“Quite reasonable,” Otto said.
A thrill went through me. But it only lasted a moment, as I realized all my time would be spent at the creek, and I wanted to be here. I wanted to make echoes and walk into those openings across the cavern. “I can clean, too, sir. I can sweep and dust.” I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on the cash register. “And I can take money.”
Otto crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “According to state law, I can’t hire you for those kinds of jobs until you’re fourteen. But I’m sure arranging the crinoids in my cases will require a lot of your time. And of course, all cavern employees are welcome to visit the caves for free any time they like.”
I ran home that day bursting with joy until I discovered my mama crying in the kitchen, Audrey crying with her, and Dad on the phone with the authorities. I later learned Valerie was out on her bike looking for me. I felt terrible, but the joy of the caves had a hold on me.
It took quite a bit of convincing—a Sunday dinner with Otto Rutledge, and Dad working on Mama for weeks, before my parents agreed I could sell crinoids to Otto and spend time in the caves. And when they told Valerie and Audrey they couldn’t come along, I’d never felt so happy in all my life.
Over the next few years, I rode my bike to the caves as often as I could. Every single day in the summer, and when Otto shut down the caves from December through February, I marked the days off on my calendar.
Otto took me through those passageways in the back of the cavern. He showed me that he was trying to map all the passages, tunnels, and small rooms, and he taught me the system he used to do so.
A small river ran through a portion of the cave system, and the boat ride and cavern tour was popular with locals and tourists alike. I went on that tour countless times each summer, sitting at the front with Otto and memorizing everything I could about the caves.
Otto and I talked constantly. He told me about his daughter, Poppy, who he loved deeply but hadn’t seen in years. She’d married a man named Dex Morgan and they ran away together and had a son, Jesse. He wouldn’t tell me why she didn’t come to visit, or where she was, but he told me everything he could remember about her childhood. She hadn’t loved the caves the way I did. She loved the forests instead. “Her skin craves the sunshine,” Otto had said. He also told me about his grandson. He hadn’t seen him in years either, which pained him greatly.
One day when I was twelve, we were deep in an unmapped portion of the cave system and Otto had just finished telling me how much he wished he could know his grandson, and that he hadn’t seen Jesse in years. I said, “Otto, I don’t have a grandpa. Mine died before I was born. The way I see it, you need a grandkid and I need a grandpa. You should adopt me.”
He laughed so loudly and so joyfully, I couldn’t help but join in. He hugged me, and I kissed his cheek, as had become our way. “I agree, Cat.” he held out his pinky finger. “I hereby declare myself your grandfather.”
Solemnly, I said, “I hereby declare myself your granddaughter.”
He nodded, and said, “There. It’s settled.”
In the beam of my headlamp, I saw the glistening of tears in his eyes.
But now his real grandchild was back, and painting that old fence I’d offered to paint a dozen times over the years. I’d spent more time with Otto in the last eight years than I’d spent with anyone else. His grandson had been gone the whole time.
I took a deep breath and scolded myself. I was far too old to be jealous. I had a place in Otto’s life, in his heart, and one prodigal grandson wouldn’t change that. I turned back to Otto and smiled, for real this time, and said, “It’s wonderful that he’s here, Otto. Truly.”
He pulled me in for another hug and rested his cheek on my hair. I could feel him smile.
At the end of my shift I walked to my car, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the light. It had been a busy day. I’d given three tours to school groups and had taken a group of hikers on a new trail. I’d also spent some time out front, selling tickets to hikers who wanted to explore on their own.
Usually, Otto was in and out all day. I hadn’t seen him or his grandson at all the rest of the day, but I saw them now, at the fence, painting. It was almost finished. They must have worked on it all day. I thought about going over and saying goodbye, but instead I got in my car and drove home to my family.
Mama handed me the last glass of iced tea from the tray, then walked back toward the back door. “Anyone want dessert? I made sugar cookies.”
“Sit down and rest your feet, Blythe. You’ve been running around all evening taking care of us, now sit and enjoy the sunset with us,” Dad said.
