A Season of Love

by Kim Watters

  Clicking into each individual teacher’s highlighted name, she stared at the number of missing or incomplete assignments. More caged butterflies begged to be released from her stomach. “But he’s done them. I know he has. Why hasn’t he turned them in?”

  Holly dropped her head into the palms of her hands. Where did I go wrong, Lord?

  Sometimes she felt so alone.

  It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Her clenched hands banged down on the spot on the counter where the stain had worn away over the years and rattled the pens. God was supposed to be there for her. So where was He? She’d been reaching out again, but even He abandoned her. Why did she even bother? She knew the answer. Cameron. And maybe, just maybe, despite it all, a small piece of her still believed.

  If God wouldn’t talk to her, she knew someone who would. Holly picked up the phone and dialed Kristen. While she waited for her friend to answer, Holly cradled the receiver and picked up the pen holder her son had made for her in first grade. She ran her fingers along the ripples of the old soup can where he’d glued a hand-drawn stick figure of Santa along with colorful wrapping paper to cover the tin. Another speck of paint chipped off the bottom, reminding her that nothing lasted forever. Nothing. With stiff fingers, she brushed it to the floor and set the pen holder back by the register.

  “What’s up, girlfriend?” a breathless Kristen answered. In the background, Holly heard her friend’s three-year-old banging on what sounded like a pot. She winced at the noise, remembering those days well. Her friend sounded flustered.

  “Nothing. Sounds like you’re busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you. Wait a second till I plant the kids in front of the TV for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” Holly twisted the phone cord until the room grew silent, her gaze wandering outside the large storefront window, and caught sight of a dead leaf clinging to a branch, yet fluttering helplessly in the breeze. Holly knew how the leaf felt, if it had that ability. Hold on, little fella. You can do it. But seconds later, a gust tore the leaf from its mooring and carried it away.

  Holly refused to suffer the same fate. Unlike the leaf, her destiny wasn’t so short-lived, and despite closing the shop at the end of the year, she’d make things work out. She’d also figure out how to deal with her son and get his grades back up.

  “I’m back. So what’s wrong?” Kristen asked.

  Holly’s confidence faded, though, as she stared at the computer screen again and pushed the print icon.

  “Cam’s about ready to fail this semester.”

  “Uh-oh. What do you mean?”

  “I just checked his grades. They’ve gone down since last week. He’s not turning in his homework. There’s only four weeks left, and I don’t know if he can bring them back up to A’s and B’s or if he even wants to. His attitude really stinks right now.”

  “But I thought that Ethan was making sure his homework was done before Cam worked with the dogs.”

  “He is, and I check Cam’s agenda and work almost every night.” Holly twirled a section of hair around her finger. At this rate, she’d have a bald spot by Christmas. “I’ve been so worried about the store and keeping a roof over Cam’s head that I’ve failed him. I don’t know my son anymore, and that hurts worst of all.”

  “You haven’t failed him, Holly. This is just one of those stages. He’s about to hit his teen years. Something else is going on. Go talk to Ethan. You need to get this taken care of right away. Just give me a few minutes to pack the kids in the car and I’ll be right over to watch the shop.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Yes, you can. Tony’s at work and dinner’s in the Crock-Pot. The kids love ’Tis Always the Season. It’ll give them a change of scenery. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Holly pulled up slowly to Ethan’s house and saw both the man and the dog Bear walking up the middle of the driveway. Catching him unawares gave her a few moments to study him. Ethan was taller than Jared but had the same slim build. His hair was a bit darker, and now that it was growing out from the military cut, she noticed the curls. But that wasn’t what made her pull her bottom lip between her teeth.

  His slumped shoulders and slow gait as he glanced through the mail that he’d retrieved from his mailbox spoke of a man with his own set of problems and worries. She knew the feeling well and found herself wanting to put her hand in his and squeeze gently to let him know he wasn’t alone, but that would place her in an emotional position she didn’t want to be in. She had enough to deal with already, and putting herself back out there would only lead to more pain.

  She pulled up next to him, rolled down her window and then breathed in the cool, crisp air, laden with another hint of winter. “Hi, Ethan.”

  “Holly?” A surprised Ethan glanced up from the stack of mail. “What are you doing here?” Creases formed between his eyes, and his lips curved downward, accentuating his five-o’clock shadow as he leaned through the window. “Cameron’s not coming?”

  “He said he was, but I’m not sure anymore.” Holly swallowed and managed to keep the emotion from her voice. Breaking down in front of Ethan was not an option. Not when she knew he’d put her first. They were friendly to each other because of Cameron and the store, nothing more, despite the fact her heartbeat accelerated a bit, like it was doing right now. With all her other distractions, she hadn’t really noticed how handsome he was. Well, maybe she had just a little.

  Her gaze drifted to his right hand. Even that didn’t bother her quite as much as before, yet as he stared down where she’d looked moments earlier, she knew he hadn’t forgotten her reaction to his injury.

  “What’s going on?” The frown still tugged at his lips.

