by J C Hartung
As they turned, without noticing she’d done it, her hand came up and she brushed lightly at the fingers that held her shoulders. She looked up and waited for him to lean down to hear her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled and gave her shoulder a protective squeeze.
In the back corner of the bar, Abby and Carrie watched the scene unfold. When the handsome blond entered the situation and draped his arm around their girl, they both really tuned in, and with hope of seeing some sassy burst of life come from Raina, they held their breath.
The two were talking to each other as they edged their way closer to the front of the line. When they reached the bartender his arm fell from her shoulders and they both leaned on the bar as they ordered. She was laughing now, and Abby and Carrie exchanged a hopeful smile.
“So can I buy you a drink?” Linc asked the girl.
She smiled back at him and for the first time he saw a spark of laughter in her eyes.
“I think that should be my line. As a thank you,” she clarified. Then she leaned closer so the Neanderthal wouldn’t hear.
“I’m actually here with some friends.”
He smiled back at her, and then looked over to where she pointed at the two women intently watching them. He tipped his head before returning his attention to the mystery before him.
“No problem, I’m here with a friend too. Maybe another time,” he offered.
“No I insist, what are you drinking?”
If the girl insisted, who was he to decline?
“Two beer, please.”
He blinked again at the interesting feeling that had continued to assault him as she turned to order. When they stood looking at each other with the drinks between them, he was trying to decide what the best approach would be with this girl. He’d never felt such a deep need to be cautious with another human as he felt in that moment and he didn’t fully understand it.
“Well, thanks again,” she smiled and picked up her drinks. Then feeling she had to say something else, she blurted out. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
As he stood opposite her trying to find something clever and attractive to say, she turned and walked away. It was too late when he realized he hadn’t got her name.
Chapter Two
The fourth time her name was called she exhaled heavily and left the work unfinished. Time was running out and if she didn’t get the muffins in the oven in ten minutes they wouldn’t be ready by the time they needed to leave. The oven in the kitchen at home was a little more finicky than the large industrial equipment at work or out in the garage. Eight minutes, she thought would give her a bit more breathing room with the clock.
Eight minutes. Timing herself now…..Who does that? And when had she become the sort of person who lived so rigidly? Would her friends even recognize who she’d become? She knew the answer to that, so with a resigned exhale, she swiped at the hairs that had come loose from their tie, and turned her back on the muffin batter and her eight minute window.
She rounded the corner after being called for the fifth time, and though at this point it was less a call and more a panicked shout, she cautiously peeked her head around the door. Standing frozen, resigned to the reality that the painstaking moments she’d given to cleaning the room had been undone, as she was hit with what looked like a small tornado had unraveled all the order she’d worked for.
“Well, haven’t you been hard at work!” she proclaimed, with hands on hips and an undertone of frustration. The frustration was drowned quickly by dark watery eyes, and swept efficiently under the rug when a perfect set of dimples flanked a sad smile.
Standing in its center, weighing in at a whopping 42 pounds, his arms were spread with an adorable look of distress. She sighed, defeated by the liquid brown eyes cast her way, and as the love bubbled up and wiped clear the frustration, she took careful steps into the carnage.
“Mom, I can’t find George.”
She scooped him up under the arms, and spun him around like a helicopter. Together they collapsed onto his small bed that had been relieved of its blankets in a frantic search for George. Giggles erupted from a distraught expression and George was temporarily forgotten.
She glanced at the ceiling before giving in to the fact that they would inevitably be late, which was more in line with her character anyway.
“I know where George is, love. I’ll show you where he is but I need your help first.”
Pushing up off the bed, she swung the small body over her shoulder and raced back down the stairs to the kitchen. Setting him down on the counter next to the sloppy mixture resting in a bowl, she scooped the batter into the tins before placing them in the oven and setting the timer.
With a few quick strides she headed towards a bench at the door where she grabbed a backpack that looked to be bursting with toys, colors, and paper. George sat zipped in at the top, two big floppy ears hanging out of the bag.
“Remember packing this?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“George!”
Squeals and fast feet smacked on the tile floor as he leaped from the counter and raced to his beloved George.
She watched with wonder, as pure, innocent love and relief washed over Oliver’s previously stressed expression. She couldn’t help but smile. If all issues could be solved so easily with a ratty, old, floppy-eared bunny called George, life would be grand!
“Okay, Ollie, let’s leave George in the bag until we’re in the car,” she directed, before setting the pack on the bench. “Do you think you could help me sort through the mess you’ve made of your bags? Grandpa and Grandma will worry if we’re too late.”
The mention of time had her once again glancing up at the clock. They weren’t too badly off track, but worry was an emotion not easily controlled. Especially a parent’s, or in this instance, parent-in-law’s worry could justifiably turn irrational at the slightest whim.
Silently reminding herself to call them before they left, she went about the rest of her tasks, hoping that the call would avoid a bumpy start to the weekend.
