By Summer's End

by Pamela Morsi

  I vowed then and there to spend as much time possible getting her to talk about Sonny Leland. We had dozens of photo albums to go through and a million questions I’d never had anybody to ask. It was the perfect solution to distracting her from Dawn. And it was something that I really wanted, as well.

  As the days passed, I saw that it was working pretty well. I was pleased with myself and the good I was doing. I was learning all kinds of cool stuff about my dad and keeping Mrs. Leland distracted at the same time. I felt totally virtuous about that.

  At least I did until Del Tegge showed up to visit Mom.

  Usually he’d come over to talk to her when she was sitting on the front porch or in the shade of the back patio. But as the weather turned hotter and more humid, she hadn’t been sitting out much. The outside temperature was miserable. But inside with the air-conditioning made her cold. Mostly she wandered around in a baseball cap and a bulky sweater. She’d begun to vegetate in front of the TV with Sierra.

  When Del showed up at the front door, I was, at first glance, grateful that she had someone to talk to. Then I remembered what I’d told him and I worried. She was very tired. Maybe even too tired for a fight. But getting mad might not be all that good for her. What if she used up all her available energy telling the curious neighbor where to go. She could just collapse like a house of cards.

  She offered him a cup of tea and they went into the kitchen together. I really felt like I couldn’t leave them alone. I needed to follow them into the kitchen, but I couldn’t think of any reason to be in there. I knew it would look stupid if I just walked in and sat down with them.

  I did it anyway.

  They both looked at me curiously, but neither were unwelcoming. In fact, I was sort of the center of the conversation.

  “I guess you’re looking forward to the new school year, making friends and all that,” Del said.

  Mom looked at me and smiled. “Sierra’s the one who’s keen on the social life,” she said. “My Dakota is happy with a good book.”

  Del nodded. “The more cerebral type, she is,” he agreed. “But everybody wants to make friends.”

  I knew he was thinking about my conversation with him. I didn’t want him to be remembering that. I didn’t want him to start doing what I’d told him. I wanted to divert him.

  “Vern and I have been making fractals,” I said.

  Mom looked puzzled. “Is that some math thing?” she asked. “Some kind of fractions?”

  “No, not exactly,” I told her. “It’s partly math and partly physics. It’s called chaos theory. It’s like how small changes just magnify and magnify until the outcomes are totally different.”

  “Oh,” Mom said, though she didn’t seem to really get it.

  Del was nodding. “We use it in studying environmental systems a lot,” he said.

  He began talking about his work. That was good. I knew he could go on and on about air and water and nature stuff while hardly taking a breath. He seemed to know as much about chaos as Vern and though he wasn’t as good a teacher, Mom seemed to pick up the thread of his explanation easily enough.

  “So we really postulate that chaos explains a lot in nature,” he said.

  “That’s really interesting,” Mom told him.

  “It is,” Del agreed. “These days a lot of behavioral scientists are looking at it, too. I don’t know all that much. My understanding of human response and adaptation is only about ankle deep. But I hear that they’re beginning to study things like war, political unrest and family or community dysfunction in the framework of chaotic systems.”

  “Really?” Mom said.

  “Yeah, and it makes a lot of sense just in speculating about shoring up unstable situations,” Del said. “I think we tend to look at huge problems like world peace or the AIDS epidemic and we think, ‘oh, this is so big there is nothing I can do.’ And what the concept of chaos suggests is that anything and everything affects the outcome, even doing nothing.”

  Mom gave him a long look. There was a teasing glint in her eye.

  “I hate to break this news to you, Del,” she said. “But the truth is, I don’t spend a lot of my time thinking about how I’m going to affect world peace.”

  He laughed.

  “Fair enough,” he told her. “It doesn’t hit my worry agenda as much as it should, either. But I know you must have your own issues.”

  “I guess my kids are my issue,” Mom said. “Right now, my kids and my cancer, that’s about all I have time to worry about.”

  Del nodded. “That’s a full plate,” he admitted. “But I’ve heard it said that getting involved, giving back, that can stretch your focus. It puts your own problems, serious as they are, into perspective.”

  “Getting involved? Giving back? What are you talking about?”

  “I just think there are a lot of young people in this town who are struggling,” he said. “I was thinking that you might—”

  “Let’s make popcorn!” I interrupted loudly.

  Mom and Del both looked at me, startled.

  “I’m starving,” I told them. “Let’s make some popcorn. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Mom said.

  “You need to eat,” I insisted. “That’s what the doctors say, Mom. They say that you need to eat.”

  “I don’t think they were talking about popcorn,” she replied with a chuckle.

  “Popcorn’s good for you,” I assured her. “What about you, Del, you want popcorn?”

  “Ah…sure,” he said. “If you pop it, I’ll eat it.”

  I stood up and then hesitated.

  “Aren’t you guys going to help me?”

  “Help you what?”

  “Help me make popcorn.”

  Mom looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “I don’t think you’re going to need much help to put a bag in the microwave,” she said.

