by Lisa Wingate
Dustin snapped upright, and the girl scrambled to her feet. Lashes flying wide, she darted a gaze around the room like she was looking for an escape hatch. She’d better be, I thought. Just the idea of her and Dustin alone in the boathouse, maybe even alone in the house, made me queasy. How often had they done this? What might have been going on during the week while I was at work?
Dustin flipped his hands into the air, then let them slap to his thighs. “Mom, we were just hanging out.” He turned a red-cheeked look my way. The resentment, anger, and hurt there shocked me.
“You are grounded, Dustin. You didn’t have permission to have a – ” girl in extremely short shorts and too much makeup – “guest over here.” The degree to which I sounded like my mother was staggering. The word guest even had the sharp edge of condescendence to it, a subliminal message to Cassandra, of sorts. She didn’t belong here. Her mother cleans cabins for a living, ran through my mind, and I was ashamed of the thought. It sounded like something my parents would say.
Nostrils flaring, Dustin sucked in a breath and stood up. “Mom!” he gasped, mortified at my rudeness. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was mortified myself. It was wrong to treat a child that way, and despite the attempt to look grownup, Cassandra was a child.
She sidestepped toward the door, her neck retracting into her shoulders, as if she were afraid I might throw something at her. Her dark eyes rolled upward, soulful, puppy-like, with a wide, white rim underneath. “I … better go,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.
“Mom!” Dustin repeated insistently, blocking Cassandra’s exit. “We were just sitting here talking. Besides, you said I was grounded for two weeks. Tomorrow is Monday. That’s two weeks.” His eyes met mine, and in a strange instant of transference, I levitated across the boathouse and was standing in his shoes, young, confused, embarrassed by my mother’s behavior. One minute I was having the time of my life, and the next I was being squashed under my mother’s thumb. Nothing I ever did was right. She always assumed the worst, never trusted my judgment. I couldn’t wait to grow up and get away from her house, out from under her control. But when I did get out on my own, I lacked confidence in my ability.
By not trusting Dustin, by not listening to him, would I teach him that he wasn’t trustworthy, that his opinions weren’t worth considering? Would I cause him to yearn for love and acceptance so badly that he would jump into the wrong relationships just to get it?
“I called Dad,” Dustin said, and I felt the floor dropping out from under me, felt the cold splash of water as my head went under. “Dad said it was all right, as long as we stayed outside. He’s gonna call me back about August in a couple days, too. He’s been busy.”
“You called … wh … Excu … excuse me?” The words choked the air from my throat. Karl had actually bothered to answer the phone? And how in the world would he know what was all right? He had incredible nerve, handing out his approval. Why would Dustin think Karl’s permission counted for anything? The answer was obvious, of course. Dustin knew his dad would tell him what he wanted to hear.
“It’s not your father’s decision,” I bit out. “You should have called me.”
Dustin stretched taller, suddenly seeming more man than adolescent. “I couldn’t get you on your phone, so I called Dad, and I got ahold of him this time. Cassie’s finished being grounded. None of the other kids even got grounded.”
Cassandra rolled a sympathetic look toward Dustin, uncertain whether she should jump into the argument or run for cover. Shifting from one foot to the other, she twisted her arms, pretzel-like.
I stood between her and the only available exit, feeling almost as insecure as she looked. Should I give in? Should I draw a hard line, revoke Dustin’s parole, just to prove the point that his father didn’t have a right to an opinion? My thoughts raced, my mind and heart struggling to weigh the consequences of every possible reaction. I didn’t want to turn into my mother. I didn’t want Dustin and me to have that kind of relationship. But there were so many dangers in this new life, so many things that could go wrong, and Dustin had so little experience. Until now, he’d been sheltered, protected, monitored. He’d never been in a situation where other kids might lead him astray.
He’d never been around girls who dressed like Cassandra… .
“Hello-o-o down there in the boathouse.” A voice traveled through the mist, and my heart skipped, then fluttered. I knew who was coming down the hill before I turned and saw Mart approaching on the footpath, wearing a long oilskin slicker, like he was ready to round up some doggies in the outback. While he walked, he was whistling “Deep in the Heart of Texas,” a cheery tune that seemed out of place amid the ongoing drama in the boathouse. He lifted a hand in greeting as he came closer.
