by Liz Talley
“Dad, what are you going to do with the barn when Clem leaves?” Landry asked, kicking a rotting log that lay across the path.
Nothing like your kid to pull you out of naked fantasies.
“I don’t know. I have some of my duck call stuff in there. I could teach you how to make them. It’s sort of relaxing,” Henry said, smiling as his daughter took off ahead, chasing a yellow butterfly. This is what he loved about this land. He should have finished the house before now. The kids loved being out here.
“Maybe. Eddie told me he’d take me duck hunting in the fall. He has a lease on the Red River flyway, near a wildlife preserve. I probably need to practice my calls this summer.” Landry walked with his hands in his pockets, his shoulder stretching the fabric of his T-shirt. He’d started looking more like a man and less like a little boy.
That thought paired with the news his ex-wife’s new husband wanted to take Landry hunting made Henry feel itchy. Henry should be the one to take his son hunting, to teach him how to clean a rifle and dress a hen. “I can take you duck hunting. I didn’t know you were interested. You used to cry when you saw anything dead.”
Landry scoffed. “That’s when I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid.”
His son cast a glance at him but didn’t argue. So much communicated in one glance.
After a few minutes of tromping down the damp path, they emerged into a clearing. The pond sat to their left, the gentle breeze wrinkling its surface. A fish jumped, making a ring on the surface. Katie Clare scampered onto the pier, her bare feet slapping a rhythm. She stopped so fast at the end of the open pier she nearly tumbled into the lake.
“Careful,” Henry called out.
“God, she’s such a spaz,” Landry said, shaking his head.
“She is an accident waiting to happen,” Henry said with a laugh.
Clem and Frances must have heard them coming because the couple came out of the barn holding hands.
“Hey, guys,” Clem hollered, lifting an arm. Frances was half a foot shorter than the big guy. Quiet with dark hair and gorgeous olive skin, she was a beautiful complement to the towheaded, blue-eyed big country boy she’d fallen for when visiting her brother Sal last fall.
“Clem,” Katie Clare shrieked, reversing course and running back to greet Clem and Frances.
Clem caught her and spun her around. Katie’s little legs flew up and she squealed like a stuck pig as he twirled her.
Frances smiled and then shook her head. “He’s such a big kid.”
“And I plan to stay that way,” Clem said, lowering Katie, who was now so dizzy she staggered around giggling.
“How are things going with the packing?” Henry asked, eyeing the half-full trailer.
“We’re getting there. Never knew I had so much stuff. I packed all the unsold pieces I had a few weeks ago. Now it’s a matter of getting all my tools crated for transport. By the way, your furniture is covered and in the back corner for when you’re ready to move in. Everything going okay with Larry?”
Henry knew Clem was nervous about turning over the successful remodeling and construction business he’d built to his former employee, even if Larry was well-known for his carpentry skills. Running a business was a helluva lot different than making sure ends met on crown molding or a floor was even. It was managing a crew, a schedule, and complaining customers.
“He’s doing great. I really think you’re leaving the business in the right hands. Plus, I’m here to advise him. I’ve been doing this for too many years.”
Clem slapped Henry on the back. “Thanks, man.”
Clem and Frances went back to work while Henry wandered up to the barn and peeked inside. The place smelled of sawdust and polyurethane. The place looked a bit sad without the machinery cluttering its space.
Henry walked through, heading toward the back of the barn. Noting the covered furniture in the corner, he yanked back the sliding door at the back of the barn. It creaked open slowly, a clear sign he needed to oil the wheels. Out back was a tangle of tall grass and vines. The land had stayed cleared because Clem would often bushhog to keep vermin away from the exterior. Henry had talked about putting in a garden but had never gotten around to it. Maybe this year he would. Of course, if he was going to do it, he was already late in getting it tilled and primed. April had snuck up on him.
Landry appeared at his side. “I kinda had an idea for the barn. I mean, I don’t know if it would work, but it might.”
