by L. B. Dunbar
I look from Sam to Giant, whose brow pinches with concern. This man must be in his eighties. I fear his Annie might be dead.
“Where did Annie go?” I whisper, curious about the deep love he evidently felt for this woman.
“California.” His voice carries over the water like a greater distance divided them.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not certain why I apologize.
“Never let anything divide you.” Sam pauses. “Not family, money, business, or a river.” He chuckles to himself for a moment and then turns back for his car. I glance at Giant again. The two men have hit it off. He looks as confused as I feel over Sam’s references.
We each shake hands with Mr. Calder like old gentlemen did in a time gone by. An unspoken agreement sits between us although I’m not certain I’ve acquired the land. Sam mentions the name of his lawyer, who also happens to be his grandson.
“He’s about your age, so when you’re ready to ditch the giant, I’ll set you up.” He winks at me. He’s been a flirt all morning.
“You remind me so much of Annie.” Whoever she was, she held his heart for a lifetime, and mine pinches at the thought of such a memory. Our hearts retain true love, despite its end. Is this how Giant feels about his wife?
It’s sweet and sad, and I want to hug Mr. Calder to assure him she probably remembered him with longing, too.
“We didn’t have these fancy, newfangled cell phones. We communicated through pickle jars.” He chuckles softly to himself, reminiscing about the fodder of young summer love, and once again, his expression shifts to memories far away. Dirty Dancing returns to my thoughts, and I imagine a young Sam sneaking off to parties and kissing his lady friend down by the water. “Can’t remember where I placed the last one.” He looks around the late fall landscape, suddenly confused. “Don’t know if she ever got my message.”
After a moment, he reminds me once again to contact his grandson. “He handles all the money. Told me I wasn’t good with numbers.” I’m sensing his family took away his right to make decisions, but I don’t question why he’s the one meeting us instead of his grandson.
I’m quiet as we drive back to Appleton, my mind racing with Mr. Calder’s hints of once upon a time, and his loss of happily ever after. It’s the makings of a romance novel.
Giant and I stop at a Walmart to buy him a change of clothes, and I snoop around. I rarely go to one of these superstores, so I’m fascinated. I find odd things I don’t really need, like a daily planner, a notebook with a typewriter on the cover, some fancy markers, and a pretty pillow.
“How will you get that in your suitcase?” Giant teases. I shrug.
“Maybe you can keep it for me.” Two weeks and I’ll be seeing him again.
+ + +
“Was someone with you?” It’s the first thing my uncle says to me as I enter the office on Monday.
“Excuse me?” I don’t know why he’s asking although I know who he’s referencing.
“Mr. Calder’s attorney contacted me. He told me you met with his grandfather.” I stare at my uncle. What is he getting at? Samuel Calder, property manager. “You were supposed to meet with him. Drake Calder.”
No. No. “The paperwork clearly said Samuel Calder.” I’m adamant I didn’t misread the email confirming our meeting time and location.
“Samuel Drake Calder,” my uncle emphasizes. “The grandson. At his office in Knoxville.”
“Knoxville?” I would never make a mistake like this. Caldwell Woods was the location. I knew where I was going. Not to mention, I wasn’t far from Giant. I brush away the thought. If my uncle discovers I entertained seeing Giant as a secondary mission the moment he mentioned Tennessee, he’ll accuse me of being flighty.
“The documentation reads to meet Mr. Samuel Drake Calder at his office. Instead, you met his grandfather at the property location.”
“How did his grandfather know to be at the property then?”
“That’s a very good question.” Uncle Frank glares at me, but the question I’ve asked is the same one I want answered.
“Mr. Calder was very excited about a resort on the property.” I recall the time Giant and I spent with the man. He wanted it restored to its original glory. For my Annie. He was so sweet.
“The old man wants one built there, but he isn’t selling.”
“Yes, he is. We shook on it.” He gave me his word I could have the property. I realize as I’m speaking how ridiculous I sound.
“First of all, nothing’s ever permanent unless it’s in black pen on a dotted line, Olivet. Secondly, Mr. Calder’s attorney, the old man’s grandson, was quite adamant the property will not be sold. Now.”
“Then why did you send me there?” Is this a test? I don’t understand.
“Because the grandson was willing to sell the land until you spoke to his grandfather.”
“I don’t understand.” I don’t.
“It appears the old man won’t part with the land for some silly reason.” Silly? Annie? It’s romantic! “The grandson has the power of attorney for the property and was going to sell despite the old man’s objection.”
“Well, that sounds awful, trying to sell a man’s land out from under him.”
“Mr. Calder isn’t of sound mind.” Frank levels a stare at me as if that should explain everything.
“He seemed lucid to me.” I think back on our conversation. His humor. His flirting. His recall of the resort and a woman who never left his heart. “He was very excited about a resort on the property.”
“Because he thought you were a builder. You and your friend. He thought you were there to rebuild the former resort, not purchase the land for another resort company. He was very confused.” My uncle stares at me as if I confused the man and I’m to blame for twisting things. This doesn’t make sense. The papers stated the location, the owner, the meeting time.
