by Lisa Wingate
“Huh?” I muttered, trying to appear too focused on work to be thinking about hunky game wardens. “Oh … ummm … not recently.” I felt my cheeks sizzle. Spitting out a lie was incredibly wrong after two days loaded with undeserved blessings. Even so, I couldn’t imagine letting Bonnie – or anyone else – in on my personal life, especially the part that included Mart. Which was exactly the problem. As much as I enjoyed spending time with Mart, as much as that time felt natural and right when we were together, I couldn’t picture where this was going, or where it could. When I thought about other people finding out, about their reactions, about what my parents would say, what Meg would say, what old acquaintances from Houston would think, how Dustin might react …
My mind whirled and my stomach clenched at the idea. It had been over a year since my life with Karl fell apart, but still … What if people thought I was just out looking for a replacement, that I was jumping into a relationship because I couldn’t make it on my own?
What if I was?
I swept away the mind storm before it could rain on my perfectly sunny day. If you have one eye on yesterday, and one eye on tomorrow, you’ll be cockeyed today. Good advice from Mart and the Waterbird. For the time being, everything was fine. I just needed to concentrate on the present.
“Uh-huh …” Bonnie murmured doubtfully, and then she invited me to singles game night at her church again.
“I don’t think singles night is for me, but thanks.” I remained focused on the computer screen.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Bonnie take a step toward the door, giving up.
She turned to leave, then paused. “You know, there’s lots of divorced people there. We’ve all got issues. God loves people with issues, too.”
“I know.” But the truth was that I didn’t. Spreading your issues out on the table and having people love you anyway wasn’t within my normal frame of reference. I suppose, in spite of all the times I’d heard God loves you just the way you are during Sunday school classes and women’s retreats, or helped kids to write that phrase on construction-paper butterflies and keepsake bookmarks, I’d never really internalized it. I’d twisted the meaning to fit my perceptions. God loves you when you’re the way you’re supposed to be, and so will other people. If you want to be loved, don’t be impulsive, don’t be careless, don’t be flawed.
Yet, here was Bonnie, offering friendship when I’d rebuffed all her invitations, when I often made her job harder by bungling my own, when I was anything but perfect. I wasn’t really even competent at my job yet. I hadn’t done much to impress anybody, yet Taz was willing to support me, and Bonnie was inviting me to social engagements, showing me kindness I really hadn’t earned.
“Maybe in a few weeks, when we’re settled in,” I said, and Bonnie backed a step into the hall, tossing a length of sleek blond hair over her shoulder, her eyes seeming too large and luminous in her thin face.
“Well, the invitation’s always open.”
I glanced up at her, and she smiled a private little smile.
“But in the meantime, you’re crazy if you don’t go after the hunky game warden.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I didn’t trust myself to answer.
“Just trying to be of assistance.” Bonnie wandered off down the hall, and I went back to work with her suggestion buzzing around in my brain, making lazy circles like a dragonfly on a summer day.
You’re crazy if you don’t go after the hunky game warden… .
Bonnie’s voice was still in my head two hours later, as I wrapped up my day and drove back to Moses Lake.
Topping the hill above the Waterbird, I spotted Mart’s truck in the parking lot, and the gravitational pull was more than I could resist. I drifted in … to buy a soda and some sandwiches for supper … or … something.
When I stepped through the door, Mart was near the cash register, studying the doughnut case with serious interest. No one was behind the counter, and the usual crowd of coffee-drinking men had gathered on the back porch at the picnic tables. Sheila was busy cleaning the fryer in the kitchen area, so I let the door close silently, then tiptoed across the room to surprise Mart at the doughnut case.
For a half second, I was tempted to put a hand over his eyes and say, Guess who? Like an adolescent trying to flirt. Instead, I slipped in behind him and said, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the doughnuts.” A giddy sensation fluttered through me as he started to turn around, and in an instant of wild abandon, I imagined stealing a kiss while Sheila’s back was turned. How would he react, if I did?
