by Pamela Morsi
“What the devil are you doing in my yard?” Red yelled angrily at the woman.
She continued to approach, unintimidated. She was perhaps twenty years older than Red. Her perfectly coiffed updo and line-free Botoxed forehead were in sharp contrast to her angry narrowed eyes and the line of her mouth as she answered through clenched teeth.
“Your yard?” she said with drawn-out sarcasm. “I don’t believe so.”
“If you’re not out of here in one minute,” Red threatened, “then I’m calling the police.”
“No, I’m the one calling the police,” the woman countered. “That hellion of yours has been throwing stones at my birdhouses. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t killed one of the bluebirds or the little wrens.”
“There’s nothing in your backyard but sparrows,” Red informed her. “And he’s not a good enough shot to kill anything.”
“But he tried,” the woman ranted. “He’s an undisciplined child with apparently no upbringing at all. I’ve watched them over here, day after day, doing whatever they like with virtually no supervision at all. Growing up to be no better than the irresponsible people who created them. I don’t know why they allow people like you to even have children. You carelessly breed like rats and then ignore your offspring, drinking all night and sleeping all day. You foist these wild children on the community and they end up as menaces or criminals.”
“These children are not menaces or criminals!”
The woman gave a hmmph of disdain. “Attempting to murder innocent animals certainly qualifies as being a menace.”
Beside her, Daniel was tugging frantically on Red’s nightgown. She looked down to see an expression of remorse on his face, which was awash with tears. Red couldn’t resist the need to comfort him. She dropped to her knees and pulled his shaking body into her arms. The warmth of him, the smell of his hair, the small vulnerable form against her, awakened something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.
“I wouldn’t hurt a bird, Grandma,” he whispered, using the first English he’d ever spoken to her. “I threw the rocks, but I never meant to hurt a bird.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” she told him. “And you didn’t hurt anything or anyone.” Red squeezed him tightly to her for a moment and then held him at arm’s length. “Now, can you do something for me?”
He nodded, still frightened but wanting to be brave.
“Could you go get Olivia and take her inside?” Red said. “I think this mean old witch is scaring her.”
“Okay…okay.”
Red watched as the boy grabbed his sister’s hand and ran toward the house. She turned back to the intruder. The woman was glaring at Red as if she were a cockroach that had suddenly appeared atop a white linen tablecloth. Red knew that look. She’d lived through it once before. Then, she had been cowed. Today, she was livid. She took two steps forward and jerked the broom out of the woman’s hands.
“GET OUT OF MY YARD!”
Startled, the woman stepped backward. But it wasn’t fast enough for Red. She began swatting her across the back of her Ann Taylor slacks as the woman ran toward the gate. Three, four, five times Red managed to land a blow before the yelping intruder was safe on the far side of the fence. Red threw the broom into her backyard with the last word.
“And stay out!”
Red turned and walked back to the house, filled with great satisfaction. Surprised, she felt light enough to walk on air. She was actually grinning by the time she caught sight of the kids’ noses pressed up against the glass of the kitchen window.
When she stepped inside, the kids were wide-eyed and stunned into silence.
Red self-consciously cleared her throat. She was pretty certain that this was not the way Bridge would have handled the situation. And it was undoubtedly not a good example of conflict resolution for the children. Red didn’t know how to fix that, so she didn’t try.
“Okay,” she said to Olivia and Daniel as they stared at her in awe. “I don’t think she’ll be back. Still, it’s probably a smart idea to set up any targets you’re going to throw at in the middle of the yard. We don’t want to bother our neighbors, and we certainly don’t want to accidentally hurt any animals.”
The two children nodded solemnly.
“So…uh…I think I’ll get some coffee and…ah…why don’t we clean up this kitchen?”
To her surprise, the kids jumped right into it. The three of them worked together congenially for the next twenty minutes. It took only about five of that before they were reliving the backyard encounter with much humor. Daniel retrieved their broom from the pantry closet, feigning a need to sweep the kitchen floor and then delightedly demonstrated Red’s attack on the neighbor by bashing the chairs with it. His expression, clearly meant to convey a raving maniac, had Red and Olivia laughing until both were holding aching sides.
It was the most fun Red had had with the kids. They were smart, entertaining, resourceful and full of life. And she enjoyed every moment of being with them.
When the doorbell rang and Cam walked in, it felt like a cherry had been added to the top of a hot-fudge sundae.
“You’ll never believe what happened this morning,” Daniel blurted out as soon as Cam crossed the threshold.
Cam smiled, but somehow it didn’t seem totally genuine.
“I want to hear everything,” Cam assured him. “But first I need to talk to Red for a couple of minutes.” He turned to her. “Have you got another cup of that coffee?”
“Sure,” she answered and turned to pour him a cup.
Daniel couldn’t keep his story quiet another minute and was talking a blue streak about the backyard encounter, utilizing the broom as a prop in the demonstration.
“Hey, did you learn English last night?” Cam interrupted him. “I swear you were a Spanish speaker when I saw you yesterday.”
Daniel giggled and shrugged.
Red handed Cam his coffee. “Do you want to sit out on the patio?” she suggested.
