“He’s a fine man.”
Anyone named Morris would have to be a fine man because he sure wouldn’t be might-tee-fine in the looks department.
Walking toward the edge of a mossy creek, Spin glanced at Jacquie and pursed her lips. “Put that damn cigarette out. You’ll torch the whole place to smithereens and then the memory will be gone.”
She crushed the cigarette’s cherry against a rock, made sure it was completely out, then joined Spin, taking her by the elbow. “I don’t think you should be walking all the way down there. It looks too steep for you, Spin.”
“If you keep hold of me, we can make it.”
Jacquie didn’t want to, but Spin gave her a pleading look. The woman had nostalgia written in her eyes. Evidently this was a special place for her, and she might not ever get the chance to come back. “Okay, Spin. Hold tight.”
The embankment wasn’t as steep as Jacquie had thought, but little pebbles slipped into her shoes, making it uncomfortable. Once at the bottom, she situated Spin on a bleached boulder that was warm from the sun. Feeling better about things now that Spin was safely here, Jacquie shook the rocks out of her shoes.
“So you and Wally came here fishing, huh?” Jacquie made a panoramic sweep of the area, noting the quiet beauty and interestingly enough, appreciating it. A magpie squawked from a tree; the trickle of running water was actually soothing.
“All the time. This was our spot. We did everything here, if you get my meaning.” A far-off look glazed Spin’s eyes.
“Yeah, I get it.”
Rather than being on sacred ground, Jacquie was standing on sexual ground. The thought brought a smile to her mouth. Not in a bad way, but fondly. Knowing Spin was reflecting on being intimate with her husband was a nice thought.
And God knew, Jacquie lacked sentimentalities like that.
She’d given up on Drew, that dream having died. Oddly, he hadn’t been that hard to let go of once her mind accepted the fact that it needed to end. For the past year, she’d really been trying to put a square peg into a round hole. Her and Drew, they just weren’t real compatible in the long haul. She wouldn’t have known what to do with Mackenzie if they’d ever committed to one another.
Jacquie wanted a man who was okay without children. Maybe they would do some traveling, just be together for the sake of being together. Of late, Jacquie realized she just had to have a man who was mad for her. She didn’t think that was detrimental. Just honest.
Speaking in a faraway voice, Jacquie asked, “How come you and Wally never had kids?”
“Selfish.” Spin readjusted herself to sit more comfortably. “There’s nothing wrong with two people only wanting to spend time with one another.”
“Not very many people would admit that.”
“They should. Wally and I were in love. We fulfilled each other. I had my career and he had his. It worked out for us.” She gazed at the trees. “Morris never had children, either. He’s divorced.”
They sat quietly for a long time, just listening to the sounds of nature, the whisper of trees.
“Jacquie?” Spin’s distant voice broke into Jacquie’s thoughts and startled her.
“Are you okay?” She was by Spin’s side, looking down into her weathered face. Oh my God, she hoped like hell she had cell service out here in case Spin needed help.
“I’m fine, Jacquie. I’m better than fine.” She smiled, a deeply satisfying smile of utter contentment and knowing peace. It was as if the aches and pains that had been troubling her had subsided and she was years younger.
“Don’t scare me, Spin.”
“I won’t, Jacquie.”
Jacquie sat down next to her, inhaling the fragrant air and the rich ground. The musty scent of moss and the floral hint of flowers somewhere in the brush.
“Jacquie…?”
She turned toward Spin. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for being my friend. I love you.”
A lump formed so swiftly, so quickly in her throat that Jacquie felt light-headed. At no time in her entire life could she ever recall those three words meaning so much. They were altogether potent and meaningful, deeply moving and utterly heartfelt.
For long seconds, Jacquie almost couldn’t compose herself.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she took Spin’s hand. “Back at you, girlfriend.”
Raul didn’t care that he’d almost been run off the road by that polished silver Jag of Jacquie Santini’s. Psycho-nut-ball Realtor. Raul had better things to do than to trouble himself over a near-miss with a car. For one thing, he had some serious gloating to do.
He’d just scored the coup of the century and, quite possibly, of his life: the personal chef gig for Hollywood’s hottest gay couple—movie producers who were in town through Labor Day.
Beating out that Lucy Carpenters for the job was a rich reward, given the hellacious month he’d had competing with her. She thought she was pretty smart at the Fourth of July. But she didn’t have the know-how to land the really influential clients like the Raul did. He knew the ins and outs, the best way to do things. That was why he was the best. The only personal chef to hire.
But he hated to admit that Lucy had given him a buck for his bang…a run for his money, as you say.
He found out she’d interviewed before him and the men liked her food choices—they’d told him so. They raved about her diversity and flare. Adored her as a creative woman and wanted to all but flambé her with compliments.
