by R. T. Wolfe
The bond between Andy and his uncle could only compete with that of his connection with Nathan's wife. Brie's warmth and acute ability to read people saved both Andy and Duncan when they moved to Northridge with Nathan. Their uncle had given up everything, Andy remembered, as he watched him help his twin boys throw sticks at the fire. His young cousins jumped each time flames caught the dry twigs with small explosions of color and heat. He was thankful Nathan had moved him and Duncan to Northridge, near their grandparents, for help with raising them. After a time, he and Duncan came to think of Nathan and Brie as their parents and addressed them as such. Andy sighed and smiled.
He and Rose's little sisters used sticky fingers to maneuver marshmallows on wooden pokers before propping them over the fire, sometimes in the fire. Carefully, they centered chocolate squares on graham crackers as his aunt and brother sat on plastic folding chairs with their heads together, looking at Duncan's sketch pad.
On the opposite side of the campsite, he noticed Rose's mom as she sat on a blanket of her own, looking as white as a ghost. Dark rings dug beneath her usually bright eyes. She was sitting on the ground, leaning back against Mr. Nolan's legs. They sat in silence as he rubbed her neck and shoulders.
As the sky darkened further, Andy lay back with Rose, watching as more stars awakened between the soaring trees. They listened to the happy sound of neighboring families through the rustle of leaves.
"A puppy," Rose blurted out. Lying in her usual ponytail, jeans and sneakers, her full cheeks were rosy from the chill of the evening.
Andy recognized her wish on the first star she saw. "You've been trying to get your mom to get you a puppy since you were seven."
"First star I see tonight. I can wish it, can't I? Falling star." She slugged him in the arm.
"You can't slug bug a fallen star. Double backs."
"Chicken. And don't you tell me what I can't do." She crossed her arms and glanced at him through the corner of her eyes. "Thanks, by the way."
"For what?"
"Helping me get through great-granddad's funeral." She turned her head to face him, brows scrunched closely together. She leaned closer and whispered, "If you laugh, I'll kick your ass."
He shrugged. "I won't. You're welcome."
Rose looked at him and thought about that rainy day. Something she didn't quite recognize stirred inside her heart.
The evening was what it promised to be, cool and damp. A propane stove cooked sloppy joes and macaroni and cheese. Her mom had spent weeks and months, before Rose was born, in third world countries working with FEMA and the Red Cross at disaster sites. The propane stove would have been a luxury then. Her mom said using it was cheating but had no problem wolfing down two sandwiches and a small mountain of mac-n-cheese.
The smell of the outdoors mixed with the aroma of dinner and campfire turned out to be therapy for everyone. She listened as the parents planned a next-day hike through the trails, followed by throwing Frisbees and baseballs, then a trip to the small Seneca Park Zoo in Rochester.
Great-granddad would have been pleased, she knew.
* * *
Rose's younger sister stood in line with Andy's cousins. Each stuck the toes of their shoes through the spaces in the chain-link fence surrounding a polar bear exhibit, straining to get a better look. They giggled in chorus as the pair of large, white beasts took turns diving at a metal barrel in their pond.
The adults stood next to the Galapagos Tortoises, turning every so often to check on everyone while taking in the gentle nature of the enormous creatures. Rose thought about how each gravitated toward the animal that best fit their mood.
As the only teenager in the group, Duncan was leaning on one foot with a shoulder up against the fence of the polar bear habitat. Rose recognized it as a too-cool-for-the-zoo stance. She watched as Andy slithered up to him and sensed he was about to bait his stuffy brother.
"They swim as well as you do, Dunc." Andy strutted, nodding his head toward the polar bears that looked deceivingly clumsy as they floundered in the water. When Duncan went to shove at the side of his head, Andy quickly ducked and slipped out of reach. Duncan must not have been too cool to resist chasing Andy; they dodged spectators and earned sneers from the nearly missed adults.
She knew the real reason they were on this trip. Her great-granddad had been killed. An attempted burglary gone wrong, the police had said. The only father figure her mom had ever known was dead.
Andy's uncle had helped Dave change the locks and install an alarm system. That helped. Mr. Reed was always good with that kind of thing. Rose saw him give Mrs. Reed's butt a couple of pats when he thought no one was looking. It was kind of sweet.
Dave and her mom stood in the sunlight. He rested his large hand on the small of her mom's back. Rose watched as she closed her eyes and let the side of her head drop to his chest. Rose realized at that moment Dave had kept her within arm's reach since the day her grandfather was killed—was murdered.
Rose did love the zoo. Animals were simple. They knew how to love, how to protect their families. She was in her own kind of habitat here, which was likely another part of why they made the trip. She'd worked her mom mercilessly about getting a pet, but so far had to settle with an occasional frog or temporary turtle she could catch from the creek. They caught a birds of prey show, and she made no attempt to leash her excitement.
Andy sat next to her and rubbed his arm where she had hit him with the back of her hand over and over again.
She was on the edge of her seat. Literally.
"Sit down or they're gonna kick us out of here," he said.