  I was stuck. I’d managed to stop the conversation, but now I was going to have to get up and walk across the room. I thought about saying I’d changed my mind, but that would have looked way too suspicious. I decided my best option was to just keep talking, so I did.

  “Where is that microwave stuff?” I said, heading deliberately to a cabinet where I knew only dish-ware was kept.

  “It’s on the far side of the sink,” Mom said. “Second cabinet, probably the second shelf.” She turned back to Del. “What were you saying?”

  “I can’t find it,” I declared.

  Mom turned again. “The second cabinet,” she repeated.

  I opened it up. The box was at eye level right in front of me. “I don’t see it,” I said.

  “Good grief,” Mom said with a shake of her head and a good-natured sigh of exasperation. She got up and walked across the room, pulled the box out of the cabinet and handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said and then handed the box back to her as I walked over to the microwave.

  I thought if I forced her to be busy, then there was no way that she could talk with Del. I hadn’t counted on him getting up and coming over to help, as well.

  “Who knew it took three people to make microwave popcorn,” Mom said facetiously as she ripped open the little cellophane package.

  Del shrugged. “Hey, food just tastes better when there are lots of people involved.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why there are fast-food restaurants,” he joked.

  “No, I think that’s so those of us who didn’t go to college can have job prospects,” Mom replied.

  He chuckled.

  The corn began to pop and the bag was expanding. Mom got out a big bowl and set it next to me. I was secretly congratulating myself on having successfully changed the subject.

  Mom turned to Del curiously.

  “Now what were you saying about young people?” she asked him.

  “I was thinking that you might want to get involved in some community activity,” he said. “I know you’re used to
working, so you’ve got more time than usual on your hands.”

  “Well,” Mom said. “I’m getting to spend a lot of quality time with my girls for a while.”

  “That’s good,” Del agreed. “But they are going back to school in a few weeks. You’ll need something of your own to do.”

  Mom chuckled humorlessly.

  “Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma keeps me pretty busy,” she said.

  The popping in the microwave reached a crescendo and then abruptly dropped off to an occasional flurry.

  Del shook his head. “Hanging around here, just you and the cancer, that can’t be good for your mental health.”

  Mom agreed. “I’m sure that it’s not,” she told him. “But I can’t really hold down a job because of my chemo.”

  I took the popcorn out and began pouring it into the bowl.

  Del nodded. “You’ve got your appointments at the clinic,” he said. “And I know that some days you feel pretty crappy. But on the days you don’t, I was thinking that maybe you might want to do something for somebody else.”

  “Like who?”

  He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her.

  “‘CAVA of Knox County,’” Mom read aloud and then looked up at Del questioningly.

  “Court Appointed Volunteer Advocates,” he said. “I know somebody who participates in the program. It’s for kids in foster care.”

  “Mom, here, have some popcorn,” I said, anxiously pushing the bowl in her direction.

  She ignored me.

  “CAVA’s mission is to have an advocate for every child,” Del explained to her. “Someone to make sure that child doesn’t get lost in the system. I’m sure there’s something that you could do that wouldn’t take a full-time commitment.”

  Mom tried to hand him back the card. “I’m not interested,” she said.

  “My friend says there are five hundred children placed in foster care in this county every year,” Del said. “They need someone to speak for them.”

  “Not me,” Mom said. “I’m not the right person.”

  “Of course you are,” he told her. “Foster care was part of your life.”

  “A part I’ve put behind me,” Mom said.

  “You’re needed,” Del said. “Your experience is needed.”

  “My experience? All my experience was bad.”

  “And yet you’ve managed to make a success of life for yourself,” he said.

  Mom made a scoffing sound. “My life is successful?” Her tone was heavy with sarcasm.

  Del didn’t see the joke.

  “You work hard, support your children, pay your taxes. Isn’t that the definition of successful?”

  “We’re not staying here,” Mom told him. “We’re leaving this town as soon as I get my strength back.” She continued to hold out the card to him, trying to get Del to take it back.

  Instead he reached for the bowl of popcorn.

  SONNY DAYS

  23

  Sonny never had to testify. As soon as the company heard that he was willing to do so, they had an immediate crisis of conscience and wanted to do the right thing for Lonnie’s orphans. They managed to come up with a modest but helpful cash settlement that wouldn’t set any unmanageable precedents, as well as a scholarship fund so that all the Beale children would be able to attend college.

  Sonny was pleased about that. He felt good about his part in it. But his attention, by necessity, was focused on a new semester and a tough schedule of classes. When he wasn’t studying he was being a dad to his two little girls and exercising to regain full use of his leg.

  “I wish I knew how Tonya and her family were doing,” he said to Dawn in bed one night as he rubbed the scar on his chest. “I’ve got to make some time to go out and check on her and the kids.”

  “Do you want me to do it?” Dawn asked.

  Sonny was incredulous. “You’ve got as much to do as I have,” he pointed out.

