Another Summer

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Another Summer Page 17

by Georgia Bockoven


  She pointed to their right. “See those sand dunes? That’s where they used to practice shooting their guns.”

  “Didn’t it scare the birds?”

  She had given birth to a lover, not a fighter. “I’m sure it did. It probably scared a lot of things, including people.”

  “I don’t like guns.”

  “Me either.”

  “Mom?”

  “What?”

  He hesitated. “Could we talk like this again?”

  It took her a second to figure out what he was asking. And then it hit her. He thought they were having a good day, one that might not happen again. Oh, Jeremy, what have I done to you?

  “I know I’ve been sad for a long time now,” she said. “And I wish I could tell you that it’s over and that I’m going to be okay from now on, but I know I still have a long way to go. The one thing I can promise you is that I’m going to try every day to make that day less sad than the one before.”

  “How come you’re better now?”

  She could hear the wariness in his voice. As much as he wanted to believe her, he was afraid to. “I think it’s because I finally want to be, Jeremy. For a long time I thought that in order to get better I had to stop loving Angela. I know now that isn’t true.”

  He didn’t need to know about the guilt she would carry the rest of her life. That was her problem, not his.

  “I asked God to let her come back,” he said softly, plainly telling her something he had told no one else. “But He didn’t. I don’t think He was listening.”

  “I asked, too, Jeremy. And so did your dad. Because Angela didn’t come back doesn’t mean God wasn’t listening. Sometimes we’re so intent on getting exactly what we ask for that we miss the fact our prayers have been answered in another way.”

  He looked deeply, hopefully into her eyes. “How?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure it out myself.”

  They slipped into an easy silence that was with them all the way into Monterey. They were at the waterfront when Ann asked, “Have you studied the California missions in school?”

  “A little. Our teacher said the priests were really mean to the Indians.”

  “They were by our standards today. Back then whoever was stronger and more powerful didn’t try to understand or respect anyone who was different than they were. It was the way people treated each other.”

  “Timmy’s sister treats us that way sometimes.”

  “I think we should visit a couple of the missions while we’re here and see what it was like back then.”

  His eyes grew wide. “You’re going to make me do history things for my surprise?”

  “No, not for your surprise. That’s something different. I’m going to make you do history things for fun.”

  “It wasn’t very much fun in class.”

  Until fifth grade Ann had made the effort to know all of Jeremy’s teachers, the good and the bad. Luckily, he’d had mostly good. She had no idea what his teacher had been like this year. “It’s going to be fun here–I guarantee it.”

  She turned at the sign that said PACIFIC GROVE. “While you were in the shower I was looking in a book I found at the house that had a hundred fun things for us to do around here.”

  “School things?”

  She laughed. “Not all of them.”

  “Good.”

  Ann turned onto Lighthouse Avenue, and told Jeremy, “Look for Seventeenth Street.” He pointed it out several blocks later. She turned right and as soon as they came to the end, pulled into a parking spot.

  Jeremy looked around. “This is the surprise? I don’t get it.”

  “You will.”

  She got out and came around the car, slipping her arm across his shoulders to guide him toward a landscaped park sitting on a rocky promontory overlooking the bay. Wind-sculpted cypress provided shade on sunny days, grass a place to lay blankets, and below the cliffs, sandy beaches a place to play in the surf.

  Jeremy immediately spotted divers in face masks and scuba gear, then farther out, a bright red kayak skimming across the calm water. Ann took him to the railing and let him explore on his own for several minutes. “Look closer,” she finally said.

  “Where?”

  She pointed to the kelp beds. “Down there.”

  “You mean at the wood–” He sucked in his breath in surprise. “Wow. Is that–It is,” he squealed. “Otters. Tons of ‘em. Wow. Look over there, Mom. That one’s got a baby on his stomach. And look at that one, the one rolling over and over. Why is he doing that? Look, there’s another one with a baby.”

  He climbed on the bottom rail to get a better look. Ann grabbed the back of his shirt, biting back the warning to be careful. She pointed to a spot another fifty yards offshore. “Look over there.”

  “What is it?”

  “A harbor seal.”

  “He’s looking right at us. This is soooo cool.”

  A man who looked to be in his early fifties, wearing shorts and a 49ers cap turned to look at Jeremy. “I take it this is your first time to Lover’s Point?”

  Jeremy nodded. “My mom’s, too.”

  “I come every day. It’s never the same.”

  “The desert can be that way, too,” Ann said.

  He smiled. “I guess home is where the heart is.”

  It was such an unusual thing for him to say she didn’t know how to answer.

  “We live in Reno,” Jeremy said.

  “An interesting city.” He bowed his head slightly and moved to leave. “I hope you have a wonderful vacation.”

  “Thank you,” Ann said.

  She looked at Jeremy, at the color in his cheeks, the unconscious grin, the light in his eyes. Home is where the heart is. A timeworn cliché, the kind stitched and framed and sold at craft fairs. One she’d never given more than a passing thought.

  Her heart had been divided between a beautiful little girl who no longer needed her and a husband and son who desperately did. A part of her heart would always be with Angela, but it was time Ann returned to the home where she was cherished and loved and complete.

