A Mother's Strength

by Allie Pleiter

Right there was Molly’s trouble with the world. She was never satisfied with small victories. She was always grasping at marvels and delights. Life was too short for anything less. “Easier said than done.”

  After a moment, she lamented, “I don’t want him to quit now.” She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment at the emotion in her voice.

  His eyes softened. “If it helps, neither do I.”

  That rarest of admissions from him did help. Immensely. Some days it felt as if she needed to know the whole world was pulling for Zack as hard as she was. Molly pushed her chin up and straightened her shoulders. “I am happy for the attempted root beer.”

  He nodded his approval at how she’d given his own words back to him. “There you go.”

  “Do you think...” She hesitated to ask, but it felt like an easier yes to get from Zack than another trip to Mountain Vista. “Could we do the next lesson in our backyard? It might feel like less pressure.”

  Sawyer’s face registered surprise and doubt. She couldn’t really blame him, given that she’d just essentially invited him over. He’d never struck her as an “invite over” kind of guy.

  “He said you just painted a big circle on the grass,” she went on. “I’d be willing to do that. And now, it seems, we have root beer in the fridge.” Why was she trying so hard?

  “Why don’t you ask Zack which he’d like?”

  As dodges went, that one was pretty effective. Molly had people over all the time. She was a people person, always inviting people to things—church, home, committees, events. Why this particular invitation seemed to hold so much weight, she couldn’t guess.

  Except that this was Zack, and every little thing mattered when it was Zack.

  “I can do that. I’ll let you know what he says.”

  Sawyer did finally turn to go this time. “Do that.”

  “He said he liked it,” Molly called after him, determined to end this on an up note. “Not the root beer, but the golf.”

  “Did he?” Sawyer raised one eyebrow at the pronouncement. Was that satisfaction that flashed across his features?

  “Well, not in so many words,” she amended. “He’s not like that. But I was expecting his usual collection of ‘I hate it’ groans, and I didn’t get that. To me, that adds up to an ‘I like it.’” The explanation sounded ridiculous now that she said it out loud. “You did a good thing there, Sawyer.” She got the sense he needed to hear that.

  He made no reply, just nodded his head in acknowledgment and ducked out the door.

  Molly watched him through the windows. She was almost certain she didn’t imagine the smile that crept across his face as he got into his truck.

  What do you know? Sawyer Bradshaw did have the capacity to smile. The satisfaction she took from that made her stand a little taller. Perhaps while Zack learned to golf, Sawyer might learn to smile more. It sounded like a preposterous idea that just might succeed.

  Chapter Four

  “Hi, everybody,” Molly called out as she settled herself at the table with her three brunch companions. “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

  “You’re usually the first one here,” Molly’s friend, fellow single mom and choir soprano Tessa Kennedy remarked. “Everything okay with Zack?”

  Molly reached for a napkin and took a sip of the orange juice already waiting for her. “Hopefully. It’s too early to know for sure, but we might finally have hit on a solution... I think.” No doubt Tessa had already ordered for her since the friends had been meeting for a late breakfast once a week for over a year. They knew she never had anything but blueberry pancakes. “I almost invited someone to join us.” She had actually considered inviting Sawyer to breakfast. The church choir brunch, however, seemed so beyond his nature. She’d already asked enough of the man.

  Marilyn Walker, mom of twins and member of the alto section, looked behind Molly toward the door. “Who?”

  “Zack’s new golf teacher. I think he needed to make more friends.”

  Every person at the table looked startled.

  “You actually went through with it?” Her friend Tessa balked. “You asked the guy from The Depot to teach Zack golf?”

  Walt Peters managed a laugh. “You’ve had some doozies, but this might be your zaniest idea yet.”

  Molly lifted her chin. “You wouldn’t say that if I told you Zack actually tried a new flavor of soda last night.”

  That brought even more startled looks from around the table.

  “You can’t argue with a result like that,” her friend Marilyn admitted. “But come on, you think everyone needs more friends. Choir would be half the size it is if it weren’t for you inviting people. Solos, too.”