  “I’d like to show you something. Hang on.” She placed the car in Park, unbuckled the seat belt and turned off the ignition. After Ethan moved away from the door, she grabbed her purse and stepped out, glad her friend had convinced her to see him. Kristen was right. Since Ethan monitored Cam’s homework before her son could work with the dogs, he had a vested interest in his grades. If they didn’t improve, Holly would stop the arrangement.

  He held up his mail. “Let’s go inside. My hands are a bit full.” Once Ethan dumped the stack on the kitchen table, he turned to Holly. “What did you want to show me?”

  “Cam’s grades. I pulled them off the grade portal.” She gave him the paper and set her fists on her hips. Inhaling sharply, she caught the scent of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies and dog. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  Ethan’s brow furrowed even more as he rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes widened and his lips pursed. “I don’t, either.” His gaze captured hers, pulling more oxygen from her lungs. The sincere tone of his voice told her more than his words. “He has done his homework.”

  “I know he has. I check almost nightly.” Holly sank into the kitchen chair and rested her forehead against her palm. The confusion in her stomach went north and created havoc in her brain. Something had changed between them Saturday, and despite what her brain wanted, her feelings and emotions wanted something else. Or to at least explore the possibilities. Her blood chilled as she stared up at the man who’d suddenly made her want things again.

  “Something else must be going on.”

  “But what?”

  Ethan glanced at his watch as he strode around the cramped room. “If Cameron is coming here, we’ll know in about five minutes. If he doesn’t show up, then it may take a bit longer, because we’ll have to go find him.”

  Holly appreciated his words. Maybe that was why she’d come here in the first place. She could have dealt with the situation with her son at home and over the phone with Ethan. And yet, she’d wanted to see him, talk to him, just be near him.

  “Would y
ou like a chocolate-chip cookie? Fresh out of the oven.” Ethan changed the subject and held out a blue plastic plate.

  Her stomach growled at the tantalizing smell, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, her lunch still in the mini refrigerator at the store. “You baked them?”

  “I’m crushed that you think I’m helpless in the kitchen. I can bake. Sort of.” He gave her a slight grin. “Okay, so I used a package from the refrigerated section, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

  “Of course. I’d love one. All I need now is a glass of milk.” Add her grandmother’s lilac scent and she’d be transported back to the simpler days of her childhood.

  “That can be arranged.” Ethan set the plate down in front of her and pulled three glasses from the cabinet. Then he retrieved the milk and poured some into two of the glasses. “I’ll pour Cameron’s when he gets here.”

  Holly bit into the warm cookie and let the chocolate burst across her tongue. How long had it been since she’d had the time to do something as simple as baking cookies? Too long. Since before Jared’s death. She hadn’t even cheated by using a frozen or refrigerated package from the store like Ethan did. These days she relied on packaged cookies from the store shelves for Cam’s lunches.

  She stared as Ethan dunked his in the milk first and then took a bite. “What? This is the only way to eat them.”

  “You know, I like milk and chocolate-chip cookies, just not together like that. I don’t even like root-beer floats, but I do like root beer and vanilla ice cream separately.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” He popped the rest of it into his mouth. “Sometimes we even put in cream soda or, my personal favorite, orange soda. It tasted just like those things we used to buy from the ice-cream man who drove around the neighborhood every weekend.”

  “The ice-cream man. Wow. I haven’t thought of him for years. They used to have someone who drove around during the summer, but I haven’t seen him lately.” Holly savored another bite. “These are pretty good for not making your own dough. I remember making chocolate-chip cookies from scratch with my grandmother. She was a traditionalist. We even sifted the flour before we put it in.”

  “Yeah, my grandmother was like that, too. There’s something to be said about the time before cell phones, three hundred television channels and handheld computer games.”

  The sound of footsteps clomping up the back steps caught her attention right before the back door opened and Cameron careened inside. “Mom? What are you doing here? Who’s watching the store?”

  Ethan took a step back and busied himself with pouring a glass of milk.

  “Kristen is at the shop right now. There’s something I need to discuss with you, and it couldn’t wait until after dinner. I pulled a copy of your current grades off-line this afternoon. Is there something we need to talk about?”

  Cam refused to make eye contact and kicked the floor with the toe of his shoe. “No.”

  “Then how do you explain your grades?”

  “Can I go see the dogs, Mr. P.?”

  “No.” Ethan glanced at Holly as he set the milk and the cookies on the table. If he had to choose an adjective or two, he’d describe her as vulnerable and lost. Not a good combination, because it brought out that need to protect her again. “You need to answer your mother. I won’t tolerate any disrespect, remember?”

  Cameron glanced at him before he exploded on his mother. “Fine. I hate school. I hate homework. And sometimes I even hate you. I wish you had died instead of Dad.”

  “What?” Holly gasped and sank back in her seat. All color fled her cheeks, and shock pulled her jaw open. Tears gathered in her eyes, causing Ethan’s instincts to overload. He had to get a handle on this situation before it spiraled further out of control.

  “Sit down.” Ethan yanked out a chair. The boy needed some heavier intervention and fast. He seethed. Where had Cameron learned this type of behavior? No one should ever be on the receiving end of those words. “You will never speak to your mother like that. Do you understand me?”