  “Come on,” she said to Jeremy, reaching for his hand. “We have one more place to go today.”

  8

  “HOW DID YOU KNOW?” JEREMY ASKED, as Ann pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store in Capitola. They were there to buy cat food.

  Ann was tempted to make up a story about mothers having second sight, but settled for the truth. “Dad told me.”

  “How did Dad know?”

  “He saw the cat sleeping on the side of the house near the empty can of salmon and figured it out.”

  “He doesn’t belong to anyone,” Jeremy said defensively. “He was really skinny before I started feeding him.”

  She waited for what she was sure would come next, the plea to take him home, but Jeremy didn’t say anything. “He must have belonged to someone once. Dad said he was wearing a collar that had a tag.”

  “I put that collar on him. And the tag has my name on it. It says, Francis, friend of Jeremy’s.”

  Ann frowned. “How did–”

  “It was a birthday present. From my friend who helped me build the sand castle. He gave me a comb and some cat treats, too.”

  She found a parking place near the front door, pulled in, and turned off the car. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since the day after we got here.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because you and Dad would have said he had rabies or something, and you would have made me stop feeding him.”

  He was right. It was exactly what she and Craig would have said and done. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “What kind of deal?”

  “We’ll take him to a vet tomorrow and have him checked over. If he’s all right, you can take care of him while we’re here.”

  “I don’t want to take him to a vet. If he’s sick, they’ll put him to sleep
. That’s what they did to Timmy’s dog.” Dejected, his chin dropped to his chest.

  “A vet only puts an animal to sleep if it can’t be made well. I just want to make sure your cat is okay, that he doesn’t have worms or anything like that. If he is sick, we’ll get him medicine.”

  He looked up at her through long, golden lashes. “You said my cat. Does that mean I get to keep him?”

  She and Craig had agreed that as long as they were both working they wouldn’t have pets. It wasn’t fair to keep an animal locked up and alone all day. But she wasn’t working anymore and didn’t know if she would ever go back. “You can keep him–”

  “I can? Really?” In his excitement his voice rose to a high-pitched squeak. A second later the smile faded. “Forever or just while we’re here?”

  What she’d meant to say was that Jeremy could take care of him while they were there and that they would make sure there was someone to take over when they left. She should have known they couldn’t just stop and pick up cat food. What could she have been thinking? It wasn’t fair to make this kind of decision without Craig. He didn’t like cats.

  She looked at Jeremy and decided she owed him this one. “Forever.” He started to get excited again, and she held up her hand to stop him. “But–and this is a big one, Jeremy–first we have to check with the animal shelter and the newspaper to see if someone is trying to find him.”

  She could see the battle taking place in his mind. Jeremy had a sense of fair play that went beyond self-interest. No matter how much it hurt, he would do what was right.

  “Okay,” Jeremy said. He opened the car door.

  “But I won’t give him back if he ran away because the people are mean to him.”

  “That’s fair.” She met him at the front of the car and put her arm across his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with. I want to meet this cat of yours.”

  “He only comes in the morning, so you have to wait until then. And he’s not very good-looking right now. He has all these big clumps of hair that I can’t get out with the comb even when he lets me try.”

  “We’ll ask the vet to recommend a groomer and let them get the mats out.” This was turning into a project.

  They stopped in the pet food aisle in front of shelves and shelves of different brands and varieties. “If we make him look good again, the people might want him back,” Jeremy said.

  Ann stopped reading labels to stare at him. “When did you turn into such a worrier?” She wished she could take the words back the moment they were out. She knew, they both knew, when and why Jeremy had changed.

  THE NEXT MORNING ANN STOOD BY THE CORner of the house as Jeremy called Francis. When he didn’t come, Jeremy went around to the back to check the deck. Minutes later he returned, looking scared. “He’s not here. Something happened to him.”

  “Maybe he’s late.”

  “He’s always here when I come out.” He looked down at the dish of food he was carrying. “Always.”

  “Maybe my being here scared him off.” The possibility something could have happened to the cat made Ann sick with fear. “He’s not used to seeing me with you.”

  A glimmer of hope shone from Jeremy’s eyes. “You think he’s hiding?”

  “Could be. Why don’t I go back inside and give him a chance to see you out here alone.”

  Jeremy sat in his usual place and called, “Francis … hey, kitty, kitty, kitty. I brought your breakfast, Francis. It’s real food this time. Come and see.”

  Ann went inside and stood by the kitchen window. She listened to Jeremy call Francis for a half hour before she went outside again. “I don’t think he’s coming,” she said gently.

  Jeremy looked up at her with eyes red and swollen from crying. “What if he got run over by a car and needs me to help him?”

  “Come on. We’ll ask the neighbors if anyone has seen him.”

  He put the dish in the middle of the walkway, just in case. “I wish Dad was here to help us.”

  “Me too.” She started back to the house to pick up her key, then stopped to wait for him to catch up. When he did, she brought him into her arms for a long, tight hug.

