Just 18 Summers

by Rene Gutteridge

  “Oh.” Butch glanced at him. “Well, you go first.”

  “Um . . .”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s just . . . awkward.”

  “Why?”

  Tippy glanced at him. “It’s about marriage. Again.”

  “Oh.”

  “And it’s awkward because of what happened to Jenny and now you’re not married, and I know I keep dwelling on this, but . . .” Tippy sighed and tried to gather his strength. “What happens to a marriage once your kid arrives? I mean, is it awful? Tell me the truth. Is it really awful?”

  Butch chuckled.

  “It is, isn’t it? It messes everything up.” Tippy shook his head, staring at the ground. “I don’t know if I can be a good dad. Kids seem to get disappointed pretty easily, you know? What if I can’t make a birthday party? What if I totally wreck this kid’s life? What if—?”

  “Tippy, hold on. What’s got you so riled up?”

  Tippy threw his hands up. “Daphne and I are hardly speaking. We fight every time we see each other. One of the books said she might be hormonal, but I thought that meant crying over accidentally breaking a dish. I didn’t know it meant that she was going to turn into Medusa.”

  “You’re right,” Butch said, gazing over at Ava. “Everything changes. And it’s the hardest work you’ll ever do. Remember that Harrington home we built a couple of years back?”

  “The one where we found Eddie crying behind the house because he was so tired?”

  “Yeah. That’s the one. Well, it’s like a thousand times worse than that.”

  Like an implosion, Tippy’s resolve collapsed in front of Butch’s eyes.

  “But it’s worth it.”

  “How can it be worth it?”

  “Because you don’t know it yet, but you’ll love in a way you didn’t think you were capable of.”

  “I’m not sure Daphne and I are going to make it.”

  “You’ll make it.”

  “What can I do to make it better? I can’t even stand to be around her.”

  “Just take all the kindness you have in you and pour it out on her.”

  “I’ve already read a half-dozen books.”

  “Then read a dozen.”

  Tippy folded his arms. After a little bit he asked, “What were you going to ask me?”

  Butch nodded toward Keith, who was still hammering away while everyone else took a break. He was the first one here and the last one to go. “What do you think of Keith?”

  “Great guy. Like him a lot. Sorry he has fallen on hard times.”

  “Yeah. I like him a lot too.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I can’t afford to hire him.”

  Tippy dragged his steel-toed boot against the concrete. “Probably not. Work hasn’t exactly been chasing us down. Plus this house is going to cost us a pretty penny.”

  “But I don’t think I can afford not to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Butch said, turning away and gripping the side of his truck, “if Jenny were here, she would tell me to hire Keith. I’ve been crunching numbers, and it makes no sense. Daphne would tell us it makes no sense. No sense whatsoever. But I feel like I should.”

  Tippy nodded. “Then you should do it.”

  “You’re supposed to be my voice of reason.”

  “You’re your own voice of reason, and if even you are saying to do it, then it’s gotta be done.”

  Butch blew out a breath, the breath that always told his gut to be sensible. The breath that always told him to be cautious. Then he turned.

  “Hey, Keith, come here a sec.”

  Keith dropped what he was doing and hurried over. “Yeah?”

  “You’re a great worker.”

  “Oh, uh, thanks.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

  “You want a job?”

  “What kind?”

  “Chief justice of the Supreme Court.”

  Tippy chuckled, and even some of the guys nearby laughed. Butch hadn’t realized they were listening.

  “What do you think?” he said, smiling at Keith. “Working for me. Construction.”

  Keith blinked, his typically docile expression frozen in shock. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Absolutely. Ava and Bryn can spend the rest of the summer together. We’ll figure out something to do with them.”

  Keith shook Butch’s hand, nodding his thanks. Butch remembered what Jenny had said once about giving. “Once you understand you’ve changed somebody’s life, no gift you’ll ever receive will stack up. Nothing can compare to what you feel the day you look someone in the eye and show them they were worth all your effort, that they were worthy of everything you could give.”

