All That You Are

by Stef Ann Holm

  “Terran’s not allowed to play with matches.”

  “Neither was I.”

  With a slightly disgruntled tug, Dana took the lumpy plastic grocery bag from Cooper’s grasp. “What’s in here?”

  “I had to buy him some new tennis shoes. His old ones are shot. They’re in the bag.”

  “Thanks.”

  She and Cooper didn’t have a limited amount they spent on Terran each week. No game playing with checkbooks and crying broke. Both of them were pretty good about buying him what he needed if he needed it, and the expenses seemed to balance out.

  Neither of them paid the other financial support for their son, but Cooper was responsible enough to carry medical insurance that covered Terran’s doctor and dental visits. They’d had to use the E.R. once when Terran, wet and horsing around, slipped in the bathtub. His top teeth had cut into his lower lip, requiring stitches inside his mouth. Dana didn’t know how much that bill had totaled, but she assumed it would have been significant even after the deductible. Cooper had never asked her to pay half the cost.

  Terran climbed the cement steps by the gate and pointed the Taser at the newel posts, with gusto-filled sound effects. His red Kung Fu Panda T-shirt had a dark stain down the front—possibly grape jelly or cola and whipping cream. Beneath the hems of faded-in-the-knees blue jeans, he displayed black-and-lime sneakers with spanking new rubber soles.

  “So who was that guy?” Cooper asked with a snort, closing the Jeep’s tailgate after shoving Riley’s face back in. The dog gave a short and deep-chested bark.

  Thankfully Terran’s preoccupation with the security vest and gun had kept him from mentioning his desire for a dog of his own.

  “What guy?” Dana replied, having a good hunch she knew just what Cooper was talking about.

  “That guy you brought to Terran’s hockey practice.”

  “Oh, him.” Dana feigned a casualness in her tone she didn’t necessarily feel. Her cheeks heated in remembrance of the other night on Mark’s sofa and she did her best not to clue Cooper in on her thoughts. “He works for me.”

  “Bartender?”

  Cooper never came into the Blue Note. He wasn’t a party-boy drinker and, even if he had been, he wouldn’t have set foot into her bar. He would have gone to the Arctic where he could play pool.

  All Dana offered was, “He’s doing some remodel work for me.”

  “I just wondered if you were dating him.”

  “Would it matter, Cooper?”

  “Momma, I’m going to go get Grandma with my Taser.”

  “Go ahead, baby. She’s in the kitchen waiting for you with milk and carrot sticks.”

  “Barf,” Terran muttered with a gagging expression. Then he dug into his pocket for foil-wrapped candy kisses.

  When he’d climbed all the steps and had gone inside, Dana confronted Cooper. “I wish you wouldn’t give him candy, Cooper. I’m trying to keep him off too much sugar.”

  “He’s a kid. He can have candy.”

  All but snapping, she tossed back, “But you won’t have to deal with him tonight when he’s hyper and can’t fall asleep.”

  “He doesn’t have any problems at my house.”

  Cooper slid aviator sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re such a control freak. Everything has to be your way or no way at all. Jeez, Dana. Lighten up. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Then he slipped into the Jeep and drove away.

  Dana watched his vehicle disappear, rattling off a few choice swear words in her head. Cooper could really piss her off.

  The rest of that Sunday evening, Dana dumped Terran’s dirty clothes in the washer, took his belongings to his room and sorted through the variety of odd things he’d brought home. Then her mom called for dinner and they visited with him at the table.

  Suni busied herself at the kitchen counter, spooning rice from the cooker into a bowl. Often, they ate Chinese food. Suni was an excellent cook and knew just how to spice things while not making the food so hot you couldn’t eat it.

  When they were seated at the small table, they discussed the week ahead, what they would do together, and how many more days until school started.

  The scene was intimate and warm, with laughter and fun talk, something Dana relished and looked forward to. The nights she worked at the Blue Note, she missed this terribly.

