If Not for a Bee

by Carol Ross

  Thanks to her mom she’d also learned to sew, which had led to other crafts. When Mrs. Canterbury taught her how to knit Janie had recognized immediately that she’d discovered something special—almost like she’d found her calling.

  Janie was grateful to those domestic divas out there who’d made homemaking fashionable and trendy. She enjoyed writing her column because she was able to share her knowledge and experience even though she secretly longed for more time to spend doing these things and not just writing about them.

  Janie shook her head. If only Cal hadn’t died, then she wouldn’t be faced with the myriad problems that she found herself dealing with on a daily basis while trying to be mom and dad and breadwinner.

  She’d be able to give their children the attention they needed. She missed Cal. She missed being married and being part of a couple...a team.

  Their marriage had been good, but hardly perfect. Whose was? But he had loved her. And they had wanted the same things in life—stability, a family, a home filled with love and laughter—and they’d had them for eight years.

  She’d give anything to experience those feelings again for even one more day. Cal had really stepped it up as the boys had aged and he’d taught them so many of the skills that were essential in growing up in such a severe and remote locale.

  Too maudlin, Janie, she told herself and realized this trip down memory lane was pointless. She felt another bout of frustration at the situation Aidan had forced upon her. Why was he doing this? She’d made it clear that this wasn’t necessary. The man didn’t listen, and that fueled her belief in his selfishness. But no, the problem wasn’t selfishness exactly, she could see that now. He was actually quite generous... It was just that he was...what? Focused, stubborn, intent on “helping” and getting his way? Were those bad things?

  She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter because she was stuck. She might as well get used to the idea and maybe she’d gain some insight into him in the process. She turned toward her computer and began an internet search on Dr. Aidan Hollings.

  CHAPTER TEN

  FOR SOME REASON Janie wasn’t surprised when she pulled into her driveway a few days later and found Aidan shooting baskets with Gareth and Reagan. Aidan had been picking up Reagan after school to work with him and bringing him home in the evenings. No word yet on whether Gareth would be helping out and no indication that he’d asked. Janie had agreed to let Aidan handle it in his own way.

  Aidan, she noted, was playing one-handed but the handicap didn’t seem to diminish his skill by much. Gareth snagged the ball and they all dutifully stood to one side while Janie tripped the garage door and parked her SUV inside.

  She walked into the house to find her mom stirring a pot of soup on the stove. Maybe because her mom had been a widow on her own, raising kids, she often seemed to sense when Janie needed an extra dose of help.

  “Oh, Mom, is that dinner? It smells great.”

  Claire smiled at her daughter. “I had a feeling you could use a break tonight. I hope you don’t mind I invited Aidan?”

  Janie took a carrot stick off of the veggie platter Claire had arranged. “No, that’s fine. It’s the least we can do what with him spending all this time with Reagan. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Reagan happier than he has been this week.”

  Janie paused with the carrot halfway to her mouth as she realized those words could very well be true.

  * * *

  AIDAN PASSED GARETH the ball and wondered about the best way to get through to him. The more he was around Gareth, the stronger he felt that something was off with the kid. He knew it. He could see the deep, underlying sadness or despair or turmoil or...something.

  Gareth attempted to conceal it, but Aidan could spot it—probably because he was good at hiding certain things about himself, too. He couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly what Gareth’s issues were, but one thing was clear—the poor kid was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Certainly what he’d witnessed today had to be a contributing factor...

  * * *

  AIDAN NEVER WOULD have seen the incident if he hadn’t been a few minutes early to pick up Reagan. Reagan had been helping him every day after school and the situation was working out even better than Aidan had anticipated. He decided to run inside the school because Jacinda had now emailed him twice about the guest appearance in her science classes. The notes had been decidedly lacking in details about what topics she might want him to cover, but he now knew she was originally from Texas and that she played pool at the Cozy Caribou on Wednesday evenings.

