by Sherry Lewis
Monty assumed a look of irritation. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because my brother was killed and other people were hurt,” Gabe said, purposely keeping his voice low and even. “And because you and mom are obviously still deeply affected by it.”
“Well, don’t let it worry you. We’ll get over it.”
“Will you?”
“Sure. Why not?” Monty returned to his desk and shoved a stack of paperwork out of his way. “Let it rest, boy. Your mother may believe this act of yours, but I don’t.”
“It’s not an act.”
A smirk crossed his father’s face. “Really? You’re ready to stay home? Step into the business and take over where Peter left off? You’re going to stick around, be an uncle to that boy, a son to your mother?”
“I never said I was here to stay.”
“Then we have nothing to talk about.”
“Why? Because you say we don’t?”
Shoving away from the desk, Monty glowered across its expanse. “I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Why not?”
He jammed his chair under the desk so hard, a stack of papers slid onto the floor. He ignored it and started toward the door.
In frustration, Gabe went after him. “What’s your problem, anyway? You’re acting like you have something to hide.”
His father’s step faltered. He recovered quickly, but not before Gabe noticed his hesitation.
“Is that it? You’re hiding something?” Gabe grabbed his father’s arm and pulled him around to face him. “What’s going on around here? Why are you suddenly drinking in the middle of the day? What’s going on with Mom? I want to know.”
“It’s none of your damn business.”
“The hell it’s not.”
Jerking away, Monty wrenched open the outside door. “Drop it, Gabe.”
“I can’t.”
“I don’t see why not,” Monty said as he started down the stairs. “You were able to forget about us before.”
“I never forgot,” Gabe shouted after him. “I just didn’t come back because I was afraid you’d do this. And I was right.” He took the stairs two at a time behind his father. “You’re so eager to lay the blame for this at my feet. Why don’t you look at your own part in it? Maybe if you didn’t treat me like some kind of leper, I’d want to come around more often.”
Monty reached the bottom of the steps, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t stop walking. Didn’t even acknowledge that Gabe had spoken.
In frustration, Gabe slammed his hand against the metal stair rail. Pain shot through his hand and up his arm, but he barely noticed it. He set off toward the parking lot where he’d left the Jeep, wondering if he was on a fool’s mission. Maybe the fever had scrambled his brain. Why had he ever thought he could get the old man to accept him just because Peter was gone?
IT WAS LABOR DAY WEEKEND before Siddah could carve a few minutes from her schedule to take Bobby school shopping. After dragging herself out of bed on Saturday morning, she nursed a cup of coffee, threw together a quick breakfast and ran a batch of laundry so she and Bobby would have clean jeans to wear.
Last night’s dishes sat on the counter, waiting for her to wash them, and a huge stack of newspapers teetered in the corner, reminding her that she hadn’t been to the recycling drop-off in far too long.
The past couple of weeks had left her so exhausted she would have preferred to stay at home in her pajamas all day, but school would be starting on Tuesday, and she already felt guilty enough about making Bobby wait. With the holiday weekend stretching out in front of them and three days off in a row, she planned to make up for her recent lack of attention.
Yawning hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, Siddah stepped over a pair of shoes Bobby had left in the living room and scooped up an empty candy wrapper from the couch. Hard as it was to admit, she wasn’t handling the extra responsibility at the office well.
By midmorning, she and Bobby were on their way to the Ben Franklin store. Bobby sat ramrod straight, staring out at the town as they passed. Temperatures had soared for the past week, and today’s forecast called for a high in the upper nineties—unusually hot weather for Montana in September. The heat only added to Siddah’s fatigue.
She had to circle the block twice before she found a parking space. She stifled another yawn as she followed Bobby along the shaded sidewalk. When they reached the Ben Franklin, he stopped with his hand on the door and looked back with obvious impatience. “Come on, Mom. How come you’re so slow?”
She grinned at her eager young son. “I’m slow because I’m not the one getting new clothes, I guess. How come you’re in such a hurry?”
Bobby pulled the door and held it open with his back while she stepped inside. “I want to get to Grandma’s before Gabe leaves. He said he’d wait for me, but maybe he won’t.”
“But honey, you’re not going to Grandma’s today,” Siddah reminded him. “It’s Saturday. Our day to spend together.”
“But Gabe said he’d show me the spot where him and Dad used to go fishing.”
“Can’t he show you on Tuesday?”
“No, because on Tuesday I go to school.”
“But I’m off work today,” Siddah pointed out. “I was hoping that we could spend the day together.”
Bobby sidled past a display of school supplies and turned toward the clothing department. “We still can. You can talk to Grandma and Grandpa while Gabe and me go fishing.”
“That’s not exactly together is it? Besides, I had other things planned for us today.”
His freckled nose scrunched in concentration. “Like what?”
“Well…like shopping for school clothes and then having a special lunch together.” Even as she talked, she knew her plans couldn’t hold a candle to time with Gabe and a secret fishing hole. And the expression on Bobby’s face let her know that she was right. “I even thought we could stop by and watch a peewee football game,” she said, hopefully. “The Falcons are playing this afternoon.”
