by Lisa Wingate
Karl saw the change. He reacted by hooking one leg over the other and laying a hand on his shin, leaning comfortably back on my sofa. “Well, technically August is my time anyway. Tomorrow is the first of August.”
“Your time?” I coughed in disbelief. Was it possible that he could have the nerve to bring up the visitation arrangements after all these weeks? “Since when have you ever cared whether it was your time, Karl? Since when have you ever shown up? Now you want to just breeze in here because you’re feeling down, because you need someone, and take my son on a cross-country trip?”
“Mom, please!” Dustin’s volume rose to meet mine. “I want – ”
“Dustin!” I snapped. Even though I knew we shouldn’t be doing this in front of him, I couldn’t stop myself. “This is between your father and me.” It wasn’t really. The war was between Karl and me, but we were firing shots right over our son.
“I don’t see what the problem is.” Karl lifted his hands, free to play the victim.
“Yes, you do. Yes, you do, Karl. That’s why you didn’t ask last night, or this morning. You knew I wouldn’t want him going with you.”
“What about what Dustin wants?” Karl shifted forward, his body drawing a more aggressive line. “Who says everything has to be your – ”
“Stop it!” Dustin’s outcry reverberated through the room as he stood up. “I don’t want any more fighting!” He turned to me. His eyes, only a moment before glittering with excitement, were now brimming with tears. “I just want to say good-bye to Grandpa Joe, all right? I just want to go there, and see the ranch again, and say good-bye. Mom … please. I know what I’m doing. It’s okay. I just want to go, all right?” His plea ended in a sob as he swiped a hand across his eyes. I felt myself breaking, as if my heart were being torn from my body, as if someone were asking me to hang it on a string and send it to North Dakota … with Karl, of all people.
I just want to say good-bye to Grandpa Joe. Dustin deserved that chance. If I stole it away from him, he would resent that forever. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t be safe, in the physical sense, anyway. Karl and Dustin had traveled together any number of times in past years on church mission trips, or when Dustin went along to one of Karl’s conferences. They’d enjoyed hotel pools and quirky local tourist attractions together. Dustin read the maps, Karl did the driving, and they ate at every hole-in-the-wall diner they could find. Maybe this trip would remind them of those good times, make Karl realize that Dustin’s love was something too precious to throw away.
But there was also Dustin’s well-being to consider. What if this trip raised his hopes, only to have Karl crash them again when life went back to normal?
What if it didn’t? What if this trip helped to rebuild the bond between them? What if this was the beginning of something new – the genesis of our learning to function in a way that, if not friendly, at least didn’t hurt our son? If that was possible, I owed it to Dustin to take the chance.
“All right.” It hurt to give in, even though everything inside me was telling me it was the right thing to do. “Go pack your things. You have some clean laundry in the utility room, if you need it.”
Dustin’s eyes widened in surprise, then amazement, then anticipation. He spun around, ran in place several steps like a cartoon character on ice, then took off across room. At the start of the hallway, he slid to a stop, smiled at me, and said, “Thanks, Mom!” and then careened down the corridor toward his bedroom, his footsteps shaking the house.
“I’ll go grab his laundry for him.” Karl stood up and sidestepped toward the utility room. No doubt he was afraid to be alone with me. He could probably read on my face all the things that were going through my mind. None of them were fit for polite conversation.
“You’d better take good care of him,” I bit out, because I didn’t trust myself to say anything else.
Karl glanced back over his shoulder. “I will.” His body language added, What? Did you think I was going to dump him at a gas station alongside the interstate somewhere?
I clenched my teeth, wishing again that I’d never let him in the door.
Before disappearing down the stairs, he paused, his shoulders softening. “Thanks for letting him come.”
