by Gerri Hill
“I’m going to say hello to your mom,” she said.
“Okay. Will you play catch with me?”
“Sure. Baseball?”
“Yeah. I have two gloves.”
“Okay.”
Jack beat her into the house and ran past Hannah without speaking. Hannah looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Baseball,” she explained. She pulled the bottle of red wine out of her pack. “Didn’t know if you had anything for dinner.”
“Nice,” Hannah said as she inspected it. “I do have a bottle, but yours looks to be a little more expensive than mine.” She grinned at her. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
“I’ve found that cost doesn’t necessarily indicate which wine will taste better,” she said. “This was one of my grandfather’s favorites.” She looked toward the stove. “It smells great in here, by the way.”
“Thank you. Everything is on a low simmer so we’ve got time before it’s ready. Would you like a glass?” Hannah asked, pointing to a bottle of wine already opened. “I have a very bad habit of drinking wine while I cook.”
Lindsey laughed. “Why do you say it’s a bad habit?”
“I only say that because Margie thinks it is. She—”
Jack came hurrying back into the kitchen carrying two gloves and a ball. “Mom, Lindsey is gonna play catch with me.”
“Good. I’ll come watch.” She looked back at Lindsey. “So? Wine?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
The glove was a little tight on her hand, but she managed to catch the first ball Jack threw her way. She tossed it back at him and he caught it easily.
“You can throw it harder,” he said. “I’m pretty good.”
She glanced over at Hannah, who had taken a seat on one of the rockers. She was holding a glass of wine and the other she’d placed on the porch near the edge.
“Do you play with him?” she asked.
“Some. He says I throw like a girl.”
Lindsey laughed. “Yeah, I never understood that.”
“Well, in all fairness, I didn’t have any brothers, and my father’s idea of a sporting event is sitting by the pool with a cocktail.”
Lindsey grinned. “My kinda guy.”
“No…at least you’d be in the pool!”
After a few more tosses with Jack, she sat down on the porch and picked up her wineglass. “You wear me out,” she told Jack. “I think tomorrow we should do the river and the rope swing. We’ll practice catching a ball while you jump.”
His eyes widened. “Oh…that’ll be fun!”
She turned to Hannah. “That is, if it’s okay with your mom.”
Hannah smiled at her. “I keep telling you, you’ll be sick of us before too long.”
“And I keep telling you that won’t happen.”
* * *
Hannah opened the oven and checked the garlic bread. She turned the oven off but left the bread inside, thinking it could go another minute or two.
“Why don’t you show Lindsey your room?” she suggested to Jack.
As soon as they walked off, she began taking plates out. It had been so long since she’d entertained anyone, she was looking forward to setting a nice table and serving a meal. She and Jack normally ate at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. Tonight, they would use Lilly’s formal dining room. And if she dared, she’d use some of the china from the hutch…but no, she didn’t dare. With her luck, Jack would break something and she’d never hear the end of it from Margie. She did wonder, however, what would happen to all of the china and the furniture. She thought that perhaps Dennis’s sister would have already claimed it, but there’d been no mention of it to her. Not that it concerned her. She certainly didn’t want any of it. She had her own wedding china boxed away in her parents’ attic. And the hutch she’d used? It had been sold like most of their other furniture.
She paused in her task, thinking back to the house they’d lived in. It was the first house they’d bought after she and James married. As James’s salary increased, he’d wanted to move to a bigger home, but she was settled there. She liked her neighbors. She was only a few blocks from Avery and Jennifer—her running buddies. And her parents’ house was only a ten-minute drive away. She loved it there. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to sell it and move.
But the house no longer held happy memories for her. It was simply a reminder of James’s illness. And like Jack, she kept expecting to see James walk into the house, come into the kitchen while she was cooking…find him sitting in his recliner watching TV. No, with James’s ghost there, it hadn’t been hard to sell.
“Need some help?”
She turned, finding Lindsey watching her. She smiled apologetically. She was standing there still holding the plates in her hands.
“Sorry. I’m afraid I drifted off for a second.”
Lindsey nodded in understanding. “Memories?”
Hannah took a deep breath. “Yes. I was thinking about Lilly’s china and all of her furniture and somehow I ended up thinking about our house in San Antonio and…”
“And James?”
Hannah nodded as she finished setting the table. “I loved the house, really. James wanted to buy something bigger, something newer, but I always balked. I didn’t want to move.” She turned to Lindsey. “I was thinking about—even though I loved it—how easy it had been to sell it…to leave.”
“Death will…stain things.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes.” She walked closer to Lindsey and touched her arm, letting her fingers rest there. “As we both know all too well.”
Lindsey met her gaze, holding it. Hannah expected to see sadness in her eyes, but it was something else there instead, something she couldn’t quite grasp. Then Lindsey blinked, breaking their stare.
“So…you need help with anything?”
It was a quiet question, and Hannah blinked too, trying to remember what she’d been doing. She realized her fingers were still wrapped around Lindsey’s arm, and she slowly pulled them away.