Henry cocked his head. “Whatcha thinking?”
“Well, you know how the animal rescue is looking for a place?” Landry kicked an old coffee can that had been hidden in a clump of vine-covered boards. “Well, why couldn’t they use the barn?”
Henry stared at the boy. Landry’s gaze met his.
“I’m not sure there would be enough room.”
“We could build kennels out here,” Landry said, nodding at the large, mostly cleared plot.
“You want to build the rescue kennels out here?” Henry looked back at the area. His son was right—there was plenty of room to build several rows of kennels. They could build a huge metal roof to cover the entire spot. But that would be a big undertaking and would mean people and barking dogs intruding on his peace and tranquility.
“They need some land, and we have a bunch out here. There are two different entrances to the land, so it’s not like people would be bothering us at our place. I mean, unless you didn’t want to.” Landry shook his head. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea.”
“It’s not a stupid idea.”
“It would be a lot of hassle. It’s just we have all this space, you know? They could use it until they found something more permanent.”
“It’s not a bad idea. I never thought about it, but you’re right. We have the land and this would be a good place. It’s a little far out of town, but until they find a bigger place, this could work.”
Landry looked at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, and I’m proud you thought about helping the rescue organization. I need to do some checking about licenses and stuff, but I like the idea. Until I can do some research, let’s keep this to ourselves.”
Landry nodded. “Definitely don’t tell Katie. She’ll blab to everyone.”
Henry smiled. “Your sister does like to talk, so, yeah, I think we should keep this to ourselves.”
“It could be a cool surprise for Grace and Sunny.”
“Well, I think Grace would have to know. She’s the present director of the board. But we might be able to surprise the committee… and the whole community. That could be fun.” But what would Sunny really think? She didn’t even know that he’d bought the land they’d coveted as teens. Almost every time he watched the pond ripple under the moonlight, he recalled the way her shampoo smelled, the way she looked framed in the moonlight. They’d snuck out here at least half a dozen times to throw stones in the pond and lower the tailgate on his truck to make a place to lie back and study the stars… or each other.
“How long would it take to build?” Landry asked, interrupting his thoughts of strawberry lip gloss and working a bra clasp.
Henry was amazed at how much thought his son had given the rescue. Of course, Landry had a passion for helping animals, but to date, he’d not shown much interest in any big projects. Last weekend after the 5K and Easter egg hunt, Landry had talked a good bit about the rescue and how he might raise some money to help at his school. Seemed there was a community service club that chose a different charity each month. Pride in his son flooded him.
“My first priority is to finish the house, but I think we could pour some concrete and get some pens up without too much trouble. So maybe a month or so depending on the weather. But first I need to talk to Grace and see what she thinks.”
“She’s going to say yes. She told me last weekend that until they get a physical space, they can’t take on many animals. They all have to be fostered, and finding enough people to foster animals is har
der than she thought. I mean, maybe we could do that too. You said we could get a dog or something once we got the house done.” Landry sent another hopeful glance his way.
“We’re already feeding that cat,” Henry said. As soon as Landry and Katie Clare had seen the black cat living beneath his porch, they’d given it a name. Casper the Ghost Cat. Because according to Landry, the name was ironic. And there was the fact Casper didn’t like to be seen much. Of course, the food bowl on the porch was emptied with regularity, but during the day when construction was ongoing, the feline disappeared into the woods. Landry and Katie Clare were working on seducing the cat from hiding with treats and cat toys. It hadn’t worked for them yet.
Some evenings, after the workers went home and all was quiet, Casper would join Henry on the porch while he nursed a beer or a cup of coffee, proving the cat wasn’t totally antisocial. Just choosy about who he hung out with. Henry liked that he’d made the cut. A few days ago, he’d actually petted the cat, earning a soft purr before the cat realized the danger and darted back into the bushes beside the steps. When Henry could earn the cat’s trust, he’d crate it and take the cat to the vet for a checkup and vaccinations. Probably needed to be spayed or neutered too.