Dustin and Cassandra leaned out over the water to see who was approaching. When they figured out who it was, Cassandra ducked back into the shadows, and Dustin groaned, “Oh, great. What does he want?”
“Dustin,” I snapped. “Drop the attitude. You’re in enough trouble already. Mr. McClendon is trying to do you a favor with the water safety class. You’re lucky you didn’t end up in juvenile court.”
In a surprising show of bravado, undoubtedly for Cassandra’s benefit, Dustin answered, “Whatever.”
Cassandra seemed shocked, reacting with a soft gasp and a quick headshake that indicated even she thought he’d gone too far.
Mart stepped off the path onto the mottled, overgrown cement surface that had once been a boat ramp, and I felt the memory of the kiss speeding toward Dustin’s issues like atoms in a supercollider. If Dustin suspected what was happening between Mart and me … I couldn’t even begin to predict what the fallout would be.
Worry scampered through my mind, running breathlessly but going nowhere, a hamster on a wheel. What should I do now? Try to act cool and businesslike? Hope that Mart would get the hint? What if he didn’t? I could send Dustin to the house, remove him from the situation completely. Once he was gone, Cassandra would probably gather up her bicycle and leave.
Mart and I would be alone then. A heady swirl of remembered sensations followed that thought, and I had the brief realization that Bonnie was right. He did look rugged.
A rush of self-recriminations pushed the observation aside, covered it over with wide strokes of emotion painted in dull gray – guilt, embarrassment, self-doubt. I was a thirty-eight-year-old woman with a child to raise. I needed to stop acting like I was Cassandra’s age.
Mart, completely unaware of my mental dialog, smiled pleasantly, then turned his attention to the kids. He greeted Dustin first, receiving a muttered hello that notched up the temperature in my cheeks. Mart didn’t seem to notice. He smiled at Cassandra who, at the moment, appeared to be considering diving into the water and swimming to freedom. “You finished being grounded, Cassandra?”
She blushed and nodded, digging a toe into the dock. “Yes, sir.”
Mart’s posture softened further. “And we’ll be seeing you at the water safety course tomorrow?”
Tucking her chin, she rolled a remorseful look at him, her eyes large and dark and wounded, the kind of sad eyes a teenage girl uses to get what she wants. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry we got in trouble that day on the lake.”
The hangdog face worked on Mart. He stepped under the roof and gave her an encouraging look.“Come on, now. The water safety course isn’t that bad. You might even learn something.”
“Yes, sir.” Shifting her weight, she uncrossed her arms and pushed her hands into her pockets, one eye squeezing shut, as if she had something on her mind and couldn’t decide whether to bring it up. “Ummm … Do you know when we’ll be done? When the class will get out each day, I mean?”
In the corner, Dustin turned his attention to Mart. The conversation had suddenly become of interest to him, too.
Mart paused to scratch his chin, letting the suspense build. “Five, six o’clock, maybe.”
Cassandra’s mouth dropped open, and Dustin sucke
d in a breath. Considering that the class started at two in the afternoon, five or six o’clock was a little hard to imagine. I’d thought it was supposed to be about an hour each day.
The slightest hint of mirth twinkled in Mart’s eyes. “Why, you got a hot date?”
Both kids turned three shades of red, and Cassandra rolled her toes inward, looking like a shy little girl at a spelling bee. “No, it’s just that I’ve gotta … my … ummm … I’m supposed to … ummm … help my mom clean the rooms at the resort and …” She caught Mart’s expression and stopped midsentence, studying his face, a look of awareness dawning. “You’re, like, pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
Mart chuckled.“You didn’t read the water safety course brochure I sent home, did you?”
“No, sir. Guess I should’ve, huh?”
“Guess so.”
“I think my mom read it.” Cassandra smiled hopefully, and in spite of the fact that I’d been determined not to, I found myself liking her. She seemed like a pretty nice kid, actually. Apparently, her mother expected her to work, which was more than could be said for most young people from this side of the lake.