  “The girls would love an outing,” she told him. “I could just get them all tucked in their car seats and drive over to Strawberry Plains. It would be good to get us out of the house for a while. And fun for me to talk to anyone who has a vocabulary of more than sixteen words and isn’t my mother-in-law.”

  Sonny laughed.

  “Thanks, Dawn,” he said. “I am not officially turning over my job of worrying about the Beales to you. You’ll let me know if it gets to be too much, right?”

  She agreed.

  The young Leland family settled into life with Sonny’s parents for a busy, productive and happy time. His interest was captured by his studies in a way that hadn’t been possible before his venture out into the real world. The safety and security of a roof over her head and good healthy meals seemed to enhance in Dawn a grace and strength that had previously gone unnoticed. The little daughters were practically princesses, with so many loving eyes upon them every day.

  Of course, no situation is perfect. Dawn and Phrona were never going to be close friends. Vern adored having the children around, but the constant noise and activity made it hard for him to work at home. And just the mere lack of privacy was hard on both couples.

  So it was with great pride of accomplishment as well as a tremendous sense of relief when three years later Sonny stood in Vols stadium, wearing cap and gown, and was officially granted a Bachelor of Science.

  Up in the bleachers, his lovely wife, two pretty preschoolers and his parents cheered him on.

  It was a pinnacle moment and Sonny felt fantastic. He already had a good job lined up with a multinational corporation doing forestry assessment and planning. It was going to mean good money and at last being able to provide for his family.

  After commencement they all went to dinner at Sonny’s favorite restaurant, Chesapeake’s. The lighting was low, the atmosphere subdued and linen tablecloths and the crystal glassware didn’t exactly give the impression of being a child-proof sort of place. But Sierra and Dakota, neat and pretty in their new dresses, were on their best behavior.

  He ordered both the crab cakes and the grouper. The little girls shared pasta and Dawn tasted lobster for the first time in her life.

  His father had brought in a bottle of wine and when it was served Vern stood and held up his glass.

  “I’d like to make a toast to my son, to his lovely wife and beautiful family,” he said. “Phrona and I are so proud of you. So grateful to have you as our son. And so glad that you brought Dawn and these children into our lives.”

  It was a tearful moment all around. Sonny got up to offer his own salute.

  “Dad, Mama, I don’t know how to begin to thank you,” he said. “And I don’t mean just because you’ve supported me and my family, paid my tuition and let us live with you. Those are all very big things and we are grateful. But what I want to thank you for is bigger than all that.”

  He took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts.

  “I don’t think I understood this until I became a father myself,” he said. “But now I think I do know, at least to some degree, what it must have felt for you to want only the best for me and to see me disregard your counsel, defy your wishes and throw your advice back into your face. It must have been disappointing, scary, frustrating, even insulting. I really hope that if or when that time comes in the life of my children I’ll behave with the same kind of grace, forgiveness and understanding that you’ve shown me.”

  His little girls applauded him. His parents tried to modestly disavow any laudable behavior on their part.

  “I know that I am a lucky man,” Sonny said. Unconsciously, he ran a hand across his scarred chest, as had become his habit. “Not only has my wife given me a happy home and two beautiful children, she’s stood by me, helped me, encouraged me to go after what I want in the world, including a college education. She’s done this even though it’s meant giving up a lot of the things she’s wanted. I acknowledge the sacrifices she’s made and vow to try to make it up to her for the rest of my life.”
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br />   He leaned forward and gave Dawn a kiss, then they clinked glasses all around.

  “Us, Daddy,” Sierra begged. “Drink something to us.”

  He laughed. “She inherited that attention thing from you,” Sonny said teasingly to Dawn.

  She feigned surprise. “I thought she got it from Phrona,” she said.

  The older woman was momentarily caught off guard, then laughed with everyone else.

  Sonny started his new job the very next week. And he gave to Dawn the task of finding someplace for them to live. He knew she was excited about the prospect of their own place. He also knew he could trust her to make a good deal, to consider the neighborhood school and stay within their budget.

  “Whatever, wherever,” he told her. “If you want to live there, then the kids and I want to live there with you.”

  He expected to come home the first week and find his things already packed and a new key for his pocket. That didn’t happen. Day after day, Dawn went out looking at properties and found nothing she really liked. It had been over three weeks and nothing quite suited her.

  “Is the budget too tight?” Sonny asked. “Can we not find what we need in our price range?”

  Dawn shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it,” she told him. “The truth is, some of these places are very nice. And all of them have more space than we’ve been used to. It’s just…I don’t know. They are not quite the home that I want for the girls.”

  “It isn’t like we’re going to live there all our lives,” Sonny said. “We just need a little starter place.”

  “I know,” Dawn said. “And I’ll know the right place when I see it.”

  It was only a few nights later when his mother decided to put in her three cents’ worth.

  “The McManns are moving,” she announced over dinner.

  “Really?” Vern sounded surprised. “Finally decided to do it, did they? They’ve been talking about it for years.”

  “The McManns?” Dawn said. “That old couple next door? They did say they were looking at those retirement communities.”