As Tommy rowed, Lee felt like someone from another time, as if she should be dressed in a long lace gown and carrying a frilly umbrella. She loved it, this way he had of making her feel taken care of, like a treasure. He opened doors for her. He handed her a towel when she came out of the shower. His hand rested on the small of her back when they walked together. Just now he’d helped her into the boat, holding her hand and guiding her onto the bench. So much for feminism, she’d thought. It was nice, after the difficulty of Dan, to let go, to let Tommy take care of things, even if it was just the simple act of rowing her across the water.
At the deepest part of the river Lee looked down into the ever darkening shades of green. There was no discernable bottom. Lee shivered despite the warm sun. They neared a large gray rock scattered with moss and the mineral deposits left from evaporated rain. It jutted from the surface of the water like the head of a hippopotamus.
After they reached the sandy side of the river and departed the boat, Lee stood ankle deep, feeling the fine sand sifting between her toes, and watched with apprehension as Tommy waded up to his waist. He turned to her, his wet shorts clinging to his lean frame. “You ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.” He motioned for her to come deeper into the water.
She moved towards him, gasping a little at how cold it felt on her hot skin, wading in past her knees and then her waist. When she reached him he held both her hands in his.
“You alright?” he said.
She answered yes, thinking it was now or never, and let him gently guide her onto her back, closing her eyes to block out the bright light of the sun, ready for his instruction. One hand was under her legs, the other under her back, so that she was almost nestled against his stomach. She held her body stiff, her neck slightly bent and tense, ready to put her feet on the ground if he let go. “Just allow yourself to relax and pretend like you’re a board,” he said. “I won’t let go until you tell me you’re ready.”
Her eyes were screwed shut as she tried to imagine herself as a relaxed board. But the harder she worked on it the more tense she became. She opened her eyes. “I can’t do it.”
His brown eyes looked down at her. “You can. Think of a time when you were totally relaxed, totally happy. Picture yourself there again.”
She closed her eyes. Several weeks ago that would have been difficult but now she thought of the night before. After dinner, she and Tommy had watched the stars from his patio, side by side on the chaise lounge. It had been clear and warm, the fir and pine trees next to his house rustling in the slight breeze. She had a soft blanket wrapped around her legs, the fresh dry air touching her bare arms and face. The stars scattered across the sky dazzled so that they seemed close, like a high ceiling instead of light years away. Tommy reached over and took her hand in his and they stayed like that, gazing upward, for several minutes. She’d let herself have the moment without guilt or worry, had allowed herself to feel safe.
Thinking of it now, she felt her muscles unclench and she relaxed. She began to feel the water as a surface, like a soft cot, there to support and restore her. She felt Tommy’s arms relax a little too. “You ready for me to move away?” he said.
“I guess.”
He backed away a few inches and then removed his arms from under her. She was floating. She opened her eyes, turning her head to look at him. “Hey, I’m doing it.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt herself go under. She put her feet against the small stones and pebbles as she jerked out of the water. She coughed and sputtered, wiping her eyes with her hands.
Tommy grinned at her. “You did it.”
“For about a second.”
He instructed her to try again and this time to stay still until she felt him next to her again. She leaned back into the water but found her feet unwilling to leave the bottom. He scooped under her legs and held her until she indicated she was ready for him to let go. This time she floated for a long moment before he was next to her again. They practiced eight more times before he wrapped her legs around him and walked with her to the dry sand of the beach. They plopped down on beach towels next to one another, under his blue and white striped umbrella. “You did well,” he said. “I told you it wasn’t so hard.”
She put on a straw beach hat and sunglasses, resting under the shade of the umbrella while he rummaged in the small ice chest. Handing her a bottle of water, he said, “Tomorrow I can show you how to blow bubbles.” Then he began to play with the left thigh string of her one-piece bathing suit. His eyes half closed in that look she knew already from the week they spent together.
She scooted closer to him, putting her hand on his stomach. “So far swimming lessons are good,” she said.
“Told you.”
* * *
They couldn’t keep their hands from one another. Every free moment they were together it was the pulling of clothes, grabbing and caressing of skin and hair. Sometimes they couldn’t even get free of their clothes before they were intertwined, in every spot of Tommy’s house, before breakfast, after lunch, before Tommy’s gigs, in the middle of the night.
A week went by and then another. In between planning for the restaurant, she would think of him and hurry to finish the day’s work to rush to his house. They developed a pattern where they worked during the days and met in the late afternoons at his house for her swimming lesson. After the lesson they would make dinner together and if he didn’t have a gig to go to in the evenings, she stayed the night. After several weeks she brought a few clothing items over, going home every other day to check on the progress at her house. She knew she was getting involved too soon, and too deeply, but she couldn’t make herself stop.
