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The Summer of New Beginnings: A Magnolia Grove Novel

Page 14

by Bette Lee Crosby


  “It’s nice that you know so much about the town,” Tom said. “I’ve never lived in any one place long enough to get to that point.” He fingered his chin and gave a soft chuckle. “Or maybe it’s just that I never really made time. I’ve been here almost a month and haven’t seen much other than my apartment and the clinic.”

  “If you want, I could show you around or maybe take you to one of our Chamber of Commerce meetings.”

  “That would be great,” Tom replied. He gave a smile of satisfaction and ordered two glasses of pinot noir. Conversation came easily and flowed across the table, bubbling and cascading like the rush of water in a brook. One subject inevitably led to another, and as they sat talking, the sky turned crimson, then darkened.

  The shadows of tall pines fell across the yard, and as she told about losing Clancy, Tom leaned in so far it seemed as though their noses might touch. The whole time, he kept his eyes fixed on her face, seeing not only the blue but also the passion of her eyes.

  When they finished the first glass of wine, he ordered a second and suggested they stay for dinner. Meghan agreed. There was nothing about Tom Whitely she didn’t like. He had a soft, easy laugh and a way of making even the tiniest fact interesting.

  He told of how from the age of six he’d wanted to be a veterinarian. Laughing at his own memories, he spoke of bringing home strays and bandaging legs that had no injuries.

  “After Dad’s death, Mom and I moved to a small apartment,” he said. “The building didn’t allow pets, but that didn’t stop me from carting them home. On Saturday mornings, Mom and I would get up early and spend most of the day looking to find homes for whatever animals I’d carried back to the apartment that week.” He laughed and told how the building superintendent knew they had animals coming and going but looked the other way.

  “Mr. Sullivan,” he mused fondly. “He was a good man.”

  “Were you really young when your dad died?” Meghan asked.

  Tom nodded sadly. “It was fourteen years ago. I was twelve at the time.”

  In that single moment, Meghan knew he’d loved his daddy the way she’d loved hers.

  “I lost my dad, too,” she said. “Almost four years ago. It was the summer before I was supposed to start college. That’s when I took over running the Snip ’N’ Save.”

  “That’s quite a responsibility for someone so young . . . ” The solemn sound of understanding was threaded through his words.

  She nodded. “It wasn’t what I’d planned to do with my life, but at the time, I felt keeping the Snip ’N’ Save up and running was kind of like keeping my dad with me.”

  As she recounted the sadness of that time, he stretched his arm across the table and touched his hand to hers. His fingers were warm and gentle; he folded them across hers in a way that was caring but not possessive. As they moved on to talking of Tracy and Lucas, his hand remained in place, and she made no effort to move hers.

  When Anna Bonucci passed by, they ordered the daily special, which was chicken tetrazzini. After only a second bite, Tom smiled and said he could see why she thought the restaurant was so special.

  Once the dinner dishes were cleared away, they ordered cappuccinos and continued to talk, not about the clinic or the Snip ’N’ Save but of the things in life that gave them pleasure. Meghan told about her love of writing, and Tom spoke of running.

  “That’s the only time my mind is clear of everything else,” he said.

  Even as the words came from his lips, he knew running would not clear the image of her ocean-blue eyes from his mind. He took a sip of his cappuccino, then set the cup back in place. Each sip was a thing to be savored because he wanted to make it last. Draining the cup could possibly bring the evening to a close.

  It was nearly eleven when Meghan realized they were the last people left in the courtyard.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she said, laughing. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “Neither did I,” Tom replied. “And we never even got around to talking about my doing an ad in the Snip ’N’ Save.”

  When she took Sox’s leash in her hand, Tom casually looped his arm through hers. “If you’re free tomorrow afternoon . . . ”

  “I’m not,” she replied, sounding regretful. “I promised I’d take Lucas for the day.”

  Seeing the disappointment on his face brought out a boldness she did not normally have. She stopped and turned to him. “I could do any evening next week.”

  They settled on Tuesday, and he suggested he’d pick her up at the house.

  “Plan on dinner,” he added.