  After dinner cleanup, she took Terran upstairs and ran the bath for him. He sank into the water, surrounded by tub toys, making splashing sounds for battleships, then painted bath paint on the walls and on his chest. She rinsed and dried him off, cuddling him in the towel and soaking in his clean boy scent.

  Pressing her face against the silky softness in the curve of his damp neck, she smiled, holding her breath and thinking she was so lucky.

  “Mommy, I’m giving you a bigger hug,” Terran said, then she lost her balance as he thrust his weight at her.

  They fell backward on the floor, onto the wet throw rug and tiles. She held him tightly so he couldn’t squiggle away. But he didn’t attempt to. He wrapped his tiny arms around her neck and nestled in, staying close.

  Dana lay there, arms around her son, staring at the ceiling light. Terran played with her hair, twirling it in his fingers as he had done when he was an infant as he’d nursed. With a soft caress, she ran her hand down his back, feeling his spine and listening to him breathe.

  No words were spoken.

  She didn’t want the moment to pass because as he approached five, and kindergarten, he could very well grow up in a little boy way and mommies wouldn’t be cool anymore to hug and hold on to.

  She loved him beyond description, and the sweet joy he gave her was as pure as anything she could ever imagine.

  Terran tired of her lock hold and wiggled away, leaving cool air to snatch away his warm body heat that had blanketed her. In his room, she helped him get into his blue jammies, then he crawled into bed. He lay there with stuffed animals surrounding him, blankets and pillows tucked in just how he liked them.

  As she sat on his bed, the night-light giving off a tiny glow, she fondled his hair, smoothing it off his forehead.

  “Hey, Momma?” he asked, his face serious.

  “What?”

  Cuddling his teddy bear, he questioned, “Can we have a sleepover at Dad’s?”

  Momentarily thrown off-kilter, Dana said, “No, Terran. That won’t be possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Mom and Dad don’t live together.”

  “How come?”

  “Because we each have our own houses and that’s just how it is.”

  Terran’s eyes held hers, and with the somberness too mature for a boy his age, he uttered, “That’s not fair.”

  Her heart broke and she wished that what he said wasn’t true. But his situation wasn’t fair, and she ached for him. Guilt was a heavy burden on her shoulders, but there was nothing she could do. This was the way things were.

  “I’m sorry,” was all she could offer.

  Terran rubbed the underside of his nose, then mumbled in a disgruntled tone, “How come Daddy can have a sleepover? Tori spends the night.”

  That startling news prickled every sense within Dana and she felt her pulse pump in a rapid surge. “Tori?”

  “The lady who said hi to me at Burger Queen.”

  “Tori sleeps over?”

  “Uh-huh. So I think you should, too. With me and Dad. And then we can all have a happy sleepover.” Stifling a yawn, he added in a muffled voice, “Can you make me pancakes tomorrow?”

  A FINE DRIZZLE HIT the windshield like a million gnats steadily coming at Mark. The intermittent wipers barely cleaned the glass then it was sprayed once more.

  His mind drew upon an absent thought: this weather could drive someone nuts living in it day in and day out.

  As he headed for the building supply store, his cell rang.

  “Moretti,” he answered.

  “Mark, it’s your brother Robert.”

&nbs
p; “Robert, hey, how’s it going?”

  Genuinely glad to hear from his brother, the call pulled Mark back to Boise, another time and another place, where he had roots and a home. While deep into the Blue Note’s renovation, he didn’t think about responsibilities in Idaho.

  Robert’s phone call gave him a quick reality check.

  “Things are great down here.”

  “You staying busy?” Mark responded, clicking on the truck’s blinker to pull into Talbot’s parking lot.

  “This economy stinks, but I’m doing a pretty good business. In fact, I can’t complain. I’ve had steady customers every night. Another restaurant closed in Boise and it’s not looking good for a friend of mine.”

  “Yeah, you kind of forget about things like that up here. It’s a lot different, like you’re in a time warp or something.”

  “So how’s the remodel coming along?”

