Summer Plans and Other Disasters

by Karin Beery

  The smaller raccoon shuffled away, and Callie’s heart sank as it ran across Jack’s Maglite. Jack loved that thing. She had to get the flashlight! But first, she had to get the raccoons out.

  Not exactly sure what she should do, Callie ran back to the house. In the kitchen, she grabbed some sliced cheese out of the fridge and Jack’s keys off the counter, then ran out to the garage. She let herself in and scanned her options. Paint, tools, boxes, half-finished projects. There, in the corner. Jack’s scrap box. Several tall pieces of wood stuck out and leaned against the wall. Sorting through the boards, she finally found one that would work, about six inches wide and an inch thick. She pulled it out and stood it on the floor in front of her—about four feet long. It could work.

  With the keys and cheese in one hand and the board under her other arm, Callie hauled everything out to the dumpster and leaned the board against the fence. She tossed the keys on the ground before ripping up some cheese and tossing pieces on the plank. Then she slid the board into the dumpster, careful to lean it against the corner closest to the fence. One of the raccoons hissed. She dropped the plank on the edge of the dumpster and ran to the safety of the garage door.

  A chipmunk ran along the edge of the fence. Two squirrels chased each other across the parking lot. The raccoons, however, were in no apparent hurry. Callie leaned against the doorframe until the edge cut into her shoulder. She didn’t have a watch on, so she wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she didn’t care. Her patience had expired. Maybe she should grab some lunchmeat to lure them out. She was just about ready to go back to the house when the board moved.

  Callie held her breath as the edge of the board slid left. She gripped the doorknob, ready to rip it off in frustration, but then the wood wedged itself in the corner. Ten agonizing heartbeats later, the first bandit popped his head out over the edge of the dumpster. After some maneuvering, they were both up the board and climbing onto the nearby fence. Without so much as a thank you, the raccoons took their cheese and ran into the woods.

  Callie’s shoulders sagged with relief. The dumpster was raccoon-less, and she hadn’t needed Jack or Ryan to help her figure it out. Now she could grab the flashlight and get back to bed. She actually whistled on her way over to the dumpster.

  Pulling out the board, she leaned in. The Maglite had been along the closest wall. Where was it? Oh no. It must have fallen down when the raccoons were moving around. Picking the board back up, she used it to poke around, moving the bags so she could see. There! In the back, near the fence. Perfect. She could use the fence for leverage.

  Tossing the board to the ground, she inspected the white pickets for a good foothold. She grabbed the edge of the dumpster and cringed at the slimy texture. She’d have to sanitize her hands later. Until then, she pushed herself up and leaned into the stinky container. The cold metal edge pushed into her stomach as she stretched down. Her fingertips brushed the end of the flashlight, but she wasn’t close enough. She made sure her foot was locked in place before shimmying her hips forward. She stretched again. Almost. A little bit further. Just a half an inch.

  Something popped.

  Callie’s naked foot flew up as she tilted forward. She kicked out. Where was the fence? Her shirt pulled tighter. Callie gasped. She pushed out her arms as the bags came closer. Callie covered her head as wet, lumpy plastic crunched beneath her.

  Callie collapsed on the floor. Her bedroom had brightened enough that she could identify every blue frill and bauble. Embroidered Bible verses in various shades of blue filled frames that cluttered the walls. A pile of lacy blue and white pillows tried to creep out of the closet where she’d stuffed them. As the sun continued to brighten the room, the paisley wallpaper lightened from gray to gray-blue to blue-gray. It wouldn’t matter how much sunshine spilled into the room though. It couldn’t cut through the overcast color of the 1980s wallpaper. If she believed in omens, she’d be in trouble.

  As she started to relax into the thick carpet, Callie sucked in a deep breath and gagged. Something warm and gooey had soaked into her shirt, and it reeked. She sighed. “I hate this job.”

