by Fredrick, MJ
“Is he always last in line?”
“Sometimes he dawdles, but not always. He doesn’t particularly care for PE.”
Leo thought of his reluctance to tossing the ball last night. “Yeah, not really a sports fan. Sorry about the homework last night. I’d bought him a glove and ball last night and we were tossing it around until dark. I completely forgot he had homework, then forgot to send the note.”
“He’s always very good about doing his homework, so it was a surprise. My policy is to put students who don’t complete their homework to stand on the wall at recess. They’re not allowed to play.”
His shoulders stiffened. “No exceptions?” He leaned forward, his arms on the desk. “I’m trying to—I don’t know, find common ground with the kid. Surely that’s more important than him writing his spelling words ten times each or whatever. I mean, he’s a smart kid, right?” It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know what kinds of grades Max was getting.
“He’s very bright but doesn’t apply himself. I have to struggle to get work turned in for him, and when I do, it’s sloppy and dashed off. He has no sense of pride in his work.”
Leo nodded. “What about friends? Doesn’t he have friends here? He’s been here two months.” Something else he should know.
Mrs. Boller shook her head. “He keeps to himself. Miss Madison has been working with him on socialization skills, which I presume he had before, but now he prefers to shut himself off from the rest. That more than anything is why I wanted to have a conference with you. I wanted to get a feeling for what he was like before his mother died.”
“He was seven, Mrs. Boller. He wasn’t really like anything.”
A furrow creased her brow, and he got the feeling it was directed at his assessment of his child. “Was he different, or was he always so withdrawn? I’m wondering how much is personality and how much is grief.”
Leo eased back in the hard chair. “He was a kid. He liked riding bikes and watching cartoons and he laughed a lot, you know, that silly kid laugh. He was very close to his mom. The only reason he wasn’t in the car with her that day was because he was at school.” Until late, because Liv was dead and Leo was overseas and no one at the school was able to reach anyone on the emergency card. “She was a great mom.” And he would never measure up.
“I can’t imagine what it has been like for either of you.” Her voice was soft with sympathy and her blue eyes filled with tears. “I just want to help him. He’s so—distant. He barely talks, he doesn’t interact with me. I feel like I’m losing him and I’m running out of time.”
He appreciated her sympathy but it was his job to reach his son, not hers. But like her, he felt like he was running out of time.
He left the conference twenty minutes later not sure they’d made any progress. He didn’t have anything to offer her, and she didn’t seem to have any answers. Great. More stumbling, though he had managed to get Max off the wall at recess with the promise that they’d make up the homework tonight.
Two nights of homework with Max meant a game of catch was unlikely.
He’d hoped he’d see Trinity again before he left, but he wouldn’t go searching for her. This attraction he felt for her wasn’t right. It wasn’t about his grief for Liv, really. She’d been gone almost two years. But he needed to focus on Max, on making him a priority, making him feel secure. Making him happy.
He glanced at his phone to see what time it was and his stomach knotted. Four missed calls from his editor. He already knew what they were about. John Seeley wanted to know when he’d be back on the job. To hell with the fact that Leo had discussed—but not actually taken—taking a sabbatical. And since Leo wasn’t certain he was ready for an extended break from the job that had occupied so many of the thoughts he didn’t want to deal with, he tucked his phone back in his pocket.
He thought about stopping at Quinn’s again, but he’d had enough of being judged. Instead he drove by the old ball field. It was in as bad of disrepair as the jogging trail. He parked the SUV and got out to look around. Faded sponsor signs hung askew, the diamond itself was cracked and pitted. He wondered when the last time a game was played there. He used to play here every weekend, had thrown more than one fastball over this plate. Even now he could feel the ball in his hand.
He curled his fingers through the chain-link fence. He needed to find something to do with his time while Max was in school. Maybe he should do what Trinity said, head over to the newspaper and see if there were any entries on the town slogan contest. He wondered how welcome his offer of help would be.
Nonetheless, he walked from the diamond to Bluestone Avenue, where the newspaper office was located. He stepped into the cool, dark building and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light. When they did, he saw a young woman sitting at a massive desk behind a pile of papers.
“Hey. I’m Leo Erickson.” He stretched a hand out to her. “I’m looking for a job.”
Chapter Four
Trinity hated the weekends. She loved her job, loved the community of Bluestone, but sometimes wondered at her decision to come back here after—-after. Her mother, who used to be so energetic and in the middle of things, had suffered the double-whammy of Trinity’s mistake and her husband’s sudden illness. She hadn’t been the same since. Trinity’s father’s illness had consumed their lives. When he was hospitalized, he’d run up some serious bills, since Methodist ministers didn’t get the best health insurance and that added to her mother’s stress. Trinity missed the weekends they used to have—a little bit of cleaning, a lot of socializing, in the house and out. Her mother had been vivacious. Now she just seemed beaten down.
Trinity sometimes wondered if it would be better for her family if she just resigned, move back to the city, and went back into the classroom. Maybe meet someone and start a family. Maybe distance would help them forget their disappointment in her.
