Summer Plans and Other Disasters

by Karin Beery

“Not morbid, but curious. I figured you’d have a script all planned out.”

  “I did.” She stopped beside him, resting her hands on the rough, worn fence posts.

  Kyle looked over his shoulder at her. “And?”

  She shrugged. “I just can’t remember it right now.”

  He smiled. “Well then, let me start. I want to apologize for the other night.”

  “You already called for that. Why’d you drive all the way out here?”

  “I told you. Curiosity.”

  “Wanted to see if I got fat, eh?”

  He laughed. “Wanted to see what would happen when I saw you again.”

  So did she. Callie’s throat clenched. “Are you mad?”

  “Mad?” He turned to her. “About what?”

  She wrapped hear arms around her waist, trying to protect herself from his much-deserved anger. “Us. Me. Calling you after all this time.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “You’re not?” She dropped her arms. “Not any of it?”

  “Did you want me to be mad?”

  “No, but I thought you might be the littlest bit upset.”

  He smiled. “It’s been years, Cal. We’re good. I should get going, though.”

  “Already?”

  “I’m actually on my way to a meeting. It’s on the peninsula, so I thought I’d drive up to see you. I didn’t want Friday to be the first time we saw each other. Are we still on for Friday night? Dinner?”

  Callie nodded. “Yep. Don’t worry about picking me up though. I’ll meet you downtown. Why don’t we go to the Kitchen?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.” He slid his aviators back onto his nose, then turned and walked away.

  Callie stood there, watching him leave. Her emotions shifted, matching tempo with the nearby waves. God wanted her in Traverse City, and Kyle was one of the reasons why. He had to be … right?

  Once again, doubt slithered through her brain. What if she was wrong about Kyle? Again? As she watched him leave, someone else moved into her sight line.

  Ryan, walking around the garage.

  Palpitations.

  Callie pressed her hand over her heart. She should ask her mom if anyone else in the family had cardiovascular issues.

  Weak-kneed, fast-pulsed, and utterly confused, Callie headed toward the house. Whether or not she understood what was going on, she always knew how to calm herself down. There was a Bible in the blue room that literally had her name on it, and somewhere on the desk sat a giant bag of M&Ms.

  Callie sprayed another corner of the living room window with lemon-scented Windex then wiped it down with a fistful of paper towels. She might not be valuable to Jack outside, but at least she could help him inside and clean the house. The layer of dust suggested he didn’t waste much time cleaning, so she wasn’t sure how much he’d appreciate her efforts. Still, cleaning kept her safe and kept her busy. She’d spent almost two hours polishing his furniture.

  And now, all the downstairs windows were clean. Time to head up. Tossing her paper towels, spray bottle, and a few rags into her bucket, she went straight to the window at the top of the stairs. She needed a few pumps of the bottle to cut through the grime, but she didn’t mind. Once she was satisfied the remaining spots were on the outside of the window, she turned toward Jack’s room. Going there next made sense, but the metal staircase in the middle of the hallway grabbed her attention.

  When was the last time she’d taken a minute to enjoy the view from the lantern tower? With everything else going on, she hadn’t even thought of those steps since she’d been home. Leaving her bucket on the floor, Callie grabbed both handrails. She swiveled to the left as she side-stepped her way up the steep, narrow stairs.

  Hot, stuffy air enveloped her as she stepped into the cupola. She squinted in the light. Sweat beaded on her shoulders and rolled down her back where sunlight kissed her body. Callie flipped two locks and cranked open a window.

  She sucked in a fresh breath as Mother Nature performed for her. Sunlight danced across the surface of the water. Seagulls glided through the air. Birds twittered and chirped as the waves kept time. Even the chatter of the tourists added a syncopated, dissonant harmony. Callie closed her eyes to absorb the song. Soon her fingers started their own dance as her mind set Dvorak’s Romance to the tempo of the waves, and her hands played through the piece on their own.

  One. Two. Three bars.

  With each imagined note, her body relaxed. Her mind calmed. Playing the piano was way more effective than chocolate. When she opened her eyes, blues and greens stretched out around her as far as she could see. As a child, she was sure she would be able to see the Upper Peninsula from the top of the lighthouse, but she’d underestimated the grandeur of the bay. Or maybe she’d overestimated her own size and abilities.

  Not just the expanse of the bay prevented her from seeing, though. A decade’s worth of dirt had layered itself on the glass. Stepping quickly down the stairs, Callie returned with her supplies and doused the panes. One section at a time, the view sharpened. As she wiped away the impurities, the colors brightened. The view hadn’t changed, but her perspective did. How much clearer would it be after she cleaned the outsides of the windows?

  “Cal? Where are you?” Jack’s muffled voice reached her.

  She retreated a few steps to yell down. “Up here.”

  “Why?”

  “Cleaning windows.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “Why not? What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Put your shoes on and meet me outside. We’ve got work to do.”

  Callie nearly slid down the steps in her excitement to get to work. Jack wasn’t giving up on her! She rushed down to the main level, emerging in Jack’s office. She left the bucket of supplies on his desk before pulling on her tennis shoes. By the time she made it outside, Jack was climbing into his truck. She climbed in beside him, and they were off.