  After Meghan loaded Sox into the car, Tom circled around and opened the driver’s side door for her. She climbed in, looked up, and allowed her gaze to linger on his face.

  “It’s been a wonderful night,” she said.

  “Yes, it certainly has been.” He leaned down, touched his fingers to her lips, and whispered, “Until Tuesday.” Then he closed the car door.

  If he had asked her to stay or suggested they sit by the lake and look up at the moon, Meghan would have gladly done it, because Tom stirred something inside her. Something she thought she’d forgotten.

  On the drive home, Sox slept on the seat beside her, and Meghan hummed the melody of a song she’d heard coming from inside the Garden. She couldn’t remember the lyrics but believed it to be a love song, one that in time she might come to know.

  Probably.

  Meghan

  I keep telling myself it’s ridiculous to feel so smitten after a single date, especially since it wasn’t even a real date. Tom is new in town, and it’s possible he was just looking for company, but honestly, it didn’t feel that way.

  Aunt Phoebe claims there’s no such thing as love at first sight, and only fools believe in it. Show me a person who falls in love after a single kiss, and I’ll show you a person headed for heartbreak, she says.

  Daddy didn’t feel that way at all. He claimed Aunt Phoebe not believing in love was why she never got married; that, plus the way she could talk a man into the madhouse. One time he told her, Phoebe, if you can’t trust your own heart, how can you ever hope to trust anyone else’s?

  I’m certain Daddy knew what he was talking about, because he said the first time he met Mama he knew right then and there that he would marry her one day. Now if that’s not love at first sight, I don’t know what is.

  Given my druthers, I’d prefer to think like Daddy.

  I’m not saying this thing with Tom is flat-out love, but we’ve definitely got a strong attraction to one another.

  He reminds me of Daddy, so how can I not like him? It’s not so much a physical resemblance but his mannerisms. Tom has Daddy’s way of making people feel special, and not just people but animals, too.

  Sox took to him right away, which goes to prove what I’m saying. It’s easy enough for someone to put on a good show and fool other people, but it’s not so easy to fool a dog. Dogs have a sixth sense that people don’t have. They can smell trouble even when it’s covered with a layer of cologne.

  For now I’m going to trust Sox’s judgment and follow my heart.

  We’ll see what happens.

  Saturday

  On Saturday morning Meghan was awake before anyone in the house had stirred. She rose from the bed, pulled out the notes she’d copied from Gabriel Hawke’s website, and sat in the chair to study them. After she’d read them over three times, she stood in front of the mirror and began practicing an overemphasized version of the word mama.

  All she needed to convince Tracy was a word, a single word. Gabriel Hawke’s mother had taught him how to speak fluently. Surely she could teach Lucas one word.

  It was close to eight when Tracy rapped on Meghan’s door asking to borrow her yellow sweater. Meghan hurriedly stuffed the packet of notes in the top bureau drawer and called out, “Sure, come on in.”

  Tracy was wearing an ivory top with trousers that looked as if she’d been poured into them.

  “Wow,
” Meghan exclaimed. “You look fantastic!”

  Tracy gave an embarrassed grin. “These pants are actually a bit snug. I haven’t worn them since I worked at the bank.”

  “No, they look good.” Meghan pulled the yellow sweater from the closet and handed it to Tracy. “What time are you leaving?”

  “Ten thirty, if that’s okay with you. Kelly and I are going for coffee before we meet the others.” Tracy hesitated a minute, then said, “It’s funny. Back in school I thought Kelly was a scatterbrain, but it turns out she’s really smart. She’s the one who invited me to come along today. Once a month Kelly and the other moms get together and leave their husbands to watch the kids.”

  Tracy gave a disheartened sigh as she turned away and said, “Needless to say, that doesn’t work for everybody.”

  She wasn’t usually a person to feel sorry for herself. When the worst that could happen ended up on her plate, she straightened her back and dealt with it, just as she had in Philadelphia. But this time Meghan sensed a feeling of hurt bristling beneath the so-what surface.

