Author: Robyn Carr
And it was a good town. As spring gave way to summer, there were community celebrations for graduation, which included parties—Scott was invited to all of them. And the beach was once again a warm and inviting place. Cooper’s house was nearly finished and Scott helped them install shutters, hang shades, move furniture. Quite a few of Cooper’s friends were also on hand to help—Eric, Al, Mac, Spencer, Rawley, young Landon... And those days of working on getting the house ready were always capped off with a beer or two on the deck of the bar next door. There were barbeques on the beach and in the backyards of friends. And it seemed to Scott that to every one of these town functions, whether casually thrown together or by invitation, he attended with his children—four-year-old Jenny and five-year-old Will. Everyone else attended with their spouse or significant other. Everyone except Eric, because Laine was away at the moment, but Eric was constantly seen on the periphery of their gatherings, smiling and talking into his cell phone.
If Scott was on the phone it was either to check on a patient or his kids....
It had been four years now since he lost his wife and he hadn’t even had a serious flirtation since. He thought he could keep loneliness at bay by staying busy, but it wasn’t working. He’d been ready, for a couple of years now, for a new relationship. It didn’t have to be as perfect and loving as the one he’d had with Serena, his late wife. He didn’t expect it to be—they’d been together for so many years before he lost her. He didn’t expect a miracle.
Then, while they were putting the finishing touches on Cooper’s new house, Devon—the best office manager he’d ever had—asked him if she could take a little time off. “I don’t think I have any vacation coming,” she said. “But could I take a few days, maybe five, without pay? Spencer and I want to get married the first part of July. Just a quiet ceremony, close friends only, but we’d like to go away alone for a couple of days. Cooper will see that Mercy and Austin are covered.”
Scott was momentarily stunned. Of course he knew they were planning on marrying. But his life seemed to be filled with people who never expected to find partners and were now not only all hooked up, but also blissfully happy. All he could think of to say was “What if Sarah has the baby?”
“Well, if that happens, we’ll want to rush home,” Devon said. “But there’s lots of backup—Rawley, Gina and Mac, all the teenagers, your nanny Gabriella. For her sake, I almost hope it happens—she’s not due for weeks but she’s already awful big.”
“Of course,” he said. “Sure. Yes. Take all the time you need. And I’ll be your backup, too. Mercy is as at-home at my house as yours. And Austin’s a flexible kid. He’s real portable. He’d be happy with me, with Landon, with lots of people. And Devon, you can have five paid days. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks, Doc. We’ll plan something in that case. We were going to wait till the house is finished but heck, we just don’t want to wait.”
The memory of feeling he just couldn’t wait filled him with the miserable longing that had become his constant companion. Maybe before too many more years passed he would meet someone who made him feel that way.
Again.
Al knew Justin wouldn’t be eighteen until September and there was no guarantee that would be enough to get him custody of his brothers. The case worker he’d been in touch with told him to expect to be told to wait until he was nineteen and suggested he get to work on that GED so he could improve his income, so he could promote himself in his jobs.
As if he had a spare hour for that...
Al was so proud of the kid, ached for the kid. After a brief family meeting in the car, the boys decided that it was probably best not to complain to child services, best not to rattle any cages and get split up or yanked into some even worse emergency foster care. Kevin promised to say “how high” when someone said jump—he wouldn’t take any chances. Al wasn’t crazy about that decision but he understood it. They were scared. He wondered if they’d ever stop being scared.
His greatest solace was in Ray Anne’s arms. He loved her rooftop and loved her on the rooftop. That was where they had not only the most physical pleasure, but also their deepest, most personal conversations. She revealed so much about herself, about the men she’d been so briefly married to, about hopes and dreams she’d given up years before in favor of being an independent woman who wouldn’t ever have to rely on a man. And for his part, Al told her more and more about his brief marriage, his years on the road, his annual trips back to Boone, Iowa, on the birthday of his son, who if he had lived would now be thirty-eight years old.
Instead of saying “Awww, darling,” Ray Anne smiled against his lips and said, “My age.” And they laughed and laughed.
They had that thing going for them, when they could make even the most serious subjects light and humorous.
In early June, while he held her on the rooftop, he said, “I want you to know, I haven’t really loved a woman in so long I forgot what it felt like. But I think this is how it feels. Ray, no matter what happens I want you to know you’re one fine woman and you’ve made me really happy.”
“No matter what happens?” she asked. “Are you terminal or something?”
He just laughed and pulled her closer. “God, no. I’m so healthy it’s scary. But I’ve learned over the years not to forget to say important things. I was on the road when my dad died and never got to tell him how much he meant to me. It was a lesson.”
“Well, then,” she said, “you should know, I think you’re the love of my life.”
“I can’t be. You’re too sexy, too sweet, too beautiful....”
