by Liz Talley
“Oh, ’cause y’all were in different grades and stuff?” Landry looked up from scrubbing the folding table they’d used to clean their catch.
“I guess,” Sunny said, looking off into the distance.
“Being in two different grades is hard, huh?” Landry continued.
“It can be,” Henry said, cautiously sensing this was now more about Landry and the girl he was “talking” to. The kid snapchatted with this unknown girl more than he did anything else. Henry had to confiscate his phone before bedtime each night to ensure he didn’t spend all night on the phone with this new interest.
“Yeah, the girl I’m talking to is a junior, and I figure that it might be too hard to, like, be in a relationship with her.” Landry’s mouth went flat with disappointment.
“A junior? You’re only a freshman.” Henry didn’t want to sound accusatory but probably did.
“Yeah, but she’s only sixteen and I’ll be turning sixteen before she turns seventeen. We’re in different grades but only, like, ten months apart,” Landry said, making a face. “Lord, you act like I’m a kid or something.”
Henry bit down on the “you are” retort and gave Sunny a look. She smiled.
“Okay.” Henry went to the large fryer he’d borrowed from his father and hooked up the butane so they could start the oil. “I guess that’s not robbing the cradle. Any relationship can be difficult. I suppose you have to decide if it’s worthwhile.”
Landry folded up the table and paused. “Do you think if you hadn’t met Mom you would have gotten back together with Sunny?”
Henry jerked his head up and felt Sunny staring at him. He didn’t know what to say. He could tell the truth, but that might make his son feel as if he had truly been a barrier for him and Sunny, or he could lie and say that he and Sunny wouldn’t have gotten back together.
“You know, Landry…” Sunny’s voice carried over the whoosh of the burner igniting. “There are lots of wouldas and shouldas in relationships. People can wonder about what might have been, but what good does that do? Not much. Fact is, your dad and I weren’t meant to be back then.”
“But what about now? Are y’all going to get married? Or at least be boyfriend and girlfriend?” Katie Clare looked up from her sticker book. The child was a terrier with a bone.
“Well, bunny, Sunny and I are trying to enjoy the present—like catching fish with y’all and making cornmeal batter. Speaking of which, I need to go grab the tub of meal and get this fish coated so we can eat before Landry dies.”
“I didn’t say I was dying. I said I might die if I don’t eat soon. It’s not a given,” Landry said, giving a crooked smile that Henry knew looked almost exactly like his own. “And way to avoid the question, Dad.”
Henry walked toward the carriage house back door. “I’m not avoiding anything, son. I’m telling the truth. I don’t know why you and your sister are so interested all of a sudden.”
“I’m not being nosy,” Landry called. “Just trying to make the conversation you complain I never engage in.”
“Well, my mama got a new husband. His name is Eddie and he’s pretty nice. He lets me stay up past my bedtime sometimes. He and my mama are having a baby. If it’s a girl, they’re naming her Lenora, and if it’s a boy Leo. I don’t like those names. Maybe you and my daddy can have a baby. That would be good, huh?” Katie Clare asked.
Henry stopped and looked over his shoulder at Sunny. She’d grown very still and a small, sad smile flickered at her lips. “I don’t think that will happen, Katie bug.”
“You don’t like babies? You said you liked kids and dogs.”
“I do. But I’m not staying here in Morning Glory. Remember?” Her words sounded sorrowful. Henry wanted to turn around and ask her why she couldn’t just stay. But he really didn’t have the right. He hadn’t lied when he said he and Sunny were enjoying each day rather than worrying about the future. But still, that great unknown hung over them, just as it had all those years ago during their last summer together. Change was coming, and he didn’t want it now any more than he’d wanted it then.
“You should stay here with us,” Katie Clare said, sliding off her chair and wriggling between Sunny’s knees. The crafty eight-year-old climbed onto Sunny’s lap and gave her a hug. “We like you, and Daddy does too.”
When he couldn’t stand any more, he went inside the postage-stamp-sized kitchen and grabbed the meal and poured a glass of bourbon. Part of him wanted to toast the work his kids were doing on his behalf, the other half wanted to start drowning the pain that would probably come the day Sunny rode off into the sunset. Instead, he went back out and started frying the fish.
