by Susan Schild
After making short work of unpacking, Linny reread Diamond’s instructions about how to fire up the hot water heater and peered doubtfully into a dimly lit closet as Kate bustled around the kitchen putting up groceries. “You still have that flashlight app on your phone?” she called to her sister.
“I do.” Kate rummaged in her jacket pocket and handed her phone to Linny.
With the bright illumination of the app, Linny found the breaker and flipped it on. “Ta-da!” she called, and Kate smiled. But Linny paused, puzzled as she gazed at her sister’s phone. “No bars. You don’t have any bars, but Diamond told me the cell service was fine up here.”
“Huh,” Kate said absentmindedly as she examined the label of a tub of hummus. Placing it in the fridge, she called to Linny, “I need to pee again.” She headed toward the tiny bathroom.
But Linny felt a buzz of nervousness as she thought about no cell service. They might be only fifty miles from home, but they were out in the woods, and she hadn’t seen one neighbor since they saw the fellow splitting wood way back at the main road. A cold knot formed in her stomach. What if something happened to Kate? What if she started throwing up all day again, or what if the baby came early? Linny could boil water and tear her T-shirt into strips of rags like they did in the movies, but she’d have no idea what to do after that. Her mind raced around. What about wild animal attacks? She’d read a story last week about a couple who drove up to their weekend cabin in Boone, North Carolina and found that a whole family of bears had moved right in, raided the fridge, and slept in their beds. Maybe her phone would work. Linny rummaged in her purse for her phone and looked at the screen. No bars. No freaking bars. She didn’t know which cell company Diamond used, but it wasn’t hers or Kate’s. Her mind raced.
Maybe she needed to find the right spots for reception. Holding her phone in one hand and Kate’s in the other, she trotted to one side of the houseboat and held them up, then trotted to the other side. No luck. She stood by a window with both phones raised and finally scrambled outside onto the deck. Standing on the bow like the Titantic lady got her nothing. The stern was also a strikeout. Finally, she snaked her arms and shoulders as far out over the side as she could, vaguely in the direction she thought might be Raleigh.
Kate’s phone got nothing, but suddenly Linny’s displayed four, big, burly bars. She breathed out a sigh of relief and kissed her phone. Back inside, she found an outlet and plugged both cells in to charge. She gave hers a little pat before she went to help Kate finish unpacking groceries.
* * *
As the afternoon sun faded, the two sisters found webbed chaise lawn chairs that had seen better days and dragged them onto the upper stern deck. The wind had kicked up and the air was chilly. Wrapped in wool blankets and wearing the windproof parkas Diamond had suggested they pack, they sprawled on the chairs and gazed out at the water, munching the picnic Kate had packed for supper.
Savoring the creamy pimiento cheese sandwich Kate always made with wafer-thin cucumber slices, Linny chewed as she listened to the waves gently slap the bottom of the houseboat. “Do you know, the water’s twenty-two feet under us? Starts off shallow at the bank and drops off like a shot. That’s what Diamond said anyway.”
“Hmm,” Kate said thoughtfully as she forked in a bite of cole slaw. Reaching in the big pockets of her coat, she handed Linny a minibottle of Chardonnay and pulled out a bottle of water for herself. She turned to Linny and raised a brow. “So about the fight with Jack . . .”
Linny scowled, and picked up the tiny bottle and, with a pinky raised, took a long swallow of wine. “I told you what happened on the drive up.”
“Those were the highlights,” Kate said drily. She ticked points off on her fingers. “You said Jack’s parents are still lovey-dovey with Vera. Jack’s still too controlled by Vera and tries to avoid conflicts with her. He keeps canceling dates with you. He feels guilty about how remarrying will affect Neal. Did I get all that?” Kate glanced over at her expectantly.
Linny shifted in her lawn chair. “That’s it. Jack’s scared. That’s what the fight was about.”
Kate sipped her water and persisted. “But what scares you?”
Linny felt a flare of irritation. Had she asked to be psychoanalyzed?