Mart drummed his fingertips on his holster. “Your mom taking the class?”
“No, sir,” Cassandra admitted, but she and Mart were smiling at each other when she said it. The implication was clear. He’d made his point without having to strong-arm anyone. It occurred to me to wonder why he didn’t have a family of his own. He was good with kids – patient, firm, but with a sense of humor.
“The class’ll go better if you’ll read the brochure ahead of time, like you’re supposed to. You’ll know what to bring,” he suggested. “You too, there, Dustin.”
“I read it already.” Dustin’s declaration surprised me.
“Learn anything?” Mart addressed Dustin with the same good-natured yet authoritative tone he’d used on Cassandra. No doubt, his magic would fall flat this time.
“A little,” Dustin admitted, and I watched with complete surprise as the snotty teenaged mask fractured slightly. “My mom told me to.”
Mart’s lips slowly parted into a smile. “You’ve got a good mom.”
Right then, I could have thrown myself into Mart’s arms and kissed him. Dustin didn’t agree or disagree with Mart’s assertion, of course, and we drifted into an uncomfortable conversational lull, until finally Mart broke the stalemate. “So whose rig is that in the driveway? You trade the car in for a tricked-out four-by-four?”
Dustin perked up. “Four-by-four?” He craned toward the doorway.
Suddenly everyone was watching me with interest. “Borrowed it from my boss,” I replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “With all this rain, the roads are such a mess. I can’t get to my appointments out in Chinquapin Peaks.”
Mart quirked a brow. “You know how to drive that thing?”
“I took a lesson,” I answered confidently. Didn’t I look like a four-by-four driving kind of girl? Mart’s eyes caught mine, and I knew he’d picked up on an undercurrent of challenge in those words – as in, Want me to prove it?
He touched his tongue to his lips, seeming to think about it. Fortunately, both Dustin and Cassandra were busy trying to catch a glimpse of my new ride.
“There’s a four-by-four up there?” Dustin’s voice cracked, and he swallowed and cleared his throat, then finished the sentence in his new man-voice. “Seriously?”
“There is,” I confirmed, stepping out of the way. “Go check it out, if you want.”
“Awesome!” Dustin’s voice squeaked again, and Mart responded with a sympathy wince. Dustin bolted toward the yard, his footsteps echoing through the boathouse and causing the deck to rock on the water. A half-dozen steps outside the door, he screeched to a halt, remembering that he had company. “C’mon, Cassie.”
Cassandra walked to the edge of the boathouse, stepped into the drizzle, then stopped. “Ummm … I better head back.” Flicking a glance toward Mart and me, she hovered on the boat ramp, watching Dustin as if she were waiting for something.“I’ll … ummm … see ya later, ’kay.” She darted another glance my way, then added, “I mean, at the class Monday.” I found myself watching her body language intently, wondering if she’d be sneaking back the minute I headed off to work. Maybe I should talk to Sydney and Ansley, try to discern whether they’d seen any visitors coming by the house.
“I’ll text you,” Dustin answered, torn between truck fancy and a cute girl. “You sure you don’t want to hang around and see the truck?”
Cassandra’s lips pouted, the bottom one jutting out a little. “I better not. I just got ungrounded, you know?”
“Okay, cool,” Dustin said, and after another awkward moment, Cassandra waved good-bye with her thumbs still hooked in her pockets, then hurried to her bicycle and disappeared on a footpath that led to a public boat ramp down shore. Back in the day, a prominent No Trespassing sign had warned patrons of the public access area that the footpath was on Larkspur Estates property and was only for private use. Even then, kids from the public access area had often ignored the sign and ventured down the path to see how the other half lived. My sister and I liked to hang out at the boathouse and watch for cute boys strolling by. Who would have thought that a girl would now be biking that same path to visit my son?
Dustin jogged up the hill without looking back, leaving Mart and me alone at the boathouse. The situation suddenly felt intimate – a daylight re-creation of the night of the kiss.
“Guess we never did take that boat ride.” Mart’s mind seemed to be moving along the same channels as mine. He squinted toward the choppy water, his eyes a contemplative shade of green, almost the color of the water in this misty light.