But she was determined to help her family pay off her father’s medical bills, with that whopping public school salary.
The desire to move forward had been in the back of her mind for a few years, but opportunities to find true love in Bluestone were few, especially for the reverend’s sister. She had been just fine with that, until Leo Erickson had come into town.
Something about the lonely, clueless father struck a chord in her, a need to heal, to fix. Ironic since she was hardly fixed herself.
She wished Bluestone had a place to go on the weekends besides Quinn’s. She remembered as a teenager there would be events in the park once the weather warmed up, when the days grew longer, but recently, no one took the initiative to organize that kind of thing. Maybe she should. Events like that would build community. Something like that would keep people’s spirits up through the hard times.
And it would get her out of the house on weekends.
She could talk to Lily about it. Lily had to remember what kinds of events they’d had, would maybe even have some contacts. And maybe she could recruit Leo’s help. He seemed at a loss.
No, this wasn’t just an excuse to spend time with him.
But the idea cheered her as she drove home to a cheerless house.
Her mother had started dinner. She liked to eat at six on the dot, so Trinity made a point of staying at work until the last minute. When she’d first moved home, she’d tried to help in the kitchen, but the constant criticism was too much. So she made the deal that she’d clean up if her mother cooked.
Some day she’d have enough saved to buy her own house, would be decisive enough to know if she wanted to live here, or go back to the city. She just wanted this place to be the same as she remembered, the place that had been peaceful when she was a child, before she’d disappointed her family.
“Dinner is almost ready,” her mother chided when she walked in. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry. A lot of paperwork for the testing next month.” She set her purse on the counter, and moved it as soon as her mother gave it a look. “Remember when we use
d to have those movies down on the lakefront on Saturday nights? Everyone would bring a picnic dinner? Why did that ever stop?”
Her mother shrugged. “People got DVD players. We had a video rental store. Everyone could stay home and watch movies in comfort.”
“But that wasn’t the point. The point was to be with our neighbors and socialize. I think the economy isn’t the only thing hurting this town. I think it needs more events like that, don’t you? And the softball team, remember that? They would play on Saturday afternoons.”
Her mother set down the frying pan and looked at her. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking things need to change. And I’m wondering where to start.” And maybe if things changed, her mother would change, too. “Who used to organize it?”
“Don’t you think you have enough on your plate? Your job jeeps you plenty busy.”
“Sure, but those are some of my favorite memories. I thought my students would love it, too.” Wow, she’d pulled that reason out of the air.
Her mother considered her a moment longer. “Maybe they would. Lily’s mom was one of the organizers. Not sure who else. Lily would know.”
“Would you mind if I go to talk to her after dinner?”
“Why such a hurry? This is something you just started thinking about. Maybe you should wait to see if it’s something you want to get involved in.”
“I’m sure I do. And I want to jump in while I’m excited about it. Besides, if we want to do it for the summer, we need to get started soon, right?”
***
Being a dad was hard enough, but once Max was in bed, Leo didn’t know how to settle down. His parents were in front of the television, but Leo was too restless.
“I think I’ll go down to Quinn’s for a beer,” he heard himself saying, not knowing just where to go. Was Quinn’s the only place in town?
“There’s beer in the fridge,” his father said, twisting in his arm chair to point in the direction of the kitchen.
“Yeah, I know, but I’m not ready just yet to call it a night.”
“Max and I are going fishing at dawn,” his father said. “You want to go?”
“You bet,” he said automatically, though he’d never enjoyed the activity. But Max did, and he wanted to be with Max.
“Then don’t be out too late.”
“And don’t drink and drive,” his mother chimed in.
He wasn’t a big drinker, but if his mother was concerned, he’d appease her. “I’ll walk, if that will make you feel better.”
“It will.”
He bounced his keys in his palm, then tucked them into his pocket. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“That late?” his mother asked.
He tried to mask his sigh. His parents were usually in bed by ten, and it was almost nine now. He tried for patience—he hadn’t lived at home since high school, hadn’t worried about a curfew and he wasn’t going to start now. “Probably. Good night.”
“I’ll leave the light on for you,” she said grudgingly.
“Thanks.” He headed out the door, sucking in the freedom on the crisp air. If he stayed, he and Max needed to find their own place, soon, or he’d lose his mind. But that would hurt his mother’s feelings, and he wouldn’t be able to leave Max sleeping to go out for a beer.
He found a few cars parked in Quinn’s lot, and the music pouring through the open door gave the feeling that the place was packed, but when he walked in, only about fifteen people were there. One was Lily, and one was Trinity, and they had their heads together over something. He approached Quinn mid-bar and ordered a beer.
“You work all day?” he asked the other man.
“Cheaper that way. I have a few people I can call on if I need a day on the lake, though.” Quinn placed the bottle on the glossy bar in front of him.
Leo folded his hand around the bottle. “A big fisherman?”
“That’s why I came here. My buddy and I used to come out once a month, spend the weekend. Loved this place. Bought this before we shipped out.” He swept his arm to indicate the bar. “I came back, he didn’t.”
