Summer Plans and Other Disasters

by Karin Beery

  Callie tossed the bag back into her car and slammed the door. Spinning around, she jogged past the garage, through the yard to the north line of the white picket fence. She planted her feet and pulled in a deep breath. Spread out wide before her, the beach began to soothe her soul.

  The horizon rippled toward her, washing wave after wave against the rocky shore. Near the lighthouse, children and adults climbed on and around large rocks that broke through the water’s surface. Further out, a few adventurous teens waded in to their ankles. Knees. Thighs. Beyond them, two jet skis bounced by, spraying their wake as the whine of their motors reached Callie’s ears. And in the distance, past the surf and motors and chaos, a bulging white triangle pulled a barely-visible boat across the water, gliding near the horizon.

  Few people understood the breadth, width, or depth of the Grand Traverse bays, much less the expanse of the horizon. With Lake Michigan feeding into the bays, Callie would have to climb to the lantern room of the lighthouse to see past the sailboat, but even that height couldn’t show her the full measure of the water. The higher she climbed, the further back the horizon would move. As a child, she’d dreamed of being tall enough to finally see the other side of “her” lake. Not until Jack first invited her to the lighthouse six years ago did she finally realize the truth—sometimes God’s beauty was too much for a person to take in all at once.

  “Excuse me, where’s the lighthouse?”

  Callie turned to see the pretty boy who’d met her at her car. Behind him, a group of friends had their phones out as they snapped photos. She tried not to roll her eyes as she pointed to the square white building beside her. “This is the lighthouse.”

  Slick looked at the building. His face crumpled. “That’s it?”

  She’d heard Jack field similar questions dozens of times. This summer it would be her turn. Callie smiled as she leaned against the fence. “It’s surprising, I know. Most people expect a tall, cylindrical building with red and white stripes, but lighthouses were usually built with whatever materials the builders had nearby.” She motioned at the forest around them. “With all this wood available and the rocky shoreline, it made sense for them to build the lighthouse like this.”

  A tall, curvy redhead stepped beside Slick. “Does the light still work?”

  Callie shook her head. “There’s a buoy in the water now, but if you’re willing to get your feet wet, you can stand out in the water far enough to get a picture with the lantern tower in it.”

  Red smiled as she slid her sunglasses onto her nose. “Thanks.” She slid her arm around Slick’s. “Let’s go.”

  They walked away, their steps falling into time with the cadence of the waves. She’d love to go spend the day on the beach, but she had work to do. The faster she unpacked, the sooner she could meet up with Kyle. Of course, that depended on whether or not she could get a hold of him, since he hadn’t yet returned her call ... s. It didn’t matter, though. It was still in her best interest to unpack fast. If she couldn’t get ahold of Kyle, then she could go to the beach.

  Callie shuffled to the lighthouse and back inside. She’d just stepped into the awful blue guest room when the phone in her pocket chirped. She pulled out the cell and held her breath. Her heart dropped, but she smiled as she answered. “Hi, Mae.” Callie slouched against the wall.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” said her best friend. “What’s going on? Did you make it to Jack’s?”

  “I’m here. I was just hoping you were Kyle.”

  “He still hasn’t called?”

  “Nope.” Four messages with no responses. The reality of that started to sink in. What if he didn’t want to talk to her? What if he refused to see her? What if he was seeing someone else? It had been years. Anything was possible. She’d been trying to ignore those possibilities, but they always popped back into her head. When Callie thought about Kyle with someone else, her throat constricted. She forced the air in and out of her lungs.

  “You’re wheezing,” said Mae. “Stop it. You’re already considering the worst-case scenario, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t help it. What if I’m right?”

  Something crashed. “Ruby!” Mae sighed. “Cal, I need to run. The girls are repotting my house plants. Keep praying about this and stop worrying.”

  Callie didn’t have time to respond before the phone disconnected. Mae was right. Callie had a plan. She just needed to give the strategy time to work. Until then, she needed to relax and wait for her chance to talk with Kyle, assuming he wanted to talk with her. Three years had passed since she’d broken up with him. He might still be upset. Or dating that imaginary leggy redhead. Or maybe he was engaged to her.

  Callie hiccupped, and a tear dripped from her chin. When had she started crying? What if there really was a redhead? Did Kyle love her? Were they serious? Every horrible possibility raced through her mind until Callie leaned against the ugly bedroom wall and sobbed.

  “Oh, Squirt.” A warm hand slipped behind her shoulder and pulled her away from the wall and into a broad chest. One arm held her close while the other hand smoothed the hair across her shoulders.

  Callie tried to calm down. She gulped for a breath of fresh air but inhaled spicy pine with a hint of Tide. Her spine stiffened. Jack smelled like sweat and sawdust.

  Ryan.

  “Rough day?” Ryan asked, enjoying the silky feel of Callie’s hair beneath his fingers. Had it always been so soft?

  “I’m so sorry.” She pushed out of his arms, drying her face with her hands. Her cheeks were still red, and her eyes were still puffy, and when she hiccupped, he smiled.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Callie shook her head. “It was a long drive up here, and I’m tired. I’m getting upset about nothing.”