The night ended with a killer game of Uno in which so many teasing insults were bandied about that Landry hurt Katie Clare’s feelings, which sent Sunny upstairs to the pullout futon to read a teary Katie Clare a story while Landry did the dishes… begrudgingly and with earbuds back in place. When Katie Clare finally drifted off, Sunny came down and joined him on the couch to watch Late Night with Rhett Bryan. Landry had gone up to bed, and they held hands and snuck a kiss or two. Before Sunny left, he suggested letting Katie Clare go with her to the Boltons' farm after she shot down his offer to ride with her.
“Katie wants to see the chickens. You know the kid. She always wants to see something,” he said.
Sunny stared out at the darkness. “I don’t want to stay long. I want to drop Fancy off and then go.”
“Of course. But take Katie Clare. She’ll be good company.”
“You mean she’ll be a distraction,” Sunny said, finally meeting his gaze. In those violet blue eyes, there was sadness, and that wounded him. He’d grown accustomed to seeing a happier Sunny.
“Yeah, she will be. And besides, y’all can talk about flower girl dresses and wedding cakes. I think she mentioned a unicorn for a topper. Seems they’re awesome.”
“So I hear,” Sunny said with a quirk of her lips.
He framed her face between his hands and softly kissed her lips. “If you won’t let me come with you, at least take Katie with you, sweetheart.”
Sunny had let him kiss her again and wipe the single tear from her cheek before she climbed back onto her bike and disappeared into the night.
So that morning as he waved at her through the windshield of her mother’s van, he knew how much she would hurt after she dropped that dog off. Maybe he was wrong in wanting her to be too busy with Katie Clare to feel the loss, but he was almost certain that in order for Sunny to drive away from the Bolton farm, she needed a little help. He’d told her he would come over to her house that afternoon and help her paint the porch. She’d protested, but he’d insisted that he could be her handyman. Then he sang a James Taylor song and promised to bring fried chicken from Mrs. Ida Mae Robinson, who was Clem’s next door neighbor and the best Southern cook Henry knew. The woman was an institution in the small town, and if someone was nice enough to bring her a mess of butter beans and held his mouth just right, he might talk her into frying some chicken. Henry had brought butter beans, two pounds of sausage from the Riggs farm, and fixed the clothesline that kept sagging in order to get the aforementioned chicken. He bet even ol’ Betty would smile after having herself a piece.
Sunny backed the van up in the gravel beside the stone fence and headed down the long drive toward the highway. Henry raised his hand in farewell and hoped like hell a few bad jokes and some good fried chicken could put a temporary Band-Aid on Sunny’s newly broken heart.
Sunny passed Martha and Crazy Ted’s place and turned into the dirt drive of the Bolton’s farm. If she remembered correctly, one of her mother’s old elementary school teachers used to live on the place, but she couldn’t recall the family’s name. The grass needed mowing around the mailbox, but she wouldn’t fault Fancy’s new owners for not getting to it. It had rained off and on over the past week, so the ground was too wet to mow.
The old farmhouse had been freshly painted and the flowerbeds had been tended. A
swing hung on the porch with a cheerful red cushion and two turquoise pillows. It screamed for someone to grab a cup of coffee and enjoy the country serenity.
“This is it. What do you think?” Sunny asked Fancy, who had perked up as they bumped down the drive. Fancy just looked at her, tail thumping, tongue lolling out.
Betty had cried that morning when she’d taken Fancy out to the living room to say goodbye. Oh, Sunny’s mother had tried to hide her tears, but Sunny had caught sight of the sadness and moisture on her mother’s cheeks, and that had made her want to burst into sobs and call Grace and tell her Fancy wasn’t available for adoption. The only thing that stopped her was she’d made a plan and needed to stick to it.
Besides, a farm was a great place for a dog. Australian cattle dogs loved space to run, and Grover’s Park wasn’t geared for a herding dog to shepherd people together. Too much togetherness in her neighborhood often led to someone getting shot or pregnant. However, the bucolic setting splayed before her would be paradise for the rescue dog.
