As the Tide Comes In

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “I don’t think so. I looked him in the eye the other night and asked him straight up. He said no. Later on I saw him sweeping the floors, trying to find it for you. Like I told him, it’ll show up. If it doesn’t, it’s just a rock.”

  She nodded, but it wasn’t just any rock. It represented their beginning. It was the one Darryl had thrown on the porch and stood on, claiming he could rock climb too. She’d used red fingernail polish to put the boys’ initials on it, and her plan had been to mount it and send it with Darryl when he went off to college. Over the years she’d often teased him that the stone was their first rock climb together. It was her fault it was missing. She should’ve done something permanent with it long ago. But for twelve years she had kept it in an antique dish on the kitchen windowsill over the sink, only taking it out to think and smile before returning it to its place.

  Sean put his hands on her shoulders. “He’ll be fine at college.”

  She shook her head, biting back tears. “He’s not ready for this step, not like you were.” She straightened the tie, trying to make it look as it should. This wasn’t her forte. She still worked at a grocery store and an outfitter store, only here in Sylva rather than Asheville, and she’d been promoted to a department manager at each place.

  She grabbed his jacket out of the back seat and began brushing and picking lint off it. “He’ll move into his dorm room in seven weeks.”

  “If that’s nagging at you like this, let’s make the most of this summer. Take off work tomorrow and go with us.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’ve been working on these plans for two years. You and your brother need a road trip, just the Banks men off to explore at will. I’ll meet up with you in St. Simons Island next week. Why are we going to that island again?”

  “Ha…Ha…Ha.” Sean faked a laugh, spacing out each syllable, his low voice dry.

  “I try to be amusing.” She held out his jacket.

  “We’ll be at the airport to pick you up. It’s all arranged. I’ll have alarms set. No way we can forget. I’m excited. I know we can find out something about your roots. I may even have a lead.”

  “Or not,” Tara mumbled.

  “I think I do, and I feel good about it. You deserve to at least know something about your roots, and my leads indicate you have relatives from there. Maybe it’s your nana.”

  Tara nodded. “You keep telling me the same information over and over. Did you know that?”

  “Yeah, I keep hoping you’ll believe me one of these times.”

  They began walking toward the Ramsey Center. “What I believe is that we’ll have a great time. Our first real vacation.”

  “Hey,” Sean fussed, “we go hiking and camp out somewhere fun every summer.”

  “As I said, it’ll be our first real vacation. Hotels. Restaurants. A bed. Air conditioning. No cooking over a campfire.”

  “And finding your roots.”

  “You and Darryl are my roots.” She paused, looking at the double doors leading into the building. “I’m not ready for him to graduate from high school and for both of you to leave for college in August.” Because he’d taken off a couple of semesters to earn money, he was a year behind. But he’d graduate next spring.

  “The cabin will be quiet during the week, and that’ll take some getting used to. You might even have time to think or, heaven forbid, date. But Darryl will be home every weekend with loads of laundry. He’ll be hungry and need someone to talk to, and every third weekend I’ll join you guys. We’ll hike and rock climb and—”

  “Stop.” She bristled. “I was just having a moment. I’m not some desperate old mom who needs her kids.” She walked toward the center’s door.

  “No, you’re not.” Sean stayed in step with her. “You’re a desperate young mom.”

  Before she could retort, Collin, a young man a grade below Darryl, touched her elbow and spoke. “Ms. Abbott.” He’d never called her that before. He pulled a red carnation from behind his back and bowed. “Compliments of the valedictorian.”

  Tara’s heart fluttered. “Thank you, Collin.”

  He opened the door, and there was a row of boys and girls on each side of the entryway, twenty or so total. Joy bubbled inside her…and a bit of embarrassment. They were all juniors from Darryl’s school, but she knew most of them by name. Every one of them held out a carnation for her, creating a beautiful multicolored bouquet. She wanted to ask Sean if he’d known about this, but she wouldn’t right now. These kids were doing as Darryl had asked. She thanked each person as she took the flowers, her cheeks burning, but she smiled and nodded and kept going.

  She knew this building well. Hadley had attended school at WCU for six years until she graduated three years ago. The two of them would occasionally come to Catamounts basketball and volleyball games inside this building. The Ramsey Center could seat more than seven thousand people, but the high-school graduating class was under two hundred, so the school had sectioned off a small part of the seating area. She led the way, climbing the arena steps.

  “Tara.” Pastor Mike spoke from one of the seats. After twelve years of being in his church, she’d recognize his voice anywhere.

  She glanced around and soon spotted him. His wife was next to him, smiling. Pastor Mike waved.

  “Thank you for coming. It’ll mean a lot to him.”

  “Of course. We knew the minute we received an invite that we wouldn’t miss this.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Sean nudged Tara from behind, clearly encouraging her to continue onward. A line must’ve formed behind them. “I better keep it moving.”

  “See you Sunday, T.” Patti barely moved her fingers as she waved.

  Tara went to the area that she knew would have the best view. Sean moved in beside her.

  “You knew about this”—she held the flowers up to her face and breathed in the scent—“didn’t you?”