Bobby’s expression went suddenly flat. “I don’t care.”
The fact that he responded at all gave her hope. “But the Falcons are your team.”
“Not anymore.”
“They could be again, you know. Coach said you could come back anytime.”
Bobby lifted his shoulder in the old, lifeless shrug that had all but disappeared since Gabe came to town. “I don’t want to.”
“You might like it if you’d just give it a try. It’s been a while. You’ve probably forgotten how much fun you had on the team.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Well, then, why don’t we check out the game? Maybe if you see the other kids—”
Bobby rounded on her, his eyes flashing, his mouth twisted with emotion. “I don’t want to play football, Mom. I keep telling you that, but you won’t listen to me.”
Shocked by his outburst, Siddah drew him to one side of the aisle. “I do listen to you, Bobby. But you’ve always loved football, so it’s a little hard for me to believe that you suddenly don’t like it at all.”
“I’m not lying.”
“I never said you were,” she assured him quickly. “Maybe it would help if you’d tell me why you don’t like it.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared too quickly for her to read it. “I just don’t.”
“All of a sudden?”
“No.”
“So you were only pretending to like it before?”
“No.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and focused on his hands as if he suddenly found them fascinating. “But I don’t like it now. I’d rather go fishing with Uncle Gabe.”
Siddah didn’t want to do or say the wrong thing and send him into a back slide, so she swallowed her personal disappointment and sent him a cheery smile. “Okay, then, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. But let’s get your school clothes first, okay?”
The
relief on his face was palpable. “Sure. How many shirts do I get?”
With her hand on his shoulder, Siddah started walking again. “That will depend on whether or not we can find a sale.”
“And if we can?”
“Then it will depend on how good the sale is.” She tried to regain her earlier optimism, but she didn’t believe for a minute that Bobby had suddenly discovered a dislike for the game or for his team. So what was going on with him? And why wouldn’t he tell her what it was?
She wondered if Gabe knew, and hated the flash of envy that tore through her when she thought he might. This wasn’t about her, she told herself firmly. This was about Bobby. Besides, she was almost positive Gabe would have told her if he knew. And whether she liked it or not, Gabe was the person most likely to bring her son back to her.
A FEW HOURS LATER, Siddah pulled off the highway onto the lane that led to her in-laws’ house. On the seat beside her, Bobby leaned forward, straining against his seat belt in his eagerness to get there.
“I hope Gabe’s still there,” he said. “I hope he hasn’t gone without me.”
The look on his face and the eagerness in his voice both pleased and frightened her. What if he invested too much in this new relationship with Gabe? Siddah knew how it felt to be left behind, and she didn’t want that for her son. “He’s still there,” she assured him. “I called while you were in the dressing room trying on jeans.”
“And he said he’d wait for me?”
“He said he’d wait.” Working up a smile, she lowered the visor to block the sun. “You like Gabe a lot, don’t you?”
“Sure. He’s cool. You should come with us sometime, Mom. I’ll bet Gabe could even teach you how to fish.”
Siddah laughed and shook her head. “I think I’ll pass. Fishing isn’t really my thing.”
“I’ll bet you’d like it the way Gabe fishes. You could sit on a rock or something and read. That’s what Grandma used to do when she went with him and Dad.”
“Did she?” Siddah didn’t remember Peter ever talking about that. “I might enjoy the reading part,” she admitted, “but I’m not sure about the sitting on a rock bit—unless the rock is cushioned.”
“Rocks don’t come with cushions,” Bobby said, his little face serious. “But I’ll bet you could bring one with you.”
“If I ever decide to go fishing with you and Gabe, I’ll definitely do that.” The house came into view between the trees, and Siddah slowed the car slightly. “I’m really glad you like Gabe,” she said, “but you do know that he’s going to be leaving again, right?”
“Someday, probably. But he’ll come back to visit. He said so.”
“Did he?” Could they count on that promise? Or would he forget once he got out there in the world again? “Well, I hope he does,” she said, keeping her voice carefully even, “but he’s a busy man with important things to do. He might not have a lot of time for us once he gets back to work.”
Bobby’s smile evaporated. “Yes he will. He’s not gonna forget about me. He told me so.”
“I never said he’d forget,” Siddah assured him. “Just that…well, he might get busy and he might not be able to get back here very often.”
“Nope.” Bobby shook his head firmly and lifted his chin defiantly. “That’s not going to happen. He promised.”
“People make promises all the time,” Siddah warned as she parked and turned off the engine. “They don’t mean anything.”
“Maybe not to you,” Bobby said, his voice strangely quiet, “but they do to some people. Not everybody likes their work best.”
Siddah sucked in a stunned breath. “Is that what you think? That I like my work more than you?”
“Well, don’t you?”
“No! I’m only working so many hours to make things better for us. I don’t want you to do without.”
“Without what?”
“New school clothes, for one thing. Food on the table and a roof over your head for another. Those things don’t just happen by magic, you know.”
“But you didn’t used to work.”
“I didn’t have to when Daddy was alive.” But her dreams of staying home and being the mother she’d always wanted for herself had been lost with everything else.