  Ryan stepped into the living room and grabbed two tissues from the end table. He offered them to Callie, and she snatched them away without looking at him. “Your plan’s not working?”

  Her eyes widened, and she looked him in the eyes for the first time. “How do you know about my plan?”

  “You always have a plan. And I’ve only ever seen you cry when they fall apart.”

  Callie pushed out her chin. Ryan tried not to smile. Her dark blue eyes contrasted the soft pink of her lips and cheeks. He tried not to think about those. Not yet anyway. She licked her lips. They were moving. She was saying something.

  “What?” He shook his head, refocusing on her eyes.

  “I said there’s nothing wrong with my plans. I have a ninety-five percent success rate.”

  “You’ve kept track?”

  Callie mumbled something, stepping around him as she marched through the living room. “I don’t want to be rude, but I have to finish unpacking my car.”

  She walked away without looking back, so Ryan followed. She looked different. She’d gained weight. He’d never tell her that, even though he approved. He’d always appreciated a woman who looked less like a stick and more like a woman. Callie had always been the squirt. She didn’t look like the squirt anymore.

  Her clothes were different too. She wore those short pants that just covered her knees and a pretty blue shirt that almost matched her eyes. Much more grown up than the shorts and t-shirt she usually wore. Even the way she walked was different. She looked older, like a real teacher, not just Jack’s sister. Ryan had noticed two Christmases ago when she visited and over the past couple of fourth of Julys. Every time he saw her, thinking of her as Jack’s little sister got harder.

  She tripped in the grass but caught her balance and kept going. Ryan grinned. New clothes, same Callie.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I took Jack’s office,” he said.

  Callie jumped in the air before spinning around to face him. She pressed a hand to her chest, sucking in air. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to.” He walked by
her while she collected herself. He had just reached her car when he heard the pebbles crunching behind him. “What do you want me to take first?”

  “There’s not much left. Jack took a couple of loads before he had to leave, and I can grab the rest. I mean, I did pack it all by myself—”

  She was still yammering when Ryan reached around her into the trunk and pulled out the last box, dislodging it from the tight corner.

  “Oh, well. Okay, then. Thanks.”

  “It’s the least I can do. You’re stuck in the blue room.”

  Callie narrowed her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ryan handed the box to Callie before closing the trunk and pulling the last two bags from the back seat. She stood there watching him, so he pushed her toward the house with one of the bags.

  “Right. Moving.” She headed back toward the lighthouse.

  Once again, Ryan watched her walk. It might be time to have a talk with Jack. Until he did, he needed to keep his mind on other things. “Why’d you decide to come to Traverse City for the summer?”

  “I have a plan.” She looked over her shoulder with a grin on her face.

  “What kind of plan?”

  Callie kept walking. Maybe she hadn’t heard him. Ryan was just about to repeat himself when she stopped beside the deck and turned to face him. “I’m going to take Kyle back.”

  Ryan’s feet refused to keep moving. He stood in the driveway and watched Callie for any sign of teasing. “Kyle Berg?”

  “He’s the only Kyle I’ve ever dated.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Ryan urged his legs to walk. They grudgingly agreed. He focused on the ground as he walked past Callie and up the stairs. “Why the change of mind?”

  Callie sighed. “It’s a long story. I’m just glad I finally figured out what I need to do.”

  Ryan looked down at Callie. She seemed even smaller and more innocent as she stood on the lawn staring up at him. “And you need Kyle?” He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. He didn’t want to know the answer. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  “No, it’s not, but I don’t mind talking with you about it. You’re a good friend.”

  Ryan’s heart clenched. “Anything for you, Squirt.”

  He thought he saw Callie flinch, but then she smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it after I unpack.”

  Ryan whistled in the kitchen. Callie shoved her last box under the built-in desk as dishes clanked together and cupboard doors banged. She rubbed her hands over her face while her heart slammed against her chest.

  Ryan had cooked at Jack’s house before. She’d been alone with Ryan before. This whole situation had happened a dozen times before. Why was her heart acting weird this time?

  She didn’t have time to figure it out. From somewhere near the bed, a muffled version of “Walk the Line” interrupted the silence. Jack’s ring tone. She shifted her bags and clothes as she searched for the phone. The song kept playing. As the verse neared the end, she groaned and pushed all of her bags off the bed. A pillow fell over in the mayhem, and she spotted the phone. Callie answered as Johnny Cash admitted he was a fool.

  “Jack, where are you? Will you be home soon? Ryan’s here. He helped me move, and now he’s cooking dinner—”

  “Stop!”

  Callie clamped her jaw shut. Her heart still thumped.

  “This is going to take longer than I thought, and I’m going to need your help.”

  “But I just got here. My stuff is still packed.”

  “I know, but you wanted to be my assistant.”

  There was a knock at the door. Callie looked up. Ryan stood in the doorway with an apron around his waist and a smile on his face. Her heart fluttered. Stupid cardiac abnormality.

