by Susan Wiggs
Callie went to bed, but Kate was still restless, reading a seemingly endless variety of material about him. Jealousy burned in her gut as she read that he’d had a girlfriend named Tina, a congressional aide who disclosed everything from his affinity for blue crab to his sexual appetites, and whose dating book became a hot seller. I hope he dropped you fast and hard, Kate thought. And sure enough, just like Callie said, she learned that he’d survived a nightmare childhood with a woman who hadn’t been any sort of mother at all. Janet Harris had embraced the spoils of her son’s fame, but then it had been her downfall. She’d slid back into her old habits and, according to more than one recent report, she had checked into a clinic in Southern California.
Kate’s e-mail flag popped up. The message was from an unfamiliar sender, yet as soon as she saw the photo, she remembered. It felt like a lifetime ago that she and JD had ridden the ferry like any young lovers, posing while a stranger had snapped their picture. Now that she understood what he’d been hiding, she recognized the tension in his face, his discomfort in front of the camera.
“It was a privilege to meet you and Jordan,” the woman had written.
True, thought Kate. It was. Before she met JD, she thought she knew what loneliness felt like. Now she realized she hadn’t a clue.
Thirty-Five
At 5:45 a.m., the phone began to shrill in Kate’s ear. Spoiled by the low-tech solitude of the lake, she practically fell out of bed as she reached for the receiver, bidding goodbye to a perfectly good dream.
“Sorry to wake you,” said her sister-in-law, Barbara, calling from the East Coast. “I thought you might want to know that you’re on Good Morning America.”
Kate sat straight up in bed, the last vestiges of sleep doused by mortification. “What?”
“GMA. I’m sure it’ll air out there, too. Go find a TV and check it out.”
“What on earth—”
“So is he there now?”
“Is who…” Finally Kate’s head cleared. “You mean JD.”
“Is that what you call him? God, Kate, how long have you been together?”
Not long enough. “Tell me what you saw.”
“First, it was all about the guy—Sergeant Harris. There was a clip from Seattle showing him doing CPR. Then some stuff about how he disappeared from the public eye for a few months. Tabloids said he was taping a reality show. That he’s the next ‘Bachelor’ and you’re the one he picked.”
The thought of a TV bachelor show made Kate shudder. “He was at the lake,” she explained. “He was using the Schroeders’ cabin.”
“Incredible. Kate, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
I can’t believe he didn’t tell me. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she’d been duped by him. It was no family secret that she was unlucky in love, but this went beyond unlucky. This just made her look…dense.
In the background, sounds of Barbara’s family could be heard—running feet, children’s voices, laughter. Barbara covered the receiver to tell them to pipe down. With four kids, an uninterrupted phone conversation simply didn’t happen.
“So on the news, they showed him getting in the car with you,” Barbara said. “How cool is that?”
“Must be a slow news day.” Kate shoved her feet into a pair of scuffs and put on her terry-cloth robe, which had seen better days but was still comfortable. She gave Barb the briefest, simplest version of events she could summon before having her first cup of coffee. As she spoke, she shuffled downstairs and put on the pot.
“So what’s he like?”
Gone, Kate thought. That’s what he’s like. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get that out without falling apart. “Quiet,” she said, sifting through memories of him. From the first moment she laid eyes on him, he had shown her exactly who he was. She just hadn’t picked up on it. He was a rescuer, whether that meant bailing a stranger out at the grocery store, befriending a troubled little boy, making love to a lonely woman or saving someone’s life. At least he hadn’t been able to hide his authentic self completely. But he’d hidden enough to fool her.
That, of course, was the operative word—fool. He’d made a fool of her.
And oh, she had loved every minute of it.
“Nitwit,” she muttered.
“What’s that?” Barb asked.
“Nothing,” said Kate. She’d practically forgotten she was still on the phone. “Just thinking aloud.”
“Well, I can’t wait to meet him,” Barb declared. “He just seems too good to be true.”
“Oh, he is that.” It was too early in the morning to explain the whole summer. She felt raw and confused, far from ready to discuss this with anyone. “Listen, do you suppose I could call you back later?”
After they said goodbye, Kate busied herself with mundane things—putting away the dishes, filling the dog’s bowl with fresh water, taking out last night’s trash. She tried to focus on getting things done today—making the final arrangements for Callie, getting her registered for school and driver’s ed. The end of summer was closing in fast. After that, all that remained was to return to the lakeside cottage and close it up for the season.
Later, Aaron and Bandit came downstairs to troll for breakfast. “Morning,” he mumbled. He seemed pale to her, and subdued. He looked like the shy, unhappy boy he’d been at the beginning of summer.
“Hey, kiddo,” she said, holding the bag of trash. “Get that door for me, will you?”
Aaron pushed open the back door. Bandit shot out first. Though not usually a noisy dog, the beagle immediately started barking.
“Hush, Bandit, you’ll wake the neighbors,” Kate said, stepping out to the driveway, where the trash cans were kept.
A flash went off in her face. Something—a microphone—jabbed at her and a chorus of questions filled the air, the words running together like a chant in a foreign language. Miss Livingston or is it Mrs. are you married is that Sergeant Harris’s love child how long have you known him did he really leave the service we just have a few questions….