“This is where she’s gonna live now?” Katie Clare unbuckled the seat belt and leaned between the two seats.
“Yep,” Sunny said, rubbing Fancy’s head and sighing.
“That’s a good climbing tree.” Katie stared at the sprawling magnolia tree sitting to the left backside of the house.
“If only dogs climbed trees. Hand me Fancy’s leash, and let’s go meet her new family.”
“Okay.” Katie Clare gave Sunny the leash and clambered out of the van.
Briefly Sunny closed her eyes and sent up a prayer for strength. She had to do this for Fancy. She gave the dog one last quick snuggle, clipped on her leash, and then opened the door.
As they walked up the concrete path to the front porch, Fancy sniffed around the yard. Sunny tugged on her leash, pulling the dog to her side as both the Boltons came out the front door.
“Oh, here she is,” Marie cooed, trotting down the steps and bending toward Fancy.
The dog tried to run back to the van.
“She’s still a little timid of sudden movement,” Sunny explained when she saw Marie frown.
“Well, that makes sense. She probably doesn’t remember me.” Marie squatted and held her hand out to Fancy. The dog sat down and looked at Sunny like she didn’t understand why Sunny wasn’t following her back to the van.
Ben Bolton carried a small boy, who kicked to get down. “This is our son Hugh.”
“That’s my doggy,” the boy said, running toward Fancy. Marie caught him and held him back.
“Now, Hugh, darling, you’re going to have to let the puppy come to you. She’s scared and not used to small boys.”
“I’m not small. I’m big,” The towheaded child said, pulling away from his mother. Fortunately, Marie persisted in keeping him from mauling Fancy, who had curled her tail and cowered at the strange presence of a child.
“She won’t bite, will she?” Marie asked, casting a worried glance at Sunny.
“No, as Grace told you on her site visit, our dogs are vetted, but they are still animals. She’s pretty gentle and very loving once she gets to know you. Maybe we could go in the backyard and play for a little bit? Fancy loves to chase the ball.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Ben said, eyeing Katie Clare. “And is this the young lady who gave us the flyer?”
“That’s me. I’m Katie Clare. I’m here to help give Fancy to you guys.” Katie Clare looked solemn like she’d accepted the job and was going to see it to completion. The way she crossed her arms over her chest made Sunny smile.
“Yep. And she’s great at throwing the ball for Fancy.” Sunny looked at Hugh. “Do you like to play ball, Hugh? Cause Fancy loves to chase a ball. She’ll even bring it back to you.”
The boy stopped trying to get away from his mother and looked at Sunny. “I have a ball.”
Sunny smiled. “She’d love to play with it. Or I can get a tennis ball. It fits perfectly in her mouth and won’t get your ball all slobbery.”
“I’ll get one,” Katie Clare said, jogging back to the van and emerging with the small bag of toys Sunny had packed for Fancy. Inside was the much-beloved fluffy bunny slipper the dog had found abandoned in Eden’s closet, a rope toy, a bone for chewing, and three tennis balls. Katie Clare pulled out a ball. Fancy sat up, her ears twitching in anticipation, her wary brown eyes growing alert.
“Let’s play ball, Fancy Pants,” Sunny said to the dog, who’d uncurled her tail and was now shifting back and forth on her paws, ready to attack the offensive bright yellow tennis ball. Sunny took the leash and followed the Bolton family around back. “You coming, Katie Clare?”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” the girl said, tossing her the ball and heading back to likely close the van’s sliding door she’d left ajar.
Sunny led the dog around the side of the house and unhooked her. The dog didn’t even try to sniff around. Her brown eyes were fastened on the ball in Sunny’s hand. Sunny hurled the ball across the wide expanse of lawn sitting beneath a sprawling oak tree, and Fancy sped after it. This seemed to delight little Hugh, who clapped his hands.
After throwing the ball a few more times, Sunny knelt down and forced Fancy to sit. “Want to pet her, Hugh? Just be gentle and let her get to know you.” Sunny took Hugh’s hand and showed him how to pet Fancy between her ears. “See? She likes to be petted.”
