Harvest Rest

by Teri Blake

  There was more to life than just personal happiness, she’d figured that out when she’d arrived at her sister’s and realized her pain wasn’t going away. She could be happy and help her sisters and do the things they always did, but her pain was still there, knocking on the back of her mind and waiting for notice.

  “I wish I knew. I wanted to run just a few days ago. I wanted to get away knowing you’d be coming back. But I didn’t.” She couldn’t give him the key to her hurt yet. It was too soon. She’d only just discovered it herself. “I stayed to see if we could work this out.”

  He took a deep breath and locked eyes with her. “Do you think there’s a chance? Because if there is, you’ve got my undivided attention.”

  Somehow, those words hit her harder than “I love you.” “I’ll work to fix the problem” was infinitely harder than I love you, anyway. “I think, if we both step out of our way and try to understand the other person, we can.”

  He brought the bowl over and set it at her seat, then got some oyster crackers and laid the bag and a spoon next to her bowl. He always remembered that oyster crackers were her favorite, above saltines. Even her sisters didn’t remember that.

  “How do you know me so well?” And how had he managed to forget so much when he’d been focused on a child?

  “When you think about someone constantly, you remember as much as they’ve ever told you. You hold onto every word that you can possibly recall.” He leaned on the counter across from her. “The bad and the good. I’m sure it’s been the same for you.”

  She chuckled, finally feeling a release from the heavy weight of Becker’s return. “Are you insinuating I was thinking about you?”

  “Well, I had hoped so.”

  He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, especially since he was quite a few years older than her. But that made him more attractive to her. He knew himself. There wasn’t any showboating or fake chest pumping. Becker was a man who didn’t need to act, his simple comfort in his own skin, coupled with his intelligence, was very sexy to her. It had been from the day they’d met.

  “I did think about that day Aryn ‘introduced’ us.” She held in a giggle because it was far from an introduction.

  He rolled his eyes. “Worst day in the world.”

  Aryn had been at the police station after she’d been assaulted by her then-fiancé. She’d called Becker because he was, among other things, a personal injury lawyer and well-off enough to run memorable commercials. They’d both arrived at the same time and fought over who would talk to her first.

  “At least you took my card.” He laughed. “I was worried you’d punch me in the face.”

  “I thought about it.” She sipped the hot soup and though she’d never seen him cook before, it was good.

  “I don’t doubt it, now that I know you. I’m sure the only thing that held you back was that if you were arrested, you couldn’t take care of Aryn.”

  More truth. More memories. Aryn had learned a lot from that awful relationship and hadn’t seriously dated since, unless you counted her current fling with the gardener. Channyon giggled aloud.

  “What’s so funny?” Becker’s honey brown eyes stared into hers.

  “Aryn is always finding herself in interesting situations. She’s currently flirting with the gardener. Which sounds so much more delicious than it really is.”

  He laughed. “Do I need to hire you a pool boy? I suppose we’d have to add a pool to those plans, then a pool boy would be next.”

  Channyon laughed, unable to keep it in. “I’m not so sure about a pool boy in a family-friendly inn.”

  “Oh, I’m sure pool boys are family friendly. Lots of families have probably been started by pool boys.” He rolled his eyes.

  The comfortable banter felt so welcome, yet so strange. “Well, hopefully we don’t have to worry about that with this gardener. I don’t think Aryn will go that far. She likes fun, but she’s not so big on commitment. Not since Jager.”

  He nodded. “Well, Jager went to jail and the restraining order is still in effect for another year.”

  “And we live in another state.” She figured pointing that out was important.

  “That you do.” He suddenly got serious again. “And now we’re back to where we started.”

  Channyon swallowed hard and swirled her spoon around her bowl. “That we are. You don’t understand how broken Karla was. You don’t understand what she’s still going through. Her husband is a first-class jerk.”

  “She has good representation and two other sisters,” he pointed out.

