Caribbean Crossroads

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Caribbean Crossroads Page 23

by Connie E Sokol


  Bryant swung Jakey up for a hug. After a bit of small talk and details of their dad, they said good-bye.

  He opened the truck door for Megan and an enthusiastic Jakey. She noted it seemed much cleaner than it had been before. It took them a minute to get the booster seat just right, their heads awkwardly meeting in the process. Still, he didn’t look her in the eye.

  Heading for the yard, Megan knew she had to say something, seeing as she had been the one to arrive at his hometown, unannounced and uninvited.

  “Bry, I need to talk to you.” She looked down at Jakey who was driving his yellow truck across his legs.

  “Not so fast.”

  “No, not about that.” She definitely didn’t want to discuss their romantic situation, especially in front of Jakey. “It’s just that I’m not here to mess things up. I only want to help. You helped me this summer—so much—and I didn’t realize, fully, the sacrifice, especially finding out about your dad. I just wanted to make it up to you and your family.”

  From her periphery, she saw his eyes narrow. Megan frowned. She’d been careful to not imply any romantic overtones to the visit, now that she’d told him clearly she wasn’t emotionally ready to commit to him, and he had as clearly said he was done waiting. The last thing she wanted was to further confuse him. Why couldn’t this be simpler?

  “My plan is to stay out of the way and let Piper rest. She’s obviously put in a lot of time at the yard office. I don’t know how she’s done that and kids. But this way she can do it without being so tired.”

  “That’s your plan, huh?”

  “You know how I like to plan.” She tried to be light.

  He nodded—a short tight movement—and they rode in silence. Inside, she felt the distance and the hurt from him, and wanted to make it better but didn’t know how. Sighing inwardly, she chatted with Jakey about his truck.

  The first thing that struck Megan about the lumber yard was that it was big, bigger than Bryant had led her to imagine. And loud. Saws buzzing and a few forklifts hauling lumber back and forth with the reverse beepers going on and off. Two large warehouse structures stood facing each other. Like a protective soldier, a smaller office type showroom stood in front and between them.

  As they entered through a wide opening between the warehouses behind the showroom building, Megan heard “Wood pile!” Jakey, who had been happily holding each of their hands, took off like a shot in the direction of the far end of the first warehouse. Apparently, this was a familiar play place. Megan squinted, watching where he ran.

  Bryant walked to some hooks on the side of the warehouse and grabbed two hardhats, handing one to her.

  “Seriously?” said Megan.

  “Worried about your hair?” He had tried to joke but it was forced. His eyes smoldered with a serious intensity she didn’t know how to take.

  “Can we still see Jakey?” said Megan, looking ahead.

  “Yep, that’s why the sand box is situated there, by the office. Piper’s idea. Besides, Jakey knows his way around.” Bryant continued walking with her between the two warehouses, pointing and perfunctorily explaining some things. The inside structures revealed four wooden floors of bays, holding varieties of wood planks. Men in hardhats moved confidently from bay to bay, or to waiting forklifts for loading.

  Megan put on the hat, feeling conspicuous as he walked her through the middle of the open space. The men turned and stared—some with open interest—but no one jeered or catcalled.

  As they approached the alcove, Megan saw a large weather-beaten sand box littered with Tonka trucks situated next to a grungy woodpile. She wondered if Jakey had had a tetanus shot.

  Bryant took a hardhat from a hook on the wall and bent down, handing it to Jake. “Hey buddy—your hardhat.” The little boy looked at Bryant and gave him a thumbs-up, which Bryant returned.

  “Hey, Ryan?” Bryant called to a young man in a flannel shirt stacking wood in the next bay. “Keep an eye on Jake, will you? We won’t be long.”

  The man nodded at Jake. “No problem, he’s my man.”

  Turning toward a worn white double-wide trailer on cement blocks, Bryant was about to say something to Megan when the door opened and a dark-haired young man dressed conspicuously in a nice shirt and slacks exited. He walked toward Bryant but with his eyes fixed on Megan.

  Bryant nodded in greeting. “Bertie, this is Megan. She’s come to visit while Dad’s in the hospital.”

