by Gerri Hill
She pointed out the deeper holes to him, then walked into the water, him riding piggyback so she could show him the fish.
“I see them!”
“Okay…so let’s see if we can catch them.”
She put a bobber on his line and threaded a few kernels of corn on his hook, then stood back, trying to keep the dogs away as Jack tossed the hook into the pool. It didn’t take long for the bobber to start popping up and down.
“You got a nibble,” she said.
“Should I pull it up?”
“Not yet. Let them take it.”
The bobber slipped under the water and he jerked his line up, but the hook was empty. “They got the corn!”
“Sneaky little devils, aren’t they.”
He had better luck the second time and pulled up a small sunfish, barely four inches long. He laughed and clapped and jumped up and down as if he’d caught a monster. She couldn’t help herself. She whipped out her phone, snapping a picture of him holding his catch.
He soon became quite adept at it, finding larger perch from time to time. She sat back with the dogs, smiling at him, his laughter like music in the trees. All too soon, however, it was time to go back.
“We didn’t get to eat your sandwiches,” he complained as they headed back downstream.
“I guess I’ll have to eat yours then.” She was disappointed their time had come to an end so quickly.
“No. You wait here,” he said. “I just have to run up and let my mom know that I’m okay. She’ll let me come back down for a little while. Then we can eat.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”
Barney stayed with them while Jack ran up the hill and disappeared from sight. She walked into the shade and sat down on a rock, sticking her feet into the water. She was ready to go swimming, she decided. Maybe this afternoon. Would she go to the river…or did she dare go to the pond?
The thought of the pond made her heart ache. She hadn’t been brave enough or strong enough to even think about going to the pond. The pond was almost sacred ground. A wonderful, magical, secret place. It was where they’d all learned to swim. It was where her nieces and nephews had learned to swim too. It was where you snuck off to if you wanted peace and quiet. It was where impromptu campouts were had…wieners roasted over the fire pit, marshmallows stabbed on sticks. The only shelter out at the pond was an old lean-to her grandfather had erected. A metal footlocker held a couple of sleeping bags and some camping gear for cooking. Another held the floats and rafts they used in the water. Other than an old table, she didn’t think there was much else out there. Well, except for the four-wheeler. She smiled as she thought of it. What fun they’d had on that thing. There was no electricity. No phone, no TV, no lights. Just a lantern, a fire pit…and fun. She wondered if Jack would like it out there.
Barney barked and took off running, Max right behind him. She turned, seeing Jack racing back down the hill, a grin on his face.
“She said I could stay out another hour!”
He sat down beside her and took off his shoes and socks, mimicking her position with his feet in the water. She took out a sandwich and a Coke for him…she had a beer hidden under the ice for her. The dogs played around them, stopping long enough to beg for a handout. They soon tired and moved to the shade of an oak, lying side by side, their puppy tongues hanging out, eyes getting sleepy.
It was a blissful afternoon. Lindsey couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at peace. Well, sure she could. It was the last time she’d been out here…before they were all gone. Christmas. That was the last time they’d all gotten together out here. It was nice whenever they got together, but summer was different. Summer meant lazy days in the water and eating on the deck under the stars…long summer days filled with love and laughter. Those days were surely over now. She sighed and looked over at Jack. Well, today had been pretty nice. Jack had provided some laughter and dared she say it? She was becoming quite fond of the kid.
He turned, finding her watching him. He smiled at her. “Can we do this again tomorrow? Sneak past the marker?”
She nodded. “Sure. We’ll try it again.”
Chapter Eight
“So what is it that you do down there?” Hannah asked.
Jack handed her the potato he’d just peeled. “We…we hang out,” he said.
“Hang out? You and this…this friend of yours?”
“Lindsey.”
She didn’t know why, but she thought she’d feel better about him making up a friend if it had been a boy. But a girl? Lindsey? She thought back to his school friends. Was there a Lindsey? Had he had a crush on her?
“I like it when we have mashed potatoes,” he said.
“I know you do. You also like fried chicken.”
“It’s one of my favorites.” He stepped off the stool he’d been standing on at the sink and wiped his hands on the towel. “I’m going to go play my game,” he said, running out of the room without waiting for her response.
She continued cutting up the potatoes, wondering what in the world she should do. Well, for one, she needed to spend more time with him. Of course, she knew that she did. But…she paused, looking around the kitchen. It was still more Lilly—Great-grandma Larson—than her. To appease Margie, she’d been taking baby steps with putting the old things away and bringing out hers. Margie never failed to notice. A comment like, “Oh, that meant so much to her…it’s a pity you don’t like it” would follow nearly every move she made.
That was really her excuse for letting Jack go off on his own. She couldn’t live here, in someone else’s house, and pretend that it was hers. She just couldn’t. All of their boxes were shoved into a spare room and she’d been—little by little—taking her things out and shoving Lilly’s back inside. The den was starting to look like home, complete with the large TV they’d brought with them. So were their bedrooms. That was the first thing she’d tackled. The great room? No, not so much. That’s one reason she rarely went in there. It was a large house, old but large and roomy. A huge kitchen with enough room for their small table. The formal dining room was still furnished as it had been, including the nice hutch. They had yet to use it and she had no plans to. She’d redone both of their bathrooms. The last place to do was the kitchen. She thought she’d be finished by now, but she’d gotten sidetracked by trying to peel off the godawful wallpaper that was tacked to two walls. Margie had been appalled that she would even take it down, but she’d told her, once again, that if they were going to live there, it would be her home, not Great-grandma Larson’s.