“I was setting the table,” she said, reminding herself of her earlier task. She pointed at the hutch. “I didn’t dare use Lilly’s china, but we’ll be brave and use her cloth napkins.” Then she smiled. “Well, you and I will. Jack will use paper. If he’d let me, I’d put a bib on him when he eats spaghetti.”
Lindsey laughed. “You may want to put one on me too.”
Deciding it was too much to bring all the food to the table, they made their plates in the kitchen, buffet style. The salad bowl and garlic bread were the only things placed between them on Lilly’s table, which was big enough to seat ten.
Lindsey had opened the bottle of wine she’d brought, and she let Jack have a Coke, using a third wineglass for him instead of his usual one.
“Fancy,” he said with a grin.
“Don’t break it,” she warned him.
“Oh, my God…this is so good,” Lindsey said as she bit into a meatball. “Did you make these yourself?”
Hannah was pleased that she could tell. “Yes. I’m not a fan of frozen meatballs. Or sauce from a jar.”
“No wonder this is Jack’s favorite meal. It’s delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“I can’t decide if I like this one the best or the triple-cheese casserole,” Jack said.
Lindsey met her gaze. “I definitely want to be invited for dinner when you make that.”
Hannah laughed. “Yes, and it’s obscenely fattening. We’ll have to spend the entire next day working it off.”
“So we’ll hike to the river instead of taking the Mule,” she said as she twirled pasta on her fork.
“Did Jack ask you about the Fourth?”
“He did.”
“And?”
“And she’s going!” Jack said around a mouthful of spaghetti.
Lindsey nodded. “I’d love to. Sounds like fun.”
* * *
“As hot as it was today, it always cools down in the even
ing,” Hannah said as she settled into one of the rockers on the porch.
“Yes, it’s pleasant.” Lindsey sat down on the porch itself, resting back against the railing as she watched Hannah put the rocker in motion.
“I know I don’t have to say this, but Jack absolutely adores you.”
“Yeah…and that’s definitely mutual. He’s a great kid, Hannah. You should be proud.”
Hannah smiled. “I’m…thankful,” she said. “I don’t know about proud. I just lucked out with him, I think.”
“He’s wise beyond his years.”
“Yes, he is. I’m not sure if it was James’s illness that caused him to mature so quickly or the fact that he wasn’t really ever around kids his own age. Of the group of friends we hung out with, we were the first to have a child,” Hannah said. “Jack was nearly four before another one came along. By the time he was six, playing with two-year-olds didn’t appeal to him and he tended to stick around the adults.” She took a sip of her wine. “He hadn’t even turned nine when James got sick.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long was he ill?”
Hannah sighed. “His headaches started long before he finally saw a doctor. Once he was diagnosed, he…well, I think he gave up. He lived fifteen months, but they weren’t good months. He was in a lot of pain, especially toward the end.” She leaned forward a little. “I never told Jack this, but I think James knew long before he first complained of the headaches. He took out a second life insurance policy about eight months before he went to the doctor.”
“Intuition, you mean?”
“Yes. When I think back on it now, his personality was changing. He was always a happy, playful man. Nothing seemed to bother him. But then he changed. He started worrying about little things that before wouldn’t even cross his mind. He stopped wanting to go out with our friends. He started working long hours.” She paused. “I…I even thought that maybe he was having an affair, he’d changed so much. But then he couldn’t hide the headaches from me any longer and when I finally made him go see a doctor…well…he already knew what the outcome was going to be.” She sighed. “He suffered through the treatments because of me and Jack. I think if he’d been on his own, he would have just left…just drifted away on his own terms.”
Lindsey finished the wine in her glass and set it down beside her. She couldn’t decide which was worse—knowing a loved one was going to die and having to watch it or having it thrust upon you without a moment’s warning. As devastated as she’d been when she got the news about her family, she tended to think that was better than having to watch them slip away from her for fifteen months. Of course she hadn’t lost one person. Her grief was magnified ten-fold because it was all of them…at once.
“I’m sorry.”
Lindsey looked up, meeting Hannah’s eyes in the moonlight. The whispered words hung in the air between them. Had Hannah read her mind?
“Nothing for you to be sorry for,” she said. “A loss is a loss, no matter the circumstances.”
“Still…I only lost my husband. You lost…so many.” Hannah sighed quietly. “I had my family to turn to. You had—”
“No one,” Lindsey finished for her.
Hannah leaned forward again, bending closer to rest her hand on Lindsey’s shoulder. “I wish I could have been there for you.”
“You and Jack…you being here now…that’s been so good for me. I can’t tell you how much it means that you’ve let me into your life like this.”
Hannah squeezed her shoulder. “And you’ve let us into yours.”
When the back door opened, Hannah leaned back in the rocker, away from her. Jack stuck his head out.
“Is it time for ice cream yet?”
“How can you possibly have room for ice cream after all that you ate?”
“Just a little, Mom…please?”
“Okay. Just a little.”
“Thanks!” He looked at her. “You want some?”
Lindsey shook her head. “No, I’m still full from dinner. Besides, I should get going.”
He walked fully onto the porch. “Are we gonna play tomorrow at the river?”
“Yeah…we’ll play at the rope swing.” She looked to Hannah for confirmation and Hannah nodded. “I’ll pick you up like usual. About eleven or so?”