Cam glanced through the kitchen window at the backyard and beyond.
“Maybe we should sit on the front porch,” he said.
She followed him back through the house and out the front door. The morning heat was beginning to pick up and the sun flooded the area of the wicker furniture, but Cam took a seat there anyway.
He looked good to her this morning, really good. Red was certain that had to be in the eye of the beholder, because he’d clearly just rolled out of bed. His usually well-groomed hair had been jerked back into an untidy ponytail. He wore a T-shirt with cutoffs, and instead of cowboy boots he had on flip-flops. A stubble of beard added to the unkempt allure.
For an instant she was tempted to plant her behind right in his lap. That was where she wanted to be. But the reserve in his demeanor discouraged that.
Red sat on the swing and watched as he took a sip of coffee. Something was up. She wasn’t sure what, but it wasn’t good.
Their eyes met across the width of the porch.
“Okay, I’m listening,” she told him.
“No,” he replied. “I’m the one who’s listening. I want to hear your side of the story.”
“What story?”
“The one that got my morning off to such an abrupt start,” he answered. “Something about assaulting my aunt and ordering her off the property.”
“Your aunt?”
Cam nodded and took another sip of coffee before he spoke.
“I know you’re not the type to try to suck up to my relatives. Still, she’s the only family that I have, so it would be nice if you didn’t go out of your way to make her hate you.”
“That bitch is your aunt?”
“Uh…yeah,” he replied. “I’m sure I told you that my dad lived across the backyard. Phyllis Early is my father’s sister.”
“You may have mentioned something about your dad,” Red recalled. “But you never said anything about this aunt.”
He shrugged. “Or maybe you just weren’t listeni
ng,” he suggested.
Cam’s words held the sting of truth. She didn’t always listen to him. The less she knew, the easier it was to move on.
“You never told me. I’m sure of that,” she lied with conviction.
“Okay,” he said a bit too calmly. “The scoop is, my parents grew up across the backyard from each other. My grandfather put in the gate between the yards when they were children. Until today, everyone has always just gone back and forth without much fuss about it.”
Red felt the color rise in her cheeks. “I had no idea that she was your aunt,” she told him. “And she started it! But you’d probably never believe that.”
Cam raised an eyebrow. “If you say that’s the way it was, then I believe it,” he answered.
“Good. Then that’s settled.”
Red rose with the hope of making a quick retreat, but Cam wasn’t letting her off that easy.
“Sit!” he commanded, pointing to the chair.
“I am not an Irish setter.”
He nodded agreement. “Please sit,” he revised. “I still have a few questions.”
“Okay,” she replied, reluctantly complying.
“I don’t want to argue with you,” Cam said. “And I don’t want to second-guess you. I just need your side of this so I can figure out how to smooth things over.”
“Don’t bother on my account,” Red told him. “I don’t need anything smoothed over. The woman is a bitch and if she comes into the backyard again while I’m living here, I’ll kick her fancy-pants butt and enjoy the experience.”
Cam templed his fingers against the bridge of his nose.
“Not a hopeful start, Red,” he pointed out. “While you’re here in the neighborhood, you need to get along. Aunt Phyl can make trouble for you, and I don’t want that to happen.”
Red snorted. “That whiny sack of designer clothes couldn’t begin to make trouble for me.”
“You’d be surprised. Aunt Phyl and her posse pretty much run this town.”
“Her posse?”
He shrugged. “My description, not hers. Aunt Phyl has this little clique of Alamo Heights matrons who get together at the Argyle for coffee and gossip a couple of times a week. If you’re under discussion, you might as well hire a billboard because everybody in town will know about it in no time.”
“Like I would care?” Red shook her head dismissively.
Cam eyed her critically. “Of course you wouldn’t,” he said. “But it’s not all about you anymore, is it?”
“Oh, I guess you don’t want me tarnishing your reputation among your peeps.”
“I wasn’t thinking about myself,” he said. “Despite your occasional need to talk down to me, I’m an adult male, perfectly capable of taking responsibility for my own choices. I was thinking about Olivia and Daniel. Isn’t this time hard enough for them? Their mom is in the middle of a war. Their grandmother is ill. And they are making a life in a new school with all new people. I think they should get to do that without the added burden of social ostracism.”
“I’d rather see them ostracized than caught up in all that social-climbing crap.”
The vehemence of her response caught his attention and Red knew that she’d said too much. Quickly she attempted to deflect the questions that her reaction might have provoked.
“Your stupid aunt accused Daniel of throwing rocks at her birdhouses. Can you imagine anything less likely?”
“He was throwing rocks, though.”
“I’m sure she told you that,” Red said. “He was aiming at a target on the fence. Maybe a couple went over, but I seriously doubt there was any danger involved.”
“She told me that the children were running wild, unsupervised. She was concerned for their safety. And that she came over to let you know about it and you refused to get out of bed and ordered her off the front porch.”
Red was hardly in a position to deny that.
“Aunt Phyl felt she had no other choice but to speak to the children herself.”
“Speak to them?” Red was incredulous. “She was screaming at them. She called them ‘menaces and criminals.’”
Cam chuckled.
