situated in the tiny sliver of shade alongside the house and dropped into them. Joe chugged more of his water while Karen leaned her head back and stretched out her legs.

  “It feels good to sit,” Karen said on a sigh.

  “You haven’t done much of that for days.”

  “I haven’t, no, but I think it felt even better to keep moving, to want to keep moving, than it does now to sit. I hadn’t wanted to do much of that for a long time.”

  “I know. I like having my wife back.”

  Karen scooted up in her chair. “Joe, I’m sorry for all the times—”

  “Nope,” Joe interrupted, “no apologies. It’s all in the past and that’s where it’s staying.”

  “Except for this evening. Cort said you asked him if he’d stick around after fireworks so we can talk.”

  “Yes. You’re still okay with that?”

  “I’m still okay with that.”

  Before Joe could say anything more, Riley waved and called him over to the line of grills.

  “Duty calls.” Joe stood but kept a hand on Karen’s shoulder as he did so. “Stay put a little longer. You deserve a break.”

  Karen smiled at him, but as he walked away, Joe realized she never agreed to that break.

  Karen was up and out of her chair before Joe reached the grills. She could take a break the next day. Or the next. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Joe doing felt better than not doing. For nearly a year, every step, every action, had been a chore. The lightness that now filled her had her feeling as though no job was too big.

  She repeated that mantra to herself as she pulled the patio door closed behind her and followed a chorus of ‘amens’ from what sounded like a gospel choir, to the living room.

  K
aren had known Joe’s great aunts most of her life and after so many years, it wasn’t often they were able to shock her. It took only one glance at the scene in front of her, though, for shock to set in.

  “A-a-men, a-a-men, a-a-men, a-men, a-men,” Rose sang at the top of her lungs, swaying from side to side, one arm around Kate and one above her head twirling what Karen, with every fiber of her being, wanted to believe was not the woman’s purple bra.

  Kate, who normally left the singing to Rose, appeared thrilled to accompany her sister. Kate’s free hand waved above her head in unison with Rose’s and this time Karen couldn’t even pretend what she saw twisted between Kate’s fingers was anything but a slip.

  Karen’s wide eyes darted to Kate’s legs. She breathed a small sigh of relief when she spotted Kate’s red, white, and blue skirt still in place.

  “When it’s hotter than heck outside,” Rose sang while Kate backed her up with more amens. “A girl’s gotta do what she can…take off another thing…then sing as we start again. A-a-men…”

  “Rose! Kate! Oh, my God!”

  Shauna stood frozen on the threshold of the living room, her eyes like saucers and color flying up her neck to her cheeks. She looked ready to explode.

  “What are you doing? Stop it! Stop it!” Shauna shrieked.

  Rose, Kate, and their group of friends, some of whom seemed as horrified as Shauna by the scene unfolding in front of them, but some who were happy to join in, appeared to not hear a word Shauna said. Karen made her way through the chaos to Shauna’s side.

  “Well, this is new,” Karen said.

  Shauna raked both hands viciously through her hair, then kept them on top of her head, clenching her hair and holding it away from her face.

  “I only left them unattended for a couple of minutes. I thought I heard Dylan so went to check on him. They were talking, just talking, when I left.”