When she was through, though, she’d make some plans for her and Jack. There was a state park not too far from them—Garner. Right on the Frio River, it would be a good place to go swimming this summer. Margie had warned that it was extremely busy and crowded, but she’d take the chance. And one weekend soon, she wanted to make a trip back to San Antonio to see her family. She knew Jack would enjoy spending a couple of days at her parents’ pool. Maybe then he would forget about this so-called friend of his…this Lindsey person that he’d made up.
“Grandma’s here,” Jack called seconds before Barney barked.
“Great,” she murmured, eyeing the glass of wine she’d hardly touched.
Lilly’s well-seasoned cast-iron skillet was already on the stove, ready for the chicken she was about to fry. The potatoes were just beginning to boil and she turned them down. She was embarrassed—ashamed—that there was no vegetable in sight. Margie would no doubt have a comment to make about that.
“Well, I see that dog is still in the house,” Margie said as she came into the kitchen. “Lilly would have a fit if she knew.”
Holding back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue, Hannah reached for her wineglass instead. It had been two days since she’d seen Margie. She thought perhaps she was mad because Jack had declined her invitation to church camp. Or maybe she was actually considering that she’d been over too much and was getting into their space.
> “I brought some vegetables from the garden,” Margie said, placing a basket on the counter. “I’ve got way more than Dennis and I can eat.” Her words cut off abruptly. “Wine? Should you really be drinking in front of your son? And at this early hour?” she asked, her voice lowering to a near whisper.
Hannah looked beyond Margie, seeing Jack standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh. At that moment, she pictured James standing behind his mother, playfully making faces as she was forced to maintain a stoic expression. She nearly burst out laughing herself as Jack made silly faces at her.
“I know you’re still grieving,” Margie continued. “Alcohol is not the answer. I worry about you so, Hannah. You could find the answer, if you wanted, by coming to church with us.”
She looked at Jack who was making a choking motion at his neck, his tongue sticking out. She had to turn away to keep from laughing.
“You can blame James if you want,” she told Margie. “But don’t blame it on his death. He thought it was uncivilized to have dinner without wine.” She smiled quickly. “I happen to think it’s uncivilized to cook dinner without wine.” She turned the stove on, heating the oil in the skillet. “Do you want to stay for dinner? You can ask Dennis to come over,” she offered, knowing that Margie would decline.
“Thank you, but tonight is pork chop night. Dennis expects it.” She took a step back. “I really came over to let you know that Nathan and Liz are coming this weekend. It’s probably been years since Jack has spent any time with his cousins.”
Nathan was James’s cousin and his kids were Jack’s second cousins. And if she recalled, Jack had met them exactly once, when he was about four. She didn’t count the short time they’d seen them at James’s funeral. This was why they’d moved out here, she told herself. To allow Jack to connect—or reconnect—with his dad’s family. So she nodded enthusiastically.
“Sure. Will there be a party or something?”
“Al is going to barbecue Saturday afternoon over at their place. You’re welcome to ride over with us.”
“Thanks,” she said, knowing full well that she would take her own car. “Sounds like fun.”
Of course later, as they were having their fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy without a single vegetable on the plate—despite the bounty of squash Margie had brought over—neither of them thought it would be much fun.
“I know,” she said. “But they’re your cousins.”
“So?”
“So…that’s why we moved out here. So you could be around Grandma Margie and Paw Paw Dennis,” she said. “And whatever other relatives popped in.”
“But I don’t even know them,” he complained.
“I don’t either. But Nathan was your dad’s cousin,” she said, hoping that explained it. James and Nathan were close in age and grew up together. Once they’d left home, however, they hadn’t really kept in touch. Regardless, they would go to the party and try to connect with James’s family. That was the main reason they’d moved here.
Jack bit into a drumstick and immediately followed that up with a fork full of mashed potatoes. His cheeks bulged as he chewed. He looked adorable.
“Are you lonely?” she asked him.
He looked at her, blinking his eyes several times. “Not anymore,” he said, potatoes showing as he talked.
She knew what he meant by that comment so she ignored it, continuing on with her train of thought. “You and me…we should do something, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “You’ve been busy.”
“Yes, I have. I’m trying to get this place looking like home for us. I’m nearly finished, though. I want to plant some flowers. What do you say?”
He shrugged again. “Okay.”
“You want to go with me? Margie says the Ranch Outpost in Utopia sells flowers and stuff. We can go tomorrow. Maybe have lunch there…get a burger or something.”
He shook his head. “I’m supposed to meet Lindsey. Can we go early in the morning instead?”