  He wasn’t interested and he wanted the personal revelations to stop, so he needed to remove any reason for further correspondence. But if he was to agree to speak to the students, he’d need time to prepare. After stopping by the office to sign in and ask directions to her classroom he had to travel by the gym.

  The gym doors were open and he saw Reagan standing a few feet inside. He started forward to greet him, but something about his stance made Aidan stop and take note; the hunched shoulders, the tension in his posture...

  Aidan nearly cringed at the sound of the voice that he heard next. “Eat it, Everett. You like to talk about it so much. So eat it.”

  Two other boys came into view, both of them laughing.

  One of them chimed in, “Yeah, freak. Eat it. This is what freaks like you eat, right?”

  Reagan remained frozen—silent and staring straight ahead.

  One of the other kids commented. “Maybe his mouth is already stuck shut from eating so much snot and boogers.”

  “Eat this right now or next time I will feed you worse.”

  The Vetcher kid stalked forward like he was going to put his hands on Reagan.

  Aidan moved quickly on a wave of rage. But before he could reach them, before the kids even saw that he was there, Gareth seemed to fall from the sky. Aidan realized he must have dropped from the bleachers behind the kids.

  “Leave my brother alone, Vetcher.”

  A tall girl with long dark hair appeared next to Reagan. “You touch him and it’s assault, you idiot cretin.”

  Vetcher scoffed. “Why don’t you try spending time with somebody your own age, like me, Elena, instead of this weird little dork?”

  “Harmon, you’re certifiable. Why don’t you go check yourself into the mental hospital where you belong?”

  Reagan said something Aidan couldn’t hear that made Elena laugh.

  Harmon’s chest puffed out like a cartoon pigeon.

  Aidan tensed in case he made a move.

  But Gareth took a step forward. “Back off, Vetcher. Do I need to remind you what happened last time you didn’t back off?”

  Harmon visibly deflated, obviously retreating but trying not to make it too obvious. He raised a hand, palm up. “Relax, man. We were only kidding around. You sure are high-strung sometimes, Everett.”

  Harmon snorted and Aidan knew there was something seriously wrong with the kid. He also knew from what he’d seen that these boys wouldn’t stop. Gareth and the brave girl beside him were only buying Reagan time. Aidan turned and walked back toward the office to wait for Reagan. His efforts to dissuade Jacinda would have to wait.

  Aidan made a decision. If Janie wanted to keep her head buried in the sand that was her choice, but Aidan wasn’t going to wait around for something to happen to Reagan in the meantime. Her obliviousness wasn’t fair to Gareth, either.

  Janie might not want his help, but her boys needed it.

  * * *

  PRIOR TO HIS DECISION, Aidan had been waiting for the right moment to talk to Gareth about working for him. He wanted to get to know him a little better first, hoping he could continue to shoot baskets, make small talk and smooth over the Boston cream pie blunder. And possibly earn the boy’s respect in the pro
cess.

  But after stumbling upon the incident with Vetcher, Aidan now felt a sense of urgency.

  Aidan took action when the opportunity to talk to Gareth came up later. On the way over to his lab, he and Reagan stopped by Bering and Emily’s so he could look over a map with Bering. Aidan wanted to expand his bee research area and Bering had proved to be an invaluable resource with his knowledge of the geography of the region. While there he learned that Emily had picked up Gareth from school so he could help chop and stack a fresh load of firewood.

  While Reagan visited with Emily and Bering, Aidan went outside to find Gareth. He headed toward the outbuilding and Bering’s wood-chopping station. Aidan glanced toward the river. He spotted a moose on the opposite side and stopped to watch her for a moment as she foraged knee-deep in the budding green grass. The snow-capped peaks of the mountains seemed to glow in the distance. Alaska held a kind of raw and pristine beauty unlike any other place he’d ever seen—and he’d seen an awful lot of the world.