I said the one thing I knew would make her sit. “Mama, dinner was so good and I’m properly stuffed. I couldn’t eat dessert if you offered to pay me to do it.”
Valerie groaned and leaned back in her chair. “Same.”
“Me too, Mama,” Audrey added.
Finally, Mama sat down on the swing beside Dad. Tim and Dianne Asher had come over, Mama and Dad’s best friends, along with their kids, Keaton and Ruby. Audrey had been pulled in several directions all evening, and she looked exhausted. The Ashers left a few minutes ago, and we’d gathered on the back porch to watch the sunset.
“How was work, Cat?” Dad asked.
We’d covered most of the usual topics at dinner, but hadn’t gotten around to that one. I’d been quiet at dinner, and Dad had likely noticed. I put on a smile, not ready to discuss the return of Otto’s grandson. Part of me was still feeling like a selfish brat, like Otto was mine and I didn’t want to share him, and it didn’t feel safe to discuss it. I’d no doubt blurt out something completely uncharitable that I’d wish I could take back. “It was good. I walked the fourth trail with some hikers for the first time today.”
Three trails had been mapped and marked for ages, and people didn’t need a guide for those. Anyone who wanted to come into the caves to have their own adventure, and was willing to sign a waiver, could hike them. Otto and I had recently finished a fourth, very challenging path for the regulars who wanted to work a little harder. Today, I took the first group out. “It was challenging, and my legs are sore. I’m exhausted, but it was a good day.”
Dad smiled, satisfied.
“Should you go on up to bed?” Mama asked, concern in her voice.
I waved my hand. “I’m fine. I need to rest my muscles, not my eyes.”
“Nobody saw Jesse Relic in town today,” Valerie said.
“He’s probably already gone on home to Hollywood,” Mama added, chuckling.
“What would you say to him if you ran into him somewhere?” Audrey asked.
Valerie grinned. “I’d tell him if he wants a good banana split and even better conversation, he can take me to Meadowlark Creamery.”
We all laughed, and Audrey shook her head. “Val, you probably can’t even fit Mr. Jesse Relic into your schedule. Aside from tonight, you’ve been on a date every night for a week.”
Valerie shrugged. “Today counts too, because I met Will Forsyth at noon for a picnic lunch.”
We laughed again, but Mama piped up. “You leave Valerie alone. She’s having fun. She’s seeing what’s out there in the world.”
“Mama’s right. It’s a good way to figure out what I want in a man...or don’t want,” Valerie said. “For the future, of course. There’s no way I’m getting serious at this age. Anyway, you two should do the same.” She sat back in her chair, smiling.
“I’m glad dating around suits you, Val,” Audrey said, “And I know you say we’re too young to settle down just yet, but I think when I find a boy I want to date, I want it to be just the two of us. I don’t want to date a lot of people, and I don’t want him to, either.”
I decided I agreed with part of what each of my sisters had said—Like Audrey, I’d date one man at a time. But like Valerie, I wouldn’t be serious about dating any time soon.
“Well, when you’re ready, Keaton’s got his arms ope
n wide,” Valerie said.
Mama smiled. It was no secret she was all aboard the Audrey and Keaton train.
“Maybe,” Audrey said, but she shot me a pleading look. Apparently I was the only to whom she’d confessed what was happening with Keaton, and her ambivalent feelings about him. It was easy for me to say that she just had to tell him the truth, but I understood her fear of losing his friendship, and also that her rejection of Keaton might insult Mama and Dad’s friends, and maybe even Mama and Dad.
“Who wants to play badminton?” I asked, downing the last of my iced tea and hopping up.
“I thought your muscles needed to rest,” Mama said.
“I’m fully recovered.” I grabbed the rackets and passed them to my sisters. Mama and Dad declined. As we struggled to hit the birdie in the waning evening light, laughing at each other’s misses, I felt at peace. I’d always have my family, and it was only right that Otto have his, too.