“But that cat’s feral, Dad. He won’t even let us pet him.”
“Sometimes it takes a while for an animal to trust you. You don’t know what happened to Casper in the past. Give him some time to know you, to learn that you won’t hurt him.” Henry slapped his son’s shoulder and stepped back into the barn.
Time.
Just like the ragged-eared cat, Sunny was too scared to trust, too afraid to allow herself any comfort. The moment after she lowered her guard and felt something, she ran off and hid. Sunny had been hurt in life, time and again, and like Casper and the animals she wanted to help, she needed time.
He’d once had a horrible infection after being hooked in the palm by fishing tackle. The jagged cut had closed and looked fine, but beneath the fatty thumb pad, infection set in. Within days, his hand had swollen and the healed cut had turned an angry red. The doctor had drained it, giving him sweet relief, but he had to take a strong antibiotic and wait over a week before he could grip a steering wheel. Just draining the infection away hadn’t been enough. He’d needed salve and time to completely heal. That realization made it easier to give Sunny the breathing room she’d asked for.
Question was, after she healed, could he convince her that the fresh start she wanted wasn’t necessarily in California?
As Henry pulled the barn door closed, Katie Clare appeared. “When the house gets built, can we get a dog? Mama says we can’t have one at her house ’cause of the new baby and stuff. But we don’t have to worry about a baby here. I wanna puppy like Fancy.”
A dog again. “We’ll see, KC.”
“That’s what you always say,” she whined.
“Whining doesn’t make me want to change my mind,” he said, rubbing her on the head.
Katie brushed his hand away. “Daddies are supposed to say yes.”
“Who told you that?”
“Everyone knows that,” she said, skipping off to flirt some more with Clem, who unlike her daddy, gave her what she wanted. Last time they’d visited, he’d found a ten-dollar bill in her jeans pocket. For ice cream.
Clem was a sucker for a pretty face. The man would make a great dad someday.
Sunny waved at Woozy, who sat on the bench across the gym. The Morning Glory Bucs were up by twenty points, and Woozy was close to fouling out. The kid wiped the sweat from his face and gave his chin a jerk to acknowledge her.
“I don’t know why you brought me to this game. I don’t like basketball,” Betty complained beside her.
Sunny looked over at her mother, who wore a bright tracksuit from the 1990s and had conceded to pinning her hair up into a platinum bun. “Because it’s Saturday and I promised Woozy I would come to the game.”
“Woozy. That’s the dumbest name for a kid I ever heard.”
“You named me Sunshine after a porn star, Mom.”
Betty managed a snort. “I was on a lot of pain medication.”
“That’s what you call it?” Sunny turned her attention back to the game. Over the past week something had changed inside her. She wasn’t quite sure what, but she felt calmer. More content. Which shouldn’t have been the case because she’d slept with the man she swore she’d never even speak to again. Her life should feel heavier, but it felt quite the opposite.
“I used to come watch you cheer here.” Betty inched her wheelchair forward and peered around Sunny’s shoulder at the cheerleaders swishing pompons. “You were always the best one. You had straight arms and a perfect toe touch.”
Sunny stared at her mother. “I don’t remember you ever coming and watching me.”
“Eh, every now and then I’d sneak in. Harry Melton let me in at halftime and didn’t charge me.”
“Really?” Sunny made a face, surprised her mother would even bother. When Sunny was growing up, Betty was either at a bar, working the pole at the club, or sleeping. Every now and then though, she’d go through a Betty Crocker stage where she went to a PTA meeting or baked cookies for Sunny and her siblings. Somehow those times were scarier—neither she nor Eden knew how to take Betty when she was wearing an apron. “I never knew.”