“You think that’s funny?”
“No, I think it’s Aunt Phyl,” he answered. “The only kid she has ever been around was me. And I definitely fell into the criminal–menace category.”
He got up from his chair and seated himself beside her on the swing. Cam slid his arm across the top of her shoulders and pulled her close, planting a tiny kiss on her temple.
“I’ll talk to Aunt Phyl,” he promised. “I’ll convince her to stay out of sight, or at least out of our backyard.”
“Good.”
“But I need you to promise not to antagonize her,” Cam said. “She loves me and has been good to me. And I’m certain that if she ever got to know you or the kids, she would love you as much as I do.”
Red opened her mouth to dispute that. She knew all about women like Cam’s Aunt Phyl, high-class ladies who were so concerned with their social position and community standing. Red’s mother was like that. And if she couldn’t put her own daughter first, no one else could ever be expected to do so.
None of this came out of Red’s mouth. Instead, she was silenced by the dawning revelation of Cam’s comment. He had just said that he loved her.
To: [email protected]
September 28 7:41 p.m.
From: [email protected]
hiya Mom-ster 2 emails waiting 4 me! That is totally the best. And U are going to be so happy. I know, cause I am. The big news is TA-DAH!!!! I have a best friend. I haven’t had a BFF for like 3 schools or something. An she is SO COOL. Much cooler than Mixon, tho Mixon is way popular. Nayra, my BFF, is smart like me. I met her in music class. We are both taking violin for the 1st time this year. She is changing from piano. I took it cause Cam said that it helps the brain do math. I don’t know how, but Cam always knows what he talks about and he loaned me one of his violins anyway. Nayra and I are IMing or on the phone every night. I talk 2 Kaya 2. But Kaya always says what R U going to wear tomorrow and I don’t care much. Nayra and I talk better stuff. And sometimes we practice together over the phone. I want her to sleepover on Saturday, but Red says that’s her busyest night, so I told her Cam would stay with us if she asked him, but she won’t. POOT!
I wish U were home. U would let me have a sleepover. But SHE won’t.
Daniel is ok too. He likes school and he can read now. Truly. He wasn’t so into Curious George and Babar like I was. So Cam took him to Red Balloon Bookshop its not far from us and told him he could have any books he wanted to read. He chose a bunch of Scooby-Doo with vampires in them. I don’t like scary stuff but Daniel can read them all by himself. Thats pretty good huh. Cam lets us go to the bookstore any time we want and buy whatever we want. He says the library is great but some books you just gotta have forever. He’s right.
I luv U Mom. An I miss U so much. Please come home as soon as U can. Daniel and I are fine. But we want U.
Livy
15
As the weeks went by, Red settled into a new routine that included both the kids and the construction. Daniel turned out to be quite talkative about school and vampires and who’s who in professional wrestling. Olivia became as much a phone diva as an Internet surfer. And the guys from the crew site all wanted coffee the minute she opened and a beer as soon as they clocked out for the day.
Sunday and Monday were nights off for Kelly, the babysitter. Red found that worked just fine. The bar was closed on Sunday, and Monday was the slowest night of the week. Karl actually seemed pleased to be given a chance to run the place on his own.
They visited the children’s abuela almost every week, and she was improving. Her speech was still a huge challenge and Red couldn’t help but admire how patient Olivia and Daniel were as the old woman struggled to get out the words she wanted to say. She was still mostly wheelchair bound, but was making progress in therapy on a walker.
Bridge called as often as she could. Because of the time difference, it was decided that Saturday mornings was the best time to call. Ten o’clock in San Antonio was 8:00 p.m. in Kabul. Bridge tried to make that, but sometimes work or phone availability got in the way. The weekends when no call came were always quiet ones for the kids.
Red hadn’t caught a glimpse of Aunt Phyl since the day of the brooming, but Cam was around all the time. He spent more time with the kids than he did with Red, but it was hard to resent that. Daniel more or less idolized him. The little boy followed at his heels like a puppy. Cam took great care to talk to Daniel about whatever he was doing and to listen to all the silly stories from his day at school.
He spent time with Olivia, as well. Cam tutored her on the violin, and once she decided she could not be separated from her best friend, Nayra, he expanded the one-on-one to include both of them.
Managing to do all this was aided in part by having more time on his hands, though it was not his own choice. The band was suffering through a soap opera that threatened its future.
Brian had gotten one of his groupie/fans pregnant.
“I think that’s what guys your age are supposed to do,” Red told Cam. “Be fruitful and multiply.”
Cam, seated across the bar, rolled his eyes at her. Of course, it was much more complicated. The young woman was only twenty and earning minimum wage at the counter of Whataburger. Although Brian was in his thirties, with a bit of money in the bank, he was still living with his parents. He’d spent the last ten years totally absorbed in the band.
“So what does he want to do?” Red asked.
“I think he wants to marry her,” Cam said.
“That is so totally retro,” she said. “I didn’t think guys like you and Brian ever even considered the ball-and-chain life.”
Cam gave her a long look. “Honestly,” he replied, “I decided back in high school that marriage just wasn’t in the cards for me. But I’m beginning to rethink that.”