by Tefft, Cyndi
Dad shouted to me from outside. “Lindsey! Bring me a couple of plastic bags and grab some clothes out of my suitcase for him.” I raced upstairs to dig up something for Aiden to change into, thankful to have something helpful to do. Dad was nowhere near as tall as Aiden, with a round belly to boot, but Aiden had a belt, so I figured he’d be able to keep the shorts on at least. I scrambled down the stairs and shoved the clothes into Dad’s hands along with the plastic bags he’d asked for. He took them but returned a moment later.
“Do we have any tomato sauce?” he asked.
I dug through the cupboards and piled all the cans I could find into his arms, along with the can opener. I paced back and forth, wishing there were something I could do to help. After what seemed like an eternity, Dad came in, looking haggard, his mouth set in a thin, hard line. He stunk pretty badly himself and I had to force myself to not cover my nose as he sat down on the chair next to the fire.
“Where’s Aiden? Is he okay?” I asked, breathing through my mouth.
“He’ll live.” His tone was curt and I frowned at him, but he wouldn’t look at me.
Aiden finally appeared in the doorway, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable in my dad’s oversized shorts and a polo shirt that was too tight across the shoulders. His ruined clothing was tied up in the plastic bag, dangling from one hand. His pride was obviously damaged, but he stood tall and stuck his chin out, speaking in a calm, clear voice.
“Thank you, Gary, for your help. I’ll be going now.” His eyes met mine for a moment and he sighed, shaking his head in apology.
Dad came into the kitchen, stopping between us. “Come on then, I’ll drive you home,” he practically growled. He was acting like Aiden had purposefully gotten sprayed or something, and it was starting to piss me off.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but if it’s all the same to you, I think it best if I walk home. I could use the fresh air, if you take my meaning.” He managed a weak smile and Dad nodded.
“Oh, I understand more than you think.” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue and I turned, ready to ask him what his freaking problem was when he launched something through the air. Aiden instinctively reached out and caught it in his free hand.
“Don’t forget your toothbrush, son.”
Aiden’s gaze dropped to the white and blue stick in his hand with a look of confusion, but his face fell a moment later as understanding set in. Heat raced up my cheeks and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could die right then. Dad’s pointed gaze was hot on my face and I opened my eyes to see him staring directly at me.
“I told you I was no fool, young lady.” He turned then to Aiden, who stood in the doorway like a stone statue, his face tinged green. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six a.m. Don’t be late.” With that, he strode back into the living room and settled himself into his favorite chair. He snapped open a newspaper, the conversation over. Aiden met my eyes for a moment, but then he, too, walked away without a word, leaving me all alone in the kitchen.
Chapter 7
The next morning, Aiden arrived on time as instructed. My dad received him stiffly at the door while I looked on from the kitchen. Aiden was dressed in the full Scottish regalia that he’d come forward with: kilt, sporran, dirk, stockings, sgian dubh, black shoes, and the beige linen shirt he called a sark. His tartan plaid was slung over his shoulder and pinned with a gold brooch. He bowed to my dad in greeting, then straightened up, looking every inch the wild Scotsman.
“This is the Highland dress of my people. I’d like for ye to see my true self.”
Dad’s gaze swept over him from his boots to his bright blue eyes. “All right, then. Fair enough.” He thrust a cooler into Aiden’s arms and I winced, afraid that Dad’s discovery from last night had caused an irreparable rift in their fledgling relationship. Grabbing the fishing poles and his tackle box, he turned to Aiden with a twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Well, if you’re a true Scotsman, the seat of the boat’s going to be really cold on your bare ass.” When Aiden grinned, Dad finally cracked a smile and shook his head. “Come along then, son. Let’s go catch some fish.”
Even though it was early in the morning, I was far too worked up to go back to sleep. I made myself breakfast and immediately felt like throwing it up. How on earth was I going to get through the day? Aiden had said everything would be fine, but anxiety twisted my insides into knots.