  The Solos single mothers’ Bible study had been a lifeline for Molly during all the struggles with Zack. Tessa had been a member since before Molly had joined, and although Marilyn was now happily remarried, no one had the heart to kick her out. “Hey, some weeks, choir and Solos are the only things keeping me sane. Well, choir, Solos and these pancakes.” Molly gave a dramatic sigh of anticipation as the server set a glorious plate of blueberry pancakes in front of her. “Pancakes and coffee are the answer to almost everything.”

  Tessa dug into her omelet. “You sound like Greg. The answer to everything in my son’s life is ‘What do we have to eat?’”

  “Can he sing?” asked Walt. The older gentleman was both the owner of the local pet shop and the deepest voice in the choir. “We need more baritones.”

  “I didn’t ask him if he could sing,” Molly replied. “I don’t know him that well.”

  “You don’t know him well enough to ask him if he can sing, but you’re letting him spend time with Zack?” Tessa teased. “What do you know about him?”

  “He comes in after his night shift for coffee every morning like clockwork.” She doused her pancakes in Gwen’s luscious blueberry syrup. Life didn’t afford her many luxuries, but this was one of her favorites. The good food and great company always fortified her for the second half of her day dealing with the undercaffeinated, impatient customers of The Depot.

  She had held back one crucial detail, but it was time to get it out in the open. “He works security at Mountain Vista.”

  The frowns and scowls around the table were pretty much what she expected. As if her comment had directed their gazes, her companions glanced over to the two tables of Mountain Vista guests in the dining room right now. They were often easy to spot: fancy sportswear, designer sunglasses and a healthy dose of “how quaint” attitude. She tried never to judge them, but the way they often looked down their noses at townspeople made it hard.

  “There isn’t enough money in the world to make me take a job there,” Marilyn said. Before she married Wyatt Walker, her late husband had been involved in shady dealings with the resort. It was a revelation that only soured local opinions further.

  “Sawyer’s never talked about it, but I get the sense he’s not there by choice.”

  “Who would be?” Tessa replied.

  Molly recalled Sawyer’s dark brown hair and the strikingly lighter, near-golden tone of his eyes. There was hardly any light in those eyes, despite their glowing hue. The man always looked as if he was just waiting till some disaster came for him. That was why she knew he would understand Zack. They were kindred spirits. Despite the dubious looks of her friends, Molly’s gut told her Sawyer was the right person to teach Zack.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marilyn asked carefully.

  Molly repeated all the reasons she’d given both Pastor Newton and Sawyer. “Zack needs something not too physical that he can do solo at first. He needs someone very low-key who will be okay with him failing at it at first. So, no fancy golf pro. He’s the right guy for this, I’m sure of it.”

  Walt didn’t look especially convinced, either. “Are things going that badly at school that you’d try somet
hing like this?”

  It was the one question she didn’t really want to answer, even with these friends. Fighting Zack’s anxiety was like shadowboxing. So many attempts to help him felt like clutching at thin air. Was this outlandish idea just a product of her own frustration? Her inability to make any headway with Zack? Was she reading too much into a simple choice of soda?

  “We’d do anything to help Zack, you know we would.” Marilyn’s eyes held sympathy, not judgment, but Molly couldn’t help being envious of how cheery Mari’s twin girls were. They’d been through a huge trauma in the loss of their father, but somehow they’d come out okay, while the pain of his father’s abandonment seemed to wound Zack every single day.

  “I know it’s a wild idea, but I’ve tried all the logical ones already.”

  “I’ll try and talk to him again if you’d like,” Walt offered. The sweet, grandfatherly man had tried so many times to make some sort of connection with Zack, but it just hadn’t clicked. Pastor Newton had done the same, but with no better results. Molly was sure there was a happy Zack in there somewhere buried under all the storm of worries; she just didn’t know how to coax it out.

  “You’ve overcome so much, Molly.” Tessa was always quick with an encouraging word. “You’ll show Zack how to overcome this, too. You’re coming up on a benchmark, aren’t you?”

