Building a Family

by M. K. Stelmack

  She shuffled along, her wide, curved tail plowing up snow behind her like an upside-down shovel. Ben could tell from her bent head, her long blond hair blocking her face from view, that Connie was as embarrassed as all get-out. What had possessed her to wear that outfit? He was torn between wanting her to turn tail quite literally and call it off, or to keep going and finish now that she’d committed herself.

  “Never seen her in that before,” Mel said.

  “Neither have I,” said Alexi. She made stuffed animals for a living and knew her way around a sewing machine. She might’ve helped Connie. If Connie had asked.

  Shuffle, shuffle, scrape, scrape.

  The crowd gradually fell silent and settled in for the long wait.

  “Ice will have melted under our feet by the time she gets over here,” a man remarked.

  “Not if she doesn’t freeze solid first,” a woman farther along added.

  The divers in the square of open water began chatting among themselves, killing time.

  Connie was about a third of the way there when the plowed-up snow caught in her tail brought her to a full stop. She reversed to loosen the tail’s load but her foot twisted and she fell flat on her back onto the snow.

  The crowd gasped. Beside Ben, Seth moved to swing over the rope.

  Ben grabbed his arm. “Let her be.”

  Seth frowned at him, as if he were cruel or insane. It killed Ben to see Connie down, but it would kill her to have her big brother come to her rescue.

  The same thought must’ve leaped to her mind because she thrust her arms straight up and extended her palms outward, a signal to the approaching volunteers to hold off.

  They halted and waited.

  “Get up,” Seth muttered. Ben’s thoughts exactly.

  “Come on,” Mel said from Ben’s other side. Firemen tilted their heads together, probably consulting about what to do with her.

  “Why is Auntie Connie just lying there?” said Amy, Alexi’s seven-year-old daughter.

  “Just...resting,” Alexi said. Ben supposed there was some truth to that.

  Connie flipped her palms upward and bounced her hands. When she still couldn’t get up, she flapped her arms, like an overturned bird.

  “Oh, I get it!” Amy exclaimed, and began clapping. “Come on, Auntie Connie! You can do it!” she shouted. “You’re the best, Auntie!” Connie flipped to her belly and pushed up to a kneeling position. Stopped. All of Alexi’s four kids shouted to her this time, and a smattering of applause broke out elsewhere. In a single gymnast move, Connie shifted from knees to flip-flops. Stopped. By now the entire crowd had caught on and played along, clapping out and encouraging her.

  She broke into a little dance, her arms moving like a hula dancer.

  Mel, beside Ben, cheered the loudest. Even Seth clapped along with the kids, while Alexi filmed it on her phone. Ben joined the clapping, now that everyone was doing it.

  Here was the woman he loved, dancing along, reversing and zigging to the side now and again to off-load snow from her tail. By the time she’d hopped onto the mat laid beside the square of water, the crowd was wild with its hoots and whistles and clapping.

  Connie gestured to the crowd with fluttery, downward waves to quiet, and they did. She listened to instructions from the guys in the water, then her arms came up like an Olympic diver and in a final set of fast and furious penguin hops she flung herself forward. The slap of her body against the water was like a gunshot in Ben’s ear.

  The divers immediately scooped her out and deposited her on the ice, where attendants bundled her in towels and blankets and lifted her to her feet. She turned to Alexi’s kids and blew them kisses. She waved in the general direction of Seth and Mel, and then to the cheering crowd.

  She didn’t seem to notice Ben at all.

  He didn’t care. It was enough that Connie had shown the town—and her brother—that she could go from flat on her back to bringing on wild cheers all by herself.

  If only she could convince herself.

  * * *

  A QUARTER OF an hour later, Connie’s teeth were still clacking together, despite having shimmied out of the stupid, stupid costume and jumped into her fleece suit, and then into outdoor gear. She shoved the mermaid costume already hardening with frost into a reusable grocery bag and stepped out from the tent.