  Pushing herself up and off the floor, her foot slipped, throwing her to the ground as her leg crashed into a stack of boxes. Two of them. Something cracked. Callie stifled a scream as she grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at the closet. “I hate this job!”

  Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed her robe off the floor and stomped her way to the shower for the second time in less than twelve hours. In Jack’s new office, she plowed into Ryan. Callie stumbled backwards, Ryan steadied her with one warm hand.

  “Are you okay?” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his free hand. His hair stood up, and his clothes were wrinkled. At least they were on even ground this time.

  “I’m fine. I tripped.” She shrugged off his hand and marched past him.

  “It’s six o’clock, Cal.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  She stopped at the bathroom door, her teeth locked together. “I know.”

  “Why are you awake?”

  “Seriously?” When she turned to call him on his lie, he raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t hear it?”

  “Hear what?”

  “The drunks at one o’clock?”

  He shook his head.

  “The, uh ... couple at three?”

  Ryan cocked his head.

  She pointed out the window. “The raccoons thirty minutes ago? You really didn’t hear that?”

  “What raccoons?”

  “The ones fighting in the dumpster, which is why I’m wearing something goopy on my shirt.”

  Ryan’s eyes widened. He took a step closer. “You went into the dumpster to chase out two coons?”

  Callie crossed her arms. “No, I’m not stupid. But I might have lifted the lid to look in and dropped Jack’s new Maglite.”

  He smiled. “And that’s why you went dumpster diving.”

  “He’d probably send me back to Alma if I lost that thing.” Callie shook her head. “I need to be here this summer. I need to talk to Kyle.”

  The smile faltered on Ryan’s face before his mouth stretched into a vacuous yawn. “I’m going to head back to bed. Try not to kill yourself before Jack gets up. He’d miss you.”

  Callie watched him shuffle into his bedroom. Even on an early Saturday morning, he moved beautifully. She turned toward the bathroom and stubbed her toe on the door frame. It wasn’t fair.

  Ryan’s door clicked shut, so Callie closed herself in the bathroom. She gasped when she saw herself in the mirror. Some leftover mascara blackened her eyes, making her look like the varmints she’d chased from the trash. Ryan hadn’t said a word.

  Too tired to worry about it, she turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. Whatever happened next, at least she’d be clean and flower-scented.

  Ryan stared at the ceiling. He had heard the raccoons too. Then he heard Callie open her door and stomp through the house. That memory made him smile. It never made sense that a concert pianist with superior hand-eye coordination could be so awkward at home, but it was one of the many quirks he liked about Callie.

  Did Kyle like that about her?

  Ryan measured his breaths. He didn’t really care what Kyle thought about Callie. His own thoughts about her were confusing enough. As soon as Jack had said she was coming, Ryan knew the summer would be rough. It had potential, lots of potential, but it also had Kyle. How would that affect things?

  The bathroom door squeaked open then banged against the wall. Ryan chuckled. He always liked seeing Callie. He just hoped he could convince her it was as good to see him.

  “Squirt, you up yet?”

  Callie ignored Jack’s bellowing as she sat in the dining nook and took another bite of cereal. She checked her phone again for missed calls. Nothing. She dropped th
e annoying device into her purse. Her brother’s footsteps echoed on the stairs as he descended into the dining room.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “Eating breakfast.”

  “Nobody eats in here.”

  “You should. There’s a table. It’s convenient.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Fine.”

  He kicked her foot. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m tired.” Callie looked up. She couldn’t tell if Jack was wearing the same clothes he had on the day before, but he’d definitely slept in them. She shook her head. “I didn’t sleep well last night. This is a busy place.”

  “You’ll get used to it. I’m going into town to run errands today. Want to come?”

  Callie looked at her bowl of Fruit Loops. “Can we go grocery shopping?”

  “Sure.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Late this morning. I have some stuff to do first. We’ll probably be in town most of the afternoon. I’ve got a lot of stops to make.”

