The door of the mews down the hall shut, and the small blond boy suddenly ran past her, opened the clinic door and stepped almost silently inside.
The men removed the blanket, and Colin held the owl while the veterinarian dexterously rolled the stocking-like thing down over the owl’s head and partway over its wings.
Lily, immersed in the feeling that this was her bird, that it had come to her for a reason, saw the owl’s distress, saw it struggle at this treatment. But surely Mosi had noticed the injured wing?
Luke opened the clinic door again. “My dad says you can come in.”
Lily wasn’t sure why she found this child so endearing. She wasn’t good with children. She didn’t like most children.
Well, certainly he was an attractive child and he seemed intelligent, but what did that mean, really? Very little.
Mosi appeared to be counting feathers. He looked up and caught Lily’s eye.
“Is the wing broken?” she asked.
“It was, but it appears to have healed—incorrectly.”
“Can you break it again and fix it?”
Mosi considered. “Best not. I don’t think he’s in pain—the physical kind. He may have been hit by a car while hunting. He’ll make a good education bird.”
So the owl was male. “Does that mean you’ll take him to schools?”
“We will,” Luke said. “My dad and I do that.”
So the owl she’d saved was to be taken in by Colin Gardner, fostered by him and his son. It would become theirs.
Well, the Aerie’s, which amounted to the same thing.
“Do you need to be licensed to take care of an injured raptor?” she asked.
“Our volunteers aren’t licensed,” said Colin. “The facility is. Why?”
“Oh—I just want to—” She couldn’t say it. It would sound too naive. “I’m just…interested. I—well, I found this owl, so I’m interested. In it. Of course, I’m only going to be here for a couple of weeks.”
“Of course,” he echoed.
Was he mocking her for not wanting to live in Nowhere, Minnesota? Well, be my guest. She didn’t want to live in the North Woods through the freezing winters. She wasn’t afraid of the cold, but she’d go nuts being so near her parents. They’d have their fingers in every aspect of her life.
“Well,” Colin shrugged. “If you want to help take care of him while you’re here, that would be all right.”
It would provide a way to escape from her parents.
“Thank you. I would like that.”
“I’ll show you around,” Luke said.
Colin’s glance at his son seemed to Lily to be nearly indifferent. “And then she can come back tomorrow,” he said, “after the owl’s had a chance to settle in.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to come to Music Night?” she asked innocently, knowing the answer perfectly well. She could tell without asking that he had no hot date.
“Our bedtime is pretty early,” he said, with more grace than she had anticipated. “Thank you anyhow.”
In other words, thanks but no thanks.
Lily nodded and followed Luke Gardner’s small blond head out of the clinic.
CHAPTER THREE
SHE DROVE HOME thinking about Luke. He’d shown her the raptors in each mews for long-term residents. Then he’d shown her the room full of cages containing various live food for all the raptors. Luke, who was eight, he said, seemed to have no trouble at all with the idea of feeding a cute bunny rabbit to an eagle or a Great Horned Owl. Lily thought she might; would the owl she’d rescued eat live food?
The Jack Russell terrier, it transpired, was Luke’s, and Lily wondered if it was in any danger of being carried off by any of the Aerie’s residents. She hadn’t asked Luke.
Instead, she’d asked him if he liked to read.
Yes. Harry Potter. But The Hobbit is my favorite book.
You’re reading it yourself?
I’ve read it twice by myself.
That wasn’t necessarily true, but Colin did seem to be fulfilling his parental duties to some degree. For instance, Luke seemed to know a great deal about raptors and trees.
He could name several of the trees around the buildings, which was better than she could do. But as he introduced her to one of his favorite resident birds, a Harlan’s hawk that had been raised in captivity and had imprinted on its human owner, he’d asked, Do you know where people go when they die?
Lily had shaken her head. No. I don’t think anyone does.
He hadn’t answered.
