by Gerri Hill
“I think it’ll be fine,” she said to Margie. “If you can’t trust your neighbors, then our society is in very sad shape.”
“Is she a neighbor? Did she move here? Is she here for the summer? What? What do you know about her?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know anything.” Truthfully, she knew absolutely zero about Lindsey McDermott. And as soon as Jack was returned home safely, she would be a little more diligent in finding out about her. Especially if Jack wanted to make this fishing excursion a common occurrence.
Chapter Fourteen
“Okay…remember, this is a secret,” she said as they turned onto the trail that would take them to the pond.
“How’d you find it?”
She grinned. “Can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be a secret then. I should really blindfold you, you know.”
He laughed. “I won’t tell anyone. I don’t even know where we are.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing. The trail I picked you up on…by the creek…that used to be an old Jeep road. My grandfather stopped using the Jeep when they came out with these utility vehicles, like this Mule.”
“Do you still have it?”
She shook her head. “Not his, no. He got rid of it a few years ago. He always used this when riding around out here.” She nudged him with her arm. “There’s a four-wheeler at the pond, though.”
“Oh, cool! Can we ride it?”
“I don’t even know if it’ll start. It hadn’t been used since last summer, I guess. And…your mother would probably kill me if she found out. It’s bad enough I’m sneaking you off to go swimming.”
Yeah, the adult in her knew that this probably wasn’t the smartest move she’d ever made. She was going on Jack’s word that he knew how to swim. The pond was deep. But there were water toys there that the kids had used…the tubes, the noodles, and her favorite—the fanny floaters. She assumed everything would be like they’d left it. Labor Day weekend was the last time they’d swum in the pond.
“So what kind of a pond is this?”
“It’s paradise,” she said, using her grandmother’s word. “It was formed when an underground spring collapsed. Well, the ground on top of it collapsed. It’s this big limestone pool, really. It’s got a little waterfall and everything.”
“Oh, cool!”
His grin was contagious and she returned it. It disappeared from her face, however, when the pond came into sight. She pulled the Mule to the side, next to the lean-to. Like everything else, the place looked neglected. Tree branches were scattered about and leaves still covered the canvas tarp that was draped over the four-wheeler.
Jack was sitting in awe, though, his mouth slightly open as he stared. The dogs were whimpering on the back, wanting to get out.
“Wow,” he whispered. “It’s…it’s magical.”
“Yeah…I know,” she said quietly, her gaze taking in the pond and waterfall. The waterfall was small by most standards—ten feet high at most. It dropped in a nice cascade into the pond, adding icy cold spring water by the gallons.
“It looks like a picture or something,” Jack said. “How did you find it?” he asked again.
“This pond was here long before we were,” she said. “When my great-grandfather bought this land, he found it. My grandfather learned to swim in this very pond. So did my father.”
“And then you.”
“Yep.”
His face turned solemn. “And your brother and sister?”
She nodded. “Lorrie was the oldest, then Shane.” She swallowed. “Their kids all learned to swim here too.” She took a deep breath, pushing down the grief that threatened to show itself.
She went around to the back of the Mule and dropped the tailgate, letting the dogs hop off.
With Max’s newfound love of swimming, he led the way and splashed into the pond. Barney, however, held back, walking in only enough to get his feet wet.
She laughed. “Yeah…finally something Max can do that Barney can’t.”
Jack got out of the Mule, seemingly taking it all in. He watched the dogs, then glanced at the pier, then the lean-to, then back to the pier.
He walked out onto it and stood there, his gaze going to the waterfall that plunged into the pond. It was still flowing pretty good, she noted. Some years when it was hot and dry, the flow was nothing more than a trickle. The pier had been there forever, but her grandfather had added the little deck on the side of the pond within the last five years. Her father had wanted to put a larger deck next to the lean-to, but her grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted it to remain primitive. Even so, the little deck got its use. While the kids were playing in the water, the adults would sit there, drinking beer from the cooler he’d packed. Lindsey would alternate between playing with the kids…and joining the adults on the pier with a cold beer. She smiled now, thinking of those long, lazy summer days. She looked about, hating that she’d let it get to this condition. Her grandfather always had the pond and the surrounding area looking pristine. Now…it looked neglected, as it had been.
“When you were little, did you swim in the river too?”
She turned her attention to Jack, pushing her memories aside. “We weren’t allowed to go into the river until we could prove that we could swim across the pond.”
The pond itself, while deep in the middle, wasn’t extremely wide. She’d guess forty feet across at its farthest point and perhaps fifteen feet deep in the middle. Away from the waterfall, where the pier was, it was only thirty feet across, if that. The limestone bottom made for a crystal clear pool, the hue of the water changing from blue to green, depending on the angle of the sun. The ferns that grew along and under the rim, however, made it look like something from a tropical paradise and not the Hill Country. Unlike the river and creek, there were no cypress trees here. Oaks, maples and the ever-present juniper—cedar—dominated the terrain.