  “Great.” Robert knew about his work on the Blue Note. He’d mentioned it to their sister. “While I’m waiting for my steel sections to get here, we’re installing a platform tomorrow at the fire evac access. I’ve got some welders lined up. I may even throw a hood on myself and do some joint work.”

  “Just like you did on the Grove.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  And that was the truth of the matter. Mark enjoyed building things, and more important, he’d realized he liked doing smaller projects like this one. The return was faster, and he could see the changes take place sooner versus later. So far, the place was really shaping up and he was happy with how things had been going. Of course once he was finished, he’d have nothing left to do but head home.

  That prospect left him flat.

  “How’s everybody else?” Mark asked. “Franci okay? Mom?”

  “They’re good. Mom says you don’t call enough.”

  “She would say that.”

  “Yeah, she mentioned she’s e-mailing some lady you know in town. I forget her name.”

  Mark turned off the truck’s engine and sat in the building supply’s parking lot, a fine rain covering the windshield. When he’d given Suni his mom’s e-mail, he hadn’t been certain she’d contact Mariangela. He’d pretty much forgotten about it. “That’d be Suni Jackson, Dana’s mom.”

  “Dana?”

  “She owns the bar I’m fixing up. She lives with her mother, whose name is Suni. She’s a widow, too. I figured her and Mom would have stuff in common.”

  Robert paused a second before replying. “So how pretty is this Dana?”

  He inhaled a deep breath, then let it out. His hands rested on the steering wheel. Robert knew him well enough to wonder about his motives. In the past, Mark would have been out to win the woman and collect her luscious gratitude with open arms, but that wasn’t the case this time. Dana was different. He was different around her.

  “It’s not like that, Robert.”

  “So how is it, then?”

  Being with Dana pulled strongly at him. He was attached emotionally, drawn to her like no other woman in his dating history. But they weren’t dating, and she had her own set of problems with a life that was complicated enough without him in it.

  If he fell in love with her, he’d mess up the tight world she’d created for herself and her son. Mark wasn’t even sure if he knew what real love was. He did know that he loved being with her, and these last couple of months had been more relaxing for him than any he could remember in recent years.

  In the rugged Alaskan beauty, everything seemed surreal.

  The air was like taking a bite out of an apple, crisp and sweet. The water was frigid and certain mountain ranges were always capped with snow. Never had he seen a richer green than that on the trees that cloistered around Ketchikan.

  Being here had helped him see some things about himself, and he liked who he was. Working on the Blue Note took him out of himself. For the first time in years, he was the one driving to the hardware store, the building supply house. He’d bought pizzas for lunch, brought in coffee and doughnuts in the wee hours when they stayed late. He knew all the guys on a first-name basis—something that had been impossible on the Grove Marketplace.

  He’d inadvertently stumbled into discovering who he wanted to be and he was grateful for the opportunity. Dana didn’t understand just how much she’d helped him, how much he’d needed to do this for her.

  With an evasive answer, Mark said, “I saw an opportunity to do something, and I figured out that my effort is benefiting me a hell of a lot more than it is her.”

  “Does she think that?”

  “I don’t know, Robert.” And that was the truth. Trying to get a handle on what Dana’s thoughts were was about as easy as shoving a refrigerator uphill.

  “Just don’t get too cozy,” Robert suggested. “Your nieces have been asking when their uncle Mark is coming back.”

  “It’s hard to get cozy here when it rains every day.” He gave the lumberman, who hopped off the seat of a wet forklift, a wave of recognition that was returned with a smile. “So what’s the weather like back in Boise?”

  “Hot. Mid-eighties. Blue skies. It’s perfect here.”

  “Cruel.” Mark laughed.

  He glanced through the mottled windshield. A wet fog hung low in the sky and visibility was poor, and he could just make out the gray outlines of lacy spruce trees through the mist.

  “So I need a favor, favorite brother.”

  “That’s a line of bunk,” Mark said with a smile. “John’s your favorite brother.” Their oldest brother was an attorney and always had a logical response when asked about his opinion.

  “Well, you’re my favorite right now.” Robert laughed into the phone. “I was wondering if you can ship me any more of that fish? It went over so great at Pomodoro, I’ve had requests.”