When she’d left, Colin had been inside making dinner. She’d looked in the door, which Luke had opened, and he’d said, “Oh. Goodbye. Ready for dinner, Luke?”
Luke, like Luke Skywalker.
Of course, it was unlikely Colin even remembered how her brother used to love Star Wars. Probably his son had been named for the Gospel-writer or just because Colin and his wife liked the name.
No more information about that wife. Perhaps Lily’s parents would know the story.
But she shrank from the idea of asking them—or letting them know she’d be returning to the Aerie to look after the injured owl.
It occurred to her suddenly that she might actually be wounding her parents by going back to the Aerie, even to take care of the owl. She and Colin, together, were the reason Ryan had died—the means to his death. Her parents might take it personally, very personally, if she chose to spend even a second more than necessary in the company of Colin Gardner. Which meant she should be careful what she said upon her return home.
But neither of her parents asked even one thing about her trip to the Aerie; they didn’t even encourage her to share negative impressions of Colin as manager of the Aerie and as a parent.
Nor was anything said the next morning, while she fished with her mother from their old dinghy and caught a couple of walleyes. They cooked the fish, her catch and her mother’s, for breakfast, and afterward Lily swam across the lake and back. As she neared the far shore, she wondered if she’d see Colin or Luke, but neither appeared. While she swam, she wondered what to tell her parents when she left to take care of the owl. Afternoon seemed the best time of day to go—especially since she could put off telling her parents until then.
That afternoon at about three-thirty, when she came downstairs in pale green capri-length pants, a white tank top and white platform sandals, her mother said, “Where are you going? You look like you’re going to the city.”
Lily wore her backpack-style purse with her cell phone clipped to it. If she told her mother the truth, Marie would never let her hear the end of it.
Shopping. The lie was on the tip of her tongue.
But she was forty years old! She should either not do this thing that would trouble her parents so much or she should face up to their reaction. Deceit would only de-mean her.
And spare them pain, perhaps.
I shouldn’t have said I wanted to take care of it.
“I’m going to help look after the owl I rescued.”
“Like that?” exclaimed her mother. “You’ve dressed like you’re going on a date.”
“I have a work shirt in the car,” Lily assured her.
“Why you? Can’t he take care of it?”
He.
“I want to help. It’s going to be a long-term resident. His wing—it’s a male—can’t be fixed.”
“Are you going to feed it? They eat live food. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to think about it, but she’d do what she had to.
Marie Moran put her hands on her hips. “I’m astonished by how little you’ve changed, Lily. Have you forgotten that Helen and Bert are coming tonight?”
I tried to forget.
“You’re forty years old,” Marie went on, “but you’re still chasing after Colin Gardner as though he cared about you at all. He’s on the make and always was.”
Lily didn’t know where her mother had gotten that mean strea
k. Lily felt no need to protect Colin from her mother’s meanness. But she wished she had as little feeling about the mother-daughter digs that were always so close to the bone.
“I’m not chasing Colin Gardner.” Lily hated the way her voice shook. “I have chosen to take care of the owl I found at the place where I last saw Ryan alive. This has always been about the owl. But I don’t know why you blame Colin for what happened to Ryan when you should blame me. It was my fault. You know it was. I was Ryan’s babysitter. I let it happen. There’s no point pretending any different. And yes, I was the sort of silly teenager who paid more attention to boys my own age than to my little brother when I was supposed to be taking care of him. If St. Helen had been available to babysit instead of dutifully helping at the church luncheon for senior citizens, Ryan would probably be alive today. I really am the terrible person you think I am. Let’s just accept that. Blame me. Blame Colin, too, if you like, but why blame him instead of me?”
Marie had frozen. “Ryan died a long time ago,” she said. “You were very nearly a child yourself. Colin was older.”
“By one year! And I was fifteen. Anyhow, it was a long time ago. Can’t we all move on?” As soon as the words were out, she heard how unthinkable and how thoughtless they were.