Forty minutes later, Oliver’s bags were re-packed, the muffins were done and packaged up with the other goodies already packed away, and she was tossing her bag in the trunk of the car.
“Hop in your seat, Monkey,” she shouted back to Oliver, as she ran to the house to grab the ringing phone.
“Hello.”
“Oh, Raina!” She heard her mother-in-law’s voice and smiled. “I’m so glad I caught you! I just wanted to remind you to bring a life vest for Oliver. I’m sure he’s grown out of the one we left at the cottage last summer and I don’t know who will fit into what.”
“Hi, Sue! No need to worry it’s already packed! I was just about to call, we’re just leaving. I’m going to pick up a coffee and then we have no other scheduled stops.”
The conversation was short and nearly over, but she braced herself regardless. A short pause later she knew it was coming as Sue cleared her throat. Raina brought her hand to her hair, first tracing the line on her forehead before pushing fingers through its heavy, cinnamon colored weight. She pinched her eyes tightly, and took a deep breath.
“Raina. Drive safe, please.”
She turned to see Oliver jumping around the gravel drive, not a care in the world. A hot ball of fear lodged itself in her throat; this drive always seemed to ignite that feeling.
“I will, Sue, we’ll be there soon.”
She took one last visual sweep of the area and counted herself ready to go. She tossed the phone in her pocket and locked the door on her way out. She knew she most certainly was forgetting something, and as that at least was one thing that hadn’t changed, she closed the door firmly behind her.
Walking to the car she sent up a silent prayer that she and Ollie would get to the cottage safely, and she tried with an authoritative effort to put the rest out of her mind.
“Ready, Ollie?” she asked, flashing him a cheerful smile before starting the car.
“Y
ou bet!” he cheered, a fountain of endless energy.
She pulled sunglasses over her eyes and tried to vacate her mind for the next two hours. There would be two days to deal with reality and all the ghosts that resided there.
Chapter Three
Driving through this small resort town wasn’t much different from pulling into her own. The only difference was that they were separated by a few hours of highway, and surrounded by different bodies of water.
Oliver knew they were close, and the closer they got, the slower his rambling chatter became. All the exciting activities he had lined up in his head for he and his cousins, were quickly eclipsed by the visual feast of activity beyond his window. And as the ceaseless chatter often became too much, it was at that moment she wished it would continue, for with the silence, the more insistent the hollow pit in her chest seemed to become.
Too many memories here, she thought. She turned her eyes from the boardwalk that was littered with happy people walking hand-in-hand. She hated that it was still hardest to come here, that one of her favorite places could hold such conflicting emotions. Unfathomably, she clung to the knowledge that somehow the cottage had the power to transport her back to the exhilarating moments of new love, and also invoke the darkest memories of what was lost.
A short twisting drive through the other side of town brought them to the road that rose and then fell with gentle hills before they turned into the drive. Everyone was there already, she noted, not that she hadn’t expected them to be. They would have gotten an early start and been ready and waiting for their arrival. That had become the pattern over the past two and a half years. Also, she was the random, frequently late, formerly free-spirited addition to the family who everyone wanted to care for.
Squeals and shouts announced their presence, as small bodies and four large paws raced to the veranda that circled the cottage. Oliver was opening his door and bouncing out of the car before she had the emergency brake engaged and the keys from the ignition. He was lost in a boisterous sea of arms, bodies, and happy faces, before they whisked him through doors into another group of waiting arms.
She got out of the car, took a deep breath and scanned the area. The breath was meant to settle her racing pulse, but it did little to relieve the knot that was pinching her heart and choking off her supply of air. After two and a half years she always felt this way when she first arrived at the cottage. She wondered if it would ever stop.
These feelings weren’t something she frequently chose to visit. For the most part she managed to get through her days unruffled. Maybe she was used to the feeling, or maybe she'd learned to avoid it, or maybe she was healing. She couldn’t say at this stage which it was.
She saw Trish, the raven haired beauty first, her beautiful sister-in-law and dear friend. She’d slipped through the back door while everyone else fussed over Ollie. She stood with a smile, watching as Raina climbed the steps.
She smiled back and fell into Trish’s waiting arms. “Hey, Trish.”
“Hey, sweetie, it’s good to see you.” Strong and comforting arms wove around Raina in an energy exchanging embrace before they drew apart and shared a smile.
“What?” Rae questioned. She laughed, knowing what was coming next by the way Trish eyed her from bottom to top.
“I don’t know how it is you spend your day surrounded by all those tasty treats and stay thin as a twig?”
She humored the comment with another laugh. Trish could always lighten the mood. “If I had time to eat while I was at work, or any other time for that matter, I likely wouldn’t stay a twig!”
“So business is good?” she beamed, and rubbed her belly.
If Raina calculated correctly she’d say Trish had about three months to go with this pregnancy, about the time when the pregnant woman would begin to resent anyone who got within arm’s length who was skinny as a twig.