“You are. I’ve been with plenty of men but I think it was all practice. I feel so good with you. Every part of me feels good—the body parts, the heart, the mind, the humor, the part that thrives on friendship. I think, if I had to go back through all the men I’ve known, you’d be the best.”
“I bet you’ll change your mind about that,” he said.
And she had raised over him, looked down into his eyes in the candlelight on the rooftop and said, “No, Al. I won’t.”
The next day at noon he packed up his two duffels, some tools he owned and had been using and drove his truck to Lucky’s. Of course Eric was there. All he did was work since Laine was away. Justin hadn’t come to work yet and Al was glad. He passed the key to the room at the Coastline Inn to Eric and said, “Sorry, boss, but I got a call from a friend who’s in a bad spot. He has an emergency and needs my help. I know this is no notice and real inconvenient and I’m awful sorry. The room is paid up and I’m moved out but I didn’t check out just in case you know someone you want to give it to, what with that refrigerator and toaster and all.”
Eric took the key and shook his hand. “I hope you’ll be back, Al. You’re a great asset to my business.”
“I appreciate you saying that. I know I usually give you more notice but this came up real sudden.” But of course, he didn’t say what it was, exactly.
“Those things happen. If you have the opportunity and interest, you’re always welcome here. We can always use you. Did you tell Justin you’re leaving?”
“I wasn’t able to do that.” He pulled an envelope out of his shirt pocket. “I don’t have much explanation, it’s just a friend I’ve helped out over the years and he counts on me, especially when things go crazy for him. Would you give this to the kid?”
“Sure. Of course. And you have my number, if you need me.”
“I hope I’m not gone too long. Turns out I like it here. This was a smart move for you. And I hope it all works out with Laine.”
“Things always work out,” Eric said. “If I haven’t learned anything else, I learned that. It’s just that while you’re waiting for things to work out, it gets real old. But that’s life, right?”
“That’s life, all right. Good luck, boss,” Al said. And he got in his truck and drove out of town.
Nineteen
Justin showed up for work right at three, clean and pressed. Eric realized that his mother had little or nothing to do with the laundry and ironing of his clothes. No doubt he’d heard Eric ride the old guys about keeping up their uniforms, and needing this job like he did, he towed the line carefully. He wasn’t getting any better at cutting his own hair, so he’d let it grow and was trimming the bottom. In another couple of months he’d just be tying it back in a ponytail.
Might as well just rip the Band-Aid right off, Eric thought. “Al had an emergency of some kind, Justin. He had to leave. He left this for you,” he said, handing over the envelope. “Maybe that explains better.”
Justin tore into the envelope immediately. There was a small piece of paper and a check. “It doesn’t,” Justin said, showing Eric the note. It said, Little help. Good luck. And that was Al’s handwriting, all right. Miserable. He hadn’t written the check. It was a cashier’s check drawn from the local Thunder Point bank. It was for two thousand dollars.
Eric whistled.
“Did he say what the emergency was?” Justin asked.
“Sorry, he just said a friend was in a tight spot and needed him.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess. Everyone should have friends.” He said it like someone who had no friends. Justin put the check and note back in the envelope and shoved it in his pants pocket.
“You want to run that over to the bank before it closes?” Eric asked.
“Nah. That’s okay.” Then he went for the broom to start sweeping up.
Eric followed him. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Justin, that’s a cashier’s check. If it gets lost or damaged, it’s no good. Take it to the bank....”
“I don’t have an account there,” he said.
“Go open one,” Eric said. “You can’t afford to carry around something like that. At least in the bank it’s insured. Even if the bank gets robbed or burns down, they’ll make good on your money.”
“What if I need money fast?” Justin asked.
“Withdraw it from the bank,” Eric said.
“And if the bank’s closed? If it’s the middle of the night?”
“I’ll give you whatever you need,” Eric said, asking himself why Justin would need money fast? In the middle of the night? “If you have an emergency, wake me up. I can get together whatever you need.”
Justin smirked. “I should’a known you were a moneybags.” And he started sweeping.
Eric grabbed the broom. “How are your brothers doing, Justin?”
He shrugged. “They get by okay,” he said. “It’s not good where they are but they can deal for a couple more months. Seems like those people got themselves some slave labor so no one else would have to do chores there. Just the woman and the foster kids.”
“Not good,” Eric agreed.
“If they don’t move fast, they get cuffed,” Justin said. Then he made a motion like a whack upside the head.
“That’s not good,” Eric said more emphatically. “You should tell someone about that.”
“Yeah, we talked about that. But the system could separate them and send them farther away where I can’t get to ’em unless I move and I don’t want to give up the house unless I have to. I got it handled.”
“How?” he asked.
“We give it a couple—three more months. In September I’m eighteen and if they don’t turn the boys over, I’m just taking them out of there. That’s how. We don’t do people like that.” And he tried wrestling that broom away from Eric.