Kate went on. “Marriage is scary. I’m scared Jerry will die young from not taking care of himself and leave me alone to raise this baby. I want him to be right beside me every step of the way.” She paused and looked out at the water. “I’m also scared our marriage will turn into Mama and Daddy’s. Do you remember Mama, checking and rechecking that skinny Timex she wore, staring out that window and waiting for Daddy to come home from the river?”
“I do.” Linny nodded slowly as she gazed up at the clouds racing across the sky. “So what scares me about marrying Jack?”
“Yup,” Kate said softly.
“Everything,” she admitted. “I’m afraid of turning out like Mama and Daddy, too.” Linny picked at the label on the baby wine bottle and thought about it. “Those two husbands of mine make me scared, too, for different reasons. Buck . . .” she began.
“Your bad late husband,” Kate clarified helpfully.
Linny gave her a lopsided grin. “I let myself feel safe with Buck and look how that turned out.”
“Jack’s nothing like that man,” Kate said.
“I know. Maybe I’m mad at myself for being too trusting.” Linny shot Kate a sideways glance. “Remember his explanations for the lipstick smear on his tie, and the panties in his sport coat pocket? I was so stupid!” She covered her face with her hands and groaned.
“Ease up on yourself,” Kate said firmly. “Buck was a gifted liar. That’s what charmers and con men are.”
Linny gave a grudging nod and pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Andy’s part of the problem, too.”
“Your good late husband,” Kate said, sighing. “Andy was such a nice man.”
“Andy left, though, if you can call dying leaving,” Linny said in a low voice.
“You can,” Kate said and touched her arm.
Linny swallowed hard, remembering. Their house was a fixer-upper and she always had long honey-do lists for their weekends. That Saturday morning, after a too-hectic week, Andy had tried to talk her into lazing in bed with him, but Linny had cajoled him into getting up to help clean the shed that was cluttered with junk left by the previous owners.
Why had she been so insistent? How had cleaning a shed and checking an item off her list been more important than staying in bed with her sweet, sexy husband? Linny rubbed her eyes with her fingers. Time after time over the years she’d beaten herself up about those questions.
From the shed they’d pulled the fertilizer spreader with only three wheels, the concrete blocks, and the broken-down tools. They’d made one pile of items to keep and one pile to haul to the dump. Andy had taken off his work gloves to help Linny tighten a screw on a pair of old loppers she’d found. He was sorting through lumber scraps and pavers when the brown recluse spider bit him. There was the frantic rush to the hospital, and five days later he’d picked up a staph infection and died. As quick as that. Linny shuddered. “If something happened to Jack and I lost him, I don’t know if I could bear it.”
“I know, honey,” Kate said, her eyes alight with sympathy.
All the dark thoughts Linny kept trying to push down came bubbling up. “And what if I don’t make Jack happy? What if I’m no good with Neal? What if we never really become a family? What if someone dies?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m so afraid I’ll make a mistake that I can’t even pick out a wedding date.”
“Or a wedding ring,” Kate reminded her. “Being scared is understandable. Have you talked to Jack about it?”
“I’ve been too busy picking out what he’s doing wrong,” Linny said with a crooked smile.
“Well, cut it out.” Kate gave her shoulder a gentle push, but her expression grew serious. “You’ve had more than your fair share of heartache, but y
ou deserve a wonderful life. You’ve found this darling man and all this joy is at your door. Don’t be too scared to gather it up.”
Linny nodded slowly, knowing Kate was right.
“You know, there’s no rush. You could put off the wedding until you feel ready,” Kate said.
Swirling gusts of cool wind blew back her hair and Linny breathed deeply. The air smelled clean and new. And it came to her. Suddenly, she knew with bone-deep certainty. Turning to Kate, she spoke with quiet intensity. “I’m scared, but I’m ready to marry Jack, and soon. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.”
“Good,” Kate said with a matter-of-fact nod. “Maybe you ought to tell that to the poor man.”
* * *
After Linny washed her face and brushed her teeth, she sat in her bed. Should she call him now and tell him? She’d apologize humbly, own up to all her fears, tell him how much she loved him. But she needed to have a talk with him while she was looking in his forest-green eyes. The conversation had to happen in person. And he’d asked for time. If she could hold on for another two days, she’d see him as soon as she got back to town.