  Channyon bit her lip then finished the last bite of soup. “She does…but they aren’t me.”

  Becker seemed to deflate. “So you’re not going to say any more than that? You’re staying and we’re still not talking? Not really.”

  She brought her bowl to the sink and ran hot water and soap over the dishes. “Becker, I want to talk to you. I want to bring all this out in the open. But you’ve got to start this discourse. The problem, all this, started with you.”

  He shook his head slowly and tensed his body. “I don’t see that. We were fine, talking, planning. Then you got angry, shut me out of your head, then walked away.”

  He threw up his hands. “Please, tell me how that’s my fault?”

  Chapter Six

  Her alarm had been turned off long before it could make any noise that morning. Karla strategically packed lunches for Maisy and Davin as she heard their alarms go off distantly. She’d already done everything that was routine for that morning: drawn up an elaborate first day of school chalkboard for the outside photo, packed their backpacks—though as the years went by they got lighter—set shoes by the door, and packed their lunches.

  As hard as she tried to remember, she couldn’t think of what she’d forgotten. But like that one thing on the grocery list that always eluded her, whatever she’d missed wasn’t about to come forward.

  Davin trudged down the stairs first. “What’s for breakfast?”

  She pulled some muffins from the pantry that she’d made the day before. “Blueberry.”

  “Finally, something normal.” He grabbed one and ate the entire top in one giant bite.

  “Please, don’t choke.” She slid the plate of butter across the table to him.

  Maisy came down next, an old MP3 player stuck out of her pocket and her earbuds filled her ears.

  “Hey! No fair! Mom said, ‘no devices!’” Davin picked up a muffin and threw it at her.

  “Davin!” Karla reached for it, but not in time.

  The muffin hit Maisy square in the chest, leaving a slightly damp and oily smudge down the front of her new shirt.

  She yanked out one ear bud and held out her hands. “What gives?”

  Karla tugged out the other ear bud. “He’s angry because you didn’t listen. And he didn’t either. So, you both will lose your phones right after school today instead of at six like normal.”

  “Mo-om,” Maisy whined. “I’ll be seeing all my friends for the first time in months. We’ll want to talk when we’re done with school.”

  Karla shrugged. “Then do as I ask and you can talk tomorrow.”

  Maisy headed back upstairs to change and Davin slammed around at the table. “Not fair. She got to listen to music. She got our phones taken away…”

  Karla laid a hand on his shoulder. “Davin, you need to stop blaming others. You threw food at your sister. I have never allowed that in my house. Not even in fun.” Food was too expensive and difficult to clean up to throw around.

  “Where’s my bag?” Davin stood and tossed the muffin wrapper into the trash, then picked up the mangled muffin on the floor and did the same.

  “By the door. I put everything in there that you should need.”

  Davin snorted. “Sure.” He grabbed the bag and headed upstairs.

  For an instant, she thought about stopping him. What reason could he have to take his bag back upstairs? What if he forgot it when they left? Th
ere would be no way to get it to him without a car. She opened her mouth, then let it go. The morning had been hectic enough already. They didn’t need to add suspicion onto every other issue.

  Channyon came in from outside, humming a quiet tune.

  “You’re up early.” Especially since she’d had to work the night before.

  “I stayed up late last night thinking then couldn’t sleep in today. I was thinking about why it was so easy to walk away from Becker and why it’s so hard to think about letting him return to me again. I’ve come to the realization that I hate my own drama. I will gladly deal with yours, but I don’t want to deal with my own. Want to trade?” She laughed, but her eyes drooped slightly.

  Karla wanted to reach out and hug her, but Channyon had never been the hugging type. Karla reached for a mug and poured her a cup of coffee instead.

  “Not really, though Becker does seem like a nice guy. Wish I’d known about him longer than a few months…” Withholding her marriage still hurt. Why Channyon felt she had to keep it a secret was confounding.