“I’ll bring lunch this time,” Hannah offered. “Tuna salad okay?”
“Sure.” She got up and rubbed Jack’s hair affectionately. “See you then, buddy.”
“Okay.” He hugged her quickly. “I guess I should get Max. They’re asleep.”
“Both dogs are on your bed?” Hannah asked with raised eyebrows.
Jack bit his lip and backed away. “No,” he said unconvincingly as he ran back inside.
Lindsey laughed. “He’s too cute.”
“Tell me about it.”
Hannah stood and took the wineglass from her before heading back into the kitchen. “I’m glad you came over for dinner.”
Lindsey followed her inside. “Thanks for asking. I enjoyed it. And if you couldn’t tell by how much I ate, I loved the meal. Your sauce and the meatballs were superb.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to cook for someone who appreciates it.” She put the wineglasses in the sink. “Not that Jack isn’t complimentary, but he’d be happy with a rotation of three meals.”
“Spaghetti and meatballs, the triple-cheese thing—which I can’t wait to try—and what else?”
“Hamburgers.”
“Ah. Well, we’ll need to grill out again on the deck.”
Jack came back with two sleepy puppies following behind him. Max came up to her and sat down, leaning heavily against her leg. She reached down to scratch his head.
“We should go. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
Jack was already in the freezer, taking out a tub of ice cream. He turned to her and smiled. “Good night, Lindsey.”
“Good night, kiddo.” She looked over at Hannah. “Thanks again.”
Hannah surprised her by coming closer and drawing her into a quick, tight hug. “Good night, Lindsey. See you tomorrow.”
As Hannah slipped away from her, Lindsey had an urge to pull her closer again. It wasn’t anything inappropriate—this was Jack’s mother, after all—but human contact, the comforting touch of someone, a gentle, unexpected hug…all things she missed. Instead of satisfying her need for contact, she gave the briefest of nods to Hannah, then headed to the door.
Chapter Thirty-One
Hannah sat on the rock, watching Jack and Barney splash in the creek while they waited for Lindsey to pick them up. She had a small, soft-sided cooler packed with their tuna sandwiches and a Coke for Jack. She had put in a couple of water bottles, but knowing Lindsey as she did now, she didn’t doubt that she’d have beer for both of them. That was a bit odd for her. While she and James enjoyed a beer now and then, especially at backyard get-togethers with friends, she wouldn’t call herself a beer drinker. In fact, it was rare when there was even any at their house. Wine? Sure. She and James nearly always had wine with dinner. And once he’d gotten sick, she’d started the habit of having wine while cooking dinner. Cooking always relaxed her and the wine helped dull the pain.
She smiled as she leaned back on the rock. And what was her excuse now? There really wasn’t one. The pain in her heart had subsided. But cooking still relaxed her, as did the wine, so she saw no reason to end the ritual.
And relax her—it must. Why else would she have dared to hug Lindsey like she had last night? It had felt nice to have that close contact with someone, she admitted. Even though her impromptu hug was simply an act of showing affection, she could still see the pain that Lindsey carried with her. She hoped the physical contact helped in some way. Lindsey had been alone in her grief, save for the uncle she’d mentioned. As rough as Hannah’s own ordeal had been, she couldn’t imagine going through it without the support of her family. For Lindsey to have suffered so much—alone—nearly broke her heart.
“I h
ear her,” Jack called from downstream where he and Barney had ventured.
Hannah listened, hearing the faint rumble of Lindsey’s Mule. An involuntary smile lit her face as she stood, taking the small cooler across the creek to the trail.
“Do you think we could do the float trip again sometime?” Jack asked as they climbed the hill.
“I would imagine so.”
“That was fun playing in the rapids, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was. You should ask Lindsey. We could probably take the Mule to that part of the river and just play there at the rapids,” she suggested.
“Okay. But I really want to play ball on the rope swing.”
Hannah laughed. “Too much to do, too little time, huh?”
He grinned at her. “Do I have to go back to school? This has been like the best summer ever.”
As soon as he said the words, Hannah could see the emotion—and confusion—on his young face.
“I mean…not ever, but…you know…”
She put an arm around his shoulder. “I know, honey. It’s okay. I think we needed this. We needed a fun summer.” She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “We had a crappy year. I think we deserve to have some fun, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” He met her eyes. “But it’s not like I’ve forgotten Dad or anything.”
“I know. We won’t ever forget him.”
* * *
Lindsey sat up as high as the fanny floater would allow, the ball held loosely in her hand. “Okay. One…two…three!”
Jack swung out over the river, his eyes on her. She threw the ball toward him as he let go of the rope. As before, he fumbled with the ball before it slipped out of his grasp and splashed into the water seconds before he did.
“Oh…that time was pretty close,” Hannah said.
Jack swam over to his noodle and held on as he rested. “Maybe we need a bigger ball.”
Lindsey laughed. “What? Like a big beach ball?”
Jack splashed her with water. “Maybe you need to throw better,” he teased.
She splashed water back at him. “Don’t blame me. That was a perfect throw.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Can we go play in the rapids?”