She walked over to the lean-to and opened up one of the two metal footlockers there. Inside were the water toys she’d remembered. She pulled out a noddle and tossed it to Jack, who caught it between his hands. She smiled as she found her favorite fanny floater.
“Okay…so you swear you won’t drown, right?”
He laughed. “I swear.”
Max and Barney were splashing in the water on the far end of the pond where the overflow trickled down to form an unnamed creek that eventually found its way into little Buffalo Creek.
“I’ll warn you now, it’s cold,” she said. “I always found it best to just jump in and get it over with.”
She pulled her tank top off and tossed it on the pier. She’d at least remembered her top this time so she wasn’t just in a sports bra. She looked down at herself, thinking the bra covered more than this little bikini top did. She walked out to the end of the pier, holding the fanny floater in her arms and…after looking around the empty pond, she turned to look at Jack, meeting his gaze. No, it wasn’t empty. Jack was here. He smiled at her and she smiled back, then she took a couple of running steps and plunged into the cold water.
“Oh…yeah!” she yelled as she surfaced. She shook her hair, slicking it away from her face, then climbed into the fanny floater, sinking down into the water, the float keeping only her arms and torso above water. “Okay, kid…your turn.”
Jack did his version of a Tarzan yell as he ran down the pier and jumped in. The noodle he carried flew out ahead of him and when he surfaced, she had a moment of panic. But he grinned at her and swam over to the noodle, resting one arm across it.
“It’s not that cold,” he said.
“No?”
He grinned. “Okay…a little.” He dogpaddled over toward her, holding on to her float with one hand and his noodle with the other.
With them both out in the water, the dogs were getting anxious. After a little coaxing, Max jumped in and swam toward them, getting close enough for a rub on the head before heading back to shore. Barney whimpered and pawed at the water but refused to get in.
“Wh
y won’t he swim? He gets in the creek.”
“Well, he’s still a pup,” she said. “The creek is shallow. He can walk across it.”
“Max isn’t scared.”
“It took me three or four tries before Max would swim on his own. Don’t worry, Barney will come in.”
She’d no sooner spoke the words and he lunged into the water as Max swam back to him. Down he went, his big feet splashing as he tried to swim. He headed back into shallow water, standing near the shore as Max swam back out.
“You used to come here a lot?”
“We went to the river more, I guess. My parents’ house was right there so we had everything. Here, there’s no electricity, no drinking water, no bathrooms.”
“But this is like a swimming pool.”
“Yeah, but the river has a big rope swing in one of the cypress trees. Now that’s fun,” she said with a grin. “We’ll do that too.”
He pushed off of her, swimming toward the shore and the dogs, leaving his noodle behind. He got out of the water, his bare feet slipping on the rocks as he climbed back to the pier. He held his arms up, then took off running, leaping high in the air and landing with a splash into the water. Again, she had a moment of panic, only releasing her breath when his head popped above water. She shoved the noodle in his direction and he draped his arms over it, kicking his feet to float over toward her.
“So whose swim shorts am I wearing?” he asked, surprising her with the question.
“Those were Jett’s. He was my brother’s oldest child. He would have been ten this summer…in August.”
“Like me. I’ll be ten in November.”
She nodded. “Yeah…like you.” She met his gaze. “You…you remind me of him. Well, actually, you remind me of Eli, his little brother, but he was only seven.” She paused. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I know you’re not him…yet…”
“That’s okay, Lindsey. You remind me of my dad. I know you’re not him, but you do stuff with me, take me fishing.” He smiled. “Now swimming.”
She splashed water at him playfully. “Your dad, huh? You probably shouldn’t tell your mother that.”
He splashed water back at her, then ducked under and swam for shore. She smiled as she watched him get out and climb back on the pier, giving another Tarzan yell as he jumped once again into the pond.
Chapter Fifteen
Hannah couldn’t help but notice the change in Jack the last few weeks. He was as happy as she’d ever seen him. The summer so far—at least for him—was turning out how she’d wanted…him carefree and enjoying his time out here where his dad grew up. But for her? She looked at the freshly painted kitchen. That had been her so-called fun. She’d done about as much to the place as she could without Margie having a stroke. Most of Lilly’s things were boxed up and put away. Her and Jack’s things were now out. The kitchen was pretty much all hers, the unpacking was done, the cleaning was finished.
She now had time on her hands. Unfortunately, her son was nowhere to be found. She’d practically abandoned him the first four weeks they’d been here. She’d left him on his own while she tended to the house. Since he’d found a friend, it seemed that he was now abandoning her.
Here she sat—alone—waiting on him to return from yet another fun outing with Lindsey McDermott.
God, she hoped the woman wasn’t doing anything…anything bad to her son. She shook her head. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. Jack was happy. Jack practically danced when he was leaving here, running down the trail to the creek with Barney…running to meet Lindsey.