I didn’t have the guts, of course, and aside from that, I knew it would be the wrong thing to do. It would only further confuse an already muddled group of issues. Even so, the idea was like chocolate – tempting, hard to resist, a delight to all the senses.
Mart turned with a quick jerk, his face a mask of surprise that quickly changed to a guarded expression. It set me back on my heels.The welcome I’d expected wasn’t there. My giddy flutter died, descending flightless. A random rush of thoughts compiled possible reasons for that look. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen with me here. Maybe he was busy with work and didn’t have time to talk.
Maybe he had something else on his mind. Maybe he didn’t like me after all.
Maybe he didn’t think about those nights on the dock at least two dozen times a day… .
Maybe I was just something he did when he was bored in the evening. A way to pass time… .
Maybe he was he involved with someone else. Or more than one someone… .
Maybe he was here with someone else right now… .
The idea that Robin Hood might have other Maid Marians stashed here and there around the lake stung in a way I hadn’t expected. I surveyed the room again, mentally preparing myself to see a woman there, to find him on a date with someone. The thought was humiliatingly awkward.
A head popped up from behind the candy counter, and I stood staring with my mouth open. Cassandra? She glanced at Mart, and I knew they were here together. Her dark eyes widened at the sight of me, and her lips hung open a fraction, as if she didn’t know what to say.
She ducked behind the counter, and my mind did a Bambion-ice scramble. What was going on?
Cassandra reappeared, and this time someone else was with her. Dustin?
A flash of trepidation crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. “Hey, Mom. I was just gonna call you. I mean, I woulda called earlier, but I knew you were working.”
“What are you doing here?” I groped mentally, trying to piece together an explanation. How had Dustin gotten here? Had Mart come in just before me and caught Cassandra and Dustin in the store together? That would explain the weird look when Mart saw me. Maybe he was afraid World War III was about to erupt.
Dustin glanced sideways at Mart, and Mart rolled a stern look in Dustin’s direction. “I thought you said you called your mom, Dustin.”
My son squirmed, his shoulders wriggling as if his T-shirt were made of steel wool. “I was gonna … as soon as she … got off work.” Clearly, he was making the sentence up at he went along, searching for something that would smooth the waters. He lifted both eyebrows in a beseeching look that said, Please don’t make me look like a stupid little kid right now. “I knew you’d be in counseling sessions and stuff, and then we got busy and … well, I forgot. That’s all.”
“Dustin …” After fourteen years as a mother, you know that I forgot really means I was afraid you’d say no, and I wanted to do what I wanted to do. It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
“My fault, totally,” Mart stepped in. “I should’ve made sure he called before we headed out.” All of a sudden, I felt like they were ganging up on me – conspiring the way Megan and I used to when we were trying to get around my parents’ razor-wire fence of rules.
Conspiring the way Megan and I used to … Was I jumping to conclusions, thinking the worst when I should have been keeping an open mind? Dustin
was with Mart, after all. Didn’t I spend my days teaching parents how not to escalate conflicts with their kids – how to be fair, nonjudgmental, and open-minded until they’d gotten all the facts and considered them rationally?
I took a deep breath, pulling the lid off the boiling pot and letting the steam dissipate. “Well, so what’s going on? What did I miss?”
Dustin and Cassandra were momentarily shocked, and then Dustin stepped from behind the candy shelf, looking newly confident that shrapnel wasn’t headed his way.“The projector and sound system in the community center blew a cog before water safety class, so the dude from the church, Reverend Hay, brought over his projector and sound system so we could have class. But then his equipment wouldn’t work either, so the COE dude just, like, talked to us, and we were out early. I told them I knew about sound systems because Dad and I used to run ours at church, and I could probably fix it, so we took it over to our house. Then Mr. McClendon had to go check some boats for these zebra muscle clam-looking things that are an invasive species. They’re bad for the lake. He asked if I wanted to go along and help, so I did. Then we came by here to grab a coke and a candy bar, and Cassandra was next door helping her mom clean cabins, so she came over. Mr. McClendon’s about to go to the dock and do some measuring to build ramps and a guardrail so Pop Dorsey can get down there in his wheelchair, and I told him if he needed help, I didn’t have anything big going on right now.”