  Molly hoisted her orange juice. “Two years remission next week.”

  “Amen and alleluia to that,” Marilyn said as everyone around the table toasted Molly’s second year of being cancer-free.

  “I love Zack so much, but he just...stumps me. It’s like he lives on a whole different, darker planet.”

  “And you’re one of the most optimistic people I know,” Marilyn continued. “Of course Zack’s fragility stumps you.”

  Too many people used that word to describe Zack: fragile. She never liked it, even if it was accurate. It always made her feel as if Zack was hopelessly bound to be crushed by a cruel world.

  “He’s a turtle of a soul,” Walt said. “He pulls deep into his shell for protection. It’s not about how they’re parented. It’s just what turtles do.”

  Molly wasn’t sure she bought into Walt’s pet shop wisdom. “So I’m sending my turtle to a golf course. What does that make me?”

  Walt smiled. “You, kiddo, are a unicorn. One of a kind, scattering hopeful rainbows all over the place.”

  “You mean imaginary,” Molly teased back.

  “Nonsense,” Tessa said. “There’s been a unicorn on the carousel for years. Real as can be.”

  The coffee shop was in the center of town next to Wander Canyon’s beloved carousel. One of the best parts about working at The Depot was getting the chance to see children and families grab a bit of joy on the unusual carousel filled with all kinds of animals—except ponies. Who couldn’t love living in a town known for its whimsical carousel? Some of her favorite customers were the riders—young and old—who stopped in the shop afterward, still shiny-faced and smiling, for a coffee or a cookie or hot chocolate. It was a daily reminder of how happiness was possible. Even when it seemed a far reach for Zack.

  “Remember,” Walt said, pointing at Molly with a slice of toast, “the tortoise won the race over the hare. Who knows? Maybe learning golf really will help Zack find his feet in this world. He’s got too many people praying for him to not get there somehow.”

  Molly stared into the blue swirls of her pancake syrup. “Well, everyone pray that this wild idea works. This unicorn is running out of rainbows.”

  Chapter Five

  Sawyer stared at the collection of plastic piping in the Wander Canyon hardware store on Thursday afternoon. He was trying to work out the best way to build a makeshift golf hole in Molly’s backyard.

  How he had let Molly talk him into doing this at her house rather than the safety of the grass behind the golf course, he’d never know. That woman had massive powers of persuasion, and he just couldn’t seem to find a way to say no to even the oddest of her requests. And, if he was honest, Sawyer harbored a small curiosity as to what Molly’s house would look like. Bright riots of color like her clothes and jewelry? Or soft tones and textures like her voice and eyes?

  He’d thought about just borrowing the hardware from the resort, but then he’d have to explain to someone what he was doing. He’d already gone into way too much of an explanation already to get Zack his clubs.

  Sawyer grabbed a short section of plastic plumbing piping and brought it to the counter. “Can you cut me off a four-inch segment? Maybe two of them?”

  The man, whose patch on his shirt identified him as Leo, eyed him. “No can do. Gonna have to buy at least a foot.”

  “Okay, then, three bits of four-inch length.”

  Leo nodded. “Whatcha building?”

  “I guess now I’m building a three-hole golf course.” Why had he just admitted that? And how had he gone from consenting to visit Molly’s house to doing landscaping?

  “Gonna give those idiots up at Mountain Vista a run for their money, eh?” the old man chuckled as he marked off lines on the pipe with a ruler and a pen.

  Sawyer chose not to reply. Some weeks every day showed him a reason why folks here held no love for his employer. That was okay, he felt no loyalty to them, either. He didn’t feel much of anything these days.

  It struck him, just then, that he’d never heard Molly join in the chorus of disapproval for Mountain Vista. In fact, he’d never heard her say anything bad about anybody. Huh. He’d sort of forgotten people like that still existed. Just another way Molly Kane was unique. And memorable.

  “I got an idea.” Leo stopped marking the pipe and looked past Sawyer’s shoulder farther into the store. “Buy a couple of four-inch plastic flowerpots. Sink ’em right in the ground. It’d be cheaper. Drainage built right in.”