I turned on some loud music to distract myself and proceeded to clean the bathroom from top to bottom, ridding it of the stench of the previous night’s debacle. The smell clung to the shower tiles and as I scrubbed them, I thought back to the horrible taste of the skunk’s spray in my mouth. I knew I’d tasted it, even though I was nowhere close to the skunk, just like I’d felt the effects of the whisky even though I hadn’t been the one drinking. Aiden and I hadn’t had this kind of connection before and he didn’t seem to be aware of it, so I wondered if it was just me.
I thought at first that our connection allowed me to feel his pain since I’d felt the pinprick when he’d poked his finger on the rose bush. But when he did it the second time, I didn’t feel it at all. And I had no explanation for the rush of excitement that had coursed through me when he’d been drinking the night before.
I blew a stray curl off my forehead and turned my attention to the shower curtain, spraying it down with bleach. It wasn’t that I could read his mind, since there had been a number of times I’d wondered what he was thinking. No, it was like I could feel what he was feeling, but only sometimes, and I didn’t understand why or how. Frustrated, I threw the scrub brush in the bucket and turned on the shower to rinse the suds down the drain.
What are they talking about? I desperately wanted to know what was happening out on the lake, to get some reassurance that everything was going well, but I didn’t dare call to Aiden in my mind. I felt that to do so would be an intrusion, so I kept my thoughts to myself.
“If he needs help, he knows how to reach me,” I said to the empty bathroom with a derisive laugh.
All of a sudden, the water pressure dwindled to a trickle and then completely died.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” One droplet hung from the end of the showerhead, mocking me. I dried my hands, then went outside to check the tank.
The rusty behemoth was tucked up close to the cabin, surrounded by leggy weeds and spider webs. I grabbed a stick off the forest floor and waved it at the tank like a sword, hacking and chopping until I’d cleared a path. The pressure gauge on the tank showed that we were, in fact, completely out of water, which meant the pump downhill by the lake must have shut off. The piercing twang of metal covered the sounds of my curses as I smacked the tank in frustration. A squirrel burst out of the underbrush behind me and raced to the upper branch of a tree, chittering its own oaths at my back.
After unearthing an empty bucket from inside the cabin, I tromped down the hill toward the lake. The early morning mist had begun to dissipate as the sun spread its fingers over the water. Aiden and Dad must have made it past the bend towards the fishing hole since I couldn’t see them anywhere. The lake was deserted now, but in another couple hours, it would be teeming with sailboats, jet skis and kids on inner tubes. And I’d still be home alone, trying to figure out how to keep from going insane.
After trudging through the sandy beach, I filled my bucket with water, then climbed back to the pump pit, which was nothing more than a concrete box sunk into the ground. Grunting, I wrestled the heavy wooden lid out of the way and bent forward to peer inside. With only a trickle of sunshine filtering through the trees, the interior looked like a pulsing, breathing mass of daddy longlegs. I sat back on my heels, fighting the heebie jeebies that wriggled up my spine at the sight of the spiders, and looked around for another stick I could use as a weapon.
I spied a thin branch covered in moss and crawled the few feet over to it. An eerie sensation tickled the back of my neck, like someone was watching me. My hair formed a curtain over my eyes as I twisted aro
und, trying to see who it was. Sitting up, I brushed the curls away from my face and scanned the woods. Nothing seemed out of place: a sparrow flitted from one tree to the next above my head, the lake lapped at the shore with a slap-swoosh sound, and a light breeze rustled the pine needles on the ground.
Shaking my head to dispel the creepy feeling, I turned back to the pit and brandished my wooden sword, clearing a path to the primer plug. Bracing myself with one hand, I leaned into the concrete box, twisted off the cap, and dribbled water from my bucket into the intake valve.
While I waited for the pump to fill, that uncanny awareness crept across my skin again. It was probably just the suffocating confines of the pit getting to me, but I felt as if someone were breathing down my neck. Maybe Ranger Jim was playing a practical joke or a camper had gotten lost on the path and was afraid to just approach me.