The mention of the boat ride brushed a tingle of anticipation over my skin. I couldn’t let him know that, of course. That kiss, that night, was so far away from anything I’d planned, it was still hard to believe I’d let it happen. “Well, there’s no accounting for the weather.”
He frowned at me, seeming disappointed that I hadn’t picked up on the unspoken invitation in his mention of a ride on the lake. “True enough. It’s supposed to break tonight. I’m planning to try to get your CPS investigator up to Len’s place via the water in the morning. It’ll be another day or two before that last low-water crossing by his house is passable by truck. You’re welcome to ride along tomorrow, if you want. I’m meeting the investigator and Reverend Hay over at the Waterbird, first thing.”
Yes was on my lips before I’d even sifted through tomorrow’s schedule in my mind. I had an early staff meeting, and then the day was packed with appointments, many of which had already been rescheduled, due to bad weather last week. On top of that, there was the issue of Dustin and Cassandra. Maybe I needed to make a surprise visit home for lunch… .
“I can’t,” I admitted. “The schedule is jammed tomorrow. Will you let me know what happens – not just with Birdie, but also with my other little client, Daniel? His grandmother is bringing him to the water safety course. I’m hoping it will be good for him. And could you maybe … keep an eye on Dustin while he’s there … and Cassandra?” I winced, knowing I was asking too much, but I needed help, and there wasn’t anyone else to rely on. “I’m sorry, I just … I’m worried, and …”
Mart stepped closer, and I felt my gaze being drawn upward, into his. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “I don’t mind.”
For a moment, everything around me and everything inside me hushed – the sloshing of the waves against the dock, the soft slap-slap of wet leaves falling on the tin roof, the rhythmic croak of a frog somewhere down shore, the whirl of fear and worry in my head. There was nothing but the realization that I’d missed Mart while he was gone, and now he was finally back again.
Nature is always hinting at us.
– Robert Frost
(Left by an angler who didn’t catch
a thing, but it didn’t matter)
Chapter 18
Mart McClendon
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Monday morning the weather finally broke. I was at the Waterbird early, waiting for the CPS investigator to show up. I’d sent Hay on ahead to see if he could catch Len on his way down to the lake and let him know that we’d be coming. I figured the more warning Len had, the more likely the meeting would go well. I wished Andrea could be there. Both Len and Birdie knew her, and she wasn’t rushing to any judgment. My worry about bringing in an investigator was that the investigator might take one look and decide the easiest thing was to move that little girl to some kind of foster-care shelter.
At the Waterbird the docksiders were in rare form after days cooped up inside playing dominoes and drinking coffee, waiting for the storm to break. Pop Dorsey let me in on the fact that while they were hemmed in by the rain, Burt and Nester had sneaked into Sheila’s coffee canister, dumped out all the decaf, and replaced it with the real stuff. Now they were buzzed on unlimited caffeine. They looked happy as horses on spring grass, sorting out their bait and tackle, getting ready to take to the lake.
“You need any help going up there to Len’s place?” Burt asked, tying a little spinnerbait on the end of his line. “You got backup and all that, in case ol’ Len goes off the handle?”
I shook my head. “I don’t figure we’ll need it. I was up there a couple times last week before the rain came in. Len didn’t give me any trouble.”
Nester cocked his head back, lowering a bushy eyebrow. “You probably don’t know it, because you ain’t from here, but when Len’s mama went in the hospital for a stroke and ended up in the nursin’ home, Len come down and stole her right out of the bed and took her back to that cabin. One of the attendants tried to stop him, and Len pointed a twenty-gauge shotgun at her. That man ain’t normal.”
“Odd duck,” Pop Dorsey agreed, wheeling himself from behind the counter, since he didn’t have any real customers in the store right then.
“Len’s bait done swum the bucket a long time ago,” Nester added. “If he really does have a daughter, she must be some kind of mess to leave a little kid up there. You know, maybe she didn’t want to leave the little girl there. Maybe Len stole ’er. Maybe he threatened the mama or did somethin’ to her, or …”