  Aidan noted the wood had been chopped and neatly stacked, but Gareth was nowhere to be seen. Something told Aidan to head toward the water and it didn’t take long before he recognized Gareth’s dark brown hair. Aidan thought the contrast between Gareth’s and Reagan’s appearances was as striking as their personalities. He’d seen photos of their father, Cal; Gareth was clearly a mix of his father, his mother and his Uncle Bering. While Reagan seemed pure Janie, from his deep red hair right down to the lichen-green shade of his eyes.

  Gareth was sitting on the ground facing the river. Aidan had confidence in his plan, except now that he was presented with the opportunity to have a discussion with Gareth he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  Clearly the kid was still grieving for his dad. And as Aidan thought about the loss of his own father, he realized he knew exactly what not to say. He wouldn’t say any of the things people had said to him when he was growing up dad-less. “He’s watching out for you” or “your dad would be so proud of you.” Those kinds of statements had always irritated Aidan—no one could possibly know those things for sure. He’d hoped they were true, but he didn’t know.

  Nobody knew.

  Aidan walked over and lowered himself next to Gareth onto a large flat rock. Gareth glanced at him with a polite half smile, but didn’t say a word.

  They stared at the river for a long moment, not talking, but the air was far from silent. The river rushed wildly from the bulging water of the spring thaw and a bird screeched as it flew overhead. They both lifted their gazes skyward and followed the path of a bald eagle. The bird landed in a tree on the opposite side of the river. It rotated its snow-white head repeatedly one way and then the other, casting them a series of suspicious side-eyed glances.

  Aidan inhaled a deep breath. He was starting to like how energizing the dry, chilly air felt when it filled his lungs—fresh and clean and so much different than the stifling humidity he had become accustomed to in the tropics.

  “My dad liked sandwiches. My mom says he would rather have eaten a sandwich than any other food on the planet. He would eat sandwiches, like, this tall.” Aidan held his hands about six inches apart. “I think about him every time I eat a sandwich.”

  Gareth flashed him a puzzled expression. Aidan almost laughed at how much he resembled Janie when she was annoyed with him and trying not to show it. He looked back toward the river and Aidan imagined Gareth wanted to tell him to go away, but the poor kid was exceedingly polite. He felt a fresh bout of respect for Janie’s mothering skills.

  “When I was small, I remember him bringing me bubbles. You know those kinds in the bright containers with the little wand you pull out and blow through the circle?”

  Gareth tilted his head in understanding.

  “He would blow the bubbles and I would chase them. Then when he would leave I would try so hard to make bubbles like he did, but I never could quite master it...” That memory still caused a rush of emotion. He had precious few memories of his father because he and his mother had never been married, so the time he’d spent with him had been only when he visited.

  Gareth’s voice was so low that Aidan barely heard him. “My dad liked Boston cream pie.”

  Aidan felt that one like a punch, but he was happy to get this subject out in the open.

  “Yeah, I screwed up there, didn’t I? I’m sorry about that.”

  Gareth remained silent.

  “I didn’t know about your tradition, Gareth. Your mom tried to tell me, but I was trying too hard to make things better after I ruined the first cake. I can be kind of single-minded sometimes—especially when I believe I’m doing the right thing. You’d think I’d learn, but...that’s one mistake I’m really good at making.”

  Aidan thought Gareth nearly smiled at that, but his head swiveled back toward the water.

  Aidan joined him in staring at the river and felt sure he’d lost him. It wasn’t going to be easy to proceed with his plan without Gareth’s cooperation, but he would. He would help Reagan one way or the other, even if he couldn’t reach Gareth. Maybe he could enlist Tag’s help. He shifted, getting ready to stand and report that dinner would be ready soon.

  Gareth’s voice was soft when he spoke. “He liked pancakes. My dad liked pancakes. But he ate only peanut butter on them.” Gareth held up his hand with his thumb and index finger a good inch apart. “Like, that much. No syrup. Just peanut butter. I’ve tried them like that, but I don’t like them.”

