Steve didn’t know if he could bear it if it started up here as well. He sank to the floor, his fists pressing against his throbbing temples and stared as a glop of mashed potatoes slithered off the counter and splattered messily onto the floor in front of him. He laughed, guessing that he had just made matters worse. There was no sane way to explain mashed potatoes on the cabinets and a broken dish. He sighed and fought down a wave of nausea. Maybe he was crazy... He supposed he should try to clean up the mess, but he couldn’t seem to move. Maybe if he just sat here a few minutes.....
When he woke up, sunlight filtered through the small window over the sink and Deborah was busily scrubbing his kitchen countertops. Pete was gently shaking his arm. The room smelled of hot bacon, eggs and toast.
Pete’s voice, filled with concern, called his name. Finally, Steve blinked his eyes open. He tried to sit up, but Pete stopped him. “You must have slipped and fallen last night,” Pete explained. “Don’t move quickly. Do you think you hit your head again?”
Slipped? Steve blinked, chagrinned that once more he was being rescued by the very friends that he most wanted to avoid. He felt confused. Why did they keep coming back? Why did they keep trying to get closer, when he so clearly had tried to drive them away?
And now this! Pete said he must have slipped. No more explanation needed. He took a deep breath, accepting that these two were not about to allow Steve to cut them out of his life for now, so why keep fighting it?
“I’m okay,” he said at last. “Help me up.”
Pete took his arm and helped him back to the couch as if he were truly an invalid, and for the moment, Steve supposed he was. When Deb placed the hot plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, he forced himself to flash her a weak smile of thanks.
The meal was good, and suddenly Steve was ravenous. Pete and Deb ate with him, their voices soft in deference to his aching head. At last, Steve put his plate down and sighed in contentment.
He looked from Deborah to Pete, wanting to say something, but too embarrassed to bring the subject up. At last he plunged in. “About the stuff that happened in the emergency room,” he began hesitantly. He looked from one person to the other. Pete and Deborah sat quietly, waiting for him to finish his thought. Deborah seemed to smile in encouragement.
Steve cleared his throat. “I know that I was acting pretty bizarre for awhile. I just want to apologize. I guess you two have some good stories to share now -”
Pete sat forward with a frown on his face. “Wait a minute. Is that what this has been about?” He asked. “Steve, what happened is no one’s business but your own. Deborah explained a little of what happened to me, but I hope you know that we would never talk about it to anyone else.”
Steve sat in stunned silence for a moment. “I – did worry,” he admitted. “Last time, well, the gossip never stopped. To deal with that again…” Steve shook his head, his eyes haunted.
Deborah stood up. She wasn’t smiling any more. “Steve, I think you can see that Pete and I are trying to be your friend, even though you are not making it very easy. I do have some idea what losing Sarah and David did to you, and I can understand that you feel that you have a reason for believing that friends can't be trusted. Pete and I will keep your secrets, because we know how badly you were hurt then.” She paused a moment, then added. “But what happened at the hospital shows that you are still hurt. Running away didn’t make it go away. Someday, you will have to deal with what happened.”
Steve greeted her speech with stony silence. He didn’t particularly like being lectured, and there was enough truth in her words to make him uncomfortable.
When he didn’t answer, Deborah began clearing away the plates, carefully not looking at him. She went to the kitchen and quickly washed up. Plates and cups clanked noisily as she voiced her frustration through her task. Pete remained sitting across from Steve, his head bowed. Eventually he looked up and caught Steve’s sullen eyes. He gave Steve a sad half smile. “Give it up, man. She likes you – a lot. No way are you going to out stubborn her.”
Deborah walked back into the room and glared at Pete. “Time to go or we will be late for work.” Pete nodded. He stood up and headed for the door.
Deborah turned to Steve at last. “Chuck said he was bringing you a pizza for lunch. We will be back around six with dinner. You like Chinese?” Her green eyes dared him to say no.
