by Mary Campisi
When she heard the crunch, crunch behind her, she opened her eyes and swung around, expecting an animal…or maybe Nate because he liked to check on her, especially if he knew she had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in her bag. But it wasn’t an animal or Nate, but a boy, younger than she was with sun-tanned skin, wavy brown hair, and a serious look on his face. Ohhhh… Was this the boy she heard Pop telling Uncle Harry was a product of bad choices? What did that mean? “Hi, I’m Lily.”
The boy shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and kicked the toe of his sneaker against the dirt. “Mason.”
“Hi, Mason.” She liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. “Are you hungry?” She reached for the lunch bag, dug in, and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She unwrapped the sandwich, made sure she didn’t get peanut butter on her fingers and held out half to her new friend. “Do you want part of my sandwich? It’s peanut butter and strawberry jelly.” Lily could tell by the way his eyes lit up that he wanted it even though he didn’t reach for it. “Go ahead.” She inched half of the sandwich toward him. “My mom made the jelly. It’s really, really good.”
“Thanks.” He took the sandwich and bit into it. A shark bite size, too, just like Cash and Nate did when they ate sandwiches. Uncle Harry liked to count his bites, said there was no sense eating something so fast you couldn’t remember eating it, but he talked a lot when he ate, too, so maybe that’s why his food lasted so long. Mason had finished the sandwich before Lily took her second bite. “Do you want some pretzels? I have the square kind. Sixteen of them.” Lily pulled out the sandwich baggie, lifted it in the air. “You can have half of them. If you want, I’ll count them out.”
“Okay.” He waited as she counted out his pretzels.
“Hold out your hands.” When he opened his hands, Lily dumped eight pretzels into them.
“Do you live around here?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, but my brother’s workshop is back there.” She pointed to the old barn that Nate and Mr. Will Carrick remodeled a few years ago. “Nate and Cash work there. They make furniture and stuff.”
“Nate?” The boy made a frowny face and said, “Is that the guy who never smiles?”
She laughed. “Of course he smiles. Nate smiles a lot, especially when he tells silly stories or talks to Anna and Joy. Those are his daughters.”
The boy scrunched up his nose like he’d smelled a rotten potato. “I think he’s scary.”
He sure didn’t know Nate because there was nothing scary about her brother, not really, though sometimes he acted like he wanted people to think he wasn’t so nice. “Nate just gets a frowny face sometimes and his voice turns grumpy, but he’s not scary.” She lowered her voice, leaned toward the boy. “One time he even let me paint his fingernail blue.” Giggle, giggle. “Only the pinky and I had to take it off right away.”
The boy stared at her, made a face. “Cash would never let anybody paint his fingernails.”
“Cash? Bet I could get him to let me paint one.” She tapped a finger to her chin, thought about what color she’d choose. “I’d paint his pinky gold. Bet he’d like that one. It would match the sparkles in his eyes.” Lily studied the boy. “Kind of like yours.”
His smile burst open like a big sunflower. “We have the same hair, too.” He pointed to his head. “Kind of brown with gold in it. And waves.”
“Yeah.” Lily liked the boy’s hair, liked his eyes, too, and his smile. He reminded her a lot of Cash. They kind of looked the same, like they could be related.
Mason nodded, ran a hand through the hair that reminded her of Cash’s. “We both like red licorice and mangos,” he said, his voice dipping so she had to listen hard to hear.
“You do?” Lots of people liked red licorice, but she didn’t know many who liked red licorice and mangos. Lily rubbed her jaw and narrowed her gaze on him. “Are you and Cash kind of related?” She didn’t think Cash had any relatives other than his aunt, and of course, Henry, but he was a dog. The boy leaned in, whispered in her ear. “What?” Lily jerked back, stared at every inch of him, trying to see the truth in his words. She drew in three breaths and let them out slowly, like Nate had taught her to do when she was overexcited and needed to calm down. He said it helped see answers to questions that didn’t make sense, kind of like when you walk in a pond and muddy the water. You have to stand still and wait for all the water to settle so you can see your feet. Lily blew out one more breath and whispered, “You’re Cash’s son?”