  “That’s a lot of peanut butter. I’m a butter-and-syrup guy myself,” Aidan said.

  “Me, too.”

  Gareth stayed silent.

  Aidan picked up a rock and tossed it into the water. It was heavy enough that it made a kerplunk sound rather than a decent splash.

  Gareth said quietly, “My dad liked movies, too. Any kind of movie—scary, funny, action, romance... My mom says it didn’t matter. He would watch anything.”

  Aidan picked up a smaller rock and threw it, with much greater success. What was it, he wondered, that made throwing rocks into the water so satisfying—and almost addictive?

  Gareth picked up a stone and flipped his wrist; the stone sailed through the air, and then gracefully skipped across the water nine times before slipping beneath the surface. Clearly he’d spent some time practicing this skill.

  “Wow. You’re good at that.”

  “My dad taught me.” Gareth picked up another flat rock. “I like movies, too. I haven’t been to the real movies that much, though—a few times when we’ve gone to Anchorage. We don’t have a movie theater here. Aunt Emily turned the gym into a movie theater last summer and everyone is hoping she’ll do it again this year.” He launched the rock and it skittered even farther than the first one.

  Aidan chuckled. “That sounds like something my crazy sister would do.”

  “She’s great. I love Aunt Emily.”

  “Me, too. She loves you, too, Gareth. She tells me all the time how much she loves you and your brothers.”

  Gareth nodded.

  “It can be difficult, huh? Taking care of your brothers? I’m older than Emily and I’ve always felt this responsibility for her. It was frustrating for me when we were growing up because we didn’t live together so I couldn’t always be there for her like I wanted.”

  “You guys lived in different houses because you have different moms, right?”

  “Yep, we have different moms. Same dad. We both lived with our moms. She grew up in California and I grew up in Oregon.”

  “He’s dead, right? Your dad?”

  Aidan nodded. “Yes, he died when I was little. Emily was only a baby. It’s just been me and my mom ever since.”

  Gareth looked curious.

  “My mom made sure Emily and I saw each other as much as possible. She thought it was really important that we be able to be brother and s
ister—like a real family.”

  “I think it’s hard being the oldest.”

  Ah, Aidan thought, finally getting to the crux of the matter. “I do, too. You spend a lot of time sticking up for Reagan, huh?”

  A flicker of surprise lit the boy’s features before he looked back toward the river. Aidan followed his gaze and watched the eagle swoop close to the water’s surface and head back to his tree branch with a squirming fish in his talons.

  “My dad would want me to. That’s what my mom says.”

  And this was where he and Janie differed, and he suspected, where he might lose the precious ground he’d gained with Janie. But he had to try. He couldn’t sit back and take the chance that something even more serious would happen to Reagan. He knew kids like Harmon all too well, and Harmon was waiting patiently for his chance—exactly like that eagle.

  “He would. No doubt about that. But he might want Reagan to learn to help himself, too. That’s a lot of pressure to put on you, Gareth—to be your brother’s protector.”

  He shrugged, but kept his eyes pinned on Aidan, and Aidan felt like he might be getting somewhere so he continued. “What happens when you’re not there? What happens when that slime Harmon and his sidekick Riley corner Reagan next year and you’re not around?”

  Gareth’s eyes widened and Aidan suspected that he was surprised by this insight. Undoubtedly, Gareth felt very alone in this situation. Aidan felt his chest tighten with emotion. He wanted to put an arm around Gareth’s shoulders and tell him everything would be okay. But he certainly wasn’t going to say that, either.

  “Mom says sometimes people are so smart in some ways that they use all their brains for that smartness and don’t have enough left over for other areas.”

  “That’s an interesting way of looking at things. But I’m pretty smart, too—like Reagan. And I manage to help myself. Although, you know what? It wasn’t always this way for me, either. I had to work it out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I, uh, I had the same problems when I was in school that Reagan does. Worse, actually. And I didn’t have a big brother, so I had to learn... I had a lot to learn.”