As if reading my mind, my uncle twirls a pile of papers on his desk and pushes them toward me. It clearly states the property for purchase. The owner’s name as Samuel Dean Calder. Meeting time at eight thirty in Knoxville.
Wait. Hold up. That’s not what…
“I don’t understand,” I repeat. How could I have been in the wrong place, miles from where I should have been at the right time? How was the older man there? “He was waiting for me.”
Uncle Frank shakes his head. He doesn’t believe me.
“It seems your friend made quite an impression, and Samuel senior went back to his grandson to tell him of the good news. Imagine Drake’s confusion as he’d been wondering where his eight thirty appointment had been, and he discovers you’d been at the property with his senile grandfather.”
Again, I wonder how Samuel Calder, the elder, was present at the property, and my heart sinks at the slow realization that I’ve majorly fucked this up. An intelligent, organized businesswoman and I’ve made a huge mess of this second chance given to me by my uncle.
Where was your head? I can hear Frank asking without him asking. Giant. My head was wrapped around Giant as were my legs and my heart.
“There must be a mistake. I’ll just call—”
“You’ll make no calls,” Uncle Frank warns. “In fact, you’re staying put. I don’t know what’s up with you, but for the past two weeks, your head has been in the clouds. Just when I thought you were finally buckling down and getting serious about being a partner. This is the second attempt at a large land purchase you fucked up. Is this all that baby business? Are you hoping to get pregnant instead?”
My mouth gaps open to defend myself, but he continues. My uncle has never spoken to me like this before. He spits out the word pregnant like it’s acid in his mouth. Is he insinuating I’m sleeping around?
“We’re keeping you local, Olivet, where we can monitor your sales and assist you. I can’t afford to lose more deals because of you.”
My chest hurts, stabbed by his words. I didn’t do anything on purpose, and he’s making it sound as if I have.
“But he was there…” My voice drifts as I see my uncle wants no explanation, no excuses.
“Dayna’s going to speak with the grandson and try to smooth things over.”
“Dayna?” I shriek. Not only will she be the ultimate betrayal, especially if she does secure the property, but honestly, I think she’ll muck it up even more. It’s the second time in a month we’ve tried to obtain land with questionable means, and I’m relieved we haven’t gotten what we set out for. We don’t appreciate the history of these people or the land they love.
“Plant your feet back on the Earth,” my uncle demands, implying my head is in the clouds, but he doesn’t realize how much I want to do just that. Dig my toes in the dirt. Dip my hands in a river. And enjoy.
I stand to dismiss myself and walk out of his office.
+ + +
“He what?” Giant asks, and I ache for him. It’s been twenty-four hours, and I miss him already. I don’t know how I’ll last for the next two weeks. I want him to hold me. I want him to distract me. I want him here.
“He accused me of not being dedicated to becoming a partner.” I pause, letting the words swirl around me as they have from the moment my uncle spoke them. Was he really wrong, though? Do I want to be partner if these are our practices? Yes, think of the baby, the one I don’t have. Giant’s prolonged silence rouses me.
“Hello,” I call out, wondering if I’d lost the connection.
“Can I ask you something?” His tone is serious and quiet. I hear the hesitation, and my blood races through my veins.
“Sure.” I’m not confident in my answer, but I won’t deny him anything.
“Do you really want to be partner, Cricket? I mean, you told me you took the job because you didn’t find anything else.” He pauses again, and I recall telling him these things. How I fell into a rut and stayed. “You could always do something else.”
“If only,” I snort, but wasn’t I just thinking these same thoughts?
“Why not?” He’s silent for a moment as if he’s waiting for an answer. I’m waiting for an answer.
Why not?
“Because I’m forty, and this is the only work I’ve ever known.”
“You can learn something new.” He pauses. He thought he’d always be military and now runs the brewery. “Are you happy there? You don’t sound happy there.”
“No, but that’s not the point. I need this job.” This job is security for me. It’s what I need to prove I’ll be a sound provider for a baby. The agency assures me my employment status is imperative to receiving a child.
“What about writing?” I’ve been thinking a lot about Mr. Calder and his story. The hints of his love affair linger in my head. The way he spoke of his girl. The memories so vivid. The pickle jar love note.
“It’s not that easy.” I sigh in exasperation. However, curiosity haunts me about the old resort, Sam’s romance, and the mystery of the past town, but I can’t just drop my job and write a book, hoping it will make me the kind of money I need.
“I could provide for you.” The comment brings an awkward silence. I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s a generous offer, and I know he means it wholeheartedly, but I couldn’t accept.
“That’s sweet of you, but it’s not about me.” I wait a moment for the rest of the statement to sink in.
Are you trying to get pregnant? My uncle’s words still sting.
“Right. A baby.” He doesn’t ask about the progress of my application, and I’m wondering if he’s one more person on board the Letty-shouldn’t-do-this train. I’m too emotionally exhausted to argue with him and ask him what his tone means. Giant sighs.
“Will he fire you? Because of me?” I’ve told Giant about the misunderstanding and who Sam Calder thought we were. The genuine concern in his voice makes my heart ache for him again.