  “We’ll find him, Jeremy.” She had no right telling him something she didn’t know to be true, but a few more hours of hope was all she had to give. “We won’t stop until we do.”

  They knocked on doors and looked in bushes and climbed over fences and walked on the roads around the houses and in the park for three hours without success. They were on their way back to the house to check if the cat had sneaked back and eaten the food Jeremy left him when a green Honda pulled alongside them and stopped.

  A young man who looked to be in his late teens stuck his head out the window. “Did you lose something?” he asked.

  “A cat,” Ann answered.

  “What does it look like?”

  Ann had no idea. She glanced at Jeremy.

  “He’s about this big–” He held his hands a foot apart. “And he’s gray and brown and has long hair that’s all stuck together.”

  “Sounds like the stray that’s been hanging around here the past month. He’s yours?”

  “Not exactly,” Ann said. “We want to adopt him.”

  “I saw animal control out here yesterday. You might check with them.”

  “What’s animal control?” Jeremy asked.

  A half-truth would do for now. “They pick up lost animals and take care of them until the owners can come and get them.”

  With natural ease, the young man in the car reached out and put a comforting hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “You must be some special kid to make friends with that cat. I’ve been trying for weeks, and he wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “He knew I was coming,” Jeremy said with conviction. “Only he got here too soon and had to wait for me.”

  Ann stared at Jeremy. He’d never made things up before. It was disconcerting to think he would start now. “How could he know you were coming?”

  “I don’t know. He just did. The man told me Francis was waiting for me because he needed me.” Jeremy looked at her. “And I needed him.”

  Despite the warm day, a shiver raced through Ann, raising goose bumps on her arms. “We’d better get going. Thank you …”

  “Paul,” he said. “Paul Williams. I live in the house with the green shutters.” To Jeremy, he said, “Let me know when you get your cat home, will you? All I’ve ever seen is a streak of gray running through the bushes.”

  “You can see him after my mom takes him to the groomer.”

  Paul smiled and shifted the Honda in gear. “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t,” Jeremy called after him.

  ANN AND JEREMY WENT FROM THE SHELTER, where they paid several fees to bail Francis out, to a walk-in veterinarian, and immediately afterward to a groomer. While Francis was being bathed and clipped and brushed and dried, they went to a pet store to pick up a litter pan, litter, a brush the groomer had recommended, toys, catnip, treats, hair ball medication, and a cat carrier. The entire time they were shopping Ann thought about the possibility of finding Francis’s real owner. By the time they reached the checkout line, Ann had decided she would do whatever was necessary, pay whatever was asked, to allow Jeremy to keep his cat.

  With three hours to wait, Ann took Jeremy to The Wharf House at the end of the pier in Capitola, hoping to distract him with a lunch of fish and chips and an ocean filled with surfers and sailboats. He looked and he listened, but his heart and mind were with Francis.

  “Do you think Dad will like him?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. He’d seen Francis at his worst: maybe at his best Craig might weaken a little. Especially when he saw how much the cat meant to Jeremy.

  “Do you like him?”

  What she liked was the cat’s reaction when he saw Jeremy at the shelter. He’d started meowing the minute he spotted Jeremy coming down the aisle, then reached between the bars with his paw as if waving to him. As s
oon as the cage was open, he jumped into Jeremy’s arms and purred so loudly she could hear him from the other side of the room. When they rubbed noses it was everything Ann could do to keep from telling Jeremy not to get too close to the less-than-wonderful-smelling animal. Instead she busied herself with the papers for Francis’s release and tried not to think what might be crawling around under the mats in the cat’s fur.

  “I do like him. And I think I’m going to like him even better when he’s clean.”

  “What if Dad doesn’t like him?”

  He was looking for something she couldn’t give him. No matter what she said, Jeremy would worry about his father’s reaction until Craig himself told him how he felt about having a cat. “If your dad doesn’t like Francis, there’s only one thing we can do.”

  “What?”

  “Get another dad.”

  His jaw dropped, and his eyes grew wide in stunned surprise. It took several seconds before he realized she was teasing. “I’m going to tell Dad you said that.”

  Ann laughed. “Don’t you dare.”

  He giggled and crawled across the bench seat to give her a hug. His face buried in her neck, he said, “You’re the best, Mom. I love you.”

  She ran her hand through his silken hair. In her grief over the child she’d lost, she’d almost forgotten what a special child she still had. “I love you, too, Jeremy.”

  9

  ANN FINISHED EMPTYING THE DISHWASHER and went to check on Jeremy. He was sleeping curled on his side, Francis tucked against his stomach. The cat had shadowed Jeremy from the moment they picked him up from the groomers, following him from room to room, even sitting outside the bathroom door to wait while Jeremy was inside. Looking at the two of them together she could almost believe there was a special bond between them and that Francis had known Jeremy was coming.

  The bath and grooming had produced an animal she almost hadn’t recognized. Once his hair grew back from the clipping, he would be a striking cat. Now all they had to do was convince Craig.

  She’d left a message for him on the machine at home and at the office and still hadn’t heard back. If there was no return call by the time she went to bed, she would try him on the cell phone, something she rarely did when he was working.

 

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