The sentence finished on a hopeful high note that pleaded with me to leave him at the Waterbird, where he could do man projects in view of the cute girl. “Beats the heck out of sitting at home,” he finished, as if he’d just remembered that acting too enthusiastic might affect his coolness rating.
“It’s easier to do that job with a couple extra hands,” Mart added and cast a sideways glance at me, his eyes a warm camo green. It looked like Dustin wasn’t the only one enjoying the day.
I vacillated between making some excuse that Dustin was needed at home, and letting him go. Having Mart give my son rides to water safety class was one thing, but seeing them acting like friends was another.The idea of letting Dustin develop a connection with a man I’d met just a couple weeks ago felt like a risk, a tiny crack in the security fence. When it came right down to it, I knew very little about Mart. I had no real idea what his intentions were. I knew very little about his past, or how he’d ended up in Moses Lake, or his plans for the future. Most of our conversations had been about his job, Birdie, or about me. Even if I was willing to dangle myself over what might turn out to be an emotional cliff, I couldn’t afford to take chances with Dustin. Beyond that, there was a deeper question – what if Mart was only interested in Dustin because Mart was interested in me? If … when I finally had to come down to earth and admit to Mart that I wasn’t ready for a relationship and didn’t know when I’d ever be, would he toss Dustin aside like yesterday’s news? Dustin couldn’t take one more rejection in his life.
On the flip side of the coin, there was my son, bright-eyed, smiling, enthusiastic for the first time in months. Even Taz’s four-by-four hadn’t lit him up like this. He had the gleam of looking forward to something, of enjoying the moment and not worrying about what lay ahead or behind, or the fact that August was less than a week away.
Above the doorway to the back porch, a plaque caught my eye. The bit of backwoods wisdom Mart had mentioned last night but couldn’t call to mind at the time.
Stop looking ahead. Stop looking back. Stop. Look around.
I took in my son’s buoyant smile. How long since I’d seen him this happy? How long since he’d had a moment like this? I couldn’t even say.
“Sure,” I answered. “Sure. That sounds like fun. I’ll see you at home when you’re finished, all right?” My heart caught in my chest, as if I were blindly feeling my way through a dark house, knowing that something dangerous could be hiding around any corner. By the time I saw it coming, it would be too late.
“Thanks, Mom.” Dustin grinned ear to ear, then quickly toned down the boyish enthusiasm. “Cool. I’ll see ya later, then.” Clearly, that was my cue to get out of the way and let the evening’s adventure continue.
For an instant, I was jealous. I wanted to be in on the fun, rather than heading home to cook supper and pay this month’s bills.
“Do you need some money for a snack?” I asked Dustin, reaching into my purse.
“I got it.” Mart opened the doughnut case and made a selection, then waved Dustin to the counter. “I owe Dustin for the help this afternoon.”
Nodding, Dustin whispered something to Cassandra, then headed to the cash register with his candy bar in hand. I left Mart and Dustin standing side by side at the counter, looking out the window and talking about guardrails.
When Dustin came home later, he was as happy as a boy with summer reading and half an English workbook to complete could be. While telling me about his day, he ate the sandwich I’d left for him. An old Robert Redford movie, Jeremiah Johnson, came on TV, and we sat watching it together.
After finishing his supper, Dustin stood behind the sofa, as if he couldn’t quite decide whether to stay with me or go to his room.
“Stay and watch awhile,” I said. “You can work on your English homework in the morning.”
“ ’Kay.” He shrugged and sat down. “Ummm, by the way … Is it okay if I go help next week down at the Tin Building Theater? They’re working on some sound and lighting stuff. The Rev asked if maybe I could work with them on it. I told him about the huge sound booth that Dad … at our old church.”