  “Look, I told you. I didn’t want you to have to think about it. Rob had already told me not to call again, that he wasn’t going to let us come back anyway. He didn’t know that we still talked a little by email.”

  “Only when he wasn’t around. That still doesn’t explain why you couldn’t tell me you were married. I didn’t know then what he said to you, but I knew how touchy he was after I’d tell him I talked to you, so I stopped telling him.”

  Channyon nodded. “Exactly. I figured I’d tell you eventually when you could actually come meet Becker. I mean, I loved the guy. I didn’t figure we’d end up splitting and then I’d be on your doorstep.”

  “Life has a funny way of doing just what you didn’t plan.” If she pushed Channyon too hard, she might squash the good mood her sister seemed to be in. Since she hadn’t been anywhere near so positive in months, Karla tabled the question of secrecy yet again.

  Maisy stomped down the stairs for the second time that morning. “That was a brand-new shirt and it’ll have a permanent stain.”

  Karla handed her a muffin and Maisy curled her lip at it. “Uh, no. I don’t eat muffins. I’ll just make some toast or something.” She bypassed Karla and Channyon and headed for the pantry.

  “So, who’s driving Maisy and Davin to school on this very first day back?” Channyon clapped once in mock excitement.

  “Oh, shoot.” Karla slapped her forehead. “That’s what I forgot. I told Sawyer he didn’t need to bring over his car right away because I couldn’t think of any reason why I’d need it. Rob always took the kids to school. I didn’t even think about that step.”

  Channyon laughed and Karla tried not to cry at Maisy’s mortified look.

  “Don’t want me to take you, huh Maisy?” Channyon picked up her keys in the entryway and jangled them.

  “Mom. Please, no. She can’t drop us off in that old hunk of junk. It’s older than me.”

  “That’s right. It is. That truck is timeless. I’ll be able to give it to you when you get your license.”

  Karla snorted. “I don’t think so. We’ll deal with cars when she gets close to driving age.”

  “Next year…”

  Next year held all sorts of changes she was both ready and not ready for. She’d be divorced by then, Maisy would be driving. Davin would be in high school… “Let’s think about that milestone when it gets closer. Until I get a car from Sawyer, you’ll have to get a ride from Channyon.”

  Maisy groaned as Davin rushed down the stairs. Karla caught a hint of a strange scent as he rushed by and reached out, grabbing her son by the arm. “Whoa, what in the world is that?” She sniffed deeply. It was a smokey, woody scent. “Have you been burning incense in your room?”

  He shook his head slightly. “What? Oh, sure. Sorry, Mom.”

  “I’ll have to air out your room today.” She held her nose. “That’s pungent.”

  “Just, leave it be. I’ll take care of it when I get back. My mess. I’ll clean it up.” He dashed outside to get the front seat before Maisy.

  Channyon glanced from the door where he’d been to Karla and back again. “That’s some strange smelling,” she made air quotes, “incense.”

  Karla had never smelled anything like it. “Do kids still do that?”

  Channyon rolled her eyes. “No. They don’t. He smells like the same smoke the kids do at the pizza place. He’s smoking.”

  Karla stared at the door in disbelief. Her son? Davin had always been the sweet little boy who did everything she told him to. Of the two children, he’d been the easy one.

  “No. It can’t be.”

  “You believe what you want to, but I’m saying right here and now that’s what that smell is. Not sure where he got it or is getting it, but that’s what it is.”

  Believing that he would burn incense was a lot easier than believing her son had taken up smoking. He hadn’t smelled like that any other time. When could he find time to do it and then wash up so she wouldn’t know?

  “I’ll check his room later.” And she’d keep an eye out for him doing odd things with his bag.

  He was only twelve. Wasn’t that too young to ruin his life? She waved as everyone rushed for the Suburban and only after they drove away did she realize she’d forgotten to get first day of school pictures. The perfection that had pervaded her life for years seemed to slip farther and farther away as they drove around the corner and out of sight.