  An afternoon in town. Callie grinned. “We don’t have to work today?”

  Jack shook his head. “Not here. Too many tourists. It’s easier to get things done during the week.”

  “Then what are you doing this morning?”

  “I have some furniture to finish, then—”

  Callie’s purse buzzed, and she launched herself at the bag. She held her breath and dug for the phone. Her hand touched it, and Callie froze. What if it wasn’t Kyle? She couldn’t look. She had to. She wanted to. Summoning her courage, she pulled out the phone.

  “Mom.” Callie tried to ignore the million pieces of her heart that scattered in her chest.

  Jack reached out and ruffled her hair. “He’ll call.”

  Callie straightened her hair as she answered. “Hi, Mom.”

  “You didn’t call.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “It’s good to talk to you too.”

  “I was worried about you. What if you’d been in an accident?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. What are you doing up so early?”

  “Your father. He wanted to beat the crowds at the Home Depot.”

  “At five o’clock?”

  Her mom sighed. “It takes him some time to wake up in the morning, you know that.”

  “Is he keeping you awake?”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll have him take me to breakfast. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t lying on the side of the road bleeding to death.”

  Callie chuckled. “I’m alive and well.”

  “Hi, Ruth.”

  Callie jumped at the sound of Ryan’s voice. “How did you know it’s my mom?”

  “Who’s there?” her mother asked.

  Ryan winked. “I can sense these things.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “It’s Ryan.”

  “We’ll leave at ten,” said Jack. “Don’t make me wait.”

  “Let me talk to him,” said her mom.

  Callie looked at her phone. She shook her head then looked at Ryan. “My mom wants to talk to you.”

  He smiled. “Of course she does. I’m practically family.” He took her phone, trailing his fingers across hers, sending ripples across her skin.

  Practically family? Callie sighed. No one else in the family had ever made her feel like that.

  “Oh my gosh, who’s controlling the air conditioner?”

  Jack rolled his eyes as he followed his sister into the grocery store. He barely noticed a difference, but Callie rubbed her arms like she’d just stepped into a walk-in cooler.

  “Aren’t you freezing?” She spun around to face him and shoved her forearm under his nose. “My hair’s already standing up. If I get any colder it might just fall off.”

  “Try not to let that happen. I don’t want to have to clean it up.” Jack sidestepped past her to grab a cart. “Come on. Let’s make this quick.”

  As soon as they started walking, Callie started yammering about something, but Jack tuned her out. He could tell by her tone it wasn’t urgent. Instead, he focused on the thumping of his work boots on over buffed linoleum.

  Thump, thump, thump through the bread aisle.

  Thump, thump, thump past the crackers.

  Jack focused on the rhythm of his steps, trying to synchronize them to his sister’s chatter. Between his efforts to ignore Callie while keeping a beat, he didn’t notice the stack of boxes until his shopping cart plowed into them. Someone popped up from behind the cardboard and grabbed the top box before it dropped.

  Stacey Chapman. The short, spastic blonde from church.

  She smiled at him. Everything stopped.

  The short, spastic, pretty blonde from church.

  “Hi, Jack!” After replacing the falling box, she stepped closer. Standing there in her tennis shoes, she barely came up to his arm pits. She wasn’t any taller than a kid.

  Jack nodded. “Hey, Stacey.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Uh, shopping?”

  Her neck instantly turned pink. He’d never seen anything like it. Her eyes widened, and Jack bit back a smile.

  She scratched her arm. “Yeah, I guess I should have figured that out. Do you need any help finding anything?”

  “We’re good.”

  “Maybe you are, but they’ve moved everything since I’ve been here.” Callie stepped up beside him. She had to look down at Stacey too.

  “You must be Jack’s sister.” Stacey stuck out her hand, and Callie accepted it. “I’m Stacey. We go to the same church.”

  Jack sighed. “Come on, Cal. I can show you around.”