Nonplussed, Steve nodded slowly.
Deborah allowed herself to relax slightly, and rewarded him with a smile. “See you tonight then.”
Steve managed a faint “Thanks,” as she pulled the door shut behind her. He stared at the door for some time. What had he gotten himself into?
Ch 7
New Job Description
Events Coordinator. Steve ground his teeth and sighed. It had been two weeks since he had smashed his head on the rocks, and he was being allowed back on light duty only. That meant mostly manning the park’s information center, or working concessions and bath house. In his opinion, it was hardly worth getting out of bed for!
The most insipid assignment of all was Events Coordinator. Arranging for various programs, setting up, attending, teaching programs, and finally, assessing the success of each program offered. Programs on indigenous snakes and reptiles, owl walks, plant studies, rappelling 101, history of the Sauroton Mountain range, as well as pottery, woodcarving, local music and the occasional preacher, were all under his purview. Steve sighed. This would be a long, long, summer.
He checked his watch with an even longer sigh. Time to go greet the new Camp Host and Hostess. Each year a couple set up in the first site coming into the camp ground and assisted the campers when the rangers were not available. The couple who had worked at Hanging Rock the last three summers had left after only three weeks, due to the premature birth of their first grandchild. The new couple should be arriving momentarily. Steve would help them set up their RV, if necessary, and take them on a tour of the camp sites, lake, and Visitor’s Center.
Steve slouched out of the Visitor’s Center and climbed into the truck. He crossed the road that led to the lake, drove slowly up the hill to the campsites, and braked in surprise. The new couple appeared to have already arrived! At the top of the circle, a huge RV was already backed into place at the Host site, and an older woman was busy straightening the support poles for the awning. A couple of red geraniums in painted pots bloomed by the door as if they had been there all summer. The picnic table was spread with a red gingham table cloth, and another potted red geranium sprouted jauntily in the center of the table.
Steve studied the woman as he pulled up. She appeared to be in her early fifties, with shoulder length hair pulled back at the nape of her neck with a green ribbon. Once it had been a fiery red, but now it was liberally shot with gray strands. It wasn’t until she bent over and lifted a large box that Steve remembered himself. He hastily pushed open the truck door and hurried up to her.
“Here, I’ll take that,” he said firmly, reaching for the box. The woman looked up at him from vivid green eyes and smiled a smile that was disconcertingly familiar.
“I’m Steve Williams, the Events Coordinator,” he introduced himself as he hefted the surprisingly heavy box. “I’ll be your liaison this summer.” He plopped the box down on the table and turned back to shake her hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you when you arrived. You weren’t expected until after 9:00.”
The woman’s hand was firm and strong as she gripped his. Her smile was warm and welcoming.
“Hester Graham, Steve. A pleasure to finally meet you after all these years! And no matter about not being here to welcome us,” she added. “We slipped in early to see our daughter. She’s been helping us set up.”
Steve frowned in confusion. “after all these years?” What could she possibly mean? And what daughter?
Mrs. Graham tilted her head at his obvious confusion and put her hands on her hips. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”
“W-who?”
>
Mrs. Graham shook her head. “Deborah, of course. The brat! Well, perhaps she meant to keep her relationship to us a deep dark secret. Having your parents hosting at your place of employment is probably rather embarrassing…”
On cue, Deborah stepped out of the door carrying strings of lights, shaped like little sombreros and chili peppers. “Steve!” She smiled happily at him, and suddenly Steve knew why Hester Graham’s eyes and smile had felt so familiar. Deborah was merely a younger version of her mother.
Deb handed Steve a section of the light strings, and motioned with her head to start hanging the strand around the awning that her mother had just finished setting up. Steve shook his head to clear his momentary surprise. Looking up, he spotted the neatly spaced Velcro hooks on his side, and began stretching the lights from hook to hook.