After so many years in the biz, Raul knew how to turn himself into a human chameleon when necessary. Today he’d become the gay chef, the man who “understood” what being gay in today’s society was all about. Feminizing his language and walk, his savoir faire, had been easy. Raul had seen The Birdcage a dozen times.
Being faux fruity had been his meal ticket.
The producers thought he was fabulous. They gave him air-claps and they’d cinched the deal with a champagne toast and limp-wristed handshakes.
Thank you, Lord Jesus. Raul crossed himself again, something he had been doing just as that Jaguar raced toward him.
Never count too many blessings.
On that thought, he crossed himself once more while driving on Main Street toward Sutter’s Grocery to stock up on supplies.
Score one for the Raul.
Matt sat at the kitchen table with his mom and brother, all of them eating dinner together. It was nice his mom had made them their favorite—homemade mac and cheese, chicken and carrots.
They hadn’t been eating together as much since coming to Red Duck, what with Mom having to work, and Jason being at Woolly’s.
Things had changed a lot. Sometimes Matt got bummed out about it. He wished they were a family again, with Dad at the table, Mom and Jason and him. And they were all goofing off and talking about what they did all day at school or work.
But this wasn’t bad. He loved his mom. She was a good mom and she’d been doing good for him and Jason. The house they lived in was fixed up pretty nice, even though the porch was busted. He’d gotten used to no Internet and no cable. Their TV only tuned in ten channels. But he never had any time to watch it, anyhow.
Ada had him walking more dogs over the summer, since people were here on vacation. When he thought about it, Matt figured he was a pretty lucky kid to live here all the time. He liked it. When he was in town, the trees on the mountainside seemed like they jumped out at him. The air smelled like fresh laundry. The ski runs looked neat even without snow. He liked the metal lift chairs dangling from poles. There were the regular guys who sat outside, in front of the Mule Shoe, when he walked past and they always said hi to him.
He liked Bud, the guy who owned this house. Bud had given him five bucks the other day, just because he felt like it. Matt bought some comic books and candy.
Jason was doing better. He liked hanging out with Mackenzie. She was pretty. Matt knew his brother liked her. All the guys on the team thought she was hot.
Taking a drink of his
milk, Matt wrinkled his nose. He didn’t think girls were hot yet.
“Jason, do you think you guys will make the playoffs?” Matt asked.
“Doubt it.” Jason shoved a big bite of mac into his mouth. “Now that Ryan wrecked his wrist, we’re screwed.”
Their mom frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good word choice, Jason.”
“But it’s true. We’re screwed.”
His mom frowned again, but she didn’t say anything more. She’d come home from Drew’s house and had been real quiet. Maybe she was tired from all the cooking. But she didn’t act tired while taking off her shoes and putting on her slippers. She’d acted funny, like she was waiting for someone to come over at any minute, or maybe like she had to leave at any minute. She seemed anxious, glancing at her cell phone.
When it rang, she jumped.
“That’s going to be Mackenzie,” she exclaimed, rising to her feet.
Then Jason said, “Well, then it’s for me.”
But Matt was too quick and he grabbed it, since it was the only phone they had in the house and maybe it was for him. Sometimes he had boys from the team call him up and want to go to a movie or sit out at the ice cream place and eat scoops of chocolate fudge.
“I got it, Mom!” he hollered, scraping his chair legs from the table, then speaking into the mouth piece. “Hullo?”
“Who’s this? Mattie or Jason?”
“Dad!”
“Hey, Matt. It’s your dad.”
Matt flopped into the overstuffed armchair and dangled his legs. “What’re you doing, Dad?”
Glancing at his mom, he saw her expression of wonder, as if she was thinking something bad.
“Just sitting here thinking about you and Jason,” Dad said. “I sure miss you boys.”
“We miss you, too, Dad. We’re going to see you this Friday. I already got my ideas for what we can do. We can go fishing in the river—Bud said we can use his tackle, and I can take you to Ada’s and show you the dogs and then we can have burgers at Woolly’s and make Jason clean up our table—”
“Shut up,” Jason scowled, but with a smile. “I’m not cleaning up after you guys.” Then his brother got quiet for a sec, as if he was trying to decide something. “Tell Ga—tell Dad I said hi.”
Matt felt better. “Dad, Jason says hi!”
Their dad replied, “Tell him hi back.”
Kicking his feet to the side of the chair, Matt asked, “So what time are you going to be here?”
“That’s why I’m calling.” His dad didn’t say nothing for a long time.
“Dad?”
“Matt, I won’t be able to come up.” Matt’s heart sank into his stomach. “I’m having a little bit of a financial problem down here. I can’t seem to get the money for an airline ticket up that way. You know how it goes. I’ve got to pay child support and that about taps me out. But I’m thinking of you boys all the time.”
Matt didn’t say anything, and maybe the look on his face said everything. Because his mom came over to him and took the phone. Matt let her. He went back to the kitchen table, sat down and gazed at Jason. “Dad’s not coming.”