  Pomodoro was Robert’s restaurant in downtown Boise.

  Mark absently flicked the wipers so he could see the channel and watch a gigantic cruise ship as it slowly progressed north.

  “Sure, I can do that. What kind do you want?”

  “Anything that you’ve got that’s fresh caught. I’ll pay you for the overnight shipping.”

  “No need. I got it covered.”

  “Thanks, Mark. We miss you, you know.”

  “Yeah.” Mark felt the stubble on his neck, and suddenly home seemed the miles away it was. “I miss you guys, too.”

  CARL “BEANS” PINTO WAS A regular at the Blue Note. Regular in that he regularly got escorted off the premises after being cut off at the bar. His regular drink was a White Russian. After two drinks, his standard remark was, “Run a tab for me, Leo.” Regularly, Leo closed out the check after the fourth White Russian.

  Beans wasn’t a big man—average size in height and stature—so how he managed to stay coherent after four strong liquor bombs was anyone’s guess.

  The reason Dana let him sit at the bar was because, as odd as it sounded, he drank responsibly. He never drove himself to the Blue Note. He always had a cab drop him off and pick him up.

  Still, that didn’t eliminate the regular disruption Beans seemed to cause after Leo cautioned him he was ordering his final drink of the evening.

  “You know what, Dana?” Beans asked, his words running into one big connection of syllables.

  “What’s that, Beans?” she returned, filing a receipt in the cash register behind the bar.

  “I drink so much, my blood type is AA.”

  Closing the cash register drawer, Dana faced him with a shake of her head. “Maybe you ought to try an AA meeting.”

  Dana rarely, if ever, gave advice like this, but Beans had been coming into the Blue Note for years, even back when her father ran the bar. It wasn’t uncommon for patrons to have drinking problems, and she usually let things slide, as it wasn’t her business to tell them what to do. On occasions when commotions started—which weren’t often—it simply took a call to police dispatch for help. Thankfully, those evenings were few and far between.

  The Blue N
ote had a reputation for being a class joint.

  “AA is a twelve-step program for wussies.” Beans sneered with a pinched face. “I could stop drinking if I wanted to.” He lifted the glass to his mouth. “But I don’t want to.”

  Dana motioned to Leo, a silent signal and nod that Beans would now be cut off. Then it would be time to call the taxi for him.

  “You know what, Miss Dana?” Beans said in a very loud voice as she began to walk away. “You’re a lot prettier than Candy, Miss Racktober with the big hooters over at that other bar. Beauty is in the face, not in the chest and I think you’re love-r-ly.”

  “Thanks, Beans.” Dana gave him a bemused smile. Only he’d know how to give a thumbs-up that included hooters belonging to a different woman.

  Making eye contact with Leo once more, Dana left the bar and headed for the kitchen to check on Presley.

  “What’s going on out there?” Presley asked, plating an order. “Is that Beans shouting?”

  With a grimace, Dana replied, “You know how that fish-brain gets when he’s buzzed. He thinks people can’t hear him unless he yells.”

  “Gotcha.”

  As Dana helped Presley collect some plates from the stainless rack above the long counter, she mentioned, “By the way, I bought the wrong pads for the ladies’ room. I meant to get the regulars, but I ended up with extra long.”

  “Good Lord, they’ll be like wearing the Titanic with wings.”

  Biting back a smile, Dana didn’t respond. She’d been distracted today. All day, her mind had been drifting to tomorrow night.

  Mark was taking her and Terran out. He’d told her to pick out a fun restaurant that Terran would enjoy. That had been easy. She’d suggested pizza at Oceanview, a favorite eatery for her son. Terran had hockey practice at seven, and Mark said he’d be at her house at five.

  Just the thought of him coming over and picking up her and her son to take them…out…Dana warded off shivers. The whole concept really rattled her. Terran had never gone out with her and a guy. She hadn’t gone out with a guy in ages.

  “I’m going to be in my office if you need me,” Dana said, then left Presley to her orders.