Fancy sat still, glancing inquisitively at the little boy biting his tongue and petting her. Eventually Hugh squatted down and looked Fancy in the eye. “Hi, doggy. I’m Hugh.”
Fancy cautiously wagged her tail and licked the little hand the boy waved toward her in an attempt to pet her. Hugh picked up the ball and tried to throw it. It hit the grass and bounced. Fancy caught it on the second hop and trotted back.
Sunny rose and watched as the little boy took the ball Fancy dropped and threw it again. “She can do that all day. You might have found the perfect nanny for your little boy.”
Marie smiled. “That could really work out. That boy’s like the Energizer Bunny. I’m wiped out at the end of the day.”
“I have some things for y’all. I know Grace gave you the paperwork, but I need you to sign a paper showing delivery. Jeez, sounds like I’m delivering a television or something.” Sunny gave a wry laugh before realizing she’d left the bag with the papers in the car. “Oh darn. I left it in the van. Here’s her leash. Let me grab the papers.”
The Boltons clapped as Hugh threw the ball and romped with the dog as Sunny made her way back to the front of the house, her heart still heavy with the loss of Fancy but proud at how well Fancy was behaving. Katie Clare still hadn’t made an appearance, which was odd. The child was all about being up in everyone’s business, so she should have been right in the thick of things, instructing the three-year-old on proper ball-tossing technique and doing the job Henry had given her. Sunny scanned the front yard but didn’t see the child when she emerged onto the gravel driveway. The van’s door was still open. Where had that child gotten off to?
“Katie Clare?” Sunny called, walking toward the van.
“Up here.”
Sunny looked toward the porch, expecting the child to be ensconced in the front porch swing, but she wasn’t there. “Where are you?”
“Up here.”
Sunny looked up and caught sight of Katie Clare halfway up the huge magnolia tree sitting near the side of the house. Her heart leaped into her throat. “What are you doing up there? Get down.”
Katie Clare’s denim shorts and skinned knees were just visible through the glossy green leaves. Sunny couldn’t see the child’s face.
“Don’t worry. I’m an excellent climber,” Katie Clare called back.
“I don’t care. You need to come down. You’re too high.”
“Don’t worry, Sunny. I told you. I’m good at this.” The child continued her voyage to the top of the magnolia as if she hadn’t heard Sunny.
Sunny thought she might hyperventilate as the child stretch
ed her legs and pulled herself even higher in the tree. Katie Clare’s grinning face appeared about three-fourths of the way up. “See? I’m fine.”
Abandoning all thoughts of papers, dogs, and tennis balls, Sunny jogged over to the tree. “Please come down, sweetheart. This is dangerous.”
“Just a minute. I’m almost to the top. I can do it.”
“I’m not asking you, Katie Clare,” Sunny said, growing angry that the child wouldn’t listen to her. “I’m telling you to come down. Right. Now.”
“Aw, man. I’m almost to the top. This is the highest I’ve ever been.” Katie Clare had inserted her infamous whine into her voice. But she’d at least stopped her ascent to the top of the tree.
“Too bad. Down. Now,” Sunny called up, shading her eyes and holding her breath as Katie Clare started shimmying toward a lower branch.
Sunny felt Fancy at her feet and the Boltons at her back.
“Oh my God, is she in the tree?” Marie asked.
“Yes, but she’s coming down, thank the Lord,” Sunny said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. How in the world had the child gotten so high in the brief moment she’d been around back? Henry would kill her if she knew she’d let this happen. But just as Sunny had that thought, she heard a loud crack above her.
And then Katie Clare plummeted through the branches toward the ground.
Someone screamed and Sunny realized it was her own voice as she ran toward the trunk of the tree. Katie Clare bounced like a pinball, striking one branch hard, then flailing against another, crying out through the entire drop. Sunny couldn’t reach her before she hit the ground, but by the time her body collapsed to the ground with a thud, Katie wasn’t moving.
“Call 911,” Sunny yelled, kneeling next to the girl.
Katie Clare had landed on her face, her arm apparently broken beneath her, a huge gash on her thigh pouring blood into the loamy soil. Sunny couldn’t breathe for a moment and thought she might pass out.