  “I know you’re still missing Dominic,” Meghan said, “but if he were here, you probably wouldn’t be going out with the girls, and I wouldn’t have one whole wonderful day to spend with my nephew.”

  Tracy laughed. “I guess you’re right. Good thing I’ve got you to remind me of how lucky I am.”

  Later, as soon as they finished the breakfast cleanup, Meghan packed a picnic lunch with sandwiches, fruit, and two juice boxes. She tucked in several handfuls of dog treats and a baggie filled with the gingersnap cookies Lucas loved.

  Twice Tracy volunteered to drive them, but Meghan insisted on walking.

  “Lucas and I are out to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine,” she said.

  There was never a question that Meghan was the responsible sister. It had been an accepted fact since she was old enough to toddle around and gather up the toys Tracy left strewn about. But that morning it was as if the tables had suddenly turned. Over and over again Tracy reminded her to be careful of Lucas getting close to the lake, not to let him eat too many cookies or too much fruit and to make certain he wore a sweater if a breeze came up.

  Meghan patiently nodded to each of these commands, then she folded a quilt across the handle of Lucas’s stroller and slid him into the seat. Off they went, Meghan, Lucas, Sox, a cooler full of food, an extra sweater, and a comfy quilt, but when they turned the corner to wave goodbye, Tracy stood on the front porch with her face scrunched into the worried look of a fearful mother.

  It was more than a mile to the lake, but this was a good day for walking. The sun was warm on Meghan’s shoulders, and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair. The motion of the stroller thumping along the walkways lulled Lucas into an easy, relaxed mood.

  As she walked, she ran through the instructions on Hawke’s website again. Choose a calming environment: check. Select a time when the child is neither overtired nor overstimulated: check. Eliminate unnecessary distractions: check. Make learning sessions a one-on-one experience without the interference of others: check.

  They arrived at the lake, and Meghan unfolded the quilt and spread it beneath the umbrella of a leafy oak. When the sun rose high in the sky and the afternoon grew hot, the tree would provide a cooling shade. She lifted Lucas from the stroller and plunked him down in the center of the quilt. Leaving Sox attached to his leash, she looped the handle over her wrist. Today there was to be no running and chasing; today was to be a day for feeling and hearing.

  Dropping down beside Lucas, Meghan lifted him into her lap and turned him to face her. Unaccustomed to this position, the boy’s head turned one way and then the other, perhaps looking for some unknown something or possibly searching for a way to pull free. Sensing his impatience, Meghan tented her knees and locked him in position.

  He sat motionlessly for a few moments, then listed to the side and stretched his arm toward Sox.

  Taking his small hands in hers, Meghan held them to her cheeks with his fingertips touching the corners of her mouth. Giving the word a sound that was large and round, she said, “No.” The word rolled out slowly and with enough growl to be felt in her jawbone and cheeks.

  Although his eyes had been focused on the dog, Lucas’s head snapped back, and he looked up with an expression of surprise. Meghan knew he had felt the word.

  She repeated it twice more in that same overly round way, and as the rumble rose in her throat, Lucas laughed and stretched his fingers toward her mouth. With the look of a newfound pleasure sparkling in his eyes, he rocked his body back and forth, a sign he wanted more.

  She sounded the word over and over again, shaking her head side to side and adding a motion significant to the word. She moved his hands from her cheeks and mouth to the spot just below her jaw where sound vibrated through the bone.

  After she’d lost count of the number of times she’d said the word, she took his hands from her face and moved them to his own. She positioned his chubby little hands alongside the curve of his mouth and held them in place with the light touch of her finger. Looking deep into his eyes, she shook her head as she had before and used overexaggerated lip movements to repeat the word with the same deep-throated growl. Lucas didn’t take his eyes from her face, but neither did he make any attempt to mimic her sound. After a long while, he tired of the game and looked away.

  Taking the package of cookies from her bag, she pulled it open and handed him one. She hoped that after a break, Lucas would be more responsive. Meghan sat gazing out at the lake, wondering if she’d somehow missed a step, wondering if she’d positioned his hands too high or too low. She heard the crinkle of paper and turned. Sox was sniffing his way into the cookie package.