That sunflower smile spread, lit his eyes. “Uh-huh. But don’t tell anybody because it’s a secret.” He paused, added, “For now.”
“Oh. Why for now?” If Cash had a boy, did that mean Tess was a mom? Or was she a stepmom? And why didn’t Cash tell any of them he already had a boy? Pop said Cash and Tess needed a child that wasn’t a four-legged one and it didn’t matter if the child dropped from the sky or came on a boat, they needed one. Lily smiled, her heart jumping with excitement and joy. They needed a child and now they had one. Except… “Where’s your mother?”
More whispers. “She’s here. We’re staying at the Heart Sent right now, but Mom says pretty soon I’ll have my own backyard and we won’t have to share a washer and dryer with strangers anymore.” He blew out a long sigh. “I can’t wait to roast hot dogs and marshmallows whenever I want.”
Lily thought on this a second, tilted her head to one side. Mason really did have the same color eyes as Cash and when he smiled, they crinkled at the sides, just like Cash’s. “You have to get permission before you can do that or you’ll get into trouble. Cash caught two boys out here one night trying to start a campfire and they got into big trouble because they could have burned down all the trees.”
“He’d let me do it once he showed me how.”
Lily shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t. Neither would Nate because it’s very dangerous and you have to be very careful. Even Uncle Harry doesn’t try to start a fire. He says the only kind of fire he wants to start is the one from a gas grill, where you just have to press a button.”
“Is Harry the guy with the monster house and the pool?”
“Uh-huh.” She giggled, spread her arms wide. “It’s gigantic, and it has ten bathrooms.”
“That’s the kind of house I’m going to live in.”
“You are? Where?”
He shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dunno, but Mom says our new house will make where we live now look like a castle. She says I can have my own bathroom, too.”
Lily had her own bathroom unless somebody stayed over and then she had to share. But she didn’t mind. Aunt Greta said more bathrooms just meant more cleaning, and Mom agreed. So did Christine and Pop. Everybody agreed but Uncle Harry who said he liked the extra bathrooms because like he said, When you gotta go, you gotta go. She bet Mason would like to swim in Uncle Harry’s pool and maybe see the room with the exercise equipment and the bowling alley. She was about to ask him when he said something that stopped her, made her squint at him.
“We’re moving to Magdalena, but I don’t know when.” He puffed out his chest, sniffed the air. “Mom said when the time is right, whatever that means.”
“How will she know when the time is right?” Maybe his mom had a calendar and blocked off the days like Lily used to do when her father was in Chicago. It was easy to cross off each day and figure out when he’d come back. Maybe that’s what Mason’s mother did, too. “Is your mom using a calendar to tell her when it’s the right time?” Calendars were helpful. Lily loved them; some had dogs on the pages, others horses, or flowers, and last Christmas, she and Christine sent in pictures of Anna and Joy and a company made a calendar with those pictures. Mom and Nate sure loved those calendars…
“What are you talking about?” He made a frowny face like Nate did, big and just as unhappy. “We’re waiting for Cash to tell us when the time is right. Mom says he’ll know and she says it’ll be soon.”
“THIS IS ABSOLUT
ELY the best meatloaf I’ve ever tasted.” Stephanie forked a green bean and said, “I’ve never had it with tomato sauce and garlic in the mix. Usually, it’s brown gravy.” Her laughter tinkled across the table. “But then, that’s what the restaurants carry.”
Cash set down his glass of beer, raised a brow. “Are you saying you’ve never made meatloaf?” When she shook her head, he raised a brow. “Steph, meatloaf is cooking 101. Everybody knows how to make a meatloaf, no matter what they put in it. Heck, today people use bison, turkey, guess you could even go with the meatless stuff if you wanted to, but then you’d have to think of a different name for it.” A smile hovered over his full lips. “How about a meatless loaf?”
More tinkling laughter, but this time Cash joined in. Tess observed the interaction, the smiles and compliments mixed in with just a hint of what looked like old-fashioned flirtation. Cash might not see it that way, but Tess did and she bet his ex did, too. The woman’s next words proved exactly that.