“I heard you, mother, and no, I am not ashamed or embarrassed to have you and Daddy here,” Deborah said over her shoulder. “I just have not seen much of Steve since he went back to work this week.” Deborah examined Steve’s handiwork and shook her head. “Not so tight,” she directed him. “Loop them like this,” she said, pointing to her own section.
“He’s pretty much stuck at the Visitor’s Center, these days, and I don’t get over there much,” she added, resuming the conversation now that Steve was trained on the proper hanging of party lights.
“Stuck is right,” Steve muttered. “They won’t let me do much of anything since I hit my head. I’m surprised they didn’t just stand me up as mannequin in one of the display scenes in the Interpretive Museum. Then I’d be even further protected with a Plexiglas wall!”
“Sounds like you’re a little bit impatient with the recovery process,” Mrs. Graham said, with an understanding smile.
Steve blushed, realizing that he had been complaining in front of Deborah’s mother. “So, where is your husband, Mrs. Graham?” He asked to change the subject. “Surely he didn’t leave you to set up camp alone?”
Mrs. Graham’s eyes twinkled and she put a finger to her lips. “Shhhh,” she admonished. He always muddles my lights and breaks the flower pots. I deliberately forgot the ice and sent him back to town for it. I expect he will be back in a few minutes.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him and to showing the two of you around the camp grounds,” Steve said conversationally.
Mrs. Graham studied him for a few moments with a growing look of concern. “You don’t know who he is either, do you?” She said softly.
Steve glanced back at the picnic table where she sat, and shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He looked from Mrs. Graham, to Deborah, who now stood staring at him with a stricken look on her face. He frowned. “What is it?” He asked, foreboding growing in his mind suddenly.
Deborah took a deep breath. “My father is Reverend Robert Graham,” she said quickly. “He was the pastor that counseled you right after the accident.”
Steve felt himself grow pale. He took a deep breath and willed his hands not to shake. Deborah was watching him as if she expected him to fall apart, like he had at the hospital.
“I saw the name,” he replied at last, “but I never made the connection.” He deliberately hooked on the next section of lights, turning his back to the women. “I take it that he has retired, then?” He said over his shoulder.
“Semi-retired.” Mrs. Graham said matter-of-factly. “Robert still preaches at his church part time but he has an associate pastor who has taken over many of the duties. That’s how we can get away for a whole summer. Robert was quite pleased when Deborah told us that you were here. He has been looking forward to seeing you again, Steve.”
Steve smiled woodenly. “Really? I wasn’t very pleasant company back then. I would have thought that he would be dreading the reunion.”
Mrs. Graham smiled that understanding smile again. Steve ground his teeth.
“On the contrary! He has often wondered what became of you. I know he will be pleased to see what a pleasant young man you have turned out to be.”
“That’s most kind of you,” Steve managed, trying to ignore the flickers of agitation that were clamping around his chest. First Deborah, and how her father! Instead of escaping from his past, he suddenly felt cornered by it. Even the concussion and the insane incident at the hospital – all he needed now was for David and the Bolton family to pull up at a campsite and start roasting marshmallows! Again he ground his teeth unconsciously. It was all too crazy! Already he felt the stirrings of a headache, and it wasn’t even 10:00 in the morning. This would be an endless day, and possibly, he reflected glumly, an endless summer.
Ch 08
Facing Old Memories
“Well, that about covers it,” Steve concluded as he parked his truck in front of the Graham’s campsite. Hester Graham was at the grill, flipping hamburgers. Steve saw a pint of potato salad on the picnic table, as well as a jug of sweet tea and a freshly sliced cantaloupe, carefully covered with plastic to keep the flies off. She waved and turned her attention back to the burgers.
Reverend Graham sat beside Steve in the truck. They had just toured the park, walking down the gravel path to view the rocky waterfall of the Lower Cascades, strolling through the interpretive scenes at the Visitor’s Center, staring up at the rock that had given the park its name, and even wading out into the chilly water of the lake.