"My wish," she responded. The zookeeper gave a command, and a red-tailed hawk spread his wings, lifted gracefully from her gloved hand and flew to a nearby oak tree.
Andy kept rubbing his arm. "What?" he asked as the woman recited facts that were of more interest to a group of younger children while she used hand signals to cue the bird. Genius. It swooped back down, gliding low over the heads of the ducking spectators and landed gracefully on the zookeeper's outstretched arm. Gladly, it gobbled down the treat its handler offered.
Rose clapped neurotically. "That's my wish; what I want to do. To be."
"You want to be a bird lady?"
She elbowed him in the ribs. "That and I want a hundred puppies."
The zookeeper lifted her arm to signal the bird to expand its nearly three-foot wings.
"Well, I'm going to build. My uncle says I can live with him in the summers in the city when I get older, and he's going to show me how he builds buildings."
Rose turned her head, almost in slow motion, and faced him. Her eyes drifted from one side of him to the other before focusing on his face. After a few unsettling moments, she turned back toward the show, but couldn't find it in her to watch any longer.
Chapter3
EIGHT YEARS LATER...
The plane ride was short and had given Andy time to gear up for a weekend away. His freshman year at Purdue U. College was a blast, but he could definitely use a weekend filled with a bigger bedroom, decent food and neighbors that didn't crank their bass until three in the morning. Before he had to buckle down for finals, he wanted to see his best friend and give his latest Mustang a test drive. Duncan was right when he said it was ready to go and purring like a cat, although Duncan didn't like people to know he could work on cars. His brother preferred to keep his sophisticated, right-brained artist image as fine-tuned as his engines.
Andy cranked The Boss and thought of the look on Rose's face when he showed up. She was terrible at keeping in touch, but so was he. He knew her well enough to know she rarely had down time. Working part time for the landscaping business their parents shared left just enough time for her to volunteer at the zoo, while applying for every scholarship she could get her hands on. He would have to pull her away from it all, even if it meant over his shoulder.
* * *
Rose hefted a load of brick edgers around to the back of the spec house. Her mom
sat on her heels with her boney knees resting on a pad. She was working on securing landscaping fabric and steadied her hands as she worked the spikes into the black cloth.
The air was chilled but not enough to keep beads of sweat from dripping under Rose's sweatshirt and down her back. As she hauled and stacked, she thought of the black belt test she had the next morning and felt the butterflies in her stomach return. Her small size would make the boards difficult to break. She'd learned to use the momentum of her ninety-five pounds for just that purpose, but still. For whatever reason, this was important to her mom, and Rose rationalized that if she'd gone this far, she might as well finish and go for the black.
At the sound of Jimi Hendrix roaring over an ostentatious rumble from the engine of a sports car, she sprinted for the front of the construction site. She smiled wildly as she ran. If he knew her reaction to the sound of his approach, Andy would never let her live it down. He parked at the curb and got out.
"You came!" She skidded to a stop, then awkwardly hugged him. His shoulders felt bigger, if that were possible, even though his cheeks were thinner and covered with a layer of stubble. When did he get stubble? Andy looked different. He'd buzzed his caramel brown hair, losing the waves. Pulling back, she noticed that through the sharpened features, his eyes were comfortably just as she remembered. The soft brown carried a lifetime of shared memories, erasing the months apart.
He pulled her toward him, effortlessly lifting her off her feet and into a bear hug.
A rush of electricity flowed through her.
"Of course I did. Haven't missed a promotion yet, have I?" he said.
"I... thought college boys went to Florida for spring break."
He slid her down and stepped back. "They do. But this one is watching his best friend become a bitching black belt. As if you ever needed a belt to make you scary. And Regionals are this weekend. I'll hit the game and see Candi cheer her last time."
While digging one hand into the pocket of her jeans, she bit the already short nails on the other. "I may puke."
Andy sighed. "Are you going start on that already?"
"No, of course not." Grow up, Rose, she chided herself. It's none of your business who he dates.
He had on his time-honored faded blue jeans and scuffed boots with a long sleeved, classy brown collared shirt. So Andy. Expensive sunglasses rested backward on his head. She wondered if her heart would ever beat normally when they were together.
She wore sneakers and a sweatshirt.
"I'm just glad you're here," she said to him. "I feel better already. Come around and say hello to mom. She'll want to see you, too."
As they sauntered toward the back, Andy took her hand and tucked it through his arm. He set his on top. It felt rough and warm.
She glanced behind them. "New car?" she asked.
A smile as big as Texas spread across his face. "New for me," he all but hummed. "Like it?"
"Sure." She shrugged. "Your cars all sound the same. I thought college students were also starving."
"It's used and that's not cheap, either." He nodded over toward her F-150. "You're not even in college yet. Why don't you come with me to the game?" His eyes narrowed and he dipped his face closer to her. "Have you been to a single one since I left?"
"I don't have to go. I'm not sleeping with any of the cheerleaders."
Andy stopped walking and blinked rapidly.
"Fast forward past the girl-on-girl fantasy, pal." She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. "And why would I go when you're not playing? I don't even like basketball."