“Not everybody is a cook, Daniel Casherdon. Some of us are blessed—” she raised a small shoulder, shrugged “—and some of us are not.”
Mason scrunched up his nose and made a face. “Mom can’t cook. She burns everything and it smells gross and then the smoke alarm goes off.” More nose-scrunching, followed by a smirk. “Then we get to order pizza.”
“Hmm. Are you sure you’re not rigging it so the food burns and you get a pizza?”
Mason grinned. “Nope. Mom does the burning all by herself.”
“True. I’m a horrible cook.”
“But you could learn.” Mason’s eyes turned bright, his voice soft. “Dad could teach you.”
Dad. Mason had started calling him that on and off and each time he did, Cash lit up, his expression bursting with a big smile. It was as hard to watch as it was endearing. Tess had always hoped that one day they’d have a child together and the words Mom and Dad would swirl through the house. But now there was Mason. Tess forked a piece of meatloaf, slid it into her mouth, and chewed as talk of food and family smothered her.
“Your father doesn’t have time to teach me how to make a meatloaf or even scrambled eggs. He’s too busy.” Stephanie shot him a look and a smile. “And we’re very appreciative he can spend any time with us.” Her voice switched to cozy. “He’s a good man with a big heart, but I’ll bet he draws the line at cooking classes.”
Tess felt Cash’s eyes on her, as though waiting for her to dispute Stephanie’s claim. How could she do that when what the woman said was true? Cash was a good man and he had a giant heart, but when he got angry he didn’t always think straight and he’d let pride get in the way of common sense more than once.
“What do you think, Tess?” Stephanie leaned back in her chair, tapped a finger to her chin. “Is Cash as wonderful as he seems?”
Tess dragged her gaze to her husband’s, her heart aching for the closeness they’d shared before Stephanie Richmond arrived. “Yes,” she murmured. “He’s all that and more.” His eyes grew bright, his expression softening.
“Cash?” Stephanie broke the moment with hand clapping and a loud laugh. “You aren’t used to compliments, are you? By the red on your face, I’d say you aren’t.”
He toyed with a potato, cutting it into tiny pieces. “Most compliments are smothered in BS and a smile. I could care less if my hair is ‘sun-kissed’ and my smile ‘melts ice.’ So what? And if people think I’m such a decent human being, my wife should invite them to stick around awhile because they’ll see the dark side of me soon enough.” He didn’t look at Tess but continued with his massacre of the boiled potato wedge. “If they stick around despite the rough edges, then I’ll call them my friends, but I don’t like when most people pay me compliments, if you want to call them that. What do words like that mean anyway?” He shrugged. “Nothing. Show me, don’t tell me; that’s my motto.”
Stephanie didn’t speak for a few seconds and when she did, her voice spilled into the room with the softness of the fleece blankets Tess favored. “You’re right. It takes a big person to admit that, and deny it if you like, but you’re a big man, Daniel Casherdon.” She paused, her words dipped in sweetness. “Big in stature and big in heart.”
“Yeah, well.” Cash caught Mason staring at him. “Big feet and a big head, too.”
The boy laughed. “I’m gonna have big feet, too. Mom says a few more years and she’ll have to take me to one of those specialty places.”
“You don’t say?”
A nod and a grin. “Yup. And the doctor says I’ll probably be way over six feet, like six three or four.”
“No kidding? Well, that must come from your mom’s side of the family because it doesn’t come from mine.”
Stephanie pinned her son with a look that said teasing was over. “Eat your meatloaf and don’t think about how big your feet will be.”
“But if I’m real tall, I won’t fit in a small car.”
“You have a lot of years before you worry about that.”
“Not that long.”
“Mason.”
The edge in her voice warned the boy back to his food but Tess knew her sharpness had nothing to do with shoe size and everything to do with the reference to years down the road. While Mason might top six feet with a specialty-shoe size, Stephanie wouldn’t know because she wouldn’t be here. A spurt of sympathy made Tess change the subject.
“Did you know Cash can listen to the sounds a car makes and tell what’s wrong with it?”