“The Rev?”
Dustin nodded hopefully. “Reverend Hay. Cassandra calls him the Rev. She goes there to church … at Lakeshore Community, I mean.”
“That sounds fine,” I said.
His eyes lit, just as they had when I’d given the green light earlier that afternoon. “Thanks, Mom.”
He watched a few more minutes of the movie, then brought up another subject without looking away from the screen. “We’re starting the ramps and the guardrail on the dock tomorrow afternoon, so Pop Dorsey can get down to the lake in his wheelchair. I can go, right?” His level of interest was surprising. A motherly sixth sense told me that a good deal of that interest was related to Cassandra. Part of me wanted to say no, to keep Dustin safely at home in his little cocoon. On the other hand, he needed to know that I trusted him, that I believed in him. He needed to be allowed to begin navigating the path through teenagerhood, with all the rights, privileges, and stumbling blocks that involved.
“All right, but make sure you’re paying attention to the power tools and not just looking at girls, okay.”
Dustin blushed and swallowed hard, nodded, and focused on the movie. Watching him, I vacillated between being grateful for the newfound enthusiasm and worrying about it. As nice as Mart seemed to be, as much as Mart had assured me that Cassandra was a sweet girl, all of this felt like a risk, a potential train wreck in the making. I’d just let Dustin step onto the train.
Even as those cautionary notes played in my head, I found myself watching the lake with one eye and the movie with the other. Somewhere between Robert Redford being a greenhorn and learning to survive in the mountains, Dustin fell sound asleep on the sofa. After that, I watched the lake with both eyes, looking for lights in the cove.
Outside the window, Larkspur Cove remained dark, and as the clock ticked past eleven, I felt a heavy sense of disappointment. Mart wasn’t coming tonight.
Just as I was finally facing that fact and getting ready to wake Dustin so he could move to his bed, the phone rang. I grabbed it and headed for the porch, answering with anticipation pinwheeling in my windpipe, making my voice higher than usual and syrupy sweet. “Hey.” I searched the lake, looking for Mart’s boat. “What’s up?”
He yawned before answering. “Aw, stuck out here in my truck. Had a complaint called in about some yay-hoos night-shooting coyotes off a county road. There’s a state park campground a couple hundred yards through the trees
. Idiots.” He yawned again, and I pictured thick, dark lashes brushing his cheeks.
“You sound tired.” The words seemed intimate, like pillow talk.
He laughed softly, and I felt it deep in my chest. “Some long nights catching up with me.”
I blushed, even though no one was there to see it. I was responsible for at least the last few of those long nights. Once Mart and I started talking, it seemed as if we could go on forever – not about anything vital, just silly things. Stories from the lake, the quirky people he ran into on the job, my work, his work.
Last night we’d talked about the water safety class, and how Dustin, Cassandra, and my ten-year-old client, Daniel, were doing. Once, I’d even found myself laughing about Meg and me, and how we’d spent our teenage years tangled in a tooth-and-nail battle of sibling rivalry.
I can’t imagine what you’d have to be jealous about, Mart had said. But then again, I haven’t met your sister. He’d given me a flirty look that was evident even in the dim light. I’d swatted him and told him Meg was married. He’d grinned and said, Just my luck, and then he’d kissed me.
Remembering that kiss now brought a surprisingly potent sense of disappointment. He wouldn’t be motoring up the cove tonight. This cell call was it. Some logical part of me said that was probably for the best. Things were happening way too fast. Still, I cradled the phone on my shoulder, hugging my knees. “You should turn in earlier.”
“Had better things to do.”
My skin went hot and prickly all over. It was probably a good thing he wasn’t here in person tonight. “So, I want to move forward on Birdie’s referral as soon as possible.” Sliding into work talk was what my boss would have referred to as a defense mechanism – a way to maintain distance when things got too close. Probably a smart move, all issues considered.
Mart didn’t seem conscious of the switch.“Yeah, I got your text message. When’re you heading up there?”