“Probably because you were so wrapped up in Henry Todd.” Her mother picked up the soda from the bench and took a sip. “How are things between you and him? You finally kiss and make up?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I know you,” Betty said, carefully dabbing her lower lip so her lipstick didn’t rub off.
“And that means what? You expect me to roll over?” Is that what she’d done? Just given in and let Henry have what he wanted? No. She’d gone to Henry. She’d set the rules. And she didn’t regret that night. All those things she’d said had done some good for her.
When she’d gotten home, she’d showered and taken Fancy for a walk. A hot cup of tea and a good book tucked her into bed, and the next morning she’d awoken to warm sunshine. She’d put the television on the channel that showed church services, sat her mother in front of it in the hope that God would do some work on the woman, and plowed through the weeds and overgrowth in the backyard to the old shed her mother’s ex-husband had built in the backyard. Dank earth and the smell of fertilizer met her, along with some suspicious movements near the back that she tried not to think about. Sunny pulled out an old machete, a pair of pruning shears, a saw, and shovel and then tackled the vines and bushes overtaking the backyard.
She’d worked until sundown, the warmth of the day soaking into her, the arduous task of bagging vines and digging up cherry laurels tiring her to the bone, but when she’d finished, the yard looked much like a tornado had ripped it apart. Hacked and bare, it was ready for a new beginning.
And so was Sunny.
She felt just like that backyard—finally free from the hurt that had invaded her life and hidden who she was. Making love to Henry, getting that closure, had ripped aside the pain and anger that had tangled her heart and burrowed into her soul, twisting her into something she’d never wanted to become—a hard, empty woman. Her sister and her friends hadn’t been wrong. She didn’t have much hope. But sometime between Jess dangling that bracelet toward her and Sunny tossing the tools back into the shed, Sunny decided she would fight for her life.
She was too determined to reclaim who she’d been to accept the title of Miss Hopeless 2018. Like the yard she’d cleared of weeds, she was ready to plant some good things, to allow the rain, the sunshine, and Mother Nature do some needed restoration.
So that week she’d started viewing her life through new lenses. She made an appointment to get her hair cut and colored and threw out her cigarettes. She’d baked a cake for Aunt Ruby Jean’s birthday, even hanging up some streamers and buying some flowers for the table. Betty had complained about Sunny taking down the old dark drapes, but she’d fi
nally admitted that the sunlight pouring into the house made her feel better. Sunny had even called Henry and asked if he could send some guys to fix their front porch. She’d pay the bill with the money she’d gotten selling the antique comic books her brother had collected and left in plastic sleeves in the hall closet. She’d sold the whole kit and caboodle to Jess’s boyfriend Ryan. The hot nerd had actually teared up over some original Superman something or another. It had been surreal to see a guy that hot get so emotional over a comic book.
“No, not roll over. I’m not talking about taking shit from Henry. I’m talking about opportunity,” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts just as a basketball sailed toward Sunny’s head. She ducked right before a kid from the other team snatched it from the air.
“Oh jeez,” she breathed, uncurling and looking around sheepishly. A few fans around her laughed.
“Well, thanks a hell of a lot for protecting me,” Betty drawled, rolling her one good eye.
Sunny raised her eyebrows. “Eh, it might have knocked a little mean off you.”
“That’s what everyone thinks about me. That I’m mean. That’s exactly what your sister said last weekend, but I’m not mean. I’m cranky, sure. You’d be cranky too if your life sucked as much as mine. Nope, I’m realistic. No need to mince words. I say what I’m thinking.”
“Well, sometimes it’s good not to say whatever pops into your head. You hurt people’s feelings, Mama.” Sunny shouldn’t have to say that to her mother. The woman knew what she did and why she did it. This is exactly what Sunny wanted to protect herself against—being like her mother. She didn’t want the bad things in life to sour her to the point that no one wanted to be with her. Her life was far from over. And Betty wasn’t done yet either. “And I don’t need the kind of opportunity you’re talking about. I don’t need Henry to rescue me.”
