Down by the River

by Robyn Carr

  “He’s home early again,” Nancy said.

  “You must need his help,” June ventured.

  “Not as much as we need his paycheck.”

  June thought for a moment about the cozy little house that awaited her and wondered what it might be like to be Chris, or worse still, to be Nancy, locked in this bedlam, working like a farmhand to take care of these kids. No wonder they sniped at each other.

  When Chris came back into the living room—the hospital room—wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, Nancy finished with Brent’s exercises and rolled him onto his side so she could rub his back. He was worn out from the pain and lay listless under her probing hands. Chris paused by his bed and ruffled his hair. He moved to put an arm around Nancy and she sidled away slightly to avoid him.

  “Okay,” Chris said. “I deserve that. I’m sorry, everyone.”

  No one said anything for a long, uncomfortable moment.

  “Well,” June said briskly. “I’ve got to get going. Nancy, I promise not to be so long in getting back here.”

  “Thanks, June. It was good seeing you.” Though her words were polite, she sounded very tired, near tears.

  “You, too. Hang in there.”

  “Let me walk you out, June,” Chris said.

  “Don’t worry about it, you’re busy,” she said, but he opened the door and saw her to her car, anyway.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that, June,” he said. “Sometimes Nancy and I just get on each other’s nerves from the pressure and everything.”

  “Perfectly understandable. But, Chris, when I told Nancy she should have put out an alarm that she needed help, she told me not to be naive. What does she mean?”

  “You know,” he said with a shrug. When she answered with only a nonplussed expression, he elaborated. “We have so many amends to make around here. Not just for the trouble the boys caused right up to the accident, though I suppose people are going to be a long time in letting that go, but also Nancy and me. I mean, we ran off and ditched our town. We hardly ever came back, as if we thought we were too good. Plus, we hurt you, the town’s favorite daughter.” He took a breath. “People aren’t going to be real anxious to help us out right now. We’re strangers to them. And it’s our own fault.”

  She was stunned speechless. “Chris, that isn’t true! I don’t think anyone realizes just how tough a time you’re having!”

  He smiled and gave her cheek a pat. “Nancy’s right. You’re naive.”

  “But…I…”

  “I’m going to see if I can get that kitchen sink attached, redeem myself a little. See you around, kiddo.” And he disappeared back into the house.

  As she drove up to her own house, she saw that the porch light was on, as well as the light in the garage, a free-standing, one-car building. Curiosity drove her to check it out. She pulled open the double doors and found Jim measuring a length of wood balanced on two saw-horses.

  “Oh, my,” she said, her face lighting up. “You have a tool belt! You look like one of the Village People!”

  He frowned slightly. “Was that a compliment?”

  “It sure was. What are you doing?”

  “You have a whole section of porch rail that’s rickety. I don’t want you to lean on it and fall through.”

  “You’re a carpenter?”

  “Naw. Mostly I’m a repairer.”

  “I’ve been wondering… We haven’t had a second to talk about this, but what do you plan to do now? Really retire? Get a job? Take up fishing with Sam or poker with my dad?”

  “Haven’t decided,” he said with a shrug. “Until I do, I thought I’d tinker. Unless there’s something—”

  “Oh, I couldn’t!” she said, putting her arms around his neck. “You’ve already done so many sweet things for me. Errands, cooking, cleaning, taking care of Sadie…” Then she had an idea and the effect of it lit up her eyes. “But, if you find you’re bored, I think I know where you might ply some of your talents.”

  Seven

  Jim wasn’t real sure that it was his place to organize what amounted to a barn raising, but he was sure that he’d carry any burden June asked of him to the ends of the earth.

  When Jim thought about how he might spend his retirement, it had never looked like this. He had seen himself on a sailboat or tropical island, basking in the sun. Or up to his thighs in a mountain stream, fly-fishing. Then there was that mountain-cabin fantasy, hunting his own food. It had never been a little house in a small town filled with eccentric people who minded everyone’s business but their own.

  But he loved it. It would have been enough that he loved June; he could have made anything work for her. Yet he hadn’t met a resident of the town he didn’t like, and he was completely astonished at how willing they’d been to accept him. A lot of that was love for June, but he knew very well that if they hadn’t liked him, if they hadn’t thought he was good to her or good for her, they’d be giving him a lot of trouble. They’d try to run him off. They were a friendly group, a trusting group, a willful group.

  He went first to Elmer to talk about June’s idea. He found the older man at the café having a late breakfast, so he sat up at the counter beside him and ordered coffee. June was already at the clinic seeing patients and it appeared most of the early morning regulars had gone. They passed a little chitchat on the weather, which was dismal, before Jim got around to the subject at hand.

  “June has asked if I would go to the Forrest house and see how I can help with their renovations. Even though I’m not the best hand in carpentry.”

  “Well, isn’t that a kick in the butt,” Elmer said, startling a grin out of Jim. “That’s her old boyfriend, you know.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Over and over and over, he thought.

  “Never was good enough for her, not even when he played quarterback in high school.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Now I guess he’s got himself in a real mess,” Elmer said.