Andy shook his head, then rolled his eyes dramatically before answering. "You're a senior. It's Regionals."
"She doesn't want me there." Slowly, she lifted her eyes to him.
"She doesn't care," he said. It sounded sort of like a question. "Come on. Be a team player."
She took a deep breath through her nose and blew it out, letting her cheeks expand. "What day? What time?"
"You're a senior," he repeated as he shook his head again. "You should to know this."
"Andy," she pointed out playfully, "I thought you would have figured out by now not to tell me what I'm supposed to know."
She grinned at the thought of the first time he told her what she was supposed to know. At five years old, she had been stacking his toy Duplos in a single stick. He thought it was wrong, of course, and tried to show her what she was supposed to do with them. Her grin turned into a full smile as she remembered closed-fisting him in the nose, and the bloody mess that followed.
* * *
Amanda watched as Rose waited in the front room for the sound of Andy's Mustang. "Is that what you're wearing?" she tried to ask gently.
Rose was biting her nails, then looked at her wristwatch for the third time. "I refuse to wear that phony girly crap."
She tapped the top of her daughter's head. It was wrapped in a bandana.
Sighing, Rose yanked it off and pulled out the rubber band. Gathering the mass of dark strawberry blond around the side of her neck, she started braiding. Rose glared at Amanda like only her Rose could do. "Not a word."
Amanda made the motion of zipping her lips and walked back into their conservative kitchen. She heard the rumble of the car, the car door and then the bell.
She could hear murmurs, some laughter. Then, they came in to say good-bye. Amanda turned, trying not to look anxious, and spotted the small bouquet of flowers. White daisies. "Oh, Andy." She dipped her head. "You're a smooth one."
"Only the best for my favorite detective's wife. I'll have Rose home on time."
Amanda touched his arm before reaching for the cabinet that held the vases.
When she heard the door shut, she paused before clipping the stems of the flowers. Letting out a contented sigh for her daughter, she decided to choose a cigarette from her purse instead of the valium she'd been thinking about all afternoon.
* * *
As they drove with the top down and Zeppelin jamming from the speakers, Rose sensed Andy's gaze turn momentarily.
"This is new," he said as he flicked her braid.
Even though it was a platonic gesture, she was acutely aware where his hand had brushed her shoulder. Sighing, she warned him. "If you laugh—"
"Yeah, yeah. You'll kick my ass. When the hell did it get so long?"
"It's always been this long. I just don't wear it down. Is it too long?" She couldn't believe she'd just asked that.
Teeth gleaming, he smiled at her. "No, no. Just saying."
By the time they reached the parking lot, she'd forgotten about any leftover tension. Andy told her of the apartment he was getting for his sophomore year. She spoke of her work at the zoo and about the landscaping business their parents co-owned. They slipped into their easy way, and it felt right as rain.
She convinced herself high school politics were just that, high school politics. She would much rather spend time with Andy, fishing in the lake that overflowed into Black Creek, but if he could endure her dozens of martial arts promotions, she would do this for him.
She thought about how this must be awkward for him, too. The college kid coming to see his high school cheerleader girlfriend. Then, she thought of how Candi would feel about it. Ugh. Hot, college boy coming to watch her shake her boobs. Great, she thought sarcastically, as she recognized that she'd just thought of her best friend as hot. He was, though. Not that she was supposed to know. He had the strength of a linebacker, but he was fast and could handle a basketball. That's what everyone said.
The bleachers were just as she remembered—spectators crammed shoulder to shoulder with the aroma of popcorn wafting around them. She vowed not to use the bathroom since getting to her seat was a conspicuous venture that involved walking horizontally along the middle of the aluminum bleachers in order to reach any of the staggered access stairs. She had to admit the energy and unity stirred by the cheering crowd could be considered somewhat contagious. Maybe.
She forced herself to
be pleasant and gestured to Andy's folks. It wasn't uncommon for them to come to the high school games. After so many years of working at the elementary school, many of the players once had Andy's aunt as their first-grade teacher. They exchanged polite nods of greeting before they sat to watch.
She had to lean into Andy and yell if she wanted him to hear her over the crowd. He smelled like a mixture of new car and guy soap. When her head cleared, she asked, "How come you never went out for college ball?"
"Too short. Quick only goes so far." He shrugged and picked a piece of popcorn from her hair. "Are you sure about NYU?"
"It has a good school of biology and it's in-state. So, that'll help with tuition. I've been really lucky with academic scholarships, but they don't all carry over all four years. I've got it mapped out but I'm trying to have options in case I hit a road block. If I work as a graduate assistant and do some research, I should be able to afford it. And... I'm rambling."
"I like it when you ramble. I should do the boyfriend thing, though. Can I get you something?"
She shook her head.
The game was nearing tip-off. Andy made his way down the side stairs to the edge of the gym floor. He hadn't anticipated feeling so out of place.
Nothing had changed, really. His old teammates were there, of course, and his coach. It was good to see them. But high school seemed long ago and, well, forgotten. Forgotten, at least, until he came within ear shot of Candi.
She was arguing with the girl who cheered next to her.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and walked in front of the bleachers.