  “It’s why I wasn’t dressed on time. I was sticking to the plan Darryl gave me.”

  “Putting on your socks and shoes once we got here,” she mumbled.

  “It slowed you down and gave them time to get their flowers and line up.”

  People continued to pour in, and soon the sounds of “Pomp and Circumstance” filled the air. The faculty and graduates filed in. It seemed no time passed before Darryl was behind the podium, standing tall. He welcomed the graduates and those attending. “Every one of us graduating here tonight has at least one person who helped along the way. For me that person is my half sister, Tara Abbott, but I usually call her T-Mom.”

  Darryl’s classmates clapped, and the applause spread throughout the arena. Tara’s cheeks burned.

  “I call her that because she’s been raising me since I was five years old.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I think most people here tonight can imagine some of the sacrifices an eighteen-year-old girl made to accept the responsibility of raising two wild and rowdy boys. Well, actually she had to tame only one wild and rowdy boy. My brother is the good one.” He made a face, and the audience chuckled. “For those of you visiting from out of town, T-Mom is the barely thirty-year-old, cute, single blonde sitting right there”—he pointed—“holding a lap full of flowers. I leave for college in August, and someone should date her.”

  The crowd broke into laughter. Tara smiled and waved. She leaned toward Sean. “I will make him spend the rest of his days paying for this.”

  “I look forward to watching that,” Sean mumbled back.

  He held up both hands. “I’m kidding. I’m just kidding. Settle down…before she comes out of those stands after me. Any of you ever been grounded by a sibling?”

  The crowd laughed again.

  Darryl grasped the sides of the podium. “We’re having fun here tonight, and that seems to be everyone’s end goal in life, but life is about doing what it takes to get to
these moments. I’m teasing my sister because that’s what we do. Some of you feel sorry for me because my mom skipped out. But I had a good granny. When she died, Tara took over raising us. I can’t imagine how terrifying that must have been for her or all she gave up to be here for us. Some of us will go off to college. Some of us will even graduate from college. But the power of who we are isn’t in the education or golden opportunities. Our power is inside the sacrifice of loving and giving, and it doesn’t matter if you’re the valedictorian of a class or the last in the class. It doesn’t matter if you go to college or go to work at a local store. What matters is your power to love when it’s not easy and give when you’re empty and believe in God’s goodness when you’ve lost your granny or your mom or dad. I know learning is important, and I encourage everyone to do what you need to in order to learn all you can, but remember that knowledge and earning good money aren’t the most important things. Love, sacrifice, and respect are the most important things…and harassing your sister.” He grinned. “Let’s pray.”

  Tara bowed her head, grateful that God had opened her heart all those years ago and helped her take the best route, not the easiest one.

  * * *

  Carrying her running shoes, Tara walked out of the cabin and moved to the old rocker on the front porch. After putting on and tying her shoes, she stood and breathed deep. Warm winds rustled through the treetops. Clouds were gathering and thunder gently echoed.

  She went down the steps and began her slow run around the pond and toward the mountain path. Was anything more beautiful than her neck of the woods? She didn’t think so. Rain or shine, hot or cold, green leaves or fall’s brilliant foliage or barren trees—it didn’t matter. She loved taking a run or hiking in all of it, and with some patience and humor, she’d taught her two younger brothers how to enjoy the outdoors too, just as they’d taught her how to be part of a family. But she hadn’t been able to rouse them this morning. Both had mumbled as she woke them, begging her to let them sleep.

  Joy fluttered through her as her feet hit the path, and she quickly found her stride as she put distance between her and the cabin. Memories came at her from a gazillion directions, covering tidbits from the last dozen years. She grew miserably out of breath, and all thoughts slipped from her except the focus of continuing to run when her body didn’t want to.

  The sky darkened and the wind picked up. Rain began pelting her, but she never minded running in the rain. Still, she came to a halt and turned toward home. She was a good two miles from the cabin, and if lightning soon accompanied the rain, there were better places to be than in the woods.

  She kept her pace as she went toward home. A gust of wind knocked her off the trail. She grabbed a tree and righted herself. The treetops were bending and bowing northeast as if straight winds were fierce, and those could precede a tornado. But tornadoes were rare. The county averaged one a year, and fatalities were unheard of. Still, she’d feel better if the boys got out of the loft. She pulled out her cell and called Sean.

  The call immediately went to voice mail.

  She dialed Darryl. Same thing.

  She tried again. If they had their phones on Do Not Disturb, her call would ring through if she called twice.

  Still no answer.

  Thunder popped, and rain fell as if someone overhead were throwing buckets of water on her. Her gut said she had to make sure Sean and Darryl were out of the loft. She tucked her phone away and ran down the trail, but this time her gait wasn’t even or pretty, only desperate. A siren shrieked from her phone.

  Dangerous weather.

  She pulled the phone out again and ran harder. The phone jiggled and jerked in every direction, but she dialed Sean again. “Pick up!”

  But he didn’t.

  Somewhere behind her she heard the cracking of a tree splitting. She could only hope the path of its fall didn’t connect with the one she was on. She had run in rainy weather for years, both here and in Asheville. Never in all that time had a storm sneaked up on her.