One afternoon on his couch he made her cry out twice before he let himself go. Afterwards, they lay together, half clothed, still flushed. He played with her hair. “Do you want to stay at your house sometime? We don’t always have to be here.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” That afternoon she had stopped by to see the progress and was amazed to see Joshua up on a ladder painting the ceiling of the living room. Joshua had explained, gesturing with his wet paintbrush at the old floors, “Better to paint before I put the new floors down.” She’d chosen a soft yellow called “Butter” for the living room and a beige named “Eggnog” for the foyer, stairwell, and upstairs hallway. “Better on your walls than in your fridge,” she’d said to Joshua.
Now, she ran her finger along Tommy’s lower lip, thinking how even with the cosmetic changes to the house, it was still stacked with memories better left covered. “Paint fumes are pretty strong. It’s better to stay here.”
“Whatever you say.”
* * *
Weeks went by and Tommy taught her how to blow bubbles, rhythmic breathing, and a basic flutter kick and paddle stroke. On the afternoon of her twentieth week of pregnancy, she sat on a beach towel under the umbrella working on a list of items still left to do before the grand opening of Riversong.
To do:
Negotiate terms with local produce farmers
Develop a marketing plan
Meet with the local art group about the rotating shows
Hire staff
Just then she heard Tommy yell from the other side of the river and looked up to see him dive into the water and swim towards her. In less than a minute he stood at the edge of her blanket, shaking the water from his hair. He plopped beside her, looking like a child at the ice cream shop. “Did you see the doc?” he asked.
“I did.”
“Well, is it a boy or a girl?”
She closed her notebook, stretching her legs out on the blanket. “I didn’t find out.”
His face changed in a way she couldn’t decipher. “You didn’t find out?”
“I couldn’t decide if I wanted to or not. Then I was in the ultrasound and the doctor asked if I wanted to know and suddenly I didn’t want to know.” She laughed. “It was the strangest thing.”
&nb
sp; He looked away, made circles in the sand with a twig. “Everything okay, though?”
“Yeah. Everything’s good.”
Tommy broke the twig in two, threw one piece into the water. “Measurements all on track? Weight gain good? Any signs of problems?”
“Nothing,” she said. “We going to have a lesson?”
He looked at her, his face blank. “What’s that?”
“A lesson. A swimming lesson?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He got up and waded into the water.
She followed him, calling out. “Tommy, is something wrong?”
“Not a thing.” His voice sounded tight, almost monotone.
“You have to work tonight?”
He shook his head, no. He turned away, picking up a rock from the river bottom and chucking it up the river.
She kept her voice light. “You never said whether you thought I should find out or not.”
He shrugged, staring across the river. “You never asked.”
She smiled, teasing. “That doesn’t usually stop you from having an opinion.”
His eyes were hooded. “I don’t get to have an opinion. I’m not the father. Isn’t that right?”
“Tommy, I’m sorry.” She watched old grief play across his face. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I know.”
He turned towards her then. “Lee, promise me that if you leave you’ll let me know.”
Suddenly she felt a sensation in her lower stomach like butterflies. She reached for him. “Tommy, I think I just felt the baby move for the first time.”
He strode through the water, putting his hand on her stomach. “Really?”
She put her hand on top of his and whispered, “Yes, it’s just like they say in the books. Like bubbles or butterflies.”
They stood like that for a moment until Lee said, “I’m glad you were here for it.”
His eyes glistened and then he hugged her, holding her tightly against his wet body. “Me too.”
Chapter 19
Lee collapsed on a blanket at Ellen’s swimming hole, the river water beading on her sunscreened skin. She squeezed water from her hair, at her shoulders now, and perched her sunhat over her face, closing her eyes. She smiled, hearing Alder’s body hitting the water as he jumped from a rock and then the splashing of his arms and legs swimming through the water. He called out to the yellow Labrador puppy playing at the shore. “Sunshine, come here, girl.”
Ellen brought Alder and Sunshine to the river every afternoon while Lee and Annie worked. Watching Ellen and Alder interact over the last several months, Lee couldn’t help but fill with sadness, thinking of the mother Ellen must have been and the unspeakable tragedy of her loss.
The midsummer air was hot and dry. The sun’s rays felt as if they were healing some broken part of her as she lay there, thinking of nothing, swatting the air to thwart a buzzing dragonfly from resting on her hat. Down closer to the river were Ellen and Annie, their feet in the water, chatting amiably together. It was a rare day off for them all, after two months of intense focus on the building and planning of Riversong. The restaurant would open in five weeks. Four weeks had gone by since she first felt the flutter of her baby and in that time her stomach seemed to have doubled in size. Annie called it “the pop.” It had popped alright, she thought. She wondered if it would ever pop back in?
She heard the crunch of rocks, lifted her hat, and saw four feet, two with white socks and tennis shoes, and two brown feet in Tevas. She removed her hat to see Verle walking toward the others and Tommy peering down at her. She knew at once he was agitated because he was rubbing the scar on his cheek.
He plopped next to her and caressed the side of her arm with his finger. “I hope you have sunscreen on.”
“Twice now.” She sat up. Her stomach practically reached her knees, she thought, wishing she’d worn a t-shirt instead of the maternity swimming suit that left nothing to the imagination. She shielded the sun with her hand. “Thought you had rehearsal?”
