Season of Change

by Lisa Williams Kline

  “So, I’ll be home later tonight. Will you still be at the house when I get back?”

  “No, Daddy and Lynn are going to pick me up this afternoon.”

  Mama hesitated. “Well, all right. I understand. I’ll miss seeing you tonight!”

  “Me, too. And we have to talk … next week when I see you.”

  I hung up. I watched the baby geese, thinking about how hard they’d had to work to crack out of those shells.

  23

  DIANA

  Stephanie and I were packed and ready to go, hanging out on the dock with Grandma and Grandpa, waiting for Mom and Norm. Stephanie had been quiet since she talked to her mom, but I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about it.

  Grandpa’s arm was around Grandma, and we were watching the baby geese.

  “Look at them jockeying for position,” Grandma said.

  The goslings jostled the mother and each other as they tumbled around the nest. The warmth of the afternoon sun made me feel so lazy that when one of the goslings climbed over the feathery curve of the nest and waddled around on the boat cover, I didn’t move from where I was stretched out on the dock. I watched sleepily as the gosling toddled over to the edge of the cover, took one more step, and blip! It fell over the side, landing in the water between the boat and the slip.

  “Oh, no!” I yelled, jumping to my feet.

  The father goose immediately swam over and began to honk. The mother waddled to the edge of the boat cover and peered down, calling out.

  “Good night, Miss Agnes!” said Grandpa, getting up.

  I raced over and lay down on the warm boards, peering at the shifting water next to the boat. Wavelets lapped at the boat’s sides, and at first I couldn’t even see the gosling, but when I leaned over farther I saw it flailing. Starting to float to the shadowed water under the dock.

  Everyone had crowded beside the boat next to me, trying to see.

  “Can you see it? Can you reach it?” Grandma called.

  I stretched my fingertips as far as I could, but the baby had floated too far for me to reach. I scrambled over the edge, feet-first, chest-deep in the water, and swam one stroke over to the struggling gosling. Water streamed off its fluffy little head as I scooped my hands underneath it and swept it onto the dock. It immediately shook itself off, frantically cheeping.

  “You got it, you got it!” Grandma’s voice was filled with relief.

  Grandpa leaned down and picked it up. “Okay, little guy, we gotcha. Good save there, Diana!”

  I waded over to the steps and Grandma handed me a towel, which I wrapped around me, wet clothes and all.

  “I think we better move these goslings so more don’t fall off.” Grandpa carried the gosling down the length of the dock and set it gently in the grass, where it waddled in a circle, cheeping. “Who wants to help me move these little guys?”

  “Oh, I want to!” I said, dropping my towel.

  “Okay, let’s get to work. Watch out for Mama and Papa.”

  But, for whatever reason, the mother and father did not protest us picking up the babies. When we approached the boat cover, the mother cocked her head at us but wasn’t aggressive. The father flapped his wings, but did not come any closer. Grandpa talked to them in a soothing way, then carefully picked up two more babies that had wandered near the edge of the boat cover, and strode with them to the end of the dock and placed them in the grass.

  Being careful not to get close to the mother, I picked up two more babies.

  “Oh, they’re so soft!” I followed Grandpa as they squirmed and cheeped in my hands. Kneeling in the grass, I gently put them down. Grandma came right behind me, with two more, and set them down carefully.

  Stephanie ventured near the nest, but when the mother cocked her head and fixed her beady eyes on her, she hesitated. I went back and, over the mother’s protestations, cradled that last one as I walked down the dock, and placed it in the grass next to its brothers and sisters.

  “Now,” said Grandpa, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve got to hope the mother comes to join them.”

  The goslings toddled around in the grass in aimless circles, and their cheeping grew louder.

  “Go on over there now, Mama,” Grandma said. “Maybe we shouldn’t stand so close.”

  We walked a short distance away from the babies and stood in the yard, watching and waiting. She stood anxiously on the nest, stretching her neck in the direction of her babies, and calling to them. We thought she would never go to them.

  “Come on, Mama. Come get your babies,” I said.

  “Soon as she moves, maybe I’ll move the nest to a safer spot,” Grandpa said.

  We stood and waited, holding our breath.

  A car’s engine sounded from the driveway.

  “Mom and Norm are here,” I said. I met Stephanie’s eyes, and we didn’t have to say a thing, because I knew what she was thinking. Leaving the babies, we headed up to the house.

  “We’re back!” Mom called, as she climbed, stretching, from the driver’s seat. I quickly searched her face.

  Norm got out of the passenger seat and shut the door.

  “Hello, hello!” Grandpa said, raising both arms in greeting. “How was it?

  “Fine,” Norm said noncommittally. Stephanie stood by the porch, watching him.

  I knew just how she felt. Could I figure out by the way Mom’s face looked, by the way she moved, by the way she looked at us, and at Norm, how things had gone? I watched them both.