Chapter 4
Jesse
My body was used to six workouts a week. Between weight training and cardio, I spent at least two hours a day on it. Painting the fence wasn’t exactly lazing around, but it didn’t give me the endorphin rush I got when I ran. My arms were sore, but my feet hadn’t pounded the pavement in over a week, and I needed something, anything, to pull me out of this despair.
I double knotted my laces and downed the last of my coffee. Just as I was almost out the door, Grandpa said, “Want to help me in the caves today?”
I turned back, keeping my hand on the screen door. Grandpa preferred to open the windows and doors, crank up the fan, and sweat all day instead of breathing in manufactured air, as he called it.
I thought about the caves. Mom talked about them a lot, and the forests surrounding them. She refused to talk about Grandpa, but she brought up the caves often. Mom didn’t love the caves, but her mother had, so she’d go with her sometimes to this one particular spot. It was a fairly easy passageway that opened up into a small room. The room had lights mounted on the walls, and if you were quiet, you could hear the stream rushing by through the thick, rock walls. They’d spread a blanket and have a picnic there, before turning back.
Mom talked about her mom, my grandmother whom I never knew, a lot. Grandma died when Mom was fourteen. Mom was in the middle of her angry, confusing teen years when it happened, and the regret ate her up. She wished she’d spent more time with her those last couple of years. She apparently lacked the same sort of regret for the way her and Grandpa’s relationship turned out after that.
But I wanted to see that cave, the one they picnicked in. And I wanted to know my grandfather. Those two years I spent here, from ages six to eight, live in my mind as the best of my life. I didn’t know what kind of work Grandpa would have me do, but I nodded. “Sure. What time?”
He shrugged as he pulled a mug from the cabinet. “Whenever. Take your run or whatever it is you’re off to do, and come down to the cavern when you want.”
It was nine in the morning. I preferred to run early, with the sunrise, but after all that painting and thinking yesterday, my mind wasn’t able to get quiet. I’d lain awake until two. “I’ll be ready by eleven.” I stepped outside. It was cool out, but the sun beat down on the top of my head. Spring in southern Indiana was beautiful. I stretched in the driveway, then jogged past my car to the gravel road. Since I’d spent some time the other day driving the roads, I knew to turn left. I wanted to run on a sidewalk or other paved surface, to save my ankles the extra work.
After a half mile or so, the road ended in a T and I turned left again, heading toward town. Another half mile, and Alden appeared down a hill. It was like looking through a camera lens. I could easily believe it was a movie set. The storefronts all had matching awnings. Yellow and purple flowers thrived in huge planters on every corner. The brick buildings on the town square, with their decorated rooftops, took me back in time to a bygone era. It was very different from my life in LA, and I found I liked the change.
I ran down the hill, my feet trying to keep up with the gravity that urged me faster. Not wanting to run through the bustling town center, I turned left again when I reached the first sidewalk. The houses were beautiful—large Victorians, sprawling front porches, manicured lawns. Each house was unique and the pride taken in ownership was obvious.
I settled into a rhythm, allowing my mind to wander, when I heard an ear-splitting scream. I looked to my right, trying to identify if there was trouble, to see two teen girls on a front porch staring at me, hands over their mouths, jumping up and down.
“Hi, Jesse!” One of them called.
I raised an arm in a wave, but kept running. But that scene repeated itself on three separate streets. When one girl ran toward me and asked if I’d sign a page in her diary, I did so with as much civility as I could muster, then turned away from town.
I wound around the back roads, unsure how many miles I was logging. I hadn’t brought my phone. I didn’t want distractions. I didn’t want anything except for this run to numb me out. But even running, my mind wouldn’t stop. I hadn’t called Mom yet. She hadn’t wanted me to come here. She wanted me to stay where she could check up on me, and she didn’t want me running to Grandpa. She said I shouldn’t run away from my feelings, and here I was, literally trying to run away from my feelings.
James’s face sprung into my mind. Not the smiling, mischievous face of my best friend that I wanted to remember. No, his face appeared like I saw it last—twisted in pain and shock and horror. I couldn’t get the image to stop. I wanted it to go away, but it tormented me.