  “That’s how June described it. A fixer-upper that hasn’t had much fixing up done to it. And they’re at the end of their respective ropes because of the twins.”

  “A mess of their own making, I might add,” Elmer couldn’t resist saying.

  “She didn’t elaborate on that,” Jim said. “But she did say there’s no hope of them having a livable house by Christmas. And they’re at each other’s throats.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Elmer asked.

  “I told her I’d offer some help out there. I wondered if you wanted to come along.”

  Elmer made a face. “Damn it all,” he cursed. “I’m close with Birdie and Judge, and I don’t wish that aimless kid of theirs any harm, but I’ve always regarded Chris Forrest as a no-account pain in the ass.”

  This brought Jim more pleasure than he could possibly have imagined, even though at no time had Elmer mentioned caring any more than that for him. And what they never talked about, when or even whether Jim and June would marry and legitimize his first and perhaps only grandchild, hung heavily between them. Rather than push June about that matter, he strove only to please her. And if working on her old boyfriend’s house pleased her…

  “How’d she talk you into it?” Elmer asked.

  “She didn’t have to talk me into it.”

  “Oh, brother.”

  Jim sighed. He didn’t wish to look less than manly in the eyes of the man he hoped would soon be his father-in-law. “She caught me making some repairs to her porch rail and got the idea I’m a carpenter, though not much of one. I don’t have a lot of daily appointments. And I find that, after a twenty-year career of working long hours, it doesn’t suit me to sit around the house and wait for the doctor mommy to show up.”

  Elmer’s fact lit up. “Well, there you go! I was afraid you were some kind of pantywaist.” He lowered his voice and leaned close. “But June thinks…?”

  “That I’m doing this because I adore her.”

  He slapped his knee and laughed lou
dly. When he stopped, he frowned slightly. “You sure you’ve never been married?”

  “Positive.”

  “Hmm. You’ve got it figured out pretty good for a novice. You know, there’s something else on my mind.”

  Oh-oh, Jim thought.

  “June’s no kid. She’s got good judgment and all, and I know she’s been wanting a family for a long time, even if she did seem to be short a husband. So whatever she wants is no business of mine, as long as she’s healthy and happy.” He lifted a gray brow and peered at Jim over his glasses. “Although she still appears to be short a husband.”

  Jim, who had fearlessly stared down the barrels of criminals’ guns, felt his neck grow slightly damp as he faced this little, bald-headed old man. “Have you talked to June about this?”

  “She doesn’t like when I meddle,” Elmer said.

  “Has it ever stopped you before?” Jim asked boldly, needing to know.

  “That’s impertinent. You do want me to like you, don’t you?”

  Now, this was a spot his sister Annie had put him in, wanting to know why they hadn’t set a wedding date. The real buried question was, Who’s standing in the way of you setting a wedding date? There was no winning in any answer. If he said he was reluctant, he looked like a cad. If he said June was, he was worse than a cad for selling her out. If he said both of them, well, wouldn’t everyone want to know what the problem was? Which harkened back to questions one and two.

  So all he said to Elmer was “More than you can possibly imagine.”

  “That so? Well, I just wanted you to know that I was troubled by that detail.”

  In the worst possible way he wanted to say “Me, too!” But he knew better. So instead he said, “I hate seeing you troubled.” Jim had been interrogated by armed criminals while working undercover and felt more confident than he did now.

  A slow smile spread on Elmer’s face. “Well, what are we going to do about that?”

  Jim thought a moment. “I think we should find Sam Cussler and maybe Harry Shipton, drive out to the Forrest house and see how bad it is. Then we’ll have time to go over to Westport or even Fort Bragg to get what we need.”

  “Harry? I don’t know that Harry can even pound a nail.”

  “Maybe he can pray for the rest of us, then.”

  Elmer shifted off the bar stool and got to his feet. He pulled a few bills out of his pocket and slapped them on the counter. “All right, let’s go have a look. Sheesh, you’re a slippery devil.”

  Lunchtime at the clinic brought a lull in the action. John had gone over to Valley Hospital on his rounds and Jessie was using her lunch hour to study at her desk, so Susan had gotten some hot tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches from the café for herself and June. They were having a picnic on June’s desk.

  “It’s been pretty nonstop around here the past couple of weeks,” Susan said.

  “Hmm,” June agreed, sipping soup from her spoon. Not just nonstop in the clinic, but in her life, racing from work to Jim to work to emergency calls to Jim to family commitments. No matter what she was doing, she was always late. Always. She had even missed a couple of dinners entirely. And where did the time go? Jim had been here since the first week in October and it was already November!

  “George sure knows how to mix up a good bowl of soup,” Susan said.

  “Hmm,” June answered, nodding. And in weather like this—the constant drizzle of early winter—soup and a blazing hearth really appealed. It was hard to leave that warm bed in the dark of early morning, especially now that there was a warm body beside her. And torture to drive to work through the chill mist and fog when it would be hours yet before sunrise. And even then, sunrise didn’t bring much light or warmth. June often wondered how she went from feeling invigorated by the crisp colorful fall to drenched in the darkness of winter without even noticing the transition.