But her mother showed no reaction to her plea, the plea Lily knew to be appalling in its insensitivity. “I’m sorry,” Lily whispered quickly.
“I don’t suppose he told you how his wife died.”
He hadn’t even told Lily that his wife had died; nor had Luke told her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“It sounded to me like the same sort of thing as Ryan’s death, another drowning, another accident,” Marie continued. “You don’t like careless men, Lily, so I’m surprised you’re spending time with him.”
“I’m spending time with the owl,” Lily repeated. “It’s a Great Gray Owl. It seemed to me like—”
“A sign from Ryan?” Marie’s face changed, softened. Her mother’s features actually lost their sharp-boned tension, but at least she looked interested, lively with the urge to share something positive. “He sends us messages, you know,” she told Lily. “There are things that always remind us of him. The loons, when they come back.”
Lily nearly swayed with exhaustion. She had hoped her parents were truly ready to put Ryan’s death behind them, that this was the meaning behind their decision to finally scatter his ashes. It no longer seemed likely.
“Yes,” Lily said. “I guess that’s what I mean. A sign from Ryan.” It wasn’t precisely the truth, wasn’t the truth because she did not believe that Ryan, wherever he was, would send a message to her, Lily, or to any of them. “And that’s why I’m taking care of it.”
COLIN CAME OUT of the cabin when she drove up. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt. To Lily’s surprise, he smiled when he saw her. It was a rugged, attractive smile, and she wondered how she’d find it if she were the sort of woman, like so many of her friends, who could actually become significantly sexually excited by a man, by any man.
Why were they all such a huge disappointment? Helen, her cousin, bragged incessantly about Bert, the incredibly boring man she’d been seeing for years, and the whole thing made Lily’s stomach churn. In addition to not sleeping together “until we’re sure”—Helen’s suspect explanation—they seemed to be in a tiresome, never-ending competition to see if they could spend even less money than Lily’s parents. For Christmas, Bert had given Helen a wallet that looked like it had come from Wal-Mart.
That was all! Lily had exclaimed to one of her girlfriends, feeling petty and furious at the same time over how cheap Bert was and how proud Helen was of his cheapness.
Would Colin Gardner be cheap?
Lily doubted it. Not extravagant, but not cheap. Cheap wasn’t practical, and Lily felt certain that, if nothing else, Colin was practical at heart.
He walked with her toward the row of mews housing long-term residents.
Lily, as though determined to put her foot wrong everywhere she could, to bring up every painful and awkward subject for perusal, said, “My mother told me your wife died. I’m sorry.”
But it wasn’t the wrong thing to say.
“Thank you.” He paused, squinting up at the trees.
She followed his gaze to a tree house, another tree house, as ramshackle as the one on the lakeshore. But Luke was sitting on a platform on this one, high, high above the ground.
Her heart pounded.
“Hi, Lily!”
“Hi, Luke. Be careful,” she called, watching the tiny bare legs and bare feet. “Doesn’t that scare you?” she asked Colin.
He didn’t answer immediately, and Lily was left looking at him, admiring his features. “If it does, is that a reason to make him come down?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Lily, quietly. “Fear—that kind of fear—is part of our survival mechanism. Genetic survival, too. I’m scared looking at him.”
“He’ll be fine,” Colin said, as though he knew something about it that she didn’t. Then he changed the subject. “Do you dance anymore?”
“Not really.” She stole another glance and saw Luke reaching for another limb, pulling himself higher. He must be twenty-five feet or more off the ground.
“You wanted to dance with one of the ballets.”
She’d almost forgotten that. Still watching Luke, she said, “I suppose I changed after Ryan died. I went to live with my grandparents, because my parents wanted to live here full-time. I couldn’t stand being here after what happened. This is the first time I’ve been back,” she admitted.
“I couldn’t stand being in Utah,” Colin said. “After Marisa died. I came back here….”
The sentence drifted off.