“Cancelled.” Tommy took off his shirt and Lee resisted the urge to touch his lean, hairless stomach.
She sat up and reached for her sunglasses as he lay beside her, turning on his side and resting his head in the palm of his hand. She thought of his music, how sad some of the songs were and how his rich voice could make her want to weep.
“You remember the twitchy guy?” said Tommy. “Zac’s buddy?”
Lee watched Alder and Sunshine try to capture a minnow from the school that swam together in the sandy shallow water along the river’s edge. “How could I forget?”
“They found him and Deana dead in her trailer last night. Stabbed to death. Rumor is, tweekers gone crazy fighting over drugs.” He sat up and moved closer to her, arms around his knees. She felt the heat radiating from his skin but her lips had gone numb.
“Do they think Zac was involved?” she said.
“No way to know for sure except to say he supplied the drugs at some point. I saw him stumble out of the Squeaky Wheel just now, barely recognized him. Skinny, like he’s sampling the wares.” He spoke in almost a whisper. “I don’t want you at the restaurant alone. If he’s taking that crap, I don’t trust him not to go crazy.”
“Annie’s there with me most of the time.”
“I’m picking you guys up when you work late, and you’re staying nights with me.”
“Like I don’t already?” For weeks now, she stayed with him almost every night in a false domesticity. They ate together, slept together, and stayed up late into the night talking. Last week she allowed him to take her to the monthly pregnancy checkup but made him wait in the lobby. Sometimes she felt that her old life was a dream and this new one with Tommy, her growing stomach and the building of Riversong, was the real one. Since the evening of Annie’s dinner party she and Tommy formed an unplanned silent agreement to leave the subject of the future, in particular their future, alone. It was there anyway, under the surface of conversations and in the look of longing on Tommy’s face when he didn’t know she watched him and especially in the desperate way they made love like it could be their last time, each time.
“Zac shows up at the restaurant, I want you to call me immediately,” said Tommy.
“He hasn’t shown since the day he threatened me.” She glanced around at the others. Verle sat next to Annie, a sandwich in his hand as Ellen dug in the ice chest.
“Maybe I should pay him a visit, make sure he knows to stay away.”
“Are you out of your mind? Do you know how dangerous he is?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, and I’m not afraid of him. Should I tell you some of the details of my youth?” He sat up and rubbed his scar, with the same injured look he had when he talked about his brother.
“Regardless, Mike wants him at the restaurant.” She picked up a smooth pebble from the sand next to the blanket and rubbed it with her thumb.
“Mike needs a reality check.”
“Tommy, Mike’s the owner. If he wants Zac there, I have to let him.”
He sat up and kicked the sand with his foot. “I do not want him anywhere near you, do you understand?”
“How am I supposed to stop him?”
“Dammit, Lee, that’s the point.”
“You can’t protect me from everything, even if you wanted to.”
He went still and studied her. “What else do you need protection from?”
“It’s just an expression.” She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, brushing sand off her legs. “Let’s not fight when I feel like a cow.”
He appeared to want to say something more, but instead ran a sandy hand through his hair, the gray bits sticking between his dark wavy strands. He rested his other hand on the roundness of her stomach. “It’s starting to look like a big basketball. Come swim with me. The water will make you feel light.”
He stood and pulled her next to him. She followed him into the water, the sand soft on the bottoms of her toes. They waded t
o their waists and when he drew her to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. They floated together, drifting on the surface, the cool water lapping alongside them. “I love this river,” she said to Tommy, putting her lips on his warm neck. “You know that?”
“I do.” He kissed the side of her face and brought her closer to him.
With Tommy and the river water next to her skin, she surprised herself by thinking how good life would be if it were just the threat of Zac that worried her. As she rested her head on Tommy’s shoulder and absorbed heat from his brown skin, it was the danger of DeAngelo that lurked alongside this tranquility, like an illness in remission, affecting everything with its subtle dread.
* * *
The next afternoon Tommy convinced her to take a much-needed nap at his house. She awakened to paint fumes and found Tommy in his spare bedroom painting a crib, headphones from his iPod in his ears, humming along with the music. She stood in the doorway, watching his strong hand brushing the white paint on the slats of unfinished wood. After a few moments, she turned from the doorway and walked to the bathroom. She turned on the water and sat on the shower floor, face in her hands, weeping without making a sound.
* * *
The next day, a Monday, in a moment of uncertainty about the restaurant and a pang of nostalgia for Linus, she bought a disposable phone and texted her friend. “I’ve been fine. Miss you. Call if safe.” She received no response the rest of Monday and regretted sending it, wondering if it jeopardized her safety, if by some chance Von had intercepted it and traced it to her. All that night she lay awake next to Tommy, sweating and fretting that Von might show up at any moment. The next morning she sat across from Tommy at his breakfast table, picking at a cheese omelet. She felt him observing her in the way he did, intuiting something was amiss. “You tired this morning?”
The River Valley Series Page 21