  A UPS truck rumbled up. The driver put it in park right next to Butch’s truck and hopped out, holding a package. “Butch Browning?”

  “Yep,” Butch said.

  “Sign here.”

  The driver left, and Butch waved Ava over. “I need your help with something.”

  “What, Daddy? The nail gun?”

  “Nooo, not the nail gun. Open this box.”

  Ava put it on the ground and stooped.

  “Pull that tab there,” Butch said.

  She pulled it and tried to peer inside. “What is it?”

  Butch helped her pull out the tarp-like roll. It was heavy, so he helped her lift it. “Come on over here,” he said, walking toward the house. “Boys, come here. We have a presentation to make!”

  Ava gazed up at him. “A presentation?”

  “Yep.”

  The guys followed them.

  “Now, you stand here and hold it like this,” he said, showing her, “and I’m going to walk over here and open it.”

  “Okay,” Ava said.

  Butch walked sideways, unrolling the material with the corners folded together. When he was four feet away, he let go of one of the corners. A sign fell open.

  Still holding her corner, Ava stepped in front of the banner to get a good look. This House Is Part of the Jenny Browning Project. Her face was so bright with delight it was as if she’d been offered a year’s supply of cotton candy. “Dad, it’s perfect.”

  Butch smiled. “Okay. Let’s get it hung.”

  CHAPTER 36

  CHARLES

  CHARLES CHECKED HIS WATCH as he whipped into the driveway. It couldn’t have been worse timing. Next door, the tow truck had arrived on the Anderson property, and the driver was climbing back into the cab. He started it up and began pulling down the drive, the sore sight creaking and groaning as it was dragged away.

  Charles hurriedly exited his car, but again, the timing couldn’t have been worse. Larry, trailed by his two boys, came running out of the house, chasing the truck and car down the street before giving up. Larry threw his hands up. Chip kicked his foot and hung his head.

  Charles swallowed. He hadn’t exactly agreed to the idea that it should be towed. Helen was the one who’d insisted on it. But he hadn’t disagreed either. It was an awfully ugly thing, and who knew what crazy plan they had for it once they finished. Lawn ornament? Playhouse?

  Grabbing his briefcase and a plastic shopping bag out of the car, he gave one more glance toward the Andersons and moved toward his house. Larry, though, called Charles’s name. Larry was a guy who always smiled and waved. Tonight he was not smiling, nor was he waving. Charles wanted to bolt for the door, but that would definitely make him look even guiltier.

  “Hi, um, Larry,” Charles said with a brief wave. “Nice day. Real nice day. Well, better get inside.”

  “Hold up,” Larry said. “Boys, go inside.” Chip and Nathan skulked toward the front porch, throwing Charles a couple of nasty glances but not saying a word. Larry approached the fence between them.

  Charles stood a good distance back. “What do you need?”

  “I don’t need anything, Charles. But why would you do a thing like that? Have our car towed?�
��

  Charles sighed. He was caught. He dropped his briefcase to the ground and slowly walked to the fence. “I’m sorry, Larry. I really am. It was driving Helen up a wall. You know how she likes things neat and tidy. She’d get up every morning, stare out the window, and it’d put her in a bad mood.”

  “I see,” Larry said.

  “Look, I didn’t mind it. But it is in our HOA rules, you know. . . .”

  “Okay. It’s just that . . .” Larry looked at the empty spot in the driveway. The only thing left was a black oil stain. “We were having a lot of fun.”

  Charles nodded. “I have to admit, it looked like you were.” He cleared his throat. “What’s been going on over there, anyway? We’ve noticed a lot of activity. Even during the week. You get laid off?”

  “Nah. Just taking some time off to spend with the kids. Nathan graduated. You know how it feels, with Madison graduating and off to college soon. Robin’s getting married in a couple of weeks.” Larry sighed, gazing up at the sky. “Man, time goes fast, doesn’t it? I mean, it goes really fast. I can’t believe they’re moving out. I’m glad for all the time we had with them, but boy, do I wish I had more.”