  The wind tossed her hair around, but Callie didn’t mind. She was on her way to work, which was all she wanted. As they continued to drive, Dvorak’s music continued to play in her head, providing an unconventional soundtrack for the trip.

  “What song are you playing?”

  “What?” She looked at Jack, a little unnerved that he had read her mind.

  He pointed at her left hand. “Your fingers are moving. You’ve been playing air piano since you were a kid.”

  Callie smiled. “Dvorak’s Romance.”

  “Is that the piano and violin song you played at your graduation thing?”

  “Yes. I’m impressed you remember.”

  “It’s hard to be related to you and not learn a few things about classical piano music.”

  “You did come to all of my recitals.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t my favorite music, but I wanted to support you. You always seemed like you enjoyed it.”

  “I did. I do, actually.” Nothing helped her calm down as well as playing a few songs. Closing her eyes and letting her fingers move in their memorized patterns. She could use some of that calm. Maybe Jack could help her make it happen. “Do you have access to Mom and Dad’s storage unit?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is the piano in there?”

  “And all of the other furniture they promised you. Don’t you have a key? It’s all your stuff.”

  “I have it someplace.”

  He sighed. “Cal—”

  “I know, I know. You can lecture me about losing keys later. Do you think there’s room in the lighthouse for the piano?”

  Her brother snorted. “Are you kidding me? Even if we could fit it through the front door, and if we could somehow squeeze it through the dining room, where would we put a piano? Do you want me to get rid of my desk or the couch?”

  Callie slouched in her seat. “
You’re probably right. I was just wishing I could play. I’ve never gone three months without playing.”

  “What about that electronic piano you have?”

  “It’s not the same. The digital keyboard sounds okay but doesn’t have the same feel. Besides, I locked it in my storage unit in Alma. I didn’t think I’d need it.” As she said the words, she realized her fingers were once again tapping out chord progressions on her thighs.

  “Why do you need a piano? Did you find a job playing for someone?”

  “No, I just wanted to clear my head.”

  “Nothing else will work?”

  She shrugged. “Chocolate isn’t working. Sometimes it helps to go for a drive, but my fingers are antsy.”

  Jack nodded. “I get it. Sometimes I just need to build something.”

  “Maybe you could teach me to—”

  “No.”

  “It would give me something to do with my hands.”

  “Like cut them off? No.”

  “I guess I could call the local churches. Maybe someone would let me stop by and play. Before I bought my keyboard, there was a church in Alma that let me use one of their pianos. I had to volunteer to play with their choir, but at least I could practice. I guess it wouldn’t matter if I went to a different church for a few weeks.”

  Jack sighed again, and she could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do about getting the piano out to the house.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t mention it. Let’s just focus on the job, okay?”

  Jack turned off the two-lane road and pulled into the small parking lot. Though the mid-morning sun was already warm, the park was still quiet, which he’d expected on a weekday morning. These were the days he loved the most, when he could tend to acres of parklands with only the birds, the breeze, and the bay to bother him. He parked his truck near the pavilion at Archie Park and admired the shoreline view.

  Callie jumped out of the truck and walked around to his side, yammering about something.

  If only it were just him, the birds, and the bay.

  “Thanks again for letting me work with you today. Honestly, I was a little nervous about being on my own outside.”

  He pointed at her arm. “Are you keeping that clean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad. I actually like putting a wet cloth on it. Helps with the itching.”

  “When are you getting the stitches removed?”

  Callie shook her head. “Don’t have to. They dissolve on their own. You have me all day.”

  Jack twisted the steering wheel in his hand. “Fabulous.” Maybe she’d stay out of trouble if he stayed within helping distance. They’d worked well together in the past. There was no reason to think they couldn’t do it again.

  “So, what are we doing today?”

  “Repairs.” He slid out of the truck and let her close the door behind him.

  She followed him across the driveway to the long wooden building. “What are we fixing?”

  He unlocked the old barn doors. “Everything. The family who rented the park yesterday had too much fun. I took a few complaint calls but couldn’t get out here until today.” With a little effort, he pushed the giant sliding door out of the way. It creaked in protest.

  “Holy cow!”

  “Yeah.” Jack walked around the rectangular building and unlocked the other door. It groaned along its track as he slid it open. Callie stood in the doorway across from him, her face twisted as she scanned the pavilion. Somewhere beneath the piles of garbage were a solid concrete floor and ten pine picnic tables. Glassless windows lined the top portions of most of the walls. Normally, he’d open them for the extra sunlight, but even the lightest breeze would swirl through the building and scatter the trash. Better to wait until he got the mess cleaned up, so it didn’t spread to the farthest corners. How could anyone leave so much junk without even bagging it up?

  Counting to ten, he stood beside his sister and checked for broken tables. He spotted three. Park signs littered the ground. Empty beer and soda cans jostled in the breeze. The scent of spoiled food wafted around them.