Switching off the lamp, Linny lay in the bed, enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat on the water. A light rain pattered gently on the flat roof of the boat. Knowing her heart and admitting her fears gave her a sense of peace she’d not felt for a long time. Linny closed her eyes, pictured Jack, and let herself be lulled to sleep.
* * *
The next morning she woke to the smoky, rich smell of brewing coffee. Throwing on a fleece and sweatpants, she padded into the living room. Kate was bundled in a blanket, curled up on the recliner, a steaming mug of tea cradled in her hands and resting on her belly like it was a table. Linny gave her a sleepy smile.
“Good morning, sweets,” Kate said. “Perfect timing. It just stopped raining.”
“Morning.” Linny stretched her arms over her head. “You made me coffee, you good person. How long have you been up?”
“Since five-thirty.” Kate took a sip of tea and smiled. “Did you hear the racket? A whole bunch of men in bass boats went roaring by just after I woke up. Going to a bass tournament, I’ll bet.”
“I didn’t hear them. I was sleeping hard,” Linny admitted, pouring a dollop of half and half in her coffee.
Her sister went on, “It was still almost dark and it was raining hard. It had to be chilly. Boat after boat just flew by.” Kate shook her head admiringly. “Imagine loving fishing so much you’d climb out of a warm bed with your wife, put on rain gear, and go out on the water in that weather?”
“I can’t imagine.” Linny smiled, enjoying her sister’s musings. Savoring her first swallow of creamy coffee, Linny settled into the other recliner, glad they’d moved them in front of the window last night so they could take in the view. Neither spoke for a few minutes as they watched the fiery glow of the sun emerge from the mist on the lake. Linny sighed, listening to the music of the waves lapping against the deck. “This is so peaceful,” she murmured, leaning her head back and pushing the recliner back to full sprawl.
Kate nodded, smiling. “We both needed some peace.” She eyed Linny. “Promise me you’ll get this mess straightened out with Jack as soon as you can?”
Linny blew out a sigh and nodded slowly. “I will. I promise, just as soon as I can talk to him face to face.” She raised a brow at Kate. “And you?”
She gave a crooked smile. “I’m going to stick to my guns, but I’ll remind Jerry how scared I am.”
Linny shook her head. “Good. Being vulnerable isn’t a strong suit for Taylor women.”
“I know.” Kate groaned softly as she pushed herself up from the chair. “I need one of those recliners that stands you all the way up,” she said, grinning as she patted her belly. “How about fresh fruit and muffins for breakfast?”
“Please tell me you’re making those ones with the carrots and the coconut.”
“Just like cake for breakfast, only healthier,” Kate assured her as she moved toward the kitchen. “We can walk it off this afternoon if it’s not too muddy.”
As the morning passed, the clouds broke and the sun peeked out from behind patches of clouds. Feeling peaceful and light since she’d talked with Kate, Linny sprawled on the surprisingly comfortable couch, burrowed under her blanket, and read Margaret Maron’s new novel. Kate eased back in her recliner and needles clicked as she worked on a knitting project: a complicated-looking pair of baby booties.
* * *
After noon Kate made peanut butter and banana sandwiches on wheat bread and served Linny lunch while she lounged.
“This is the life,” Linny said with an appreciative smile as she took the paper plate Kate offered her.
“I’ve got brownies with caramel pecan sauce for dessert, so save room.”
Linny groaned. “This boat may sink if we don’t take that walk later on.”
“We will,” Kate said serenely as she sat, balanced her plate on her stomach, and pulled the lever on her recliner. “I’m getting so I love this chair,” she said happily.
* * *
Later in the afternoon the sisters bundled up against the cold and found the deer path Diamond had said surrounded parts of the lake and was good for hiking. Hands on hips, Linny surveyed the path. “It’s high ground, so it’s not very muddy. Are you sure this won’t be too much for you?” she asked, watching her sister step over the protruding root of a tree.
“I’ll be fine. Dr. Grace wants me to walk. I feel great. Invigorated,” Kate assured her, spreading her arms and making a show of taking a deep breath of fresh air.