Steve had introduced Reverend Graham to several of the rangers that were on duty. The lanky, white-haired pastor had already begun developing a rapport with the staff, with his quick smile and warm handshake. Unlike Steve, Reverend Graham never seemed to be at a loss for words once introductions had been made. Thus, the ‘short tour’ had stretched to nearly two hours. Steve had learned things about his fellow rangers in mere minutes that he had never had thought to ask, even though he had worked with some of them for several years. With the required tour finished at last, Steve was looking forward to dropping the pastor off and retreating to his office. But Reverend Graham remained in the passenger seat.
“Yep,” Reverend Graham agreed, stretching his arms over his head. “You have a beautiful park here. I can’t wait to go skinny dipping with Hester tomorrow morning. I bet the sunrise from the pond is spectacular.” He sighed in a tone so full of anticipation, that Steve could not stop himself from turning toward the older man and staring at him to see if he was actually serious. Reverend Graham met the Steve’s incredulous gaze and held it – for about two seconds. Then his serious dark eyes exploded into a merry twinkle.
“Gotcha!” he said, grinning at Steve’s confusion, then his face sobered again. “That was the first time you have looked me full in the face in the whole two hours we have been together,” he said gently. “We’ve got a lot of summer ahead of us to be tiptoeing around something that happened over five years ago. I understand your discomfort, Steve, but I hope that we can move beyond those days. If not,” he added watching Steve closely, “we are in for a long miserable summer.”
Steve flushed with embarrassment. It had always disconcerted him, the way the man had of reading his thoughts, and putting them into words. After a minute Steve sighed and pointedly looked Reverend Graham in the face. It amazed him how little the man had changed in the last five years, while Steve felt he himself had aged at least fifty.
“You are right, of course, sir. I didn’t mean to be rude.” He winced inwardly at how stilted the words sounded.
Reverend Graham placed a fatherly hand on Steve’s shoulder, ignoring the automatic stiffening under his touch. “Don’t apologize. To tell the truth, if you hadn’t felt a little uncomfortable, I’d have been a lot more concerned. That was a difficult time for you and I’m a direct reminder of all that pain. What you are feeling is a normal reaction. I just hope you and I can work together, despite it all.”
Steve pursed his lips and looked out the window at the campsites. His mind ached as he recalled the long hours that Reverend Graham had spent with him. In response to the paramedic’s call, he had been waiting at the hospital w
hen the ambulance brought them in, and he had stepped between him and David when his best friend had attacked him outside of Sarah’s room. How many hours had he sat with Steve, listening to him pour out his guilt and remorse?
Still looking out the window, Steve spoke in a low, hesitant voice. “You were a big help to me back then. I probably never seemed it, but I did appreciate all you tried to do – to talk with David and his family and all...” Steve’s voice trailed off.
Reverend Graham allowed the silence to continue for a moment as he studied Steve’s averted face. “I’m sorry they never came around. I think shunning you has hurt them far more than it has you,” he said seriously. Then he smiled. “I’m just pleased to see you haven’t let it ruin your life. You’ve gone on to do something good here. I am proud of you.
“But now,” he said, pushing open the door, “we have loved ones waiting and hamburgers frying on the grill. I’m starved!” He turned back and grinned conspiratorially at Steve. “I am particularly thankful for this summer – Hester had to leave that George Foreman grill at home for once!”
Steve grinned back, but then turned the ignition key as the pastor slammed the passenger door. The growl of the engine seemed to startle Reverend Graham, and he turned back to Steve, leaning in the window. “Hester’s cooked enough for three campsites, as usual. Won’t you stay for lunch?”
Steve shook his head. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish, but thanks just the same. You have my cell phone number, if you need anything, right?”
Robert Graham studied him for a moment before stepping back from the truck. He didn’t buy the paperwork excuse, Steve knew, but he didn’t push the invitation. “Tomorrow then, thanks for the tour.”
Far Country Page 5