  Bertie shook her hand while giving an appreciative smile. “Wow, great. How long are you staying?”

  Bryant turned to face him and said meaningfully, “Until Dad is out of the hospital. Don’t you have some accounting issues to deal with?”

  Awareness dawned and he adjusted his glasses. “Sure, yeah, nice to meet you, Megan. Um, see you around.” With one last warning look from Bryant, Bertie walked in the direction of the front showroom.

  Climbing the rickety steps, they entered the well-used office with large windows, giving a clear view to an old field on the east side, and most of the yard on the west side.

  Papers were stacked everywhere—in trays, file folders, and some strewn openly between two different desks, a sideboard, and two bookcases. Near a snack counter sat an old coffee maker on a cabinet stand with cheery ceramic mugs, a hat rack, and a boot shelf. A plaque hung over the door: “If women don’t find you handsome, they should at least find you handy.” Various family photos were sprinkled throughout the trailer in stands, frames, and stuck hodge-podge style on a magnetic board. It was worn and comfortable, like a favorite chair, with smells of freshly sawn wood, earth, and working men.

  “So, this is command central?” said Megan.

  “Yep, this is where it all happens. Don’t be jealous.”

  She put her purse on the nearby desk and glanced out the west window at the constant movement. “It’s great—the yard, your family, really, it’s all amazing. From what you said, I guess I pictured something different.”

  “Like?” He sat in his obviously regular leather armchair, leaning back.

  She turned around to face him, leaning against the other desk. “Small, boring, going nowhere kind of thing. This is not that picture.”

  “We’re holding our own.”

  “I think a lot more than that.”

  He only shrugged. The sounds of a young boy’s cries could be heard. Megan instantly turned back to the window to see Ryan with Jakey in tow. He opened the door and they stepped inside.

  Megan went right to Jakey, lifting him up on her hip and giving him a hug.

  “Oh, he’s good, just got a sliver from the side of the sandbox,” said Ryan. Bryant nodded and the young man patted Jakey on the head and left the office.

  “I have the perfect thing for slivers,” said Megan, who toted him over to her purse. Searching through it, she found her make-up tweezers and a hard candy. “Can you suck on this magic pill while I get rid of the sliver?”

  Jakey’s tear-filled eyes looked at her solemnly. She unwrapped and handed him the treat, then took his other hand, searching for and finding the small sliver. Bryant distracted him with teasing questions of where was his magic pill, and, wasn’t Jakey going to share, so that Megan had pulled the sliver before he could make too much of a fuss.

  “There you go, buddy,” said Megan, giving him a quick hug. He returned it, putting his arms around her neck, which surprised her. He held on while she hugged and rocked him, seeing that he was getting sleepy.

  “I think it might be close to his naptime,” she said quietly.

  Bryant stared at her with a peculiar expression. He didn’t respond right away and she almost repeated it, thinking he hadn’t heard her. But then he said in a gruff voice, “Okay, sure, I need to get to the hospital anyway.”

  Ultimately, Megan had begged off of coming to the hospital—it still felt too personal—and made the point she needed to help Piper with the kids. She had felt a shift in Bryant since being at the yard, though she couldn’t name it. Not distant
but thoughtful and brooding, even barely remembering to say good-bye to her. All she could think was that it bothered him she was here, interfering with their personal lives and spaces. She was more determined than ever to stay low-key and out of the family’s way.

  Megan offered to fix lunch. Piper had been grateful, her only request was that it be anything but macaroni and cheese. Afterwards, while Sarah and Jakey napped—Sarah in her crib and Jakey on the floor of his Our Town mat still clutching his yellow truck—Piper headed over to the yard to finish up some necessary paperwork. Megan quickly cleaned the bathrooms and kitchen, and mopped the floor.

  At Piper’s return, she announced a surprise. “No worries on cooking tonight, Megan my girl. It’s at the big house.” Megan opened her mouth to which Piper raised a wagging finger. “Not one word of refusal. We’re bringing the kids so you’re committed. It’s sort of an impromptu gathering. Most everyone has arrived by now. And, Dad actually talked today. So, it’s party time, like it or not.”