Linny nodded but started off at a slow pace as Kate followed. They’d keep the walk brief. A vee of geese flew overhead, honking to one another as they traversed the sky. The waves of the lake ran in small whitecaps and the wind ruffled Linny’s hair. Breathing in the rain-washed air, she savored the smells: the clean scent of the air after rain, whiffs of woodsmoke from someone’s fireplace or brush burning, and the musky smell of damp earth. It was just how a lake should smell. The two fell into a comfortable gait as they made their way around the lake. Linny felt sure-footed and young and remembered hiking with her sister on paths through the farm when they were girls. “Do you remember our rickety tree house?”
“Yup,” Kate called. “We read up there and ate a lot of Oreo cookies. Do you remember hunting for sassafras to make tea?”
“I do,” Linny said, smiling.
Kate pointed out deer tracks, and the two stooped to look at them more closely.
Soon Linny noticed other animal prints in the muddy bank. Foxes, raccoons? Way too small for bears, she reassured herself with a small shiver. As she stepped down an eroded section of the path, Linny’s legs shot out from under her. “Ooph,” she called as she thudded onto the muddy bank.
Kate hurried to her, her eyes lit with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Linny scrambled to her feet, gave her knees a tentative bend to make sure they were okay, and glanced at the back of her jeans, which were coated with mud.
Her sister tutted and tried to brush off the biggest chunk of mud from Linny’s pants legs.
Thank goodness Kate hadn’t taken the spill. Picturing a round-bellied, ashen-faced Kate lying at a crooked angle at the bottom of an embankment, Linny’s heart thudded. “Hiking on a muddy path in the middle of nowhere might not be such a great idea,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s time to head back.”
Kate shrugged. “I’m okay, but that’s fine.”
Linny pivoted on the path to head back toward the houseboat and Kate followed. After a few minutes, Kate began to whistle.
Linny smiled and shook her head as she held back a branch to keep Kate from getting thwapped in the face. Her sister was a skilled but distractible whistler. Listening hard, she thought she recognized a Miranda Lambert song. Then Kate segued into what sounded like the theme of The Bridge on the River Kwai, a song they’d learned a long time ago on a Girl Scout
hike.
Her eyes sweeping the uneven ground for the section of path with the least muck and the most even footing, it took Linny a moment to realize the whistling had stopped. Pausing, she looked back and saw her sister had stopped a few paces back. The back of her neck prickled when she saw her sister’s pasty pallor and the fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead. She gazed at Kate intently. “You all right, girl?”
Her sister waved a hand dismissively. “Just a little pain in my chest. It’s probably that I ate three helpings of that slaw with the radishes in it.” She tried to smile.
Good lord. She needed to get them back home, fast. Linny tried to let herself be reassured. Kate had been plagued with bouts of heartburn all through the pregnancy. Trying to appear unruffled, she nervously scanned ahead to see just how much farther they had to go. Around a curve in the path she saw the end of the dock and the bow of the houseboat. Feeling weak-kneed with relief, she took Kate’s arm and resumed walking at an even slower pace.
By the time they’d reached the dock Kate’s brows were furrowed and she was rubbing her stomach. “I just need to sit down and put my feet up,” she said.
Linny nodded but ran through a mental checklist of what they needed to do to get packed up and gone. They needed to get back to civilization pronto. Trying to keep her voice calm, she said, “Let’s get you in the recliner. I’ll bring you some cool water and we’ll head home.”
“Maybe it’s just the baby’s changing positions,” Kate protested, but she closed her eyes and began to slowly breathe in and out.
Linny watched her sister and tried to think. Kate couldn’t meditate away this problem. “Do you want me to call nine-one-one? Should I call Dr. Grace or Jerry?” Linny asked tersely.
“No. Let’s not panic.” Kate held up a hand. “I don’t want Jerry to get upset over nothing, and if I called Dr. Grace every time I had a stitch in my stomach over the course of this pregnancy, I’d be too busy phoning to teach. Let me just sit for a minute, and if it doesn’t pass, we’ll call her.”