“Just make it a good trip for him, all right? You can’t take him to North Dakota, and then bring him back here and just ditch him again. He needs you to be consistent in his life. He needs to know he still has a dad who loves him and cares about him and can’t wait to spend time with him. Be the dad you used to be to him. Don’t end up with him where you’ve ended up with your father, Karl. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I know.” Karl didn’t turn around, but this time the words seemed to come from a deeper place, a place that was real.“That’s the reason I came here.” He drew a breath, his shoulders rising and sinking as if he would say something more, but then he just continued across the room and disappeared down the stairs.
Tears pressed my eyes, and I walked onto the back porch to try to clear my head. It wouldn’t do Dustin any good to see me crying. He’d only feel guilty – as if he were being forced to make a choice between his father and me. I wished I could just fly to North Dakota with Dustin myself, but that wouldn’t do anything to help Karl and Dustin rebuild their relationship. Aside from that, there was no way I could get time off from my job to travel up there. Taz wouldn’t be able to handle the load, even for a little while. I had so many ongoing cases, and there was the tenuous situation with Birdie. I’d planned today’s school-supply run partly as a way of spending more time with her, encouraging her to communicate more freely. Next week, she had appointments with the school psychologist and the caseworker. I wanted those assessments to go well.
I tried to put the rest of the day and the rest of the week out of my mind as I helped Dustin get his things together for the trip. Within twenty minutes, he was ready to leave. A lump clogged my throat as I kissed him good-bye, then stood in the driveway, watching the road long after Karl’s car had disappeared.
I sent a prayer along in their wake. Please make this trip what it needs to be for Dustin. Please make this the first step on a new path.
When I went back inside, the house felt too quiet and too empty.
I stood gazing out the back windows, unaware at first what I was looking for, and then, of course, I knew. I was watching for Mart, wishing I could talk to him about Karl and Dustin, and get Mart’s opinion. Wishing that last night hadn’t ended the way it did. Wishing that last night hadn’t ended. Living within the fantasy was so much better than dealing with reality.
On impulse, I picked up my cell phone and checked for missed calls. There were none, of course. Why would he call, after the way I’d left things? No doubt he’d decided that I was a complete basket case – warm one minute, cold the next. He probably thought I was playing some sort of neurotic game – enjoying the thrill of our clandestine meetings, with no real intention of taking things any further. How could I explain to him that I had no idea what my real intentions were? If I were one of my clients, I would have told myself that the inconsistent behavior was a sign that I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I needed to move beyond past pain and resentments before I could expect to be successful in the present. It was only logical. There were so many layers of defensive insulation wrapped around my heart and soul right now.
But another part of me, somewhere beyond logic, begged the question, How could something that seemed so much like it was meant to be, be a mistake? When Mart and I were together, we were perfect, as if we were made for each other. We fit together like two oddly shaped pieces of a puzzle. What if I never found that again?
I dialed his number, then disconnected the call before it could go through. Setting down the phone, I went to the bedroom to shower and get dressed. I rummaged through my clothes, unsatisfied with everything. It really didn’t matter what I wore today. I was only planning to hang around the house for the morning and then go to the Crossroads this afternoon to pick up B
irdie and take her to the Community Closet. Shorts and a T-shirt would be fine for that. The day was already shaping up to be a hot one. A great day for being on the lake.
A great day for being on the lake with Mart… .
After last night, why in the world would he want to be on the lake with me?
The question drummed in my head as I wandered around the house, looking for things to do. I finished the laundry, cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the bathroom, went outside and filled the rest of the bird feeders, then swept the back deck. Next I hosed down the screened porch, helped Sydney and Ansley cut some old-fashioned roses for their grandma, gathered fallen twigs and branches, and finally weeded a flower bed, watching the lake glisten below, teeming with ski boats and sailboats, paddleboats and water bikes from the resort. Filled with tourists enjoying the last few weekends before the start of school.
Empty of the one thing I was looking for. Where was he today?
Finally I drifted back inside, fixed a late lunch, and checked my phone. No calls.