Luke hoisted himself higher in the tree. She longed to make him come down, to climb safely down to the ground. Colin was insane to let him do this.
“How did she die?” She jerked her head quickly to see Colin. “If you don’t mind my asking?”
“She drowned. In a flash flood. She was trapped beneath debris and broke her leg. She’d been hiking alone, looking for a falcon we’d lost. She headed a raptor center where I volunteered—that’s how we met.” He paused. “You know, her death felt to me like payment of a karmic debt that I incurred when your brother died.”
It was impossible to keep looking at Luke and impossible not to watch the small boy.
“Is that why you think your son’s in no danger up there?” She almost whispered it, shocked that their conversation had reached such an intimate level so quickly.
“I didn’t say I think he’s in no danger.”
“You’re a fatalist,” she exclaimed, turning on him then. “Hugo called it ‘that stigma of crime and unhappiness.’ And he was right.”
To her surprise he smiled again, and the smile was even more attractive than she remembered. Wolfish. He was a very handsome man, more so in maturity than as a teenager.
“And you’re not a fatalist?” he asked.
“How could I believe that Ryan’s death was fate? That would deny my responsibility.” A pause. “You think it was?”
“I’m not a fatalist,” he answered. “The Greeks may have believed that we can’t escape what fate has in store for us, but I think we affect everything around us, even the smallest things.”
Then why do you let your son climb that tree?
At that moment, Luke began to slide expertly down a long thick rope whose upper end was fastened to a bough above him.
But at least he was coming down. Winky the Jack Russell terrier barked up at him as the boy descended and wagged her tail as he touched down.
“Hi, Winky,” he said and petted her, then ran to his father and hurled himself into Colin’s arms. The soles of his bare feet were black with grime, and Lily saw knots in his shoulder-length blond hair. He then turned to see her face. “Hi, Lily,” he repeated. He looked at his father and whispered something to Colin.
Colin looked at him and shook hi
s head. “You can.”
Luke, suddenly shy, buried his face in his father’s shoulder.
Colin said, “We named the owl.” He carried Luke toward the mews, and Lily walked beside them.
When Colin said nothing else, she put the question to Luke. “What did you call him?”
“Socrates,” Luke said.
“I told him you teach philosophy, and that philosophers are thinkers, and he asked for the name of a famous philosopher.”
“That’s a great name,” Lily told Luke. “I couldn’t have thought of a better one.”
Luke slid out of Colin’s arms and ran ahead. “Mosi said you could feed Socrates a rat today.”
“Great.” Would she have to pick it up?
“There’s not much to do for one bird,” Colin said. “Would you like to learn about the others while you’re here? And we have some eaglets that are a lot of work. We use a blind and hand puppets to feed them. We also have a falcon we think we’re going to be able to release—at least we’re working in that direction.”
Lily saw this, not as an attempt to secure another volunteer, but as the generous gift he no doubt meant it to be. “Thank you!” she said, meaning it. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Colin’s answering glance held surprise, although it wasn’t unflattering. More…speculative.
No other volunteers seemed to be around that afternoon. No Mosi either. Lily half expected Colin to make an excuse and leave her with Luke, but he stayed with them instead, giving her advice on entering the mews, watching Luke show her the supplies to clean the area, showing her later how to push or let food into the mews through a one-way food flap.
She used heavy gloves to pick up the white rat. At least it wasn’t cute.
After they’d fed Socrates, they watched him through the glass.
He sat on a perch high in one corner. Lily thought of the way Great Gray Owls dived in winter for prey, dived into snow. This bird would not do that again.
Luke wandered down the row of mews to visit the Harlan’s hawk that was his favorite. “No dancing with a famous ballet,” Colin said, almost to himself. “What are your dreams now?”
To answer that question truthfully would be sad. She knew the sadness of the answer every day, not just today because he’d asked. But it was just growing up, wasn’t it? “Dreams are different when you get older,” was all she could say.
25 Years Page 12