Jason’s nostrils flared. “Effing bastard. I knew it.”
Their mom went outside, onto the porch, but Matt wasn’t even interested in listening. He had a stomachache now.
After a couple of minutes, she came back inside, stood in the doorway and folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Mom,” Jason said, looking up at her with his chin down. “Gary’s an ass.”
“Jason, I really don’t think you should say that.”
“I don’t care. It’s true.”
Matt wished he could cry, but in a way, he just didn’t feel like it.
“Okay, I have an idea.” Mom came toward them, her brown eyes happy even though her face was sad. “Let’s get out that old tent we have and pitch it in the yard. I call campout-sleepover, and we’ll even make a fire to roast marshmallows.”
“Yeah!” Matt smiled, a surge of excitement hitting him.
Even Jason shrugged with a half smile. “But, Mom, last time you put that tent up for us, it collapsed.”
“I never claimed to be perfect.” She set the cell phone on the counter, put her hands on her hips and gave them a loving glance.
Matt fought tears. He jerked to his feet, put his arms around his mom’s waist.
“I think you’re perfect, Mom.”
Even Jason got up and hugged Mom. It was just the three of them, but that was okay. They loved each other.
Twenty-Four
The plan must have worked.
Lucy woke up early, sunshine streaming through seams in the thin tent and blinding her. She put one of the pillows over her face and closed her eyes, her body sore from having slept on the ground. She was getting too old for this.
The boys were still out like lights, each a lump in sleeping bags zipped up tight, with shaggy hair sticking out of the openings. They’d stayed up late, toasted marshmallows, talked about the new school year, which classes they wanted to take. The things they’d been doing over the summer, and baseball.
Sleeping with her cell phone close by, Lucy had expected Mackenzie to call to say the plan hadn’t worked, that Drew didn’t care and they hadn’t talked things out. But they must have.
Grateful, Lucy smiled in spite of feeling as if she’d slept on a pile of rocks. Checking the time on the front of her phone, she had to squint.
Almost seven.
Dragging herself out of the sleeping bag, Lucy left the boys and went inside to put on coffee. She padded into her bedroom and sat at the vanity, gazed at her reflection and frowned. She looked awful.
A quick visit to the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth and brush her hair into a ponytail had her feeling better. Thankfully, she’d taken a shower before bed, so her legs were shaved and smooth for a pair of shorts and a tank top. Already, the day’s heat seeped into the cabin. It was going to be a hot one.
Lucy sat back at the vanity and applied marginal makeup. A little blush and mascara, a light coat of lipstick. She preferred pink. She swiped on deodorant and sprayed apple blossom body splash on her neck. Inhaling, she looked at herself, satisfied. Almost content to the degree that the past had been left in the past. No longer was Gary able to affect her. His not showing up was not surprising. Was it going to ruin her day? No. Was she going to feel guilty about it for her boys? Yes…
That’s why she’d camped out with them last night. But in the past, she would have brooded the rest of the day and thought about how she could get Gary back, and make him suffer the way she was suffering.
But the funny thing was, she no longer suffered. She’d finally hit neutral. What Gary Carpenter did and who he did it with was no concern of hers, and his actions weren’t going to bother her.
Lucy slipped on a pair of flip-flops. Today she intended to give the house a cleaning. Dusting, sweeping, shaking out area rugs and scrubbing the bathroom.
The sound of a car pulling into the yard caused her to glance out the front window. A deep-gray-and-chrome Hummer had pulled up next to the lilac bush.
Drew Tolman was here.
Going to the door, Lucy wondered what made him show up all of a sudden. He’d never come over, she’d never invited him. Living in a teardown wasn’t exactly a place she wanted to have company visit. She’d been thinking about finding some place permanent, but that was a long way off. Maybe by Christmas she could save enough for a small condo. The odds were unlikely, but with prayer and luck, it might very well be doable.
She went out to the porch, one hand on her hip and the other shading her eyes. “Hey, Drew,” she said, her voice sounding sleepy. His name was the first thing she’d said since waking. And it felt good to say it.
“Morning.” He glanced at the tent. “Rough night?”
She smiled. “The boys and I had a campout. They’re still in there sleeping.”
Drew looked too good in a pair of khaki shorts and a white linen shirt that hung to his narrow hips. His face was tanned, as were his muscular arms. A hint of stubble shadowed his jaw, as if he’d shaved just before bed, but not this morning. He had on black leather flip-flops.
Pocketing his SUV keys, he came toward her. “I know it’s real early. Is this a bad time?”
“No. I’m making coffee.”
“Good, I need some.”
On closer inspection, he didn’t appear as if he’d rested well. Maybe it hadn’t gone well with Mackenzie last night. Lucy’s initial thought when seeing him was he’d come by to tell her he and Mackenzie had had a great night, connected and come together. Now she wasn’t so sure.
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