  Her phone screeched again, warning of dangerous weather. Her lungs ached, but she kept pushing to get to the cabin, and finally it came into view.

  “Sean!” She drew a breath. “Darryl!” She ran, and when she came to the opening where trees gave way to cleared land, she saw nearby clouds swirling. “Boys!” She screamed with all she had, running as fast as she could. “Get out of the loft!” She peeled around the side of the cabin, slipping in the wet grass, but finally crawled to the stairs and got her footing. “Boys!”

  The air thundered, and she knew a nearby tree was breaking. She jerked open the screen door and kicked the front door open. “Boys! Now! Out of the loft!” She ran toward the stairs to the loft. “Sean!”

  The air ricocheted like a high-powered rifle going off. The roof moaned and debris fell.

  Something knocked Tara off her feet, and warmth covered her head. She tried to muster the strength to yell, but the room grew darker until it was black.

  3

  Gavin scrawled his name across the last of the paperwork, grabbed his phone and keys off the desk, and headed for the firehouse door. Why was there always last-minute work to do when he had somewhere to be? It wasn’t that he had many appointments, but when he did, getting away on time seemed impossible.

  A vacuum cleaner rumbled against the floor down the hallway, and the smell of burned popcorn hung in the air. He put on his sunglasses and left the building. June’s heat and humidity fell over him like a wool blanket, and it wasn’t yet nine in the morning.

  Three bays were open. Fire truck seven was out of its bay as a crew washed it and two members checked off the equipment. The rear-entry doors to ambulance three were open, and two EMTs were taking inventory and restocking it—another check-off task. When firefighters and EMTs weren’t out on a call, they seemed to spend half their time doing checkoffs.

  “Have a good shift, boys.” Gavin inwardly smiled at his calling them “boys.” At twenty-eight he was younger than most of the men here. He went toward his pickup.

  “Lieutenant?”

  Gavin knew Bryan’s voice well. He was the captain’s kid, a fresh-faced fifteen-year-old who longed to become a firefighter. Gavin pulled his phone from his shorts pocket and pressed the Home button, checking the time. The information verified he was already fifteen minutes late. There was no way to know if Bryan was here of his own accord or if some of the men had sent him to keep Gavin from getting to his destination. Still…

  Gavin turned. “Hey, Bryan. What’s up?”

  Bryan seemed to want this life every bit as much as Gavin had when he was young. But Bryan was far more qualified than Gavin had been. It’d been a battle for Gavin to earn a spot as a firefighter. He’d been obese and clumsy. Sometimes that unhealthy kid version of Gavin seemed like a stranger he’d once met, and he ran about five miles daily to stay ahead of him.

  Bryan rubbed the back of his neck, taking his sweet time before answering. “I’ll finish my first aid and CPR courses next week.”

  Gavin knew what he wanted. “Yeah? The courses will be done, but the real question is, Will you pass the tests?”

  Bryan laughed. “I’ll pass.”

  “Then, yes. Once you’ve successfully completed the courses, you can shadow me. Okay?”

  Gavin started for his truck again.

  Bryan kept up. “I need you to sign this.”

  “Can it wait?”

  “No, I was supposed to have it signed last week. If I don’t have it ready to turn in first thing tomorrow, I’m booted from the class.”

  “Come on, Bryan. You’re full of beans, man.”

  “No, really. Please.” Bryan looked innocent and sincere, but Gavin glanced at the crew in the driveway doing their work. They appeared to be focused on their jobs, but were they really? The whole lot of them lived to harass one another. However, he didn’t have time fo
r their pranks right now.

  But on the chance he was being unfairly suspicious of what was going on, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll sign it.” He took the pen and put the sponsor card against his palm, but the pen didn’t work. He shook it and tried again, cleaned off the end of it and tried again. It still wouldn’t work. He looked at the pen. “I need to go. I’ll stop back by here after the meeting at the lawyer’s.”

  “No! You’ll get busy and forget. Just wait. I’ll get a good pen.”

  “Bryan, I have to go.”

  “I’ll grab a pen and be right back.” Bryan ran toward the fire station door.

  Gavin stood there, holding the card and useless pen. Jimmy glanced his way, and despite wiping down the fire truck and such, the other men seemed to have an eye and ear out for what was going on, although that was just Gavin’s gut feeling.

  When Jimmy glanced his way again, amusement tugging at the lines in his face, Gavin knew for sure what was happening. Apparently he was looking at the reason behind his inability to get out of the station when he had appointments. Gavin realized they’d also planned the stack of last-minute paperwork that only he could sign. Of course they had. How gullible was he, anyway? And how many times had they caused him to run late?

  He walked toward the lieutenant on duty, holding up the pen. Jimmy kept a straight face, but most of the other men were chuckling.

  “How’s your hand, Lieutenant Jimmy?” Gavin asked. It felt good to be the target of harassment. During the first year after his dad died, Gavin was exempt from all pranks. Maybe now, eighteen months after his dad’s passing, the men were determined to make up for lost time. If so, Gavin had a target on his back, and just the thought of it made him want to laugh. It should make for some interesting pranks over the next few months.