  “Are you sticking around to help with dinner?” His eyes twinkled.

  Stupid schoolgirl crush.

  “Jack’s on the phone. He needs my help. I’ve got to go.”

  “No problem. You guys can eat when you get back.” Ryan winked before he walked away.

  Callie released a breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Where should I meet you?”

  “I’ve got to get some tools. I’ll pick you up in five. We’re going to patch the outhouse roof.”

  Callie’s stomach retched. She rolled down the window to breathe some fresh air. Instead, the wind whipped through the cab, stirring up the stench. As the smell intensified, she realized it was coming from her. She leaned toward the fresh air, practically hanging out the window. “That was disgusting.”

  Jack chuckled. “I can’t believe you slipped in dog poop.” He pulled into the driveway and parked next to her compact car.

  Callie looked at him. His skin glistened with sweat. Soggy curls hung out from under his ball cap. His dirty clothes were still dirty. He looked like a hardworking man. She looked at herself in the side mirror and sighed. She looked like a hardworking man too.

  An angry tree branch had yanked half of the hair out of her ponytail when she helped Jack replace some missing shingles. The rest of her head featured twigs, leaves, and dirt, as well as a scratch on the skin above her right eye where the tree had continued to attack her. It stung as the sweat rolled down her face. There was blood on her t-shirt, a snag in her shorts, and Fido’s little present on her shoes, socks, and—she suspected—the back of her shorts. “How did you escape unscathed while I look like this?”

  “I don’t know, but you look awful.”

  “Thanks. I smell even better.”

  “Maybe it’ll work better if I have you mow lawns.” He jumped out of the truck. She followed. They trudged toward the house together.

  “I’ll pass. I mowed plenty in high school.”

  “Too bad you’re not the boss.”

  “You’d really make me mow lawns?”

  “Yes. It’ll build character.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. If she wasn’t so worried about her job, she’d quit on the spot, but she needed this. Plus, he was giving her free lodging and the occasional meal. She couldn’t afford to pay rent if she wasn’t working. Besides, this job was part of her plan. She needed to stick with the plan.

  The dirty pair stepped into the kitchen and Callie sighed. Ryan stood at the sink and smiled.

  Definitely not part of the plan.

  BANG! Callie jumped, her heart thundering as she sat up and tried to figure out where she was. Her eyes slowly adjusted. Thumps, scratching, and bumps filled the air as she focused in the darkness. She finally spotted the glaring red numbers of her alarm clock—5:15 a.m.

  Callie groaned. She’d only been asleep for two hours, since a young couple of lovers had decided to express their feelings for each other on the beach near her window. She rubbed her hands across her face and neck as she tried to push away the exhaustion, not to mention the memories of the couple. That wouldn’t have been so bad if the group of drunk college kids hadn’t woken her up two hours previously with their whooping and singing.

  How did Jack function like this?

  Another crash startled her. She listened for Jack’s footsteps. He must have heard the banging. A breeze danced into the room, stirring the curtains and shuffling some papers on the nightstand, but nothing—and no one else—moved.

  Fine. Callie swung her legs off the bed. If Jack wouldn’t investigate, she would.

  Early morning light illuminated her room enough to help her grab an older shirt and shorts from her closet. Too tired to worry about shoelaces, she slid on a pair of sandals as she shuffled out of the room. She knew the inside of the lighthouse well enough to avoid the furniture without having to turn on any lights, so she slipped through the house unnoticed, not that the lights would wake up Jack or Ryan. Nothing seemed to bother them.

  Stopping in the doorwa
y between the dining room and living room, Callie waited. Where was the noise coming from? The shuffling and bumping noises seemed to float in through the front window. And, was that chattering? What was going on out there?

  Making her way through the kitchen, Callie grabbed Jack’s giant Maglite flashlight off the refrigerator. It would help her see clearly if she ended up in the woods and would make a hefty club if she needed one.

  Callie stepped into the cool, damp morning air. A bubbly layer of dew covered the earth, streaking across the car windows and dampening the deck. Only the frogs, crickets, and birds said hello. She didn’t see any cars beside hers, Jack’s, and Ryan’s. So, who was talking? Maybe she’d imagined it.

  The dumpster shook.

  Callie jumped. She took a step closer, her eyes never leaving the rusting metal bin. Sure enough, it seemed to vibrate, then move. Her pulse sped up as she walked over, her feet soaked with dew and her palms slick with nervous sweat.

  Someone screamed from inside the dumpster.

  Was there actually a person in there? A different fear propelled her forward, desperate to help however she could. Callie ran to the blue container and threw back the lid.

  “Argh!”

  She dropped the flashlight as she smothered her mouth with her hands. Two frustrated-looking raccoons hissed at her as they paced across the trash, one clawing at the side. It didn’t take long to figure out why there were causing such a scene. Their weight pressed the garbage bags down so low they couldn’t climb back out. They must have climbed the fence to get in, but now they were stuck. Well, she’d let Jack handle them.