“He can?” Mason sat up in his chair, eyes wide. “Can you really do that?”
“I used to be able to, but that was back in the day when everything wasn’t electronic. Then, you could listen, touch, open things up and look inside. Now, it’s all about computers.”
“But don’t let him fool you; he’s still got a way with cars.” She met his gaze, smiled. “Ask him to show you the car he’s got torn apart in the garage. A 1964 Mustang.”
Mason let out a squeal. “Wow! Can you show me? Please?”
“Sure.” Cash pushed back his chair, stood, and placed a hand on Tess’s shoulder. “Can you handle the cleanup tonight?”
She nodded. “Go ahead. And thanks for dinner. It was great.”
His lips pulled into a slow smile and he squeezed her shoulder. Then he bent and placed a soft kiss on her temple. “Glad you liked it.”
He’d sounded almost like the old Cash and that made Tess happy and giddy…and relieved. After the awkward silences and shortness between them, the small compliments and simple gestures they’d often shared were a welcome gift. Tess stood and began gathering the dishes, her thoughts on her husband.
“I know you must hate seeing Cash with Mason.”
Stephanie’s words blew Tess’s renewed good spirits into a thousand pieces of distress. “Why would you think that?”
The woman met her gaze head on. “I know I wouldn’t like it if it were Lewis. Honestly, it would tear me up to see my husband with a child that wasn’t ours.” She paused, gentled her voice. “Especially if we didn’t have children of our own. I mean, how do you ever get past that?”
Tess fought the pain centering in her chest and ignored what might be the truth behind that question. “We plan to have children.”
Those dark eyes sparked. “Of course, Mason isn’t a replacement for those children. He could never be that. I can’t imagine how difficult this situation must be for you, but can you try to forget how Mason got here and love my son as if he were your own?”
How could Tess refuse and yet, how could she promise to love a child whose very existence reminded her of something she wanted to forget?
“Tess?” Stephanie’s soft voice pulled her back. “If you can’t, I’m not sure what this will do to Cash…or to your relationship.”
How dare the woman have an opinion about Cash and their relationship! He was Tess’s husband, her soul mate, and Stephanie Richmond might have carried his child, but she did not know him, did not know his fears, his sadness, h
is dreams…she did not know him the way Tess did. But was Cash confiding more than he should? “How is it you have an opinion on what my husband will or won’t do? It’s not your business, Stephanie. He’s my husband and this is my family. Not yours.”
“Mason is still my son.”
“Yes, he is, but you’ve come to this town and asked me to be his stepmother. If I’m going to do that, you have to let me. I understand that you want to be here for him for as long as you can, but did you ever stop to think you might be sending him mixed messages? Do you want him to like me, or would you rather he thinks I’m the evil stepmother?” Tess sucked in a breath and forced out the rest of her words. “Give him a chance to fit in, or he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering why he can’t.”
POP WAITED until he sat down to supper to read the letters Tula Rae gave him. He figured a big dish of rigatoni and meatballs, courtesy of Ramona Casherdon, would help him get through the letters. “I’m not sure I want to read these, Lucy. What if they twist my heart and give it an ache that won’t stop? What will I do then?” He eased the first letter from its envelope, spread it open.
DEAR TULA RAE:
I finally worked up the courage to ask Mimi Pendergrass for your address. Of course, she remembered you, even though it’s been almost a year since you visited Magdalena. Mimi doesn’t share guest information, but I must have looked properly forlorn because she located the month of your visit and disappeared into the kitchen so I could peruse the pages. When she reappeared, I’d closed the book and she asked that I not request such a favor again.
Do not think I haven’t dreamed of Maine and craggy rocks, or drinking coffee and digging out chunks of meat from freshly caught lobsters. What would it feel like to sit perched on one of those rocks, to feel the salt water misting my face?
I know you must be terribly disappointed in me and I don’t blame you. Perhaps you won’t even read this letter, perhaps you will tear it up and toss it in the trash when you see it’s from me. I pray you don’t, but I won’t know as I don’t expect a response. In fact, you must not respond because I can’t risk hurting Angelo any more than I already have.