  “No!” she called loudly, and shook her head. It was a knee-jerk reaction, certainly not planned, but as she reached to grab the package, Lucas shook his head and repeated the word. The N was missing, and it had the sound of a single letter O, but it was a clear and distinct effort to mimic what she’d been trying to teach him.

  Meghan’s eyes filled with tears as she lifted Lucas to her chest, and she hugged him until he squiggled to get free. After whispering that he was the sweetest little boy God ever put on this green earth, she sat him back between her tented legs, pulled a box of jelly beans from her pocket, and gave him two. He squealed with delight.

  As soon as the two jelly beans were gone, he held out his hand for more. Meghan shook her head and again growled out another no.

  He again mimicked her. It was doubtful that he’d heard her or felt the vibration of the word, but he’d associated the movement of her head with the sound.

  Now more than ever, Meghan felt the courage of her conviction. Reaching into her tote, she pulled out the photo of Tracy she’d taken from atop the dresser. It was years old, but there was no mistaking Tracy’s smile.

  She took Lucas’s fingers, positioned them on her lower lip, then said, “Mama,” in the overemphasized way she’d practiced.

  He studied her face quizzically, then repeated, “O.”

  Meghan repositioned his hands, with his fingertips touching her upper lip and his palm resting on the lower one. Pressing her lips together, she let him feel the grumble of the M rolling out and then parted her lips and allowed the ah to follow. After she’d done this a dozen or so times, she held Lucas’s hand to her face, repeated “Mama” again, and pointed to Tracy’s picture.

  Lucas laughed merrily and smacked a hand against the image of his mother.

  Meghan knew she was on the right track but was unclear as to where he’d feel the strongest vibrations, so she moved his hands from her lips to her jawbone and then to the front of her throat where the M came up like a roll of thunder. In time, he seemed to understand the connection between that vibration and the picture, but still he made no attempt to mimic the word. She lowered her legs, and he scrambled across, reaching for Sox.

  With the sun already high in the sky, Meghan knew she had only a few hours left. She thought back and
remembered the worried look on Tracy’s face. If they weren’t home by five, she would come in search of them.

  Unwrapping the lunch pack, she handed Lucas a strip of string cheese. He gobbled it down and after that another one and a third. When the cheese was gone, Meghan carved off thin slices of apple and handed them to him one by one. He ate the apple down to the core, then emptied a juice box and crawled into Meghan’s lap. With his eyelids drooping, he leaned his head against her chest, and seconds later he was asleep.

  Precious minutes sped by as Lucas dozed, and Meghan tried to recall some step of Gabriel Hawke’s instructions she might have missed. She’d meant to bring the notes with her, but when Tracy came into the room asking about the sweater, Meghan had gotten flustered and shoved the notes into the drawer instead of putting them back in her tote where they belonged.

  Meghan closed her eyes and imagined herself writing in her journal. The words of a prayer came to mind, and she pleaded that Lucas speak one word.

  “Enable him to say his mama’s name,” she murmured, but before she’d finished the thought, two black-bellied ducks skittered across the lake, calling Waa-choo, waa-choo. The sound startled Sox, and he jumped up, barking. The dog’s movement jostled Lucas and woke him.

  For a moment he sat there looking sleepy, then he spied the picture of Tracy lying next to him. He leaned over, reaching for it, and squealed, “Maaaaaa.”

  It wasn’t exactly a word, but it was the sound of a word, and it settled in Meghan’s heart like a Fourth of July explosion. Pronunciation meant nothing; he had associated the word with Tracy, so it was only a matter of time.

  Bristling with renewed confidence, Meghan rewarded him with more jelly beans, and they went back to work. All afternoon they sat face-to-face with his small hands feeling the vibrations of speech in her mouth and in her jawbone and in the rumble of her throat as she repeated the word over and over again.

  By the time the sun began its descent toward the rooftops at the far end of the lake, he could say three words clearly. Well, at least clearly enough to be understood. His vocabulary consisted of mama, Sox, and no. Of the three, Sox was the least understandable, since it came out sounding like Sah.

 

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