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Holly clench her fingers and stand. “I can handle this, Ethan. Cameron, put your backpack on. We’re going home.”

  “But I don’t wanna go home.” Cameron flew into his mother’s arms. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it. I love you. It’s just so hard—”

  Holly cradled him back. “I know, sweetie. I know. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you like I should have been. Like I should be. Why don’t you come back to the shop and do your homework there, like the old days? Just me and you and some hot chocolate.”

  “Because I like it here. I like the dogs. I like Mr. P. I want to come here after school.”

  “Then what’s going on with your grades, Cam? They’re all C’s and D’s.”

  The boy remained silent.

  “When I opened up each subject, most of your homework was missing. You did it all. I know because I checked it. What did you do with it?”

  The only sound in the room was their breathing and the whining of the kenneled dogs.

  “I think I know what’s happening.” Ethan paced the small area. Someone was bullying Cameron. The accusation would be a strong one, but he wasn’t about to let Holly and Jared’s son flunk seventh grade. “Patrick’s been taking your work and turning it in as his own, hasn’t he?”

  The boy held his mother tighter. Ethan captured Holly’s tortured gaze, her pale skin and large eyes. Knots twisted his gut as he wrestled with what decision to make. He’d been wrong before, couldn’t trust his own judgment half the time, yet somehow he knew he wasn’t wrong about this.

  “I bet he also told you that if you told anyone, he’d beat you up. What’s Patrick’s last name?” A sinking feeling developed in the pit of his stomach. There’d been a similar incident between some boys when he’d been in middle school.

  “Dennison.”

  “And I bet his dad’s name is William.” His feelings were justified. “Did it happen again today?”

  Cameron shook his head. “There was no homework last weekend. I tried to stay away from him today after what happened Saturday night, but he followed me around. He wouldn’t leave me alone and kept calling me names.”

  “I’ll go talk to your principal tomorrow, Cam. I won’t allow this to continue.” Holly kissed the top of his head.

  A look of relief flitted across her son’s face. “Will you go, too, Mr. P.? Principal Buchanan is mean and old. He might scare my mom.”

  “Cameron. Mr. Buchanan and I get along fine.”

  “Please? I want him to go, Mom. He is the one helping me with my homework.”

  “Is that what you want?” Pain laced her voice and deepened the green of her eyes.

  When Cameron nodded, Ethan caught the adulation on Cameron’s face as he glanced at him. By her sharp intake of air, he realized Holly caught it, too. When Ethan had come up with the idea of Cameron helping out with the dogs, he’d never intended for the boy to bond with him. Holly’s son needed to find a different father figure, one who could keep him safe. “This is something your mom needs to take care of, Cameron.”

  “Please?”

  Great. Being manipulated by a twelve-year-old was a bit unnerving. “Only if she wants me to.”

  “Please, Mom?”

  “If that’s what you want and if Mr. Pellegrino is free, then he can come with me.”

  Ethan was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one feeling cornered. “Let’s see what you’ve got for homework today. After you’re done, I’ve decided that instead of working around here, I’ll take you out to the real sanctuary and show you around. Holly, you’re welcome to join us unless you need to go back to the shop.”

  “I’d like that. Let me ask Kristen if she can close up.”

 
“But what about everything we have to do?”

  “You do your homework, Cam, and I’ll do your chores so we can leave as soon as possible. I think after a day like today, we all need to have a little break.” Holly glanced over Cameron’s head at him, her expression closed just a fraction.

  In that moment, he realized that Holly had interpreted her son’s wants correctly and she wanted to keep them from spending too much time together alone. It was as if they were a family, not too different from the one he’d established with his patrol back in the Middle East. The kitchen shrank under the weight of the responsibility he wasn’t sure he wanted. Because then he had to protect them. But could he when he didn’t even trust that he could protect himself?

  * * *

  “This is it. The final home for Beyond the Borders Dog Sanctuary.” Ethan turned off the county highway and into the long, winding driveway defined by tall ash, sycamore and pine trees. Swatches of fall color still clung to the remaining leaves, and a hint of smoke from a neighbor’s fireplace drifted through the air. Last week’s snow had melted but had left muddy patches in the ruts where the gravel had disappeared over the years.

  “Wow. It’s beautiful,” Holly marveled. “It’s hard to believe we’re only fifteen minutes from town.”

  “Do you get a lot of deer out here?”

  “Deer, elk and an occasional cougar or bear.” At Holly’s soft gasp, Ethan leaned over and patted her hand. Mistake. He found himself wanting to hold it, which would be impossible. Her hand moved under his, bringing back the memory of her revulsion of his injuries. He pulled away. “Don’t worry. It’s been a while since we’ve seen any other wildlife besides rabbits and coyotes.”

  At the last bend in the driveway, the old two-story farmhouse came into view. A fresh coat of white paint covered the wood siding, and the dark red shutters on either side of the four windows complemented the front door. Two benches and a rocking chair graced the porch running the entire front of the house, and an empty birdbath added a homier feel to the home Ethan’s great-grandfather had built.