I watched a rerun of Little House on the Prairie, then took another shower and got ready to head for the Crossroads. It was late enough. After one o’clock. By the time I made it to Len’s selling spot, picked up Birdie, and drove to the Community Closet, the people who’d preregistered would have gone through the line. Since Birdie wasn’t on the list, she had to wait for the leftovers, but leftovers would be better than nothing. At this point, I was actually hopeful about making the trip with her. Some coloring and writing supplies might be useful in bringing out more details about her past. Perhaps when we were finished at the Closet, I’d follow Len back to his farm and have an unofficial session with Birdie. Anything would be better than sitting around home, watching the phone and the lake.
I couldn’t keep myself from looking for Mart one more time as I gathered my materials and left the house. When I passed by the Waterbird, his truck wasn’t in the parking area. Still, I looped around at the end of the lot, turning in while entertaining the random thought that Mart usually came to the Waterbird by boat, so he could be there. I exited my car and walked into the store with no idea of what I was going to say if he was inside. Part of me wanted to just make pleasant conversation, as if the dramatic parting scene last night had never happened.
Part of me knew that would be incredibly juvenile and completely unfair. Mart would think I really was a schizophrenic loony tune. I owed him an explanation and some sort of indication of how I felt about the future.
As my eyes adjusted to the interior, I looked around, hoping to see him, nervous about what to say, wondering what he would say. What was there to say? The company’s right, but the timing’s wrong. Maybe we could slow down, just be friends for now and see what happens – something like that?
I quickly concluded that the store was deserted, except for Pop Dorsey, who was putting straws in a dispenser behind the counter. I bought a drink, so it would look like I was there for a reason.
“Everythin’ all right?” he asked, perhaps sensing my disappointment as I paid for the drink and prepared to leave. Normally, I would have been looking forward to helping a child shop for school supplies and clothes. I’d been doing that since long before getting my counseling degree.Volunteering at the free supply extravaganza was one of the activities I’d truly enjoyed back in Houston. There was nothing like seeing a child’s eyes light up over backpacks, colored pencils, crayons, and free coloring books from places like the National Safety Council. Today, even that had lost its luster.
“Everything’s fine,” I lied to Pop, and he frowned, as if he could tell it. “Kind of quiet around here today, isn’t it?” I really didn’t care why the store was deserted. I was angling for information about Mart. Stretching upward, I looked out the back window. Some of the fishermen were working on a welding project below – the infamous handicapped hoist, undoubtedly. It looked to be almost complete. Mart wasn’t down there.
Pop Dorsey nodded. “Yeah. Sheila had to make a run to Wal-Mart, and the fellas are pluggin’ along on the dock project. We’re gonna give ’er a test run in a bit, if Sheila’ll stay gone long enough.”
And where’s Mart? I waited, but Pop didn’t divulge any more information. “That’s good.”
Pop shrugged, casting a glum look toward the lake. He probably wanted to be down there with the guys. “You and your boy headed out to enjoy this fine weather today?”
“Not today, I’m afraid.” I sounded as unenthusiastic as Pop did. “Dustin left on a trip with his dad to attend his grandfather’s funeral in North Dakota, and I’m driving out to the Crossroads to pick up Birdie and take her to the Community Closet for clothes and school supplies.”
Pop nodded his approval. “Sorry to hear about the funeral, but that’s a real good thing about Birdie. After we get done with the dock project this weekend, we’re gonna rummage around and see what we can gather together to help out at Len’s place. I got some old chain-link fence and a little lumber and whatnot stored behind my shed. Got some leftover paint around, too. It’s all just goin’ to rot. I can’t do much anymore, but I can fill a trash bag and run a paintbrush. From what Reverend Hay said, Len’s place needs a lot of that. I tried talkin’ to Len about it when he was by here with tomatoes yesterday. He didn’t say much, but then again, he never does.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I agreed.“Len needs the help.” Thank goodness for Reverend Hay. Not just anyone could convince people to care about someone like Len.
“That Birdie sure is a sweet little gal.” Pop smiled. “Cute as a bug’s ear. Len brung her in here yesterday. She likes penny candy, so me and her are friends now.”