  Seth was right there, pulling on thick winter gloves. She’d seen his expression of disbelief when she’d emerged from the tent, which only deepened just before she jumped in. Him coming specifically over to tell her the obvious seemed over the top.

  “Before you say anything, I know I looked stupid, okay? I assumed the tailor understood I needed to walk in the outfit. I didn’t check because Dizzy was giving me a ride and I was already making her late. The first time I tried it on was in the tent and...you know the rest. So, save your breath, okay?”

  Seth tugged on the cuffs of his gloves, even though they were already on. “Crowd seemed to like it well enough.”

  They had. When she’d fallen over, she’d stared up at the blinding blue of the winter sky, her bare back freezing to the snow, and figured she’d rather be laughed at than pitied. “Everyone appreciates a good joke.”

  Another pull on the gloves. “Do you want a ride home?”

  The lake water must’ve frozen the nerves in her ear, because she was pretty sure she was hearing Seth being nice to her. Alexi must’ve put him up to it. Ben would give her a ride home.

  “No, thanks, I—” She shouldn’t assume Ben would drive her. It was one thing to catch a ride with him when he specifically came to pick her up from work, but expecting him to do it because he was nearby was a little much. “Thanks, that’ll be great.”

  “Come on, then. Alexi and the kids are hanging out here for the games and stuff. I’ll drop you off in the meantime.”

  He took off, no doubt expecting her to trot behind him like she had when they were kids. She sighed, about to do just that, when she heard her name.

  It was Mel, Ben beside him. “Me and Ben thought you were the best one out there.” Mel always complimented her, even when it was a blatant lie.

  “Waiting,” Seth commented.

  Something must’ve happened for Seth to want her away from the others. Had Ben said or done something to make her brother worry they were a couple again? She didn’t dare look at Ben in case it added more fuel to Seth’s fire.

  “I also noticed,” Ben said loud enough for Seth to hear, “the dollar signs in her green eyes.”

  The perfect deflect. Make her seem greedy in Ben’s eyes, which, given her chronic impoverished state, was pretty accurate. “Speaking of which—” she made a “gimme, gimme” hand gesture “—time to pay up, boys.”

  Mel and Ben dutifully pulled out their wallets. Off to the side, Seth spoke. “You didn’t ask me.”

  Because she loathed to ask him for a stick of gum, even if it would benefit Lakers-on-the-Go. He’d already given too much. “It’s okay. I made plenty.”

  Ben and Mel silently handed over their cash, both men well aware that Seth was übersensitive about family finances with the wedding coming up.

  She could feel Seth watching as she checked off the other men’s names on her long pledge sheet, so she wasn’t surprised at his question: “How much did you make?”

  “Three thousand, four hundred and fifty-seven dollars.” She tucked Ben’s and Mel’s money into her jacket pocket and zippered it shut. “If everyone pays.”

  Mel gave a low whistle. “Way to go.”

  She risked a glance at Ben. The quiet pride in his eyes melted the last of her lake-water chill.

  Her phone hummed with a new message. Alexi’s video of her jump. She waggled her phone at the guys. “Perfect timing. Alexi handed me all the evidence I need.”

  Seth squinted at the screen. “Alexi sent you that?”
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  Connie was a little surprised herself. The two women only spoke on Thursdays, and strictly about the kids. “Without me asking. Which I appreciate,” she added so Seth wouldn’t think her rude.

  “Do you mind forwarding me the video?” Ben asked, leaning back on his heels, as if his request was perfectly ordinary. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

  Connie paused in her text of thanks to Alexi. Had he any idea what he’d admitted to? To them having each other’s number, to keeping in regular contact, to soliciting a video of her to his collection, which he didn’t even have, to suggesting that they had a very recent history. And then he added the clincher, “You ready?”

  For what? A bomb?

  He must’ve read her confusion. “A ride home. As per usual.”

  Seth tensed. If he was a hawk, he’d have let out a loud piercing cry right about now. This was not happening. The last thing she wanted was to push them apart. Again. She was not another Shari.