  “It must be strange, going from a single career woman to half of a couple, fat with child.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” June offered.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!”

  June jumped. “What?” she asked, startled.

  “Do you have any idea how quiet you’re being?” Susan asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Well, here we are, alone for the first time in who knows when, with no patients waiting in line, John at the hospital, Jessie absorbed, and all you have to say is ‘hmm’?”

  “Did you ask me something?”

  “Not really. I was patiently waiting. For you to talk. To say something. What’s it like? What’s he like?”

  June took a second. “Well, he’s pretty much too good to be true. When I told him we were pregnant, he came as soon as he could. And for keeps. He’s retired from the…police.”

  Susan rolled her eyes.

  “Why’d you do that?” June asked.

  “Never mind. Go on. Tell me more.”

  “Well, he’s been completely patient about everything. He hasn’t complained one tiny bit about all the demands that are made on me, especially right now. This is a terrible time of year for illnesses. He tidies the house, runs errands, cooks dinner. And even if I’m called out and miss the dinner he cooked, he just saves a plate…that I may or may not get to eat.” She took a spoonful of soup. “I don’t think I could be that good if our roles were reversed. I think it would piss me off.”

  “So, are you planning a wedding? Or are you going to elope?”

  “Hmm,” June hummed.

  “Stop that!”

  “Well, Susan, I have a problem,” she said frankly. “And I have absolutely no one to talk to about it. Can it be you, or are you going to blab?”

  “Of course it can be me! Am I not the soul of discretion?”

  June made a face. Susan might indeed have sound judgment about when to speak and when to hold her tongue. Certainly no clinic confidences had leaked out since she’d been the nurse in charge. But girl talk was another matter. June could pretty much count on Susan’s best friend Julianna Dickson being cut in on the gossip at some point.

  But who else could she talk to? Not Elmer, not about this. Birdie had more than enough on her mind as it was. Aunt Myrna, the darling, could be a flake. Ursula Toopeek would be a good choice, but she was busy with five kids, a full-time teaching job, a police chief for a husband and her in-laws living under her roof.

  “Oh, what the hell,” June said. “There is this thing that Jim and I are not talking about, and it is as heavy as a four-thousand-pound boulder hanging in the air just above our heads. Getting married.”

  “Why haven’t you talked about it?”

  Simple question. Not so simple an answer. “Because… Because… Jeez, I don’t know why. Because I’ve been single all my life and it’s a really big step.”

  Susan leaned farther over the desk, frowning, and said, “Isn’t having a baby a big step?”

  “Having a baby is a very big step, but that’s done. It’s here. No matter how nervous I am at the prospect, I don’t have any choice. I still have a choice about making the great big marriage commitment. And I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “Oh, boy, is this going to stir things up,” she said.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re right about that.”

  “You said you’re not talking about it. Does that mean he hasn’t asked you?”

  “Oh, he’s asked me. Sort of.”

  “How did he ‘sort of’ ask you?”

  “He said, ‘Why don’t you take the day off and let’s go to Reno or Tahoe and get married.’”

  “Oh,” Susan said, nodding. “That qualifies. You said no?”

  “I said I couldn’t take the day off.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” she said.

  “I guess I’m going to have to talk to Jim about this,” June said sheepishly.

  Susan picked up her soup bowl and drank from it. It was such an unexpected maneuver for this dainty little blonde. When she lowered the bowl she smiled at June, showing her a tomato soup mustache an
d making her laugh. She licked off her upper lip and patted her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I could eat a horse. I must have a tapeworm or something.”

  “Where do you put it?”

  “Listen, I have to be careful. When you’re five foot three, one extra bran flake shows. So, you’d better talk to him. Maybe he’s not ready for marriage, too, and was just trying to do the right thing. If you’re both not ready, you can work on getting ready. It doesn’t really matter, as long as you’re on the same page. And as long as your child is the priority.”

  “I’ve gone from never having anyone around, to having someone around all the time.”

  Susan bit her lip. “Are you starting to feel a little…crowded?”

  “Not really, strangely enough. I kind of like it.” She smiled and then her smile faded as a recurring thought popped into her mind. “It seems fine, but I keep wondering if I’m going to suddenly, and without warning, hate sharing my space with another person. Does that happen to people?”

  “Happens to us every morning. We should have a bathroom with at least two sinks.”

  “You’re saying some of this is just normal?”

  “Uh-huh. You going to eat the rest of that sandwich? I’m famished.”

  “Help yourself. Before, when I said something about Jim being retired, you rolled your eyes. What was that about?”

  “Oh. I figured if he was in law enforcement before, you might have met him about the time of that raid on the marijuana camp.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Well, logically, in order for the feds to have a big raid on a huge cannabis plantation where they arrested dozens, there must have been agents in the area for months beforehand. The timing is right.”

  June was quiet and serious for a moment. “He was camping. With a friend. Last spring.”

  “That’s what all the undercover cops say to their girlfriends,” she said, winking. She stood up and collected their dishes onto the tray to take back to the café. “Take my advice, June. Don’t put anything that needs talking about on the back burner. Things that sit there too long tend to get burned beyond recognition.”