  Callie’s fist slammed into his shoulder. “Don’t be rude. I wouldn’t mind some help.”

  Stacey smiled even bigger. It made her eyes shine, but it wasn’t her eyes that captured his attention. He watched as Stacey’s small hand slipped from his sister’s grip then patted his forearm. The delicate fingers were soft, warm, and pale against his tanned skin. Something about it made him want to wrap them in his hand and hold them close.

  That made him want to run. “Why don’t you two shop together?” he said. “I know what I need to get. Get yourself a cart, and we can meet up front in ten minutes. We probably shouldn’t stay longer than that—”

  “Jack?”

  “What?”

  Callie’s eyebrows were buried somewhere near her hairline. “Are you okay?”

  “Stacey Chapman to the service desk, please. Stacey Chapman to the service desk.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got to go.” Stacey slipped past the grocery cart as Jack hid behind it. She waved at them. “Maybe next time. It was so nice to meet you.”

  Callie waved. “You too.” As soon as Stacey turned her back, Callie glared at Jack. When Stacey disappeared around a corner, Callie hit her brother again. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Jack glanced down the empty aisle. He took a deep breath. “Nothing. I’m fine. Let’s shop.”

  Stacey hustled to the service desk, her legs moving as quickly as her heartbeat. Why did she have to see him here? Why couldn’t he have wandered into the salon, or maybe the art studio? Anything was better than her part-time stocking job. Stacey looked down at her green vest and cringed.

  “What can I do for you, Peggy?” she asked as she approached the service desk. When she leaned against the green Formica counter, it blended in with her vest. Great. She looked like the grocery store.

  The manager snorted. “Lee called. He’s going to be late. Can you stay until he gets here?”

  Stacey shook her head. “He’s never on time. Everyone knows that. I can stay an hour, but then I have to leave. Next time, schedule him earlier.”

  “I’ll consider it.” Peggy stapled some papers together. “I’ll talk with Lee about it tonight.
”

  Peggy might have said something else, but Stacey didn’t notice. She was too busy watching the tall, leggy brunette pushing a cart around the corner.

  Jack’s sister was gorgeous. No wonder he never noticed Stacey’s stocky frame. He’d grown up with an Amazon beauty at home. He probably thought Stacey looked like an elf.

  “Stacey.”

  “Huh?”

  Peggy sighed. “Never mind. Go back to work.”

  “What?” Stacey turned her attention back to the service desk. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  “Just get back to work. Find me when you go on break.”

  “Thanks.” Stacey flashed her boss a smile before heading toward the canned goods aisle. She tried to concentrate on the floor, but she couldn’t fight the temptation to look around the store for Jack. She was one aisle away from her stocking station when she spotted Callie rushing toward her.

  “Hey!” The giant waved. “Have you seen my brother?”

  Stacey’s neck heated up. “Uh, no. Did you check the meat counter?”

  Callie smiled. “You know Jack well. I’ll leave him back there. I’m looking for some bulgur. Do you know if you have any?”

  “Bulgur … is that a health food?” For once in her life Stacey was glad she was already blushing. Callie’s presence made her feel short and dowdy. Having to admit that she didn’t even know what Callie ate made Stacey feel inadequate too. If the weight of embarrassment could crush her, it would take less than three inches to put Stacey under five feet tall. Then she’d have to shop in the girls’ department. Again.

  A hand waved in front of her eyes, and Stacey snapped back to attention. “Sorry. My mind wanders.”

  “Can it wander us over to health food?”

  “Sure. This way.” Stacey took the lead, striding ahead of Callie’s empty cart. “How long have you been in town?”

  “Just a day.”

  “And you’re already sick of Jack’s food?”

  “There’s not a lot to eat if you want more than meat and potatoes.”

  “And beans. I can’t believe how much chili those guys eat.” Stacey slowed down at the last aisle. “Here you go. There’s not a lot, but we have a decent variety.”