  Perfectionism was her comfort and she could feel the tension coiling in her spine. She trudged up the stairs and pushed open Davin’s door. Before he’d left to live with his father for two months, his room had been clean. All the clothes had been picked up and put away, nothing sat out on the desk or dresser.

  Now, chaos prevailed. Dirty clothes hung from the end of his bed and a heavy scent of sweaty socks clung to the air along with a hint of what she’d smelled on Davin, but it was mostly gone. Karla rushed to the window and flung it open wide. Something sticky attached to her hand from the windowsill and she realized a can of soda had been spilled and dried, thick and sticky on the hot sill.

  This was not her son. What had happened to him over the two months he’d been with his father? Was this a case of neglect, or had he just aged and become lazy? Mysterious piles of clothes and other items laid all over and she was afraid to investigate them too closely.

  Where could he be hiding cigarettes if he was smoking? She slowly opened the drawers to his desk, but all she could find that smelled similar to the offensive scent was a bottle of what looked like essential oil with the label ripped off, though she hadn’t found incense either.

  She closed everything back up the way it had been except the window. The room definitely needed some fresh air. After gathering all the dirty clothes in a hamper, she left his room. Channyon closed the door as she returned from dropping them off.

  “Find anything?”

  “No. Which means he either had it with him, or it’s not cigarettes.” Essential oils certainly weren’t a crime. Maybe he had headaches or something and was rubbing it on himself? She didn’t have a clue about them. “I think maybe he’s just being wholistic.”

  Channyon burst out laughing. “I’m sure smoking weed is wholistic for some people, probably many people. But not your son who isn’t even thirteen yet.”

  “Weed? As in pot?” How could Channyon know that?

  “That’s what that heavy, swampy smell is. It’s pot. I’ll go look.”

  Karla stopped her before she could leave the entry. “No. I think it’s important that I catch him at this. If you or I find it while he’s gone, he’ll make excuses and he will never fess up. I know my son. He needs to know that I know and that I’m not happy. He’ll be more likely to stop doing it then.”

  Channyon shrugged. “That’s up to you. It’s not supposed to be addictive. I’d be watching any packages that come in though, because it’s not legal here. He either got it from his dad or he’s o
rdering it and saying he’s older than he is. That’s a lot easier to do now that you can pick up a refillable credit card at just about any store.”

  They got packages almost every day because she didn’t have a car. They ordered food, delivered by subscription, groceries, clothing… Online shopping was the only way for an introverted owner of a bed and breakfast to shop. Especially one who didn’t own a car.

  Karla dropped down into her computer chair and dug out a journal her lawyer asked her to keep. She opened it up to her last entry and wrote down the date and what Channyon had said. If Rob was the link to the smoking, be it cigarettes or weed, the judge would hear about it. If Rob couldn’t parent when he had them…then she’d have to petition that he would not get them at all.

  That wasn’t what she’d wanted, but he had to at least try. He wasn’t there to be their best friend. She searched her texts and found the last one from him, asking for money. It had been a month before and he still hadn’t paid her back. She doubted he would.

  Aryn came in, wiping her face after her morning run. “Morning.” She jogged in place. “Could you call Sawyer and ask him if Tim could come and do the grass? It’s getting long.”

  Karla hated being the go-between and it wasn’t like Aryn didn’t talk to Tim all the time. “Why didn’t you ask him when you saw him?”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. “I don’t run his way every day. I just figured Sawyer would want to know, since he pays for it. With the extra rain we got, the yards really grew fast. I could probably do it, if I had a mower…” But they didn’t. Rob had taken it, then sold it when he moved to Arizona. Because in the arid region near the Mexico border, there was no need for a riding lawnmower and he just couldn’t bring himself to sell it to her.

  “But we don’t, and I don’t have the money to go buy one. I’ll call Sawyer in a little while.” She still wanted to consider any other possible way Davin could’ve acquired the habit. He hadn’t even been with his friends since school let out last summer.