Okay, so was she jealous that he had a friend? Did she feel like someone was taking her place? She nibbled on her lower lip. Yes, maybe a little of both, she admitted. She wasn’t really worried, she told herself. Not really. Lindsey usually texted her if they were going to be late. Like yesterday when they’d been fishing. She glanced at the clock. There’d been no text today so she assumed Jack would be back any minute now. She’d made a cheesy, gooey casserole for dinner, one of his favorite meals. All she had to do was bake it. That was how she’d spent her afternoon—cooking—while he’d been out playing.
She leaned back in her chair. God, how depressing. If James were here, he’d tell her that she was digging herself in deeper and deeper into her pool of misery. He would tell her to get out and do something. Of course, if James were here, they wouldn’t be here.
She brushed away a tear, surprised that it had formed. The tears she had now…were they still for James? Or were they for herself and the sad state she found herself in? How selfish of her if the tears were for the latter. It was her own fault. There were plenty of ways to meet people, to make new friends. She simply hadn’t been in the right frame of mind. Was she now? Could she make another two months of this, waiting on school to start?
No. She couldn’t. She had to get out. She had to do something and she’d drag Jack along—kicking and screaming—if she had to. Of course, that brought to mind a scene from the other day when she’d once again asked if Jack wanted to go to the state park. His answer had been quick and decisive—no. He already had plans with Lindsey.
Which again made her wonder just what it was that they did together. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, hoping that Lindsey wasn’t hurting him, hoping she wasn’t…well, doing unthinkable things with him.
Stop it! No! Jack was happy. There were absolutely no signs whatsoever that Lindsey was doing anything inappropriate. Still, he was nine years old, for god’s sake. Just a child.
No, the problem was, Jack shared very little about what they did. His answers were always evasive, vague. Well, to put her mind at ease, she would ask him directly today what in the hell it was that they did all day long!
It was only a few moments later that she saw him emerge from the woods, using the trail he and Barney had made. As she watched him, she noted the smile on his face. She also noted what appeared to be a skinned knee. Had he fallen? Then she frowned. Where was his fishing pole? Hadn’t he taken it with him?
He burst into the back door of the kitchen, Barney at his heels.
“Hey, Mom,” he said.
“Hey, yourself,” she answered. She stopped him when he would have walked on past. “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your knee.”
“Oh.” He held his leg out and looked down at his injury. “I fell on the rocks.”
“I see. And…where is your fishing pole?”
“Lindsey has it.”
She got up and walked around him, turning him to face her. “Jack…what is it that you and Lindsey do all day?”
He shrugged. “Fishing…and stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Just…stuff,” he said.
“Jack…no, that answer is not going to fly this time,” she said as she put her hands on her hips. “I want to know what you do.”
He bit his lip nervously and shifted in front of her, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Jack?”
“It’s…it’s a secret,” he said quietly.
She felt her heart jump into her throat. A secret? What did that mean? What was Lindsey doing with him—to him—that warranted it be kept a secret from her? Was she brainwashing him? Manipulating him? She tried very hard to keep her expression even.
“Jack…a secret?”
He nodded. “I can’t tell you.”
“Jack…you need to tell me right now what she’s doing to you.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. It’s our secret.”
Oh, God…
She took his shoulders and squeezed them. “Jack…tell me right now.”
“Mom…you’ll get mad.”
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What was this woman doing to him? She tried to push back her fear, hoping it wasn’t showing on her face.
“No, I promise I won’t get mad, Jack. You have to tell me, okay?”
“You won’t get mad?”
> “I promise,” she said again.
He looked away from her, his head hung down. “We’ve…we’ve been going…swimming,” he said quietly.
She frowned. “Swimming?”
“Yeah.”
She released the hold she had on him and stood up straight. “Swimming?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
“You said you wouldn’t get mad.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. Swimming.” Thank you! She paused. “Where?”
“Well, sometimes in the river.”
“The river?”
“We have floats and stuff. And sometimes we go…well, I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
She grabbed the bridge of her nose and squeezed it. “Jack…you’re nine years old. I know you know how to swim but—”
“I’m almost ten.”
“Okay. Okay…let’s say you’re ten. You’re still too young to be out by yourself, swimming in the river, for god’s sake!”
“I’m not by myself. Lindsey’s with me. She’s a good swimmer. She’s taught me to do the backstroke and everything.”
Great…some strange woman is teaching my son the backstroke. She rubbed her forehead, surprised that her head hadn’t already exploded. “So where else do you go besides the river?”
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
She stared at him. “Okay, you’re really starting to piss me off, Jack.”
He stared back at her, his big blue eyes serious. “You shouldn’t use words like that in front of me.”
Okay, so this was going nowhere. Well, if Jack wouldn’t tell her, then she’d just have to ask Lindsey where the hell they went that was such a big secret.
“Go take a bath,” she said abruptly, pointing to the door. “I’ll get dinner going.”
“What are we having?”
“Liver and onions.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, gross, Mom.”
“Yes, indeed.” She rolled her eyes. “You know very well that it’s not liver and onions. Had I known that you were going to be keeping secrets from me, I wouldn’t have made your favorite.”