He picked up his son. Scott kept the boat in his hand and nestled his face in the curve of Eric’s neck. Eric’s thoughts moved away from denial; there were new treatments and therapies, so much more hope than ever before for children with autism.
“We’re gonna get you some help, buddy. Things are going to be better.”
It was nearly twenty minutes later when they got to the park and began to unload all of the paraphernalia Jill insisted they needed for their picnic. What Eric had thought would be a quick brown-bag lunch at one of the park tables was turning out to be an “event,” complete with linen napkins, real silverware, flowers, and enough chilled drinks in the cooler to last all afternoon. When she pulled the food out of the picnic hamper, it wasn’t ham sandwiches and chips; Jill had prepared an elegant meal, complete with shrimp cocktail.
“I just thought we should do something nice,” she said when Eric eyed the spread. “This should be a new beginning for the three of us.”
A warning shimmered beneath Eric’s skin. Taken with her announcement that she wasn’t seeing Jason any longer, that comment worried him. But it made no sense at all that Jill was insinuating they get back together—she’d shot down every attempt he’d made to save their marriage. It was far too late.
He pulled out his paper with the list of doctors. “I’ve done some research. This is the list of doctors that I think would be best for evaluating Scott. I’ll just tell you a little about what I know of each of them, then we can decide where to begin. Of course, some of these evaluations take several days, so you might need to arrange time away from wo—”
She brushed the paper away, pushing it back toward him. “Let’s just have a nice lunch first. Scottie’s PBB sandwich is in that Tupperware.” She pointed toward the basket. “Can you get it out for him? He’s probably getting hungry.”
Eric wanted to say, The fact that our near three-year-old son can’t tell us he’s hungry tells me we don’t have time to waste eating grapes and fancy cheese and shrimp cocktail. But he held his tongue.
“Here’s your sandwich, buddy.” Scott didn’t pick it up. “Aren’t you hungry?” Eric prompted.
“He’ll eat in a few minutes. I’m sure he’s excited,” Jill said cheerily. “This is our first picnic in the park, after all.”
Again, Eric bit his tongue and just put a comforting hand on his son’s back.
She laid out the food in what must have been an attractive display. Eric was too preoccupied watching Scott for signs of distress to enjoy the taste of anything—or join in the small talk Jill was attempting.
After twenty minutes, Scott still hadn’t touched his food. When Eric leaned closer, that growling purr was coming from deep in his son’s throat.
Eric was about to comment on it and segue into the topic that had brought him here when Jill said, “I finally saw Glory out at Tula’s last night.” She popped a grape into her mouth. “She was a total mess.”
Eric sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
Jill looked at him for a second. “Well, it was obvious she’d been crying. Tula said she’d been to the cemetery. You would think after all this time she’d have cried herself out. She looked old and tired.”
“She’s younger than you.” The words were out before Eric thought. But it was her other comment that ignited his anger. “Just how long do you think a mother should grieve for her child? Tell me, Jill, what’s the socially acceptable limit?”
“No need to get nasty. I was just making an observation.” Then her gaze sharpened on him. “What makes you so sure she was crying over the baby? Her husband is dead, too. And she didn’t even know that baby.”
It astounded him that Jill, after delivering a child from her own body, could speak so callously. “We didn’t love Scott any less before he was born.”
“Of course we didn’t! But Glory’s . . . situation was much different.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, now wary of the uneven ground on which he was treading. There was a look in Jill’s eye that bordered on jealousy—he hoped he was misreading her.
“I shouldn’t gossip. It’s over and done. There’s no baby and no husband, so it shouldn’t matter anymore.”
Eric was torn between asking her to explain and punching her in the mouth.
Jill sighed. “You know Mother and Ovella are the dearest of friends. And poor Ovella, she’s lived with the truth so long in silence . . . she’s an amazingly strong woman.”
It was clear there would be no avoiding finishing this conversation. “Yes. It’s terrible that she lost her only child.”
Jill glanced around, as if to make sure no one was within listening range, and lowered her voice. “It’s not just that—though that would certainly be enough to break most women. Ovella hinted to Mother that the baby wasn’t Andrew’s.”
Eric’s blood felt like molten lava. First of all, he didn’t want to believe it. Second . . . “You sitting there telling me that is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”
She stiffened. “I did not try to foist another man’s baby on you!”
He looked her in the eye and raised a brow. “Well, now we’re just quibbling over details, aren’t we?”
“I didn’t ask you here to fight about Glory Harrison. Where is that list of doctors?”
Jill had to admit, even she’d had doubts about that claim. Her mother had said that Ovella hinted concern about Andrew’s marriage. Her mother had “felt certain” it had been about Glory, knowing “the stock she came from.” Andrew had been such a perfect husband. Planting the seed in Eric’s mind might just scare him away from the woman.
She sat closer to Eric as he shared the information about several specialists and clinics with her, wishing she’d never agreed to this. The more he talked, the more frightened she got. In the end, she picked Duke University, mainly because it was far enough away that it would require an overnight stay. They could live like a family, and Eric would see how much they all needed to be together.
As she packed up the picnic, Eric asked, “Can I have Scott on Sunday?”