  She picked up her grocery bag and pulled away from them. “Seth offered to take me home, but I just remembered I should collect my money first. If I need a ride,” she said to none of them in particular, “I’ll be sure to text.”

  She’d be sure to text Mel.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THURSDAY NIGHTS WERE Connie’s favorite nights of the week because she got to spend them with Alexi’s four kids while Alexi and Seth had a date night. Connie would arrive at five thirty for a supper of all-beef hot dogs and chili, and then the real fun started. She’d play Twister, or braid hair or bracelets, or build sky stations in a video game, or stage stupid stuff like walking with two-liter pop bottles between their thighs and tossing popcorn into each other’s mouth. When there was no school the next day, the kids could stay up one hour past their bedtime. One more hour of cuddling four-year-old Callie, playing thumb wars with the boys and styling Amy’s long, black hair.

  She’d had to earn her way into the weekly gig. Mel had been their usual babysitter, but he hadn’t been able to come one night because of a bad cold. Seth had already bought tickets for the theater, so Mel asked Connie to cover. He must’ve done an incredible sales job on Seth and Alexi because they’d agreed.

  Alexi had scheduled everything out to the freaking quarter hour, and Connie would’ve followed it to the T, except that the internet went down, and she’d had to improvise some games. She’d lost track of time, and the kids were still up at 10:45 when Seth and Alexi returned. Actually, Callie had passed out on the couch in Connie’s spiked-heel boots, and Amy was headed for bed as soon as she found her prosthetic leg. It was mostly the boys, Bryn and Matt, who were still flying high from the drink-induced sugar high.

  Seth had driven her home in silence.

  Except the next Tuesday, he’d called her. The kids wanted her back, which didn’t surprise her. What surprised her was that Alexi wanted her back, too. “It meant something to her that you got in there with the kids and made them happy,” Seth had explained. “Between suppers and helping out here, Mel is with the kids nearly every day, anyway.”

  With that backhanded endorsement, Connie booked off Thursdays at Smooth Sailing and typed Kids! into her phone calendar. It was perfect. She enjoyed laughter and hugs and stories, and Seth got a little one-on-one time with the woman he loved.

  But this Thursday, things were...off. Seth was even more tight-lipped with her than usual on the drive to the farm, which she put down to the thing with Ben at the Polar Dip. But when they arrived at the house, the kids had already started their hot dogs in the living room without her. Seth disappeared outside to check his cows and told her that Alexi was waiting to speak to her alone in the bedroom off the dining room. Which explained why the kids were out of earshot.

  This couldn’t be good. How had she screwed up? Had she fed Bryn with his food sensitivities something he wasn’t supposed to eat? Had she upset Callie? She couldn’t remember swearing or shouting in front of the girl, and she’d only nixed snacks because Alexi herself didn’t want the kids to eat right before bed.

  It didn’t look any better when she knocked and entered. Alexi was perched on the edge of a chair in her one decent outfit—a plain blue dress with a V-neck, dangly earrings and her hair pulled into a tight twist. She’d look better with a few strands tugged free from the twist, but she and Alexi didn’t have the kind of relationship where they could be honest with each other. They didn’t have much of a relationship at all, really. Less than three months from now, she would get a sister in name only.

  Seth’s silence, Alexi’s formality, the kids’ change in routine. Connie didn’t need any more evidence to know that she was about to be fired from her favorite job.

  “Connie, I was wondering if we might talk a bit.” Alexi gestured to the bed but Connie pretended not to see. She’d take the news standing, thank you very much.

  “It seems that Ben and Seth were talking.”

  The Polar Dip. Or had Ben talked about Trevor? No, he wouldn’t, would he?

  “And apparently the issue of the wedding came up.”

  Connie had no idea what to say. She went with “Okay.”

  “As you know, I don’t have a maid of honor.”