“He won’t fire me because I’m family.” Uncle Frank would never let his sister down by letting me go even though he’d love nothing more. He doesn’t have his own children, so his only hope of continuing the legacy of Mullen Realty is through his nieces, or at least Dayna especially since she has Hudson. I wouldn’t trust either of them, but that’s just me. The future of the company seems secure, at least from one niece.
“I can’t wait until you’re back here and see how a family should treat you.” The comment stings because it implies my family doesn’t treat me well, which they don’t. Still, it hurts to accept the reality.
“It’s another reason I want a baby. I’ll treat him differently. Very differently. He’ll be my family.”
“A baby boy. You know, I thought all women dreamed of little girls.”
“Maybe someday,” I say, but I don’t believe I’ll adopt more than one child.
“Harrington brothers seem to only have girls. I have two, my girl has two. Charlie has one. But my mother had four boys, and Mati had twin sons. It’s like an unknown curse. There isn’t anyone to carry on our name.” He says it with such pride and concern, I’m a little sad. I suppose a son of a son is important to a family legacy.
“What can you do about it? I guess that leaves James.” I laugh at my joke, but Giant falls very quiet. “What did I say?”
“Nothing, sweetheart.” The drop to his tone tells me not to ask, so I move on.
“So, two weeks? That’s a lot of nights with my vibrator.”
Giant chokes. “Your what?”
“Bunny ears,” I tease.
“I…I want to see.” His voice drops again, and I squirm a little with excitement. This man has certainly been an adventure. One I’d take again and again.
29
Baby blues
[Giant]
Thanksgiving isn’t for three more days, but people act like today starts their holiday. I’m sullen and somber for some reason, but when Letty’s name pops up on my phone, I feel a little lighter.
“I’m getting a baby.”
It takes me a second to register what she’s said before I’ve even said hello.
“A baby?” I choke before I realize what she means. “I mean, a baby. Tell me everything.” It’s so wrong that I’m a little deflated with the announcement. I’m happy for her. I am. This is what she wanted, but I don’t see myself going the baby route again. I’ve already been there, and while I’d like to say I’ve done that, I didn’t. I wasn’t home when Ellie was born. When Sarah was due, I was scheduled to deploy. She came early just so I wouldn’t miss the experience, but I still wasn’t around for diapers and late nights and breastfeeding. Not that Letty can do that last one.
“You don’t sound happy,” she says, her excitement waning a bit.
“No, no, I am. Bad day. Tell me all about him.”
“He’s beautiful. They sent me a picture. He’s three months old, and the mother abandoned him. Brought him to the hospital and left him in the emergency room. After running a battery of tests on him, he needed some immediate medical attention. She was a young woman who didn’t take care of herself and couldn’t take care of him.”
“What?” Who abandons their child?
“Yep. My adoption liaison called me right away. She said I’m the perfect candidate.”
“Medical issues? That don’t sound too good, Cricket.” There could be potential for all kinds of heartbreak if the child has a disease or an addiction. Who knows where this mother came from or what she did? And what happens if she returns? But Letty’s already told me she has faith in the system.
“Whatever he needs, as long as he’s mine. And the good news is, I only need to wait out the abandonment for six months instead of a year for the adoption to stick.” It all sounds worrisome to me, but Letty’s enthusiasm is contagious. “I’m so excited.” She squeals into the phone, and I wish I was there to celebrate with her. I want to be excited for her, but my heart selfishly sinks a little more because I know what’s coming after my next question.
“When do you pick him up?”
“Tomorrow.” Her voice cracks again with her eagerness.
<
br /> “What about Thanksgiving?”
“I’m so sorry, Giant. I can’t travel under the adoption rules. I can’t go anywhere for six months.” Reality slowly sets in, and her voice falters as she repeats, “Six months.” The words echo through the phone like an empty cave.
I swallow back the fear in my throat. “We can do this,” I encourage.
“Will you still want me in six months?”
We haven’t really talked about this possibility—the what-if—of her getting a baby. I’m not opposed to long-distance dating. Nothing against her being a single mother. But a new baby and the distance? The future with a baby? Even I’m starting to doubt the situation.
“Six months is nothing, Cricket.” I’ve done longer stints without Clara, but when I think of how that really worked out for us, I’m not certain I’d promote a long-distance relationship. Sure, it was okay for us, but if I had to do it all again, I’d want a little more continuity. Daily physical contact being number one on my list. With Letty, I thought I might have a second chance, but again, I’m suddenly skeptical. I don’t tell her my thoughts, including the ones where I was hoping to convince her to move here. She could adopt here. She could work here. Blue Ridge might not be the real estate metropolis she has in Chicago, but a change of scenery might be what she needs.
“Please be happy for me.”
“I am, sweetheart. I really am. This is exciting. You’re going to be a great mother.”
“I am,” she says with her feisty determination to get the job done, but tackling a baby isn’t quite like obtaining real estate. “I hate to dash, but I’ve got to go. I have so much to do. Clear the office in my condo. Buy a crib. Purchase clothes. Get some diapers.” She laughs. “I never thought I’d hear those words cross my lips. I’m excited to change a diaper.” She’s giddy as she rambles, and I can picture the grin on her face. I want to kiss those smiling lips, but I can’t. Not yet.