Kate dropped the sack of garbage. Wet coffee grinds and eggshells sprayed across the asphalt. She clutched Aaron’s hand and they froze, pinned by terror like Bambi and his mom in the crosshairs. In a blur of panic, she called desperately for the dog. The flashing cameras recorded her open mouth, her uncombed hair, the frayed bathrobe.
A reporter with big shoulders and a tape recorder broke free of the pack. “Give us a break, hon. This is our living here,” he said.
“You’ve made a big mistake,” she managed to say. “There’s no story here. There’s nothing at all.”
“Bullshit,” the guy said. “Everybody’s got a story.”
She winced at his language, moved closer to Aaron. “Maybe. But mine’s not anything people would want to read. Go away. Go hunt down an actual celebrity and let me get back to my life.” Fortunately, Bandit returned on command. She ducked inside, yanking Aaron along with her. After she slammed the door shut, she leaned against it, breathing hard.
“Are you all right?” she asked Aaron.
“Are you kidding?” He grinned and went to peer out the window. “That was awesome.”
Kate looked at the phone on the table and contemplated calling 911. Ultimately, though, she simply closed all the drapes and made Aaron stay inside until it was time for their meeting at CPS to submit the final papers for Callie and register her at school. Kate was jumpy, taking a circuitous route on their errands and glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds to see if they were being followed.
The early-morning ambush in front of her house had been but a taste of what JD had endured for months, she realized. It explained why he had left his life in Washington, D.C., fleeing to escape the public eye. However, it did not explain why he had left her.
“Mom, where’s wedlock?” Aaron asked.
“Why do you ask?” She felt distracted. It had been a long week. JD hadn’t called. Her heart was on the floor and her life was in turmoil
.
“Well, it says in Star Tracks that you had me out of there.” He turned the paper toward her. “Right here. It says, ‘Katherine Livingston had a baby out of wedlock…’ Does that mean you were locked out of a wedding or something?”
“Give me that.” She snatched the paper from him and put it in the trash. “Don’t pay attention to any of that stuff,” she said.
She was sick to her stomach. This had gotten out of hand and she had no control over it. What a terrible, terrible object lesson, she thought. She had always imagined what it was like to be the reporter chasing the story—exhilarating, sometimes even important. As a fashion writer for a minor paper, she had dreamed of it, aspired to it. Now she knew the vile feeling of seeing herself in a ratty bathrobe in the newspaper’s gossip section, clutching the hand of her bewildered-looking son.
Strangers contacted her by phone, by e-mail, by showing up at her house. Most were harmless curiosity seekers, but a few genuinely creeped her out, like the guy asking her to give him a pair of panties. Reporters dug up dirt on her—she’d had a baby out of wedlock. Her grandfather was a sixties radical and she’d been fired from her last job.
Perhaps worst of all was the phone call from Callie’s caseworker. An Internet blog speculated that Callie was on drugs, just like Harris’s mother. Kate was outraged, but worse than that, powerless. She realized that if she engaged in the debate, people would assume she took the charges seriously. If she ignored them, some would say it was because the charges were true. There were e-mails from her editor, wanting the inside scoop. Kate was ready to tear out her hair. One day, a call came in from Callie’s caseworker. She had concerns about placing Callie in Kate’s care. She wasn’t sure all this media attention would be good for Callie.
“It’s not good for anyone,” Kate agreed. JD’s words came back to haunt her: I never wanted any of this, and I promise you, Kate, you don’t want it, either.
And in the end, she did exactly what he had done. Chased by a notoriety she did not want, she fled to the lake.
PART FIVE
“The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly.”
—Buddha
Thirty-Six
“Last chance to go for a swim,” Callie told Aaron. Their final chores at the lakeside cottage were done, pretty much. Kate had gone to town to reroute the mail and do some errands. It meant the world to Callie that Kate trusted her to watch Aaron. At the beginning of summer, she hadn’t wanted them to go near the water without her watching. Now that Aaron could swim and Callie was part of the family, Kate had relaxed her vigilance. She treated Callie like…a daughter.
Callie and Aaron had worked hard all afternoon. They had hosed down the kayak and stowed it in the boathouse along with the lawn furniture and picnic set. After a championship round of croquet—Callie won, hands down—they put away the equipment for next year. They brought in the flag and folded it like a holy relic, putting it in an ancient department-store box. It was so cool that Kate and Aaron belonged to a family that came back here year after year, Callie thought. The flag was so old, it had only forty-eight stars.
They cleared out every scrap of food so the local raccoons and field mice would not be tempted to break in. Now there was nothing left to do except wait for Kate to bring home their farewell dinner in disposable containers. In the morning, they’d turn off the water to drain the pipes so they wouldn’t freeze in winter, and then they were out of here.
Callie couldn’t help smiling at Aaron’s tragic expression. “Hey, it’s not the end of the world, kid. Just the end of summer.” She didn’t try to explain further, and honestly, felt none of his despondency. She was not one of those to get all sentimental over the passing of the season. In fact, she was looking forward to the start of school. Not that she would ever be dorky enough to admit it. It just felt so good to be doing things a normal kid would do—cleaning her room, listening to music, getting ready for the first day of school. When Kate promised to take her school shopping once they got to the city, Callie felt such a thrill that she had to hide her reaction.