Either way, it was beginning to creep me out.
Dropping the bucket, I whipped around to confront whoever it was. A car alarm sounded somewhere in the distance and I turned toward the persistent honking. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bushes at the water’s edge rustle as if someone—or something—was moving through them.
“Hey!” I jumped to my feet and raced down to the beach. Skidding to a stop in the sand, I looked up and down the adjacent path, but it was empty. I stomped back up the hill, grabbed the bucket and replaced the cover on the pit. A daddy longlegs spider fell from my hair onto my cheek and I shrieked, doing the international freak out dance and spewing every cuss word I could think of and a few more I made up just for good measure.
It was going to be a long freaking day.
Chapter 8
By the time Dad and Aiden came back, orange and red streaks were chasing the sun down into the lake. They were both sun burnt and beaming with pride as they presented their prized catch to me: a string of fish almost as long as my arm. The worry and stress that had me in such a piss poor mood all day melted away at the sight of their grinning faces. Aiden told me about the size of the ‘braw, muckle beauty’ Dad had hooked but that had broken the line right before they’d reeled him into the boat. Dad tried to look humble, but failed miserably. A giggle bubbled up from within me and I wanted to hug them both even though they stunk like fish.
Dad asked Aiden to stay for dinner and partake of the bounty they’d supplied, but he declined, saying he needed to catch up on some rest after the fiasco with the skunk the night before. My face fell when he turned down the invitation since I hadn’t seen him all day, but he was gone before I had a chance to protest.
Dad cleaned the fish and cooked them on the woodstove, then made us each a plate. He made little noises of bliss with each bite and I had to laugh at him, though I was still reeling a bit from Aiden’s abrupt departure.
“So you guys had fun then?” I ventured, wanting some insight as to what they’d talked about, but Dad wasn’t giving it up.
“Yep, he’s a good kid. And a damn good fisherman at that, even if his methods are a little strange.” He didn’t elaborate, but let his eyes roll back in his head with the next forkful of flaky white heaven.
He read a magazine in his chair next to the fire before going to bed and I tried to concentrate on a book myself, but my thoughts kept coming back to Aiden. He’d barely said goodbye after they’d returned with the fish and I’d told myself all afternoon that at least I’d get to see him at dinnertime. So I was pouting, feeling lonely and sorry for myself, which irritated me because pouting is just childish and stupid. I mean, would it have killed him to stay for dinner?
Dad lifted an eyebrow at me over his magazine.
“Are you okay, Linds? You’re over there making faces.”
“I’m fine,” I spat, then changed my tone. “I’m fine,” I said again, softer this time.
“Ooookay,” he replied and went back to reading, muttering something that sounded like “women” under his breath.
I finally gave up on the book and said goodnight to Dad, then made my way upstairs to bed. Curled up in a ball, cold and alone in the dark, I wondered why Aiden had left so soon. I’d just pulled the covers up under my chin, trying to get warm, when I heard his voice in my head.
Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams.
My breath caught in my throat. I was glad he couldn’t see my lip quivering in response.
I missed you today, I sent back, hoping he couldn’t tell how whiny and pathetic I felt.
Ah chèrie, tu me manquais aussi. But you need to spend some time alone with your Da. I’m not going to come by tomorrow.
I bolted upright in the bed as if he’d just stuck me with a hot poker.
What? Why? I didn’t care anymore if I sounded like a petulant child. I would not go another day without him. Period. His soft chuckle reverberated in my head.
I told you, lass. Your Da came to see you, not me, and I’ll not take that away from him. Just one day, then I’ll come by again. I promise.
I wanted to scream, to kick my feet and demand that he change his mind, but he was right. And that only made it worse. There was nothing I could do but to suffer through another day, not knowing where he was, not being able to see him or touch him. It shouldn’t have mattered; I should have been able to go a week without him. I was a strong, independent woman, for crying out loud! I hated this needy side of myself. What was wrong with me? I was just so freaking worried that something was going to go wrong and I wouldn’t be there to fix it, to help him. Everything was out of my control and it was making me insane.