  Megan looked stricken, to which Piper laughed outright. “Don’t worry, it’s only a big load of people who can’t wait to gawk at you. What’s not to love?”

  Yes, she was most definitely Bryant’s sister.

  Arriving for dinner, Megan took in the outside of Bryant’s family home. A good-sized lovely house, not pretentious or fancy, with a fresh-looking craftsman style in olive green and sharp white trim.

  Stepping through the door, Megan realized immediately that Piper had not been exaggerating about the family. Streams of people and children seemed to flow from every opening. Two large golden Labradors the size of small horses roamed freely between the humanity. Megan had no idea Bryant had so much extended family, again surprised at what he hadn’t shared, although maybe living in it was so familiar. To her and life in a quiet home with a few absent siblings, this was like the mall on Black Friday.

  Wading through people, she smiled and answered the inquiries: “Hi, who are you?” and, “Good to see you. Whose clan are you with?”

  She bumped into Piper once. “Been initiated into the family reunion?” she said. “Mix, mingle, have some food. Enjoy the inquisition.” Chuckling, she ambled by, toting two plates. Megan took up her own plate and spent a safe amount of time spooning dishes onto it. She found a quiet corner, tucked away in the family room, but it wasn’t as secluded as it seemed. For the next hour women of all ages found their way to her like a trek to the Dalai Lama, asking all sorts of questions: “Where are you from?” “How do you know Bryant?” “Oh, you’re Megan. And how long are you staying?”

  Two ladies chatted next to her. “You know it’s about time Bryant settled down,” said the first one, looking suspiciously at Megan.

  “I know,” said the other. “Dating everyone in the county, and these stage mothers—so pushy.”

  “If that isn’t the truth. And sometimes it’s the mothers themselves, the single ones of course.” They both nodded knowingly.

  Megan almost touched her forehead to be sure there wasn’t a sticker saying, “Wed Me.”

  Occasionally, she saw Bryant from a distance, wearing that supercilious half-smile as he watched the women descend upon her, clearly unmoved to rescue her. Megan noticed a fair amount of 20-somethings continually finding their way to him as well. Piper had commented earlier about it. “Don’t let them scare you, there’s always been a sort of following for Bry. He got tired of that a long time ago.”

  But he didn’t look tired of it. In fact, if she were being honest with herself, she’d say he was rather enjoying it. Someone feeding him from a plate, two other girls laughing at whatever he seemed to say. Well, he was free to do as he pleased. She was strictly here to help the family. Nothing more. Frankly, she had no one to blame but herself, and her ridiculous emotional state. If only she could jump over it like one of her track hurdles. Boom, boom, boom, finish line and done. It just wasn’t that simple. She didn’t have the experience or tools to navigate this. It wasn’t stats. It was figuring things out, and that took time and understanding. Two things she’d already pushed to the limit with him.

  Abruptly, Megan rose and excused herself on pretense of finding a bathroom. Her heart hurt and she needed some peace. In the hallway, someone tugged her arm. Turning, she saw Piper with a sympathetic expression. “Had enough? Go upstairs, last room on the right. It’s the quietest. And Bryant’s old room.” She winked and pushed her gently toward the stairs. Making her way, Megan gratefully ascended the stairs, anxious for a moment of solace.

  ***

  Piper snagged Bryant’s arm as he walked past her, shooing one of the dogs out the front door. “Listen, I’ve been watching you watch Megan the whole time. Before your eyes fall out, how about you do something fun with her?”

  Bryant’s face hardened. “Not the time, sis.”

  “Look, Dad’s doing great. He’s got more babysitters than he can count, and can’t stand any of us right now. He’s good, the yard is good, it’s all good. Go take her up to the mountains. You know, look at the views …”

  Bryant narrowed his eyes. “The nights are cooler now.”

  “So build a fire.”

  “Will you stop?”

  “Only if you get going.” Piper smiled, smoothing the front of his hair. “She’s here, Bry. Here. Obviously, whatever the deal is, she’s swallowed her pride to show she cares.”

  He shook his head and kissed the top of her hair. “You are relentless,” he said, walking in the opposite direction of the stairs.