  Connie didn’t know, deliberately staying out of the wedding preparations, which was easy because she wasn’t included. She wasn’t even sure if she was invited. Was Alexi looking for suggestions? “Okay.”

  Alexi licked her lips. “I was wondering if you would consider being my maid of honor.”

  Connie wished she’d sat down. “You can’t think of anyone else?”

  If possible, Alexi’s back straightened even more. “No. I never had...girlfriends. I came here in July, and I realize it’s almost March and I’ve met people but no one...close.”

  Connie could’ve kicked herself for being so blind. If she wasn’t getting a sister, then neither was Alexi. And neither of them would admit that it mattered, so Connie wasn’t surprised when Alexi added, “You’d be doing Seth a favor. He said he’d not have Ben as best man if I couldn’t find anyone, so things would look...balanced, but I know he wants Ben. They’ve been best friends forever.”

  “Since the day they met at age twelve to be exact,” Connie said. If she said no to Alexi, she’d be complicating things for Seth and Ben. She wouldn’t do that to them.

  But if she said yes, the chances of her screwing up somehow were excellent. Then she’d disappoint Seth, Ben and Alexi in one fell swoop. Not to mention the kids, who’d likely feel the consequences, too.

  Then again, if she got it right, she’d be a little closer to crossing out Seth’s name on the list.

  “Fine, I’ll do it,” Connie said. “But you’re not sticking me in some hideous dress just so you can be prettier than me.”

  It was the right thing to say because Alexi rolled her eyes, and they were back to being two people who loved the same man for different reasons. “You and I both know,” she said, standing, “that your dress would have to be made of newspaper and duct tape before I’d be prettier than you.”

  True, but only because Connie knew her way around clothes and makeup. Her beauty was a gimmick only, one she’d show Alexi given time. “As maid of honor, it would only reflect badly on me if you went down the aisle looking anything less than as if you walked off the cover of a bridal magazine.”

  Alexi reached for the door handle. “Well, as long as we recognize that my special day is all about making you look good.”

  Connie made a show of sweeping out the door Alexi opened, tossing over her shoulder, “Glad we’ve come to an understanding.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, browsing through her laptop for maid-of-honor dresses while her nursing textbook lay open and untouched, she forced herself to call Seth. He answered with “What? What?”

  She drew a breath. “Most people say ‘hello,’ you know. Am I special, or do you answer that way with eve
rybody?”

  “Just you. I’m busy. Get to the point.”

  Connie drew another breath. Everything with Seth required deep breaths. She’d had easier interrogations with the police. “So, what are you busy with?”

  “Watching a cow calf and figuring out my vows. I tried Ben but he was as helpful as an old dog.”

  “It’s not his job to write your vows.”

  “What’s the point of a best man if not to get you through the wedding?”

  “I’m sure Alexi wouldn’t be impressed if she heard you were just trying to ‘get through the wedding.’”

  “You don’t need to be telling her.”

  Connie had no intention of telling Alexi anything, but Seth didn’t have to know that. “As her maid of honor, I feel she ought to be aware that you are finding it difficult to hold up your end of the bargain when it comes to the vows.”

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t write them. I just said that it’s hard.”

  “Do you want help?”

  “Didn’t I just get through saying that?”

  “You didn’t. You complained about Ben. You didn’t ask for my advice.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted your advice. For the record, you’re the one calling me. What do you want, by the way?”

  “I—I was just going through Mom’s stuff today—” mostly true, though that had been yesterday “—and there were some pictures here I thought you should have.”

  “Whatever you decide.”

  More than a year had gone by and his hurt over the house being deeded to her was still tender and raw. How to tell him that their mom hadn’t left him without money or a house because she didn’t love him, but because she believed in him and not in Connie’s ability to provide for herself?

  She couldn’t. “There’s a wedding photo of Mom and Dad. You remember the one that sat on the mantel? You should take that for your place. It’ll look nice with the one you and Alexi will have.”

  “Maybe. Anything else?”