  Charles looked at his feet. “Larry, we’ve been neighbors for years now. You’re home almost every night for dinner.”

  “I guess. I tried. Maybe I should’ve stayed for breakfast, too, instead of running out the door, trying to get to work on time. I could’ve stayed up reading them a book instead of reading reports. I don’t know—maybe I’m just realizing time is running out.”

  Charles nodded. “Me too, me too. I just got back from a business trip. Brought the kids some stuff.”

  “Oh. That’s nice.” Larry took a step away from the fence. “Better go. Listen, I won’t tell Beth that Helen was the one who called. Scrapbooking is Beth’s only activity during the week where she gets to go do something for herself. I’d hate for it to be awkward, because Beth can hold a grudge. See you later.”

  Charles watched Larry walk to his house. He checked his watch, a habit he couldn’t break if someone held a gun to his head, and rushed inside.

  Helen stood in the kitchen. “Hi, honey. Want me to heat some dinner up for you?”

  “No thanks. Are the kids upstairs?”

  “Yes, they’re . . .”

  Charles darted to the stairs.

  “What’s the hurry?” Helen called, but Charles didn’t have time to explain.

  Upstairs he noticed Cory’s door open. He was in bed, reading a comic book. “Hey, buddy!”

  Cory didn’t glance up.

  Charles pushed the door open and walked in. He sat on the edge of the bed, remembering the days when Cory wanted to be tucked in and sung to. Charles didn’t have time for long bedtime routines back then. A kiss and a hug and that was it. Maybe a story if he didn’t have to be at work too early.

  Since the kite incident, Cory had been distant, though.

  “Hey, listen, I wanted to—”

  “I’m tired. I better get to bed.”

  “But I brought you something from my trip.” Charles pulled a remote-control helicopter from the white sack. “It actually flies. You can even fly it indoors. It’s so cool. I played with one at the store where I got it.”

  “Neat.”

  “It cost a hundred bucks or something.”

  “Thanks.” Cory went back to reading his comic book.

  “You don’t seem very excited,” Charles said.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Look, buddy, I’m sorry I couldn’t make the kite-building night. Something really crazy came up at work. A guy authorized a deal that he shouldn’t have, and it was a big mess.”

  “Okay.”

  “Didn’t your mother explain all this?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I’ve got some important opportunities coming up at work. Opportunities that a lot of guys only dream of. And if they come true, it could mean some amazing things for our family.”

  “What kinds of things?” Cory asked.

  “I don’t know, like maybe a house.”

  “We have a house.”

  “But a really cool house.”

  “I like our house.”

  “What about a pool?”

  Cory shrugged. “It’d get boring swimming by myself.”

  It struck him then: Cory felt alone. How? With all the activities? All the opportunities they were giving their kids? He glanced around Cory’s room at the souvenirs he’d brought back from business trips. There was an elephant carved out of ivory from Africa. A boomerang from Australia. A wooden train set from China. The list went on and on.

  “Cory,” Charles said, “I want to make sure you have a stable future. Do you understand? That you can go to any university you want. Those kinds of things. Give you a good, reliable car when you turn sixteen.”

  “Maybe we can get an old car and fix it up?” Cory’s eyes brightened as he looked at Charles. “That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

  Suddenly Helen was in the room, her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised high. “Cory, you’re supposed to be studying for your spelling bee. You’re not going to achieve anything with your nose stuck in those stupid comics.”

  Cory looked at Charles, who tried a faint smile, but Cory might not have even seen it. He tossed the comic aside and grabbed his sheet of spelling words off the bedside table. Helen left the room but Charles lingered, unsure what to say or do. Cory didn’t bother acknowledging he was there.

  Charles was still holding the helicopter. He had been so excited to give it to Cory. Just a couple of years ago, the smallest of gifts caused him such happiness. Now, it was as if this box were totally empty, totally void of any intent of kindness.