  Megan lay on the bed, unable to rest, never mind knowing this used to be Bryant’s old room. It felt too intimate, though he couldn’t have stayed here anytime recently. She got up, silently walking around the soft blue room, carefully organized but stuffed full of life’s paraphernalia. Bryant’s life.

  Countless gold and silver trophies stood proudly in different sizes for various sports—football, basketball, wrestling. Pictures in frames crammed the shelves—a young helmeted football player dwarfed by shoulder pads. Had to be Pee Wee football. She fingered the frame of a crew-cut junior high Bryant standing short between two basketball players, a cocky smile saying he didn’t care about that. A messy-haired high school Bryant standing tall, front and center of the basketball picture with arms behind his back, no smile.

  Then the females. Lots of dance pictures with oversized corsages and pretty girls with dated hairdos. Bending to the pictures, Megan saw they were obviously from a popular set. The displays, with coordinating ribbons and accessories, said Mom preserved these.

  Bryant had obviously been driven and successful and yet now, he drifted, hating his job at the yard but with no real vision for his life. Megan shook her head. Both she and Bryant, each with their own emotional boulders in the road to move aside, and yet seemingly unable to. Maybe they just needed time away from each other to solve their problems and come back together a little more whole. Could it be that easy? Was it ultimately timing that stood in their way?

  The sound of a cell phone ringing brought her back to the present. She looked around before realizing it was in her back pocket.

  The number didn’t look familiar. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Megan? Is that you? Listen, I’m on shore for a short time and wanted to call you from a landline—thank you, Keenan, I’ll just take an herbal tea—how are things back in the US?”

  “Mrs. Van De Morelle? This is a surprise, a big surprise. Yes, I’m doing well. Things are good.” Why would Mrs. V. be calling her?

  “Good, good. Listen dear, I’ve only a few minutes—you know how it is—but I have a proposition for you. In case you weren’t aware, I hired Rosa and frankly, she is worth three of you and any of those Performing Premiers, I can tell you. Very smart and quite funny, always trying to teach me Spanish and correcting my English—yes, Keenan, show them in and I’ll be right there—sorry dear, are you still there?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m here.”

  “All right then, my offer is this. Would like you to come work for me and h
elp manage a new department? I’m going to try my hand with legal immigration as it were—imagine that—helping some of the well-qualified ship employees into long-term working situations. Mostly in the US and Canada. I’m thinking—yes, Keenan, lovely, be right there—I’m thinking to offer you a gloriously healthy salary, say upper five figures, to tempt you away from that fabulous temp agency you’re slaving in.”

  Megan shook her head in awe. “That sounds amazing—you’re actually placing the workers on the mainland? Honestly, that’s a fantastic idea. But do you mean I would work from the ship?”

  “On the ship, at different ports, whatever is needed. Travel, cruises—but working ones, mind you—truly a dream job if there ever was one, if I do say so myself. But work it is, don’t kid yourself that you’ll be tanning all day. So what do you think?”

  Megan’s mind felt like popcorn, her thoughts exploding all over the place. “I’m not sure. How exactly would that work?”

  Mrs. V. gave her several details, all of which sounded slightly warbled in her mind. The whole thing sounded fabulous and surreal, yet something pulled at her mind and heart. “Mrs. Van De Morelle, this is incredible, and I have to say, a bit overwhelming.”

  “Well, let me add a little more to completely overflow it. I’m asking Bryant to come on board as well.”

  Bryant? Megan’s stomach swooped.

  “I have need of his Spanish translation and diplomatic services. I tried his cell phone but no luck. Perhaps you can pass on the good news and have him give me a ring?”

  “Of course, that’s great news for him.”

  “So? Will you jump on the offer or not?”

  That was so Mrs. V. Offer a life-changing deal and want an immediate response. “This is amazing, and I’m so glad you called. But may I have some time to think it over and talk with my employer?”

  “Absolutely, but don’t make me wait too long. Think it about it and get back to me in what—a few days, no more than a week?”

  Megan’s mind whirled. “Terrific. And thank you, I’m delighted, and flattered you’d even think of me—beyond flattered. Yes, I’ll call you in a few days.”

 

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