Her hands stilled. “Why?”
“Tula invited us to a family reunion at her place.”
“I could never get you to go to my family reunion!”
Eric shifted impatiently. “Your family reunion was in Michigan. You asked once, and I couldn’t get away from work.” Before she could respond, he added, “I thought it might be good for Scott to be around other kids.”
“He’s around other kids at school.”
Eric put his hands on his hips. “What’s the big deal? You normally ask me to take him one of the days on your weekend anyway.”
It was hard to come up with a counter to that one. She did, but it was because she had things to do that Scott wouldn’t enjoy. Eric always seemed thrilled with the extra time. “Okay. What time?”
She feared his sudden interest in the Baker family reunion had more to do with Glory than Scott. So much for a rumor scaring him off.
Chapter Twenty
AS ERIC DROVE OUT to Tula’s Sunday morning, Jill’s accusation buzzed in his brain. Could it be true? Could Glory’s baby have been fathered by someone else? Not that he would blame her for seeking comfort in the arms of another man, married as she was to such a controlling bastard.
Still, it didn’t ring true of the Glory he knew.
However, he thought, the Glory he knew had been out from under Andrew’s mental abuse for a year and a half.
A man like Andrew would not have taken a wife’s betrayal sitting down. Had Glory been so desperate that she’d been driven to extreme measures to protect herself?
No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t believe Glory had cheated on her husband. Ovella, had she suspected such a thing as her daughter-in-law’s carrying another man’s child, would never have breathed a word of it to anyone—even her closest friend. People like Ovella worried more about social image than they did about putting food on the table.
Turning onto Cold Springs Hollow Road, he studied the sky; deep blue with occasional white puffy clouds. The storm that had passed on Friday night had lifted the heavy humidity. Even the contours of the mountains showed in rare clarity. The sun was hot, but it was pleasant in the shade; a perfect day for a family reunion. A perfect day with Glory. And that was all this day was going to be about. No rumors. No doubts.
He’d come early, before Tula would be home from church. As he approached the house, he saw Glory in the yard, setting up a volleyball net—or at least trying to. From where he was, it looked like a battle at fever pitch—and the net was winning.
She looked adorable, in a white T-shirt that showed just a glimpse of skin above her denim shorts. She was bent over, her thick hair completely blocking her face as she tried to set one of the poles in the ground. She was wrestling the thing so intently, he was nearly to the house before she noticed his car.
When she did, she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and blew the hair off her face. The pole beside her fell over. She gave it a dirty look that made Eric laugh out loud.
She met him at his car door when he got out. There was an awkward moment where Eric didn’t know exactly what to do. Kiss her? Were there other Bakers lurking around somewhere that she didn’t want to know about them?
She touched his cheek and cleared up his confusion. “Hey, you,” she said sweetly.
He put his hands on her waist and kissed her gently.
“You’re just in time.” She gestured toward the net, stakes, string, and poles lying in a jumble in the grass. “I was about to turn that pole into a pretzel.”
“Just let me get Scott, then we’ll beat it into submission.” He opened the back door and lifted Scott from his car seat, then set his little feet on the ground. Scott clutched his pirate boat in one hand and the quilt Tula had made in the other.
“I’ve put the puppies in their playpen,” Glory said. “Maybe Scott would like to sit in there with them while we get this thing put together.” She pointed to the ten-foot circle of two-foot-high rabbit fencing. Lady was lounging in the grass just outside the enclosure.
“How about it, big guy?” Eric asked, giving Scott a playful jiggle. “Want to play with the puppies?”
They walked over to the playpen. Eric picked Scott up and stepped over the fence. Then he knelt and the puppies migrated as one bouncy, tumbling mass in their direction. When they started to lick Scott’s face, he began to cry.
Eric tried to calm the puppies as he whispered encouraging words in Scott’s ear, but Scott grew more tense by the moment.
Just as Eric was ready to give up and get back out, Lady jumped over the fence and put herself between Scott and the puppies.
Scott stopped crying.
Lady nudged her nose under his forearm, getting him to put his hand on her head.
Eric laughed. “Maybe you’d rather sit outside the fence with Lady?”
“Isn’t that amazing,” Glory said. “I’ve seen him respond to her like that more than once.”
Eric put his hands on his hips and smiled as he watched his son sit contentedly with the dog. “It is something, isn’t it? It seems like Lady knows just what she’s doing, too.”
While Scott and Lady sat beside the playpen safe from puppy attacks, Eric and Glory put up the volleyball net. When it was up and strung tight, Eric said, “There, now that wasn’t so hard.”
Glory picked up the volleyball and threw it at him, hitting him squarely in the stomach.
He ran and grabbed her around the waist before she could get away. “Watch it, girl, or you’ll be blowing up that inflatable jumping thing by yourself.”
“And what kind of attitude is that for a hero to take?” She turned in his arms and faced him, sliding her arms around his neck.
The sound of her laugh lightened something inside him. He kissed her again—a serious “I’ve missed you” kiss, unlike their tentative “hello” kiss. As their lips touched and their bodies pressed closer, he realized just how much he had missed her. It had begun the minute she’d driven away from his house on Thursday night. When he’d returned to his living room it had felt as if she had taken all of the warmth and vitality with her when she left.