  Maybe talking to people had its advantages. “That’s a pretty good idea.”

  Leo smiled. “C’mon, I’ll show you where they are.”

  Wander Canyon’s hardware store wasn’t so large that Sawyer couldn’t have found his way into the garden aisle on his own. Leo kept up a stream of friendly chatter as he moved through the aisles, stopping in front of a young man and a little boy Sawyer guessed to be a few years younger than Zack.

  “Jake!” Leo called to the young man. “How’s married life treating you?” With a knowing wink Leo said, “Newlywed. Car guy. Runs the construction business in town.”

  Without Sawyer’s permission, Leo proceeded to tell this Jake all about Sawyer’s plans to build a three-hole golf course. Sawyer couldn’t entirely be sure Leo was laughing with him, or at him. Maybe talking to people wasn’t such a good idea.

  Jake held out a hand to Sawyer. “Do I know you?”

  It’d be far too rude to say, “No, and I’d like to keep it that way,” so Sawyer simply said, “New in town.” He hoped, but rather doubted, that his answer would suffice.

  “We’re building a tank stand,” spouted the little boy beside him with a grin that showed a missing tooth. “For my turtles.”

  “Just sitting on the bookshelf is so last year,” Jake joked. “The cool turtles all want their own stands now.”

  “Just like you want your own putting green, huh?” Leo said to Sawyer.

  “It’s not for me,” Sawyer replied, then immediately regretted the response. It would only lead to...

  “Well, who’s it for?” Leo squinted at him. “Not too many golfers in town on account of...”

  Sawyer cut him off. “A little boy.” He looked at the child next to Jake. “A bit older than you, actually.” Hoping that would satisfy Leo’s curiosity, Sawyer tried to continue his progress toward the stacks of pots and other garden supplies.

  “What boy in this town wants to take up golf?” Leo seemed scandalized at the thought.

  “Leo,” Jake said. “You don’t have to kn
ow everything to help the guy.” Jake threw an apologetic look in Sawyer’s direction.

  “It’s odd, that’s all I’m saying,” Leo explained.

  “I’m a baseball man, myself,” Jake added. “We’ve got a great men’s team if you’d be interested. Our catcher broke his ankle last month and the playoffs are looking sketchy without him.”

  Did everyone try to recruit everyone for everything in this town? Sawyer had spent most of his adult life in Denver and rarely been invited to anything. He’d already been asked to more meals and events in his time in Wander than that whole time in Denver. His tactic of hiding in a small town had some serious flaws.

  “Not my thing,” Sawyer replied, wishing a man of his size could more easily hide in the store’s narrow aisles. “Thanks anyway.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, just find me at Car-San Construction.”

  “Or Emmom at the preschool,” the boy chimed in.

  “Little Cole’s stepmom runs the local preschool,” Leo explained. Evidently Leo felt introductions were a part of customer service.

  Sawyer grabbed three plastic flowerpots off the shelf and wished he’d stuck with the lengths of pipe. “These’ll be great. Thanks for the help, Leo.” He managed a nod to Jake and Cole. “Nice to meet you.”

  Sawyer was finished with paying for his purchase and halfway out the door before he realized he’d just engaged in small talk. Him, chatting with the locals in the hardware store. How small-town could you get?

  Wander Canyon was getting to him, and he wasn’t sure he liked where this was heading.

  * * *

  Molly looked at her watch. At this rate, she was going to be late for meeting Sawyer at the house. He was a detail guy, and based on his regular appearances at The Depot, very punctual.

  She looked around the carousel house, where the meeting she was in was still going strong. The Wander Canyon Carousel was celebrating its fortieth anniversary in two weeks, and the town was holding a big festival to celebrate. The planning committee—all parents of children young enough to adore the ride, although Wander residents of any age were devoted to it—had already let their children choose which ride they would recreate as a wagon to ride in a Saturday morning parade. Zack had finally consented to participate, and she had been waiting almost an hour for Zack to decide his animal. These kinds of decisions always took Zack a long time.