  Charles gently set it on the edge of the bed and walked to the door.

  “Dad?”

  He turned. “Yes, Cory?”

  “Maybe you can help me study my spelling words tonight?”

  Charles smiled. “Sure, I would love to.” But at that moment his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he didn’t have to look. It was a reminder that he had an international conference call in thirty minutes.

  Cory’s eyes shifted from Charles back to his paper. He knew what that sound meant.

  “I’m sorry, buddy. Maybe next time.”

  “Shut the door on your way out.”

  Charles did, closing the door gently and standing in the hallway for a moment, still clutching the white shopping bag. “I’ll make it up to you, buddy,” he whispered. “I promise.” He had to look at his schedule, clear a large frame of time. It had to be a priority. First thing in the morning when he got to the office. After the team meeting, anyway, but before his lunch with Don Willis.

  Across the hall he heard Madison and Hannah in the bathroom, giggling the way girls do. He smiled, remembering the first time he heard Madison giggle. Helen had recorded it for him, and he’d watched it late one night. It was pure joy to hear a baby giggle. It was pure joy to hear them now.

  He knocked on the door.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Dad.”

  The door opened. Hannah stood there with foam around her lips like a rabid dog, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She had a goofy side that Helen didn’t approve of but that Charles thought she got from him, back in his younger years when he could afford to be goofy. Helen didn’t really know that side of him, but he wished the girls did.

  “Hey, Dad,” they said in unison. Madison put her toothbrush away.

  “Hey. Sorry I’m home so late.”

  “We had lasagna, your favorite,” Hannah said. “Mom saved you some.”

  “Awesome. Listen, Madison, I got something for you.”

  “Me?” Madison slipped by Hannah and stood in the doorway. Hannah peeked over her shoulder. “Why?”

  “I’m sorry, but I . . .” Charles looked at the carpet. Why was this so hard to say? “It turns out I have a business trip coming up and I might not be able to m
ake it to your birthday party.” He hoped the might could soften the blow, but he knew there was no might. His gaze lingered on Madison, who was nodding like she understood, smiling like it didn’t bother her. He’d seen her do this a thousand times, but suddenly he knew she was faking it. There was pain in her eyes, and he’d never seen it before. Maybe he’d been too busy making excuses to see this for what it was.

  Charles clutched the bag. “If I don’t get back, we’ll go out later. Okay? Just the two of us, maybe to that Thai place you like so much.”

  “Okay.”

  “So I thought I’d give you your present—one of your presents—now.”

  Used to be, when she was a little girl, she’d hop up and down at the sight of a sack, knowing there was something special for her inside. And he’d smile and tease her, pretending to take it out, but then teasing her again. She would almost faint with anticipation.

  He reached inside the sack and pulled out an eight-by-ten head shot that he’d even found a frame for at the airport gift shop. He turned it toward his chest so she couldn’t see it. “You know how I was in California? Well, while I was there, I met with a guy who knows someone you’d love to meet.”

  “Channing Tatum?” Madison asked, her face almost expressing some excitement.

  “No,” Charles said. “Not her.”

  “Him,” Hannah said.

  “Oh. Well, think singer.”

  “Taylor Swift?” Hannah asked.

  “No . . . think singer/actress with her own TV show.”

  Both girls looked perplexed and Charles smiled. He turned the picture around. “Ashley Tarleton!”

  Both girls stared at the picture.

  “From your favorite show, This Life of Mine.”

  Madison reached for it. Hannah, he noticed, had stepped back into the bathroom and was finishing her teeth.

  “I had her sign it to you. Look, it says, Madison, best wishes.”

  “Oh, wow! This is great!” She pulled the frame to her chest. “Thank you.”

  “You can show that off to all your friends,” Charles said with a wink.

  “Yeah. They’ll be so jealous.”

  “I thought you’d like that.”

  “Well, good night, Dad. Thanks for the picture.”