But, he realized, his joy in her presence, his need to be near her, had started long before that. On the morning after her car accident, she had been the first thing he’d seen when he opened his eyes. He liked that feeling. And, even though there had been no sexual intimacy that night, he liked the feel of her sleeping snuggled against his body, of his arms wrapped around her.
Their relationship seemed so fragile that on Thursday, as he’d watched her drive off into the night, he’d wondered if he dared hope he’d experience waking with her beside him again.
Looking in her eyes now, he believed there was hope.
As he looked closely, he also saw that she looked tired, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well.
“Ahem.”
Glory jumped guiltily out of Eric’s arms.
Charlie stood there with a wily grin on his face. “Am I interrupting?”
“Did you learn to walk on those cat’s paws when you were sneaking out of women’s bedrooms in the middle of the night?” Glory asked, apparently deciding to fight fire with fire.
Charlie gave a low whistle. “All that piss and vinegar must come from Granny.”
With a satisfied-looking smile, Glory said, “Granny hears you talk like that, and you’ll see she didn’t pass it all on—she saved some to use on foulmouthed grandsons.”
Charlie walked over and kissed Glory on the cheek. “No need to get prickly. I won’t tell anyone you were making out with the fire chief.”
“Did you come to make yourself useful, or just to see if you could get under my skin?” Glory asked.
“Do I have to choose?” Charlie offered a cocky grin.
“Go get the folding tables out of the basement.” Glory gave him a playful shove toward the house.
As he walked away, he muttered, “Just as bossy as Granny, too.”
When Charlie was out of earshot, Eric asked, “You two always that way with each other?”
“No. Sometimes we’re mean.” Glory winked and started toward the garage. “I’ll get the heavy-duty extension cord. You drag that blower over to the moonwalk.”
By the time they had the turrets to the castle-shaped moonwalk inflated, people were beginning to arrive with covered dishes, lawn chairs, and children.
Granny had come home right after Glory got the extension cord and had taken Scott and Lady into the house with her. She came out now, leading Scott by the hand.
Eric came up to the stoop and lifted Scott into his arms. “Look at all of the kids. Should we go see what they’re doing?”
Glory watched, admiring his devotion to his child. He took Scott over to several preschoolers who were playing a very loose version of soccer.
Granny drew her attention when she nearly shouted, “Good gracious! There’s your aunt Helen, Glory, come all the way from Chattanooga.” Granny hurried to give her daughter a hug. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
The two women eased out of their embrace and Helen moved toward Glory. “And miss all this fun! I traded shifts at the hospital. Have to do a twelve-hour on Monday, but it’ll be worth it. Nobody has reunions like the Bakers.” She hugged Glory and whispered into her ear, “How’s my favorite niece?”
Glory rarely saw Helen—she was one of the few who’d left the hollow. But she always loved the time they spent together. Being around Helen was like having her mother without the rules and restrictions and the overriding pressure to rise above their roots.
“I’m good, Aunt Helen.” As Glory said it, she realized it was true. She was good; she felt stronger than she had in years. “Where’s Uncle Kenny?”
Helen laughed and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Comin’ along.”
Glory looked beyond her aunt. Uncle K
enny, a short, stocky man with iron-gray hair, was headed their way. He had a blanket thrown over one shoulder, a soft-pack cooler on a shoulder strap on the other, two folding lawn chairs in one hand, and a huge picnic hamper in the other. He was staggering under the weight.
Helen said, “He said he didn’t need any help. I’ve decided to start taking him at his word. Dang man never says what he means. Time he learns.”
“Well, if it doesn’t break his back, maybe it’ll teach him.” Glory laughed. She started toward her uncle to give a hand.
Aunt Helen stopped her. “How’s he going to learn if you don’t let him face the consequences?”
Uncle Kenny huffed past, red-faced, but not making a peep to ask for help. This appeared to be a test to see which half of the couple was more stubborn. Glory put her money on Aunt Helen; she had the Baker-gene edge.
As the family assembled, Glory reacquainted herself with her extensive web of cousins. Eric fit right in; of course, he did know most everyone at least in passing. Glory had to chuckle when she saw him lay his contribution of peanut butter and banana sandwiches on the food table.
Granny called everyone to prayer before the meal. It was the only time Glory ever saw this crowd silent and still. It didn’t last long. Almost at the same time as they chorused, “Amen,” the chaos began again.
Glory, Eric, Scott, and Lady shared a blanket under a sassafras tree. Scott offered Lady some of his sandwich and grinned when she took it.
Glory said, “Lady has to be good for him. He seems to trust her more than he does the rest of us.”
“I’ve noticed.” Eric went on to tell her how responsive Scott had been on Friday. “I hope, once we get this figured out, that he’ll have more good days than bad. It’s been sliding the other direction for so long, I’d almost worried it was too late. But Friday—that was encouraging.”
It nearly broke Glory’s heart to think such a small thing could give him such elation—and he was elated, there was no other word for it. It showed in his eyes, in the animation of his features when he described what had happened, in the excitement in his voice.
On Blue Falls Pond Page 27
