The Mariners, playing out of town, had a Saturday afternoon game on TV the next day, and that gave Craig and Zach excuse enough to lounge in the den, resting up from Friday night's labors. Since Kara was working at Grover's again, they let Paws relax with them; she didn't often let Paws come into the house. Zach paid close attention to the game and played with the dog during commercials. It was curious that the youngster didn't care for a lot of physical contact, yet enjoyed wrestling with the dog; Kara had pointed that out to Craig a few days ago, and she was right.
The Mariners won, so the guys' mood was light when the game ended, and they decided to surprise Kara by bringing her dinner to help her through another extra-long day of work. She surprised them, though, by calling just as they started on the food and letting them know she would be home shortly; Milton had returned from his vacation in time to spell her for the evening. So they prepared a meal for home, instead, and set it on the table just as she stepped through the door. She was tired, as expected, but glad to be home. With the nursery being closed tomorrow, as usual for Sundays, Kara was finally able to rest and unwind.
Dinner together was pleasant, and Craig was in the mood to play some catch with his son that evening, so he grabbed his glove and a ball and found the youngster lying on his bed, reading a book he had checked out from the library. "Heads up!" he said, tossing him a ball.
Zach dropped the book and caught the ball with two hands—good instincts there—then tossed it back.
"Let's go play some catch," Craig invited.
"I don't want to, Dad," he responded politely. "Thanks, though." He went back to reading his book.
Craig eyed him suspiciously. "Is the book that good? Or has some alien being taken over the body of my son? The real Zechariah has never not wanted to play catch."
"I just don't feel like it tonight," he replied. "I'm pretty tired."
"You've been resting all day," Craig countered, but to no avail. Zach ignored him.
Craig began to say more, but decided against it. He left him alone and wandered to the garage. One of his small shovels had suffered a split handle; he located the shovel and brought it inside to the den, where Kara was working at the computer. He settled himself into the armchair next to the computer desk.
She glanced up at him curiously. "Not playing catch?"
"He doesn't want to," Craig told her. "Said he doesn't feel like it."
Kara narrowed her eyes. "That's not like him. Is he okay?"
Craig shrugged. "Can you hand me the duct tape in the drawer?"
Kara located the roll of tape and turned it over in her palm before tossing it to him. "Craig," she said, eyes following the tape, "we're going to have to cut back on outings with Zach."
"Oh?" he asked. He wrapped some tape around the broken place on the handle. "You know, we still haven't taken him to ride the ferry. And I was thinking about maybe taking him up to the Olympic Mountains, or maybe to that wildlife park down by Eatonville." The tape tore when he released it, and he frowned at it; even double-layered, it wasn't strong enough to hold the split handle together.
Kara picked up the roll. "If you can believe it, we've had this tape since we got married. I think it's been left out in the sun and rain one time too many. It's pretty brittle." She went to the kitchen and brought back a new roll of duct tape. "Here—I finally gave up and bought this last month." She returned to her seat at the computer. "The ferry doesn't cost much, so that might be all right, but look at this—we've put well over three thousand dollars on the credit card." She pointed him to the computer screen, where she had pulled up their latest statement.
He finished wrapping the shovel handle with the new tape—it did the job—and whistled when he saw the bottom line. "How—?"
"That's what I've been checking," she explained. "The DNA tests, they're the biggie, of course; Zach's new clothes; toys; the trip to Portland, the zoo, the movie, eating out with him several times; the beach trip was another big expense, since we couldn't get a refund…" She swiveled to face him directly. "Craig, between this and that, we've spent an extra five thousand dollars since Zach showed up! I know kids are expensive, but we've got to rein this in." She slid the old duct tape back into its drawer.
Craig looked away from the computer, a bit stunned. "Well, he's more important than the money. He's our son, right? We've missed out on ten years with him. I don't want to miss anymore opportunities—"
"I'm not talking about opportunities, Craig, I'm talking about expensive opportunities. We have to pay this off first. And with both of us taking so many days away from work these last few weeks, our income—"
"It doesn't matter," Craig maintained. "We can catch up later. Zach needs to get out and do things. Think about it: all these years he's been locked away in some house—well, several houses, I guess—and finally he has someone who will take him out and let him live a bit. What are we going to do, lock him up again because our credit card isn't paid off? I can't do that, Kara."
Kara looked at him strangely. "Aren't you usually the one concerned about our finances, the one who reminds me that we need to watch our spending? Didn't you go fourteen years without buying new duct tape?"
"I'm just saying—" What was he saying? It was going to be hard indeed to get that debt paid off anytime soon.
"Shouldn't we be more careful with our money now that Zach's here," Kara pressed, "rather than less?"
Craig ran a hand through his hair. Was he doing that more now than he used to? "I just don't want him to miss out, Kara. He would love the Olympic Mountains, just like he loved Mount Rainier. I'd take him up there for a whole week if we could pull it off."
"We can do that, Craig, but not right now! Right now, we need to work and pay off this debt. Remember how long it took us to pay off all the expenses when we had Tiffany? That was really hard for us, and I for one don't want to go through that again! Look, we can find activities that don't cost anything, like taking him to the park. Later, we can—"
"No! I'm not interested in later! We're already ten years later!" He shocked himself, speaking so boldly when Kara was being so rational. But he dared not admit that she was right about this.
"Hey," she said, suddenly quiet, standing to look him in the eye; he hadn't realized he had stood up. "What's scaring you?"
"What? I'm not—"
"I'm your wife. I know when you're scared. You're afraid you might not get to do these things with Zach. Why?"
Flexing his grip on the shovel handle, he stared out the picture window at the evening sunlight striking the tops of the trees at the edge of the yard. The sun would be setting soon.
I don't want the sun to set, he realized.
Kara studied him, waiting for him to answer.
"Time," he answered finally. "I'm afraid we'll run out of time."
Kara bit her lip. "You're afraid…that someone is going to come and take him away from us. Like Tiffy. Is that it? And we'll miss our chance to spend this time with him?"
He found himself nodding. "The things we always wanted to do with our child," he replied, facing her again, "the things we used to dream about." She had beautiful eyes. What a distracting thing to notice at a moment like this.
Kara took a deep breath and slowly gathered him in her arms. "Zach's not Tiffy, Craig. He belongs to us, right down to his DNA." She squeezed him close. "No one's coming for him. They would have come by now. Anyway, they sent him to us. So…don't rush, okay? Do this the right way. We can just be a family. We have time."
With his free hand, Craig returned her embrace; it was comforting, even if her words struck him as more hopeful than certain. He hoped she was right. That was what he wanted more than anything with Zach—time.
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 65