Bobby sent her a sidelong glance. “So are you gonna work from now on?”
“I think I’m going to have to. But we’re adjusting, aren’t we?”
Bobby nodded, but Siddah could tell that he wasn’t convinced.
“It’s going to be okay,” she assured him. “Things will settle down at work, and we’ll get used to our new schedule. We’ll catch up at home, and pretty soon this will feel like it’s the way life is supposed to be.”
“But I don’t want life to be like this,” Bobby lashed out. “I don’t like it when you go to work all the time. I want it to be the way it was before.”
“I understand that,” Siddah said evenly, “but sometimes things change and there’s nothing we can do about it. I felt the same way you do when my mama died and I had to go live with my aunt.” She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for Bobby’s hand. “She didn’t really want me there and I was miserable, but I couldn’t change it. And I can’t change this. We’re just going to have to get used to it.”
He jerked away from her as if she’d hurt him. “Well, I don’t want to. I want you to be home. You’re no fun anymore.” Before she could stop him, he threw open the door and staggered out into the clearing.
She scrambled to catch him, but he’d slammed through the screen door into the kitchen before she was even halfway across the yard. Tears burned her eyes and she couldn’t get her breath. Turning away, she wrapped her arms around herself and fought for control before she went inside. She didn’t want Gabe and Helene to see her like this. If Monty and Helene knew that she and Bobby were struggling, they’d pressure her to quit her job. Exhausted as she was, she didn’t know if she could resist. But exhaustion was only temporary. The shame of accepting handouts lasted a whole lot longer.
Behind her, the screen door closed quietly, and she turned, hoping that Bobby had come back outside. Instead, she found Gabe watching her from the shaded porch, his eyes narrowed, his expression kind. He jerked his head toward the house and stepped off the porch. “What’s wrong with Bobby?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
Gabe shook his head and closed the distance between them. “He didn’t have time. He just went flying through the kitchen and upstairs to Peter’s old room.”
The stress of the past few weeks must be getting to her, because she couldn’t seem to stop the trembling of her hands. Nor could she stop herself from responding to the worry in his eyes. She didn’t want him to worry about her.
Clasping her hands together tightly, she tried to smile. “Maybe you should go talk to him.”
“Mom’s doing that. I came to see if you were okay.”
She should have known she wouldn’t be able to keep Helene from finding out. The urge to fling herself into Gabe’s arms hit Siddah sharply. Probably because he was too close. Invading her personal space. Looking calm and reasonable and concerned.
She pulled away to put some distance between them. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Bobby’s upset. You’re standing in the yard crying. Let’s just call it a hunch.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips, but his sense of humor only made him more attractive, not less. For safety’s sake, Siddah took another step away. “I’m not crying. Not really. I’m just frustrated. Tired. Overwhelmed. And you’re not helping.”
“Me? What have I done?”
Unbidden, Bobby’s last accusation raced through her mind. No fun. Was Gabe right? Had she locked herself in the moment of Peter’s death? Was she letting life pass her by? Without warning, the urge to smile and laugh, to wake in the morning filled with anticipation instead of dread rose up within her.
“It’s not you,” she admitted with a sigh. “It’s me. H
e tells me I’m no fun anymore.”
“Ouch.”
She laughed softly. “Yeah. Ouch. You, on the other hand, are all kinds of fun.”
“Do you want me to stop? Turn into some kind of jerk?”
She laughed again and shook her head. “No, of course not. Bobby wants me to quit working and stay home with him. I guess so I can take him to secret fishing holes and teach him how to split firewood. But that’s just not going to happen. It can’t.”
“So you have to work,” Gabe said with a shrug. “That doesn’t mean you can’t still have fun with him.”
“Right now it does. The only way I can get this promotion is by putting in long hours. That doesn’t leave a lot of time for fun.”
“Maybe this isn’t the best time to go after the promotion.”
The muscles in Siddah’s neck tightened. “I know you mean well,” she said, “but you just don’t understand. The world is filled with families who are barely getting by on two incomes. We’re living on one. I have to get that promotion. It’s the only way we’re going to survive.”
The confession surprised her as much as it seemed to surprise him. “That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?”
She could have kicked herself for admitting so much aloud, but Bobby’s accusations had unsettled her and the urge to unburden herself was too strong to resist. “The situation is drastic,” she said. “I’m in debt up to my eyeballs. Unless we find a miracle, we’ll be lucky to hang on to the house.”
Gabe glanced back at the house and lowered his voice. “Do Mom and Dad know about this?”
Siddah shook her head firmly. “No, and I don’t want them to. They’re so kind. So generous. But I can’t let them support us.”
“They wouldn’t see it as a burden,” Gabe said gently. “You’re family.”
“I won’t let Bobby grow up feeling like a charity case.”
“That’s better than letting him end up homeless, isn’t it? Do you mind me asking where this debt comes from?”
Siddah hesitated, but she’d gone this far already and sharing the worry with someone else actually made her feel a little better. “Peter took out some loans before he died, but your parents don’t know, and I don’t want them to.”