  “Stephanie?” Norm said. “Lynn told me last night you were with your mother. But now you’re back here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come on in,” Grandma said quickly. “Are you hungry? I can fix you some soup.”

  “No, no, we’ll eat at home,” Mom said. She looked at me. “Diana, why are your clothes all wet?”

  “I had to save a gosling.”

  Everything was suddenly quiet as we trooped into the kitchen. I didn’t know what Grandpa and Grandma would say. Our stuff was on the couch, packed and ready. Would Norm put his arm around Mom? Sometimes he did that, when things were good. Put his arm around her and played with her hair. But they didn’t touch each other.

  Mom looked expectantly at Grandma and Grandpa. “So?”

  I held my breath. Then, I decided not to be a coward. I stood up straight and looked Norm right in the eye. “I took the car last night. Without asking.”

  Norm knitted his brows and Mom’s mouth dropped open. “You what?”

  “Go ahead and ground me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, then glanced at Grandpa, expecting to see a stern expression.

  Mom crossed her arms too. “Whoa, hold on, here!”

  “She was trying to help me,” Stephanie said quickly. “She came to pick me up because I was stuck at a party.”

  “How did that happen?” Norm fixed Stephanie with a stare.

  “I thought I had a ride but … I didn’t.”

  “Where was your mother?”

  “She … met Barry in Asheville.”

  Norm’s mouth dropped open. “No wonder you didn’t pick up your phone when I called,” Norm said.

  “Maybe we should sit down for this,” Grandma said.

  Grandpa put one arm around me and the other around Stephanie. “We’ve had quite a weekend. I think you should discuss this as a family. I trust the girls to tell the truth about what happened, and you two to decide what you’ll do.”

  “Let me get this straight, Stephanie,” Norm said, his voice rising. “Your mother came and picked you up … and then left you to go to Asheville to meet Barry?”

  Stephanie nodded, looking at the floor.

  Norm looked like he was ready to explode.

  Mom put her hand on Norm’s arm. “Honey, let’s talk about that later.”

  I decided it was a good time to go upstairs and change into dry clothes.

  When I got back downstairs, Norm’s face had gone back to its regular color and everyone was talking in no
rmal voices. Stephanie and I headed out to the car with our stuff.

  “Can we check on the goslings before we go?” I said. We headed down through the yard, and there we saw the mother leading the babies through the grass, single file, cheeping and waddling, with the father at the end, making sure no one was left behind.

  “They came for them!” I said.

  “Aren’t they darling?” Grandma said.

  Minutes later Stephanie and I sat in the back seat of Norm’s car and we were backing out the driveway. Norm drove and Mom held a big bag of Grandpa’s tomatoes. Grandma and Grandpa stood on the porch, waving. I had given them both an extra long hug goodbye. Grandpa had his arm around Grandma. Their white hair shone in the late afternoon sun.

  “I’ll grate the cheese,” I said to Stephanie. “You cut up the tomatoes.”

  Stephanie stood next to me at the counter with the cutting board. We’d set the table, and lined up bowls for the ingredients for fajitas. Sour cream, lettuce, taco sauce, black beans, chicken strips, and shells stood on the counter.

  “Need any help?” Mom poked her head around the corner.

  “No, no! We’re doing it, Mom. You and Norm relax!”

  Mom looked skeptical, but nodded. “Okay, then. Let me know if you change your mind!” Mom’s head disappeared as she headed back to the family room. I heard the murmur of her voice as she told Norm that we didn’t want any help.

  “The directions for cooking the chicken are on the back of the fajitas packet,” Stephanie said.

  “You read and I’ll follow them.”

  This was Stephanie’s and my plan to keep Mom and Norm together. We’d make them a nice dinner, and then we’d each make a speech telling them how much it meant to us to be a family. Our cooking abilities were pretty much limited to spaghetti and fajitas, and we’d decided on fajitas.

  Stephanie and I were both grounded for two weeks, and I lost driving privileges. Noah understood and said he’d see me when the two weeks were up. I wished there was some way I could explain things to Commanche. All he knew was that I wasn’t there. But Josie had told me his foot was almost healed, and he would certainly be ready to ride when I got back.

  It was my own fault. I got that.

  But I was still glad I had helped Stephanie when she needed it. And I’d do it again. But I’d ask Grandpa’s permission first. Now I knew he probably would have driven us himself.

  Norm and Stephanie’s mom had a huge fight on the phone. He yelled at her for leaving Stephanie, and I had to convince Stephanie not to feel guilty about telling Norm that her mom had left.

  Hunter texted Stephanie and apologized for leaving her stranded without a ride at the party. He admitted that he was trying to impress the upperclassmen. Stephanie thanked him for the apology.