She stared at him. How in the world could she compete with a made-up friend? Should she be worried? Should she suggest a therapist? She blew out her breath. James would tell her she was overreacting. James would tell her to chill out.
“Okay. We’ll go early then,” she conceded.
She was rewarded with a nod and smile as he shoved more mashed potatoes into his mouth.
Chapter Nine
Lindsey sat in the shade, watching as Jack tossed his line into the creek. He was barefoot, walking carefully across the rocks, trying to get out of the sun.
“It’s hot,” he said. “I wish we could go swimming.”
“Yeah, me too. I guess your mom would be plenty mad, though.”
“Yeah, she would.” He squatted down, sitting on a small rock. It was hot enough for Max and Barney to forego their normal chasing. Both dogs were lying half in, half out of the creek, chewing on sticks. “We went to a party on Saturday.”
“Oh. I was wondering why you weren’t around. Was it fun?”
He shook his head. “Cousins. They didn’t talk to me much. They thought I was a little kid.”
“How old are they?”
“One was eleven and one thirteen. He was an asshole,” Jack said, then he looked at her quickly. “I can say that because my mom’s not around, but that’s what she called him.”
She laughed. “Yeah…thirteen…he probably thinks he’s hot shit, I guess.”
He giggled, then splashed water at her. She splashed it back. After a few minutes, his smile faded.
“They were talking about my daddy. They thought I wasn’t listening. My grandma said that he was in a better place now.” He looked over at her. “What does that mean? What could be better than with me and Mom?”
Lindsey snorted. “That’s bullshit,” she said.
His eyes widened.
“Sorry. That’s crap,” she said instead.
He laughed and so did she. Again, his smile faded. “You don’t think he’s with Jesus, do you?”
She shook her head slowly. “Oh, kid…I’m not the one to ask. I don’t think that there’s a Jesus or a God or anything like that.” She lay down against the rocks, staring up into the clear blue sky. “I lost my whole family,” she said.
“All of them?”
“Yeah…all of them. My grandparents. My mom and dad. My brother Shane and his wife Jessica. Their three kids. My sister Lorrie and her husband Dale.” She swallowed. “And their two kids.”
He was quiet for a moment, then he laid his fishing pole down and came over to her, sitting down beside her.
“What happened?” he asked in a whisper.
She turned her head slightly, meeting his blue eyes. “We…we had this annual trip we took. Every year. Every February. We went skiing in Colorado for ten days.” She turned away from him, looking up into the sky again. “My grandfather was a pilot. He had a plane, an old Gulfstream…kept it over at the small airport in Uvalde. They were supposed to fly to Dallas and pick me up, like always.” She closed her eyes. “I had a client change a design at the last minute. I’m a…I was…an architect.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I had…I had some changes to make and I couldn’t get away. I told them to go on without me and I’d get a flight out in the next day or two.” She opened her eyes again, seeing far into the heavens above her, not a single cloud in sight. “So my grandparents left here and went to San Antonio to pick up my parents and brother and sister and then, instead of flying to Dallas to get me, they headed to…to Colorado.”
She felt tears running out of her eyes and she couldn’t stop them. Her friends back in Dallas, her colleagues, they all knew what had happened—her family was killed in a plane crash. But this was the first time she’d said it out loud, the first time she’d recounted it in detail…and all of this to a nine-year-old kid. To her surprise, Jack laid down beside her and took her hand, his tiny fingers entwining with hers. Her tears turned to sobs.
“What happened?
” he whispered.
“They…they didn’t make it. The plane…the plane went down in New Mexico,” she cried. “They…they were all gone. All of them. Gone.” She tried to stop her tears but couldn’t. He squeezed her hand tightly and she squeezed it back. “I was supposed to be with them, Jack. And I wasn’t. Now I’m the only one still here.”
Jack didn’t say anything. Hell…he was nine years old, what was he going to say? They lay there on the rocks, her crying and him holding her hand. Max came over, his wet tongue wiping at her cheeks as he usually did when she cried. She gave a half-hearted laugh and pushed him away.
“Thanks, Max.”
She finally sat up and bent over the creek, splashing her face with water. She used her shirt to dry her face, her eyes. Jack was still lying back, looking up into the sky. He turned his head and she was surprised to see tears in his eyes.
“That’s why you look so sad sometimes,” he said.
She nodded. “Yeah. Like you miss your daddy…I miss them.”
He stared at her intently. “Do you have any friends, Lindsey?”
She slowly shook her head. “Just you.”
He nodded in understanding. “Me neither. Just you.”
Chapter Ten
Jack was sitting on the floor, putting on the filthy pair of Adidas he wore every day. Hannah glanced at the clock. Each day, he was going earlier and earlier to the creek and coming back dirtier and dirtier. What in the world was he getting into? She slowly shook her head. Was she being a terrible mother for letting him go out alone? In her defense, she’d asked him just yesterday if she could go with him, but he had said no, that he was fine.
Well, her unpacking and rearranging of the house was finished—finally—and she had time on her hands. So over breakfast, she’d offered to take him to the state park that was downstream on the Frio River and see if he wanted to go swimming. She thought he’d jump all over it. But no. He wasn’t interested.