In the farthest reaches of my memory, I recalled coming into the Waterbird and leaving with free penny candy. Pop Dorsey was younger then but just as friendly. When my mother found out, she let us know that we should beware of strangers offering free gifts.
“I’m glad he’s taking her out around people more.” I’d been trying to communicate to Len that Birdie needed to interact with people, that he didn’t have to keep her hidden in the woods anymore. “I’ll try to talk to him about the house projects when I see him today. He might need a little time to process an idea like that.”
“Well, there’s a lot of us not as quick as we used to be,” Pop observed.“But that don’t mean we haven’t got somethin’ to offer.You know, Sheila and I talked the other day, and we’d be willing to watch after Birdie anytime. If Len can’t get ready to keep her right away, we could move her in with us. My wife, God rest her soul, and I raised four kids of our own and seven foster kids in the back of this ol’ store through the years. I bet you didn’t know that.”
“No, I didn’t.” My spirits lifted a little. A supportive community could make all the difference to Birdie. “Thanks for offering. I really think that with the right amount of pitching in, we can make this work. It’s just going to take some time.”
“Most worthwhile things do,” Pop remarked, closing the cash register. “I think Len will come around to seeing that folks want to help. Sydney and Ansley were here when he came by yesterday, and they took little Birdie in like she was a brand-new baby doll they just got. Mrs. Blue told Len to bring Birdie over anytime the girls are out swimming or playing in the yard. I think he might actually do it. And say, speakin’ of Len – if you get a chance while you’re at the Crossroads, would you mind pickin’ me up another gallon bucket of his tomatoes? Tell him they’re for the Waterbird, and I’ll put money on his account, here at the store.”
“Sure.”
A customer came in the door, and I stepped back from the counter. Pop smiled and waved me off. “Pretty drive out to the Crossroads – lots of views of the lake. Water looks like someone sprinkled it with diamonds today. Take yer time and look around.” He pointed to the motto above the door.
Stop looking ahead. Stop looking back. Stop. Look around. For today, that would be my theme song. I was going to stop worrying and obsessing and just enjoy what the aftern
oon had to offer. “I’ll do that, thanks.” I stepped out the door into the sunlight, feeling the questions in my head dissipate a little. Pop was right. It was a beautiful afternoon. Not the kind of day for walking around under a cloud.
On the way to the Crossroads, I tried not to mull things over too much. I took my aggressions toward Karl out on a few mudholes and laughed a little, thinking that Karl would probably have a heart attack if he could see me now. He didn’t know I was capable of powering through the mud in a monster truck.
The trip around the eastern corner of the lake left the truck covered in sludge. I was a little proud of it, actually. Len, in his strange, shy way, would probably say something like, Ooo-eee! Uuuh-you –ugg-got some umm-mud. When I was leaving after my last visit with Birdie, Len had admired the state of the truck – as if the coating of mud were a badge of honor, proof that I really belonged in the hills.
When I rounded the corner and came within sight of the Crossroads, I didn’t see any sign of Len. Under a tree on the side of the road, an elderly couple was selling watermelons. I pulled over and asked them if they’d see a man and a little girl selling vegetables from a gray truck, and they told me they’d been alone all day.
“That’s strange,” I muttered, and checked my watch. It was after two o’clock. Where could they be?
Pulling under the shade of a tree, I rolled down the windows and turned off the engine. It was worth waiting at least awhile. Surely Len wouldn’t miss an entire Saturday of tomato-hungry tourists. Maybe he’d had trouble with his truck – a flat tire or something. He knew I was planning to meet him. So far, Len had been reliable. Between Mart, the caseworker, and me, we seemed to have convinced him that missing appointments could get him into trouble.
I checked my cell phone, hoping deep down that there would be a message from Mart but telling myself that if there was reception, I’d call Dustin and see how the trip was going. I was almost afraid to check. If Dustin didn’t sound happy, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. By now, he was hundreds of miles away.