“I’m staying up all night,” Aaron vowed.
“Whatever floats your boat.” She knew he would never be able to do it. After swimming, supper and a few rounds of cards, he’d be falling asleep on his feet. That was something she loved about Aaron. He was totally predictable, like a little machine—eat, play, talk, sleep in a never-ending cycle.
“Race you to the water!” Still tying the drawstring of his trunks, Aaron ran across the yard to the dock.
Callie took off after him, reveling in her newfound feeling of agility. Thirty pounds ago, she barely had enough energy to walk, let alone run. She wore a black tankini and she looked…okay. Kelly Osbourne–okay, maybe.
She caught up with Aaron and grabbed his hand just as they both went off the end of the dock. Together, they made a huge splash and came up laughing. As always, the water was numbingly cold, yet at the same time, gloriously clean. She felt weightless and sleek, darting around with Aaron, occasionally diving deep to see if she could reach the bottom. She never could, of course. The lake’s dark, endless depth was part of its mystery.
Popping to the surface, she kept an eye on Aaron, even though he needed supervision less and less each time he swam. Once he got over being afraid of the water, he grew stronger every day.
“What are you looking at?” he asked her.
“A kid who swims like an otter.” Treading water, she relished the expression on his face. Then she told him something she had never said before, though she had thought it. “I’m proud of you.”
“Hey, me, too,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”
They grinned at each other for a few seconds and then it got all awkward, so she splashed water in his face and he dived for cover. Inevitably, they were overcome by the cold and had to get out. Bandit greeted them like long-lost friends while they toweled off and then lay around on the weathered planks of the dock, letting the sun dry their hair.
After a while, Aaron said, “I feel bad for Mom. She’s sad about JD.”
“Seems that way,” Callie said. “She’ll be all right.”
“I guess I’m kind of sad, too.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be human if you weren’t sad sometimes, so welcome to the human race.”
She enjoyed the feel of the sunlight on her face. What a summer it had been. Begun in despair, it was ending on a note of hope. She had a foster family, a plan for the future. The painful past would always be there, like her insulin resistance would always be there. She could deal with both now, she was sure of it.
A few minutes later, she was startled by the creak of a footfall on the dock and the coolness of a shadow falling over her. She sat up to look, and blinked at the light. Like a bulky, man-shaped eclipse, Luke Newman blotted out the sun as he stood there surrounded by a halo of dazzling light.
“Luke.” Aaron scrambled to his feet. “Hey, Luke. Where’ve you been?”
“Keeping busy.”
Instantly self-conscious, Callie got up, too. She was tempted to wrap herself in a towel, but resisted the urge. She was who she was, and didn’t intend to hide that from him ever again. “Hey,” she said, her voice perfectly neutral.
“Hey, yourself.”
“I’m starving,” Aaron said with startling diplomacy. “I’ll be inside. C’mon, Bandit.”
After he left, a strained silence stretched out between Luke and Callie. Finally, he said, “You look good.”
She knew that she did. His eyes were a mirror, reflecting an image that was quite different from the girl he’d first met this summer. “I feel good.”
More silence, but the question screamed inside her. What do you want from me? What are you doing back here now?
“That’s good,” he said. “Listen, Callie…” He paused and looked at her as if expecting her to rescue him.
&nbs
p; Let him wait, she thought. She was not going to step in and make this easy for him. “Yeah?”
“I want you to know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did. Okay?”
Even though her heart soared, she made herself hold back. “No. It’s not okay. You acted as though we were friends—good friends—but you kept that a secret from everybody but me.” She still cringed when she thought about that day at the shopping center. She’d been so happy to see him, so excited about meeting his friends. She could still feel the icy derision of the other kids, the terrible twist of sarcasm when he’d dismissed her. Finding out he’d kept their friendship a secret had knocked her for a loop. He was ashamed to be seen with a fat weirdo.
“That’s my loss,” he said now, “and I’ve got no excuse except I was an ass. You’re special, and you always have been. I feel like an asshole for treating you the way I did.”
“You were an asshole.” She picked up her towel, started to turn away.
“Just hear me out.” He put his hand on hers, brought her back around to face him. “I miss you.”
His words wrapped around her heart the same way his hand wrapped around hers. “You really mean it?”
“I came to ask you if you want to go bowling tonight. Some of us are meeting at Bowl Me Over later. Can you come?”
Finally, after a whole summer of waiting, he was offering to introduce her to a group of friends. But when she spoke, she said, “I’m going to stick around here tonight. We’re leaving in the morning.”
He paused, digested the news. She saw a flicker of disappointment in his face. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” She couldn’t keep from smiling when she added, “I’m going to live with Kate in Seattle.”
“You look happy about that.”
“I am happy.” It felt so weird to be saying that. It felt so weird that, for the first time in forever, it was true.
“I’ve got news, too,” Luke said. “I signed up for the Coast Guard.”