  Star and Clover were both doing fine. We’d called Kirsten that afternoon. Dr. Miller had set Clover’s leg, and now she was with Kirsten. They were both drinking eagerly from the bottle, and soon Kirsten would take them to the other rehabilitator. I hoped Kirsten was right about their re-entry to the wild.

  The chicken sizzled in the pan and a spicy aroma wove around us.

  “I think it’s ready,” Stephanie said.

  “Something smells pretty good in there,” Norm called. “We’re starving!”

  “In a minute!” I yelled. We’d forgotten to warm the taco shells, and I shoved them into the toaster oven.

  Stephanie and I started carrying the bowls of ingredients to the dining room, and she arranged them so they looked pretty on the table. The red of the sauce, the green of the lettuce, and the yellow of the cheese looked pretty and appetizing.

  I put the toasted taco shells on the table, planning our conversation. I’d come right out and ask Mom and Norm about what happened on their counseling retreat. I’d ask very pointed questions about what was wrong and how they would be fixing things. I’d let them know that it was something they had to do. Because we were a family, and we wanted to stay that way.

  “Okay, everything’s ready!” I called.

  “No, no, wait!” Stephanie cried. She grabbed some matches from a kitchen drawer and, with a trembling hand, lit the candles on the table. The teardrops of light from the two candles wavered, then glowed brighter as they caught. “There!” she said. “Now we’re ready.”

  Stephanie and I went into the family room to call Mom and Norm to the table. Norm was sitting in his La-Z-Boy and Mom was snuggled on the armrest next to him. She was bending down, lightly kissing his forehead.

  Stephanie poked me and raised her eyebrows. We went back into the kitchen. Maybe we didn’t have to ask all those questions about their retreat after all. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

  That night I dreamed that Kirsten released Star and Clover into the wild, their spotted coats flickering in the morning sun. Clover’s leg was healed, straight and strong. The little fawns had a quiet grace as they walked beside Kirsten for a few yards. They stopped and gazed at her for a moment, their big ears twitching. When they bounded into the woods, a doe came forward and nosed a greeting, the herd closed protectively around them, and then they disappeared into the dappled sunlit shadows.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank my teacher, Ellen Howard, for reading and commenting on this manuscript, and for her wise and sensitive direction. Her support and encouragement have meant so very much to me.

  Thank you so much to Sandy Hagen, the wildlife rehabilitator, for allowing me to spend a magical day with her, Clover the fawn, and her other special animals. She was so generous to share her techniques and philosophies with me. And thanks to Clover, for that lick on the arm!

  Thanks to Margo Shearon for introducing me to Sandy.

  Reverend Jan Brittain of Williamson’s Chapel Methodist Church generously allowed me to use the story about the boy in the hospital, which she told during her sermon one Sunday.

  My nephew Luke Williams was my quite exuberant subject matter expect for the party and wakeboarding scenes. My brother Pat Williams offered important details as well. Thanks, guys!

  And the usual suspects: Chris Woodworth, my dear writing friend, with her incredible sensitivity and instincts; John Bonk, with his unerring sense of a good scene; Ann and Sydney Campanella, with their thoughtful, and gentle comments about character and spirituality; and Deb Waldron, for her practical suggestions and everlasting patience!

  Thanks again to Caryn Wiseman, without whom this series would never exist.

  Thanks to Kim Childress, my editor, who has been so supportive and insightful. Adding a fifth book to the series was her idea, and I loved getting the chance to write it. I always look forward to the ways in which her comments help me see each scene with new eyes.

  I’d also like to thank Candice Frederick, for giving me pep talks when I needed them.

  I appreciate all that the staff at Zondervan has done to support this series, from designing such beautiful covers to making bookmarks for me.

  My husband Jeff helped me with the veterinary scene. No one is prouder of me than he is, and I thank God for sending him to me.

  To my beloved parents and children, thanks for the inspiration for this book.

  About the Author

  LISA WILLIAMS KLINE is the author of Floods, The Princesses of Atlantis, Write Before Your Eyes, and Eleanor Hill, winner of the North Carolina Juvenile Literature Award. Her stories for children have appeared in Cricket, Cicada, Spider, and Odyssey. She earned her MFA from Queens University. Lisa lives in Mooresville, North Carolina with her veterinarian husband, where their grown daughters visit frequently. In addition to writing, Lisa has also been a tongue-tied disc jockey, a radio copywriter, a zoned-out waitress, and a disorganized but trustworthy veterinary hospital office manager. Recently she learned to drive a forklift. Now she is an editor, writer and English teacher. Lisa enjoys reading, running, watching movies, kayaking, and playing golf.

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  Other books by Lisa Williams Kline

  Sisters in All Seasons Series

  Summer of the Wolves

  Wild Horse Spring

  Blue Autumn Cruise

  Winter’s Tide

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  Season of Change

  Copyright © 2013 by Lisa Williams Kline

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