“Business is good,” she offered with a shrug, as they walked back to the car. She reached into the passenger seat and pulled out a white box wrapped tight with a ribbon. Raina offered the 8x8 square to Trish and her face lit as she happily accepted the box filled with goodies.
“Mmm yum, don’t tell Dave,” she commented slyly, while pulling the ribbon and taking a sneaky look inside. She walked slowly around to the back of the car and leaned on the trunk as she took a pastry from the box. She sunk her teeth into one with a sigh, while cream oozed out the sides and onto the fingers she greedily licked clean.
Raina took up a relaxed pose beside her and watched as she scarfed back the sugary, buttery, crumbly mess.
“I’m supposed to lay off the treats so I don’t produce another giant,” she mumbled between bites. She smiled when she noticed Raina watching her. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything enjoyable. These are stupidly delicious, Rae!”
Raina smiled in thanks as there were more squeals and a slam of a door before a barrage of feet flew over the steps down to the beach.
“You ladies want to join the party?”
She turned in time to see Dave making his way down the steps before Trish pushed the box into her hands.
Dave smiled, hitting Raina with a pair of dark chocolate eyes that winked; eyes not unlike those that were crying over a lost bunny earlier in the day. Even as she smiled at his easy gesture, she felt the burn in her chest. It turned and rolled until it settled behind her eyes with a growing sting.
Dave reached them and took the box from Raina’s hands and passed it back to his wife. He bent only slightly to kiss her, then licking his lips he went to Rae with a massive grin and arms wide open.
“Mmm, pastries. Tastes good, Rae!”
Raina was able to smile even as the first tear slid free. She grabbed hold of Dave and held tight. Dave and Trish were still the Sawyers she spent the most time with and had known the longest, yet Dave was the one that always hit her the hardest. Just one look at him and it was like being punched in the gut.
The resemblance was uncanny, but more importantly it lived in the small things. The way his eyes would laugh before his mouth could respond, his snappy sense of humor that was so quick and could change the mood with the smallest of effort. The way he tossed Oliver in the air or paid special attention in the moments that mattered. He was so much like Mark, or rather Mark had been so much like him; the cool older brother to the awe-struck and worshipful younger brother.
But Dave wasn’t Mark, and no one ever would be.
She forced herself to rein it in. She could keep it together a while longer, she had to.
“Hi, Dave.”
She put on a smile as he stepped back to take a proper inspection before the rest of the family came down the steps to greet her.
After being shuffled through a gauntlet of welcoming arms they all grabbed something from the car and before she knew it, she was sitting on the porch with a glass of chilled tea in hand.
Sue was next to her on the porch as they watched the children race around playing some sort of game that only they knew the name of.
“Thanks for coming, sweetie, it really does mean a lot that you do.”
Raina smiled over her way and caught a gleam of moisture touch the rim of her eyes. Though she couldn’t know for certain as she’d never asked, she always thought it was difficult for Sue to be near her. Or perhaps more pointedly she felt as a mother herself it should be more difficult for her than for the rest of the family. Sue lost her son. That was a horror Raina couldn’t bear to imagine. And so, though she couldn’t know those were Sue’s feelings, she always felt somehow responsible for the loss, and effortlessly accepted the guilt that obviously accompanied.
She didn’t know what to say, there was nothing she could say. So as she sat there next to Sue, she felt like she was alone in a small boat, stranded in the middle of the sea with no provisions; she was alone. Thankfully, the moment was swept from her hands before she was pulled in too deeply. Dave, Pete, and Marie burst through the doors, arms laden with food and the grill was immediately f
ired up. Busy work was a grateful distraction and when feeding an army such as the Sawyers’, there were never enough hands.
She gave Sue’s arm a squeeze and excused herself to the kitchen where Marie was surrounded by a mound of vegetables and fruit that needed to be thrown together to accompany the chicken.
“I’ve got this covered if you want to relax, Rae,” she offered.
Raina threw a casual smile her way. “I want to help; I need something to do, Marie.”
Marie understood what she said without her actually needing to say it. Marie was the oldest of the three Sawyer siblings, and like Dave, not much went unnoticed by her. It was a quality that could unnerve or endear depending on the circumstance. She knew Marie had seen the exchange she and Sue had just shared. She also knew Marie could sense everyone’s emotional fragility.
Without a word, Marie walked to the large refrigerator and pulled a monster watermelon from the bottom shelf. She hefted it up on the counter, put her arm around Rae and squeezed her shoulder.
“You’re a good girl, Raina.”
It wasn’t a huge statement, but it mattered. It also calmed some of the waves that were rolling in her stomach. She smiled over at her before she went in search of a knife to deal with the melon.
Chapter Four
Whispers and giggles floated down from the loft when night had fallen. The small children had been sent off to bed with little expectation that they would actually sleep quickly. The bigger kids were around the table with Grandpa Allen, Pete, Marie, Dave and Raina, playing one of the many games from the cupboard. Trish was shuffling through the fridge in search of a late night snack and Grandma Sue was up in the loft encouraging giggles.