Aiden’s earlier words came back to me: “Once you let go of trying to control it yourself, there’s extraordinary freedom to be found.”
Dad came shuffling up the stairs and I turned to face the wall so he couldn’t see the tear sliding down my cheek. I felt his lips brush the back of my head.
“Goodnight, pumpkin. I love you.” He stroked my hair and then crawled into his own bed, reaching out to pull the chain on the bedside lamp. In the darkness of the room, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to let go of my frustration.
Fine, one day. But that’s all.
Just one day, I promise. Oidhche mhath, mo chridhe.
I wished him goodnight as well, then buried my head in the pillow, willing sleep to come quickly.
~
Dad took me out on the speedboat the next day, since it was hot and sunny with barely a cloud in the sky. He pulled me behind him on the inner tube, craning his neck to watch me as he drove, like he’d done a thousand times before when I was growing up. It was strange not having Mom with us and I could tell he felt it, too, though neither of us acknowledged her absence. A couple of times, he acted as if she were there but then caught himself with a small, sad smile and a shake of his head. We pulled the boat onto an empty stretch of beach and set up a couple of chairs and an umbrella. I hauled out the cooler and handed him a sandwich and a beer. He popped the top, took a long drink, then sighed contentedly.
Peace settled over me like the glassy blue stillness of the lake. As much as I hated to admit it, Aiden was right that I needed to spend some time alone with my dad. Between the divorce and the six months I spent grieving the loss of Aiden, Dad and I hadn’t had any time to just hang out. It was… nice.
Munching on my sandwich and chips, I caught him smiling at me out of the corner of my eye.
“What?” I quirked my eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head and looked away. “What are you up to?” I asked. This time, he laughed out loud but then struggled to paint an innocent look on his face.
“Nothing. What makes you say that?”
“Dad…” The warning tone in my voice only made him laugh harder and he ran into the lake in an exaggerated attempt to avoid my question. He grabbed the inner tube and climbed into it, then turned his face to the sun. I threw a rock at him, missing him by a good six feet.
“You’re a good cook, Linds, but you throw like a girl. I never could help you there. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”
&nbs
p; With a squeal of outrage, I splashed into the lake after him. I swam underneath the inner tube and overturned it, dumping him into the water. He came up laughing, wiping the water from his eyes and I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
He headed back to the beach after a brief swim and plopped down on the chair, dried his hands on a towel and resumed his lunch. I followed suit and we ate in silence for a while, soaking up the sun and the serenity of the lake view with the tree-covered mountains beyond.
My mind floated back to Aiden, wishing he were here, swimming in the lake, with his hair slicked back and the water rolling over his bare chest. My thoughts must have shown on my face because Dad cleared his throat and ran a hand through his wet hair.
“I know I embarrassed you both the other night…” he started apologetically, but his tone turned defensive before I had a chance to say anything in response. “But you deserved it. You shouldn’t be sleeping together unless you’re married.” A little smile crept into his voice at the end but he kept on.
“Dad…” I started to protest, but he waved a hand in dismissal.
“Now, now, don’t get upset. I just wanted you to know that I like Aiden a lot. And,” he gave me a fatherly look and patted my hand, “he makes you happy, I can tell. And that’s good enough for me.”
I got up and hugged him, not knowing what to say.
“You’re looking a little pink there. You might want to put on some more sunscreen,” he said, referring to the blush on my cheeks. I smacked him out of principle, but he just laughed.
The sun was going down by the time we got back to the cabin and I ran upstairs to change out of my swimsuit before starting dinner. When Dad asked if Aiden was going to join us, my happy bubble burst at the thought of him alone in the woods. I shook my head as I pulled a bag of penne pasta out of the cupboard, trying to sound more nonchalant than I felt.
“No, he wanted to give us some time alone. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