“I saw the tat on your arm.” Leo motioned with the hand holding the beer. “The boots, rifle and helmet? For him?”
Quinn nodded, his focus on wiping the bar in front of him, his jaw tight. “More his dream than mine. I’d just as soon be shed of it.”
“You sure you want to leave Bluestone behind?” Leo inclined his head toward Lily. “She’s as much a part of Bluestone as anything.”
Quinn tossed the bar rag in the sink behind him with a follow-through worthy of LeBron. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But Leo could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile quirk the other man’s lips. Leo took his beer and headed toward Lily and Trinity, unable to help himself, telling himself that he didn’t really know anyone else here. And he had an insatiable curiosity, which made him a good reporter.
“You two ladies look busy down here,” he said, looking past Lily’s shoulder to the scribbled notes on the legal pad in front of him. “What are you working on on a Friday night?”
“Remember those social nights back when we were kids? The movies, the softball games, the block parties?” Lily asked. “We’re trying to see if we can manage to do that again, to kind of boost community morale while we’re working on this concert series.”
“Because you don’t have enough to do with running your business and working with kids?” he asked, addressing each of them.
Lily shifted her legs toward him, her eyes bright, which always meant bad news for him. “You, on the other hand, have plenty of time on your hands.”
“I’ll have you know I’m organizing the slogan campaign down at the newspaper office. Part time, while Max is in school.”
Lily popped off the stool and flung her arms around him. “You’re staying?”
He extricated himself from her arms, aware of Quinn watching them. He hadn’t talked to his editor yet, but he’d decided to stay through the end of the school year. “For a few weeks anyway. I don’t want to push another change on Max just now.”
Lily sat back on the stool, grinning. “Sit down, have another drink. Quinn! Three beers.”
Leo glanced at Trinity’s glass, surprised to see it was filled with a golden beer. She didn’t seem the beer type, but he didn’t say so. Instead he took the empty barstool beside her. Lily lifted her eyebrows at his choice of seat. He ignored her.
“Are we celebrating?” Quinn approached, balancing two glasses and Leo’s choice in a bottle in one palm.
“Leo’s decided to stay for a while. Maybe we can get him to work on our new project.”
Quinn looked less than thrilled by the idea of Leo staying, but he rolled his eyes when Lily mentioned the project. “Run away now, man. Lily knows how to get people to work like no woman I’ve ever known.”
“You don’t know that many women, that’s why.” Lily lifted her glass toward him.
He gave her a half-grin before he turned to his other customers.
“So what is it the two of you are cooking up?” Leo asked Trinity, who hadn’t had a reaction to his announcement. Did she care or not? And did he care if she did?
“We want to start Friday night movie nights once it gets warmer. We tried to remember what we used for a screen.”
“We used the side of Boysen’s, when it was painted white. We’d put our blankets and stuff on the lawn by the landing and face the building. I remember sometimes the breeze off the lake was kind of cold.”
“All the better for snuggling.”
“I thought you intended to increase the populations of Bluestone by getting people to move here, not by getting everyone pregnant.”
“Funny. But good that you remember that. Now we just need to see if we can rent a giant film projector and a place that rents good movies. We may have to charge something like a dollar a person to pay for it, but I think people will come, just to have something different
to do.”
“Maybe we could do themes,” Trinity said. “One week do Fifties Night, dress up like the Fifties and show a Doris Day movie or something. Another night we could do a horror movie—not so scary the kids can’t come—and dress up in costume. Halloween in May, maybe. What do you think?”
“Sounds fun,” Lily said, while Leo dragged his thoughts away from picturing Trinity in a poodle skirt, or a sexy Halloween costume.
“So you can call around tomorrow, looking for a place that has projectors?” Lily asked Leo, as if he’d volunteered.
Leo exchanged a glance with Quinn, who was standing close enough to hear.
“Sure,” Leo agreed. “I hate to be a wet blanket, but isn’t this putting off your concert series idea?”
“We’re trying to figure out who is going to try to contact Maddox Bradley. Most of the people who knew him when he came in the summers have moved away, and we thought it should be someone who knew him,” Trinity said.
“Beth!” Lily called to the waitress walking by. “Didn’t you live here when Maddox Bradley did?”
Beth bobbled the loaded tray, and Quinn swore. But she got it under control, then turned to face them. “I knew Maddox. Why?”
“Were you at the town hall meeting the other day? We want him to headline a concert series. We thought he’d do it because he spent a lot of time here, but we wanted to approach him with a personal touch.”
The girl blushed. “He won’t remember me. He’s a star now.”
“Even stars remember childhood vacations.”
“I wouldn’t,” Beth said with a toss of her dark braid.
“Is there anyone else in town who might know him? Who might know how
to get in touch with him?”
“No one I can think of.”
Lily frowned. “I guess we have to go about it the usual way, then, go through his p.r. department.”
“I suppose you want me to do that, too,” Leo muttered.
“Would you?” Lily asked with a pretty tilt to her head, and Trinity laughed.