I ran harder, faster. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to picture anything at all. A chocolate cake with chocolate shavings on the top. A yellow lab playing fetch in a green field. Those flowers back in town. I’d see those images for half a second, before James’s terrified face rose up to replace them as fast as I could think them. The more I tried not to think of it, the more it appeared.
I stopped by a tree, wiping my eyes and gasping for breath. For a minute I tried not to feel it. I held my breath, held it back. When I could stem the tide no more, I leaned over, hands on my knees, and let James’s face fill my head. I let the tears fill my eyes, and let the pain fill the center of my chest.
I breathed in slowly, focusing on the fist in my chest. It was hitting me again, but after a few minutes, it dissolved into anger. Pummeled by my own thoughts, nostrils flaring, face hot, I stared at the grass under my feet. Hunched over by the side of the road, I waited it out. I got myself under control.
Ahead, I heard a shout. Not again, I thought, figuring someone else had recognized me. I walked behind the tree in a futile attempt to hide myself. When I didn’t hear anything for a minute, I peeked around the trunk of the tree.
A bright teal car was stopped in the road. A woman knelt down by the rear tire, which was flat. I moved around the tree, walking up the road until I came to another tree, where I paused.
The woman was breathtaking. Long, brown hair that glowed in the sun, big brown eyes, smooth skin. But she was tiny. If I, a total stranger alone with her on this back road, walked up and offered to help, it might scare her. Or she might react like the girls in town did. I didn’t like either of those options. But I was being presumptuous. Maybe she didn’t need help. Maybe she was fully capable of changing a tire on her own.
Another shout erupted from her throat. She whacked the tire with the lug wrench several times, and screamed again. Then she stood up and flung the wrench into the ditch. My heart softened to her. Apparently we were both experiencing raw emotion this morning. If it wouldn’t scare her, I’d let out a guttural yell to match hers. I’d love to pick up one of these huge rocks by the road and throw it as far as I could. I’d find that lug wrench so she could give it another toss, maybe stomp on it for good measure.
As I moved to help her, a car came barreling down the road. It parked behind her and a man got out. The woman put her hands on her hips and shot him a death glare. He stood a few feet fr
om her, then reached out and pulled her arm off her hip and toward his mouth. He kissed her fingers. The woman’s shoulders dropped, and she said something I couldn’t hear. She pointed to the ditch, and they both laughed. She had a beautiful, full laugh.
Feeling like I was intruding on a private moment, I turned away, jogging back the way I came even though it would add a few miles to my run. Disappointment flooded me. I wanted to help her. I wanted to feel useful for five minutes. As I ran, I thought there were other people who needed help. I could find some way to make a difference to someone. Nothing I did could ever fully atone, but maybe if I did enough good deeds, it would erase a fraction of the bad I’d done.
Chapter 5
Cat
I arrived at the cavern after eleven the next morning, having decided to sleep late instead of coming early to ask if Otto wanted to map the new passageway. Neither bitterness nor pettiness was the reason. It was fear. I’d spent most of my working day yesterday by myself, when normally Otto would be with me off and on through the day. The whole day, a pit of worry grew in my stomach, opening more and more as the day went by. I didn’t like change, and I could feel it coming.
And I was an hour later than I wanted because of a stupid flat tire. I already felt wilted and sweaty, and it was only the beginning of the day. It didn’t matter that I was late. I didn’t have an official schedule. I was here more than Otto needed me to be anyway, just because I liked it, so he’d never felt the need to assign me specific hours. The cavern gift shop and tours opened at ten on Sundays, but I’d looked at the schedule before I left last night and the first tour today wasn’t until noon.
I took a moment before going in, and scanned the property. No sign of Otto’s grandson. Just the beautiful log cabin entrance and gift shop that Otto and Emily built themselves when they opened this place. I pulled open the door and walked in, determined not to let the idea of change get to me, when I saw a man standing behind the cash register holding a stack of twenties.
Broken Hollywood (Sparrow Sisters Book 1) Page 3