  Callie stepped inside. “I hope you got a deposit.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  She looked at him, eyes wide. “You didn’t get a deposit?”

  “Commissioner’s friends. I’m not sure what they collected, if they collected anything.” Jack watched a mouse dive under a plate. “But I’ll make sure they get the bill.” He walked up to stand beside his sister, crossing his arms while he calculated the damage.

  She kicked a can that had rolled against her foot. “Where do we start?”

  “We’ve got to clean up before we know what else needs to be done.”

  Callie nodded. “Why don’t I do that? I can’t get into too much trouble bagging garbage.”

  He nodded. “I’ll get you some gloves and garbage bags.” Some clear liquid dripped off the nearest picnic table and splashed in a puddle below it. “And some industrial strength cleaner.”

  Stacey squinted against the early afternoon sun. If she had been able to find her sunglasses, she wouldn’t have almost clipped that mailbox, but she was already late and didn’t want Jack to have to wait for her. When she finally pulled into Archie Park, she checked the clock. Only ten minutes later than expected.

  She parked next to Jack’s truck and had barely turned off the engine before she was out the door and walking toward the pavilion. Her pulse quickened with each step. She hoped Jack wouldn’t mind the new delivery girl.

  “Stacey!” Callie popped out from behind a post. “What are you doing here?”

  Stacey raised the white paper bag. “Delivering lunch.”

  Callie’s eyebrows slid up her forehead. “Did Jack order from the grocery store?”

  “No. There’s a sandwich shop not far from here. A friend of mine owns it, and I was helping him out today.”

  “You’re a delivery driver too?”

  “Not usually, but when I saw that Jack had placed an order, I volunteered.”

  Jack stepped into the pavilion through the opposite door. “Is there anybody in Traverse City you don’t help?”

  She shook her head. “It was just for a few hours. Your delivery is actually my last job for the day.”

  “Last job at the deli or last job all day?” he asked, walking toward her. Her pulse surged faster than it should have for a girl in her good health. He stopped in front of her. When his arm reached for her, she gasped. Jack gave her a strange glance before taking the bag from her clutched fingers.

  “Your lunch.” Her ears nearly burned off her head. “I’m sorry. You must be starving. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought out a sandwich for myself.”

  “Of course, we don’t mind.” Callie grabbed a sandwich from Jack and plopped herself on a table top. “If you’re done for the day, you’re welcome to hang out here and keep me company. Jack’s not much of a conversationalist.”

  Stacey looked at Jack, waiting for him to approve the invitation, but he was busy unwrapping his sandwich. Callie ripped hers open, then winced. Jack sighed as he offered her his. After they swapped sandwiches, he sat next to Callie on the tabletop, took a bite, then finally looked at Stacey.

  She hadn’t meant to stare, but she wasn’t sure yet if she was welcome to stay.

  Jack shrugged. “We’ll be working, but you can stay.” He took another bite, forcing bread and meat into his cheeks until they bulged. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  Stacey beamed. “I can help. I’ve got some work clothes in my car. Let me just get changed.”

  Jack shook his head, visibly forcing his food down his throat. “You don’t have to work.”

  “No, it’s okay. I have to go to my car anyway. I forgot your drinks.”

  When Stacey returned, Jack wondered if a
dying man had ever refused a lifesaving sip of water. Not that he didn’t want the water. It was the blue-eyed blonde in the black shorts and peach golf shirt. No one should look that cute in an ugly uniform, but she did. That bothered him.

  Stacey disappeared for five minutes before she bounced back into the pavilion with another bag and a gigantic smile. She’d changed into jean shorts and a faded t-shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked even cuter, dang it.

  “Sorry, I forgot to bring these over.” She sat on the other side of Callie. “I hope they aren’t too warm.”

  He took the first bottle she offered. “It’s fine.”

  “So…” She snapped open a soda. “What can I do to help?”

  “I’m almost done sanitizing everything, then I have to apply another coat of something to the picnic tables,” said Callie. “Jack thinks it’s the safest job for me.” She offered up her arm for Stacey’s inspection.

  Stacey laughed. The cheerful sound grated on Jack’s nerves.

  He chugged a mouthful of water, then picked up his sandwich. “Why don’t you two work together? Let me know when you finish, and I’ll find something else for you to do.”

  They nodded, then turned toward each other. Callie started talking, and it didn’t take long for them to settle into a giddy discourse about sandwiches and cleaning supplies. Jack relaxed, knowing they would keep each other occupied for hours, maybe long enough to finish out the day. He didn’t care if their chatter slowed them down, so long as they left him alone.

  An hour later, Jack smiled when he heard Callie telling the story of the first time she had used a nail gun. Thanks to her, there was a row of shingles on his parents’ garage that would survive a typhoon.

  “Argh!”

  The familiar sound of Callie in pain sliced through the air. Jack dropped his tape measure and ran into the pavilion, his heart racing. Ignoring Stacey, he ran right for his sister. “What happened?”

  Callie sat on the ground rocking back and forth while she squeezed her left forearm.

  The air stalled in his chest, pressed down by an undetermined amount of anxiety. “Again?”