Summer Plans and Other Disasters

by Karin Beery

  Not that it had been a rough night, per se. Everything about the evening had been lovely—the perfect, friendly night out. Not part of the plan but not terrible. She’d been thinking about what happened all night though, and she still didn’t have any clarity. Maybe she needed a new perspective.

  She pulled her phone out of the hoodie pouch and punched at the screen. R u up yet?

  A frog croaked.

  The phone dinged.

  Yep. Baby’s boxing with my bladder. What’s up?

  Callie didn’t bother trying to spell it out. She hit Mae’s speed dial and waited.

  “You’re up early.” Mae yawned. “I’d still be sleeping if I didn’t have to share organ space with my son.”

  “‘Still sleeping’ would imply that I ever fell asleep.”

  Mae gasped. “Calista Marie, are you just getting home?”

  “No, of course not. I’ve been here all night. I just haven’t been sleeping.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Mae!”

  Her friend laughed. “I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. So, tell me—what happened?”

  Callie rehashed the date, from the invitation to the pick-up to the amazing performance to the drop-off at her car. She included every detail while leaving out as much emotion as she could. By the time she finished, the sun had climbed a bit higher, heating her chest and shoulders.

  Mae hummed. “Sounds like a fun evening. What did I miss?”

  “Nothing. It was just me, Kyle, and his co-workers, all hanging out. Part of the gang.” After a second’s pause, Callie heard Mae’s slow exhale.

  “Oh, no.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It wasn’t a date?”

  “Not a date.”

  “Callie …”

  “One of the gang.” Callie sighed. “Just friends.”

  Saying that sounded so final. Her greatest fear vocalized. She looked up, searching for the disaster that was bound to find her. A seagull with the stomach flu? A stray Frisbee blowing in from down shore? With all of her bad luck thus far, surely something miserable was about to happen.

  Instead, the sun moved higher. Beautiful. Blinding. Distracting.

  “I’m sorry, Cal. I don’t know what to say.” And there was Mae, pulling her back into reality.

  “Neither do I.” Callie blinked, turning away from the morning star. “I didn’t know what seeing Kyle after all of this time would be like, but I didn’t expect this.” She’d even tried to prepare herself for a beautiful redhead, for the woman Kyle might be dating. Somehow that was easier to deal with than ‘just friends.’ Those words stung like the icy bay on her skin.

  Mae cleared her throat. “Cal, will you be honest with me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Brutally honest.”

  “Um … okay?”

  “I mean I really want you to think about this. Don’t just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.”

  “I’ve got it. Honesty. Contemplation. What do you want to know?”

  “What bothers you more, that Kyle might not be interested in dating you again, or that you might be wrong about why you’re back in Traverse City?”

  Kyle. Right? But she promised to think about it, so Callie let the sun do its magic while she meditated.

  Kyle. The one-that-got-away getting away again. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the one-that-got-away, but he was definitely the one she let go and was starting to reconsider. She’d been so certain back then—absolutely confident she’d made the right decision when they broke up. The technique she’d regretted, but never the outcome.

  Was that Mae’s point? “I really do miss Kyle,” Callie said.

  “But is that why you’re so upset?”

  Of course. Sort of. Everything about Kyle was familiar. Comfortable. She looked forward to seeing him again. But if she was really honest, she felt the same way about Ryan. That thought did weird things to her pulse. “Maybe not.”

  “Good. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step.”

  Callie’s shoulders tensed. A problem? “I don’t have a problem.”

  “A compulsion then.”

  “What compulsion?”

  “You had to know what was going to happen this summer,” said Mae. “You couldn’t just come home, enjoy yourself, and let God work things out. You picked the most reasonable solution and ran with it.”

  “Because it made sense. Why is that so wrong?”

  “It’s not, honey, but everything about God doesn’t have to make sense.”

  “I know, I know. God confounds the wise.”

  “Oh, good. You’ve been listening. I don’t have to repeat the whole speech.”

  Callie sighed, thankful she wouldn’t have to sit through Mae’s therapy session again. It wasn’t the lecture that bothered Callie. But Mae always went back to the Bible, and Callie couldn’t argue with that. “I just like to be prepared.”

  “I know you do, but it’s okay to be surprised every now and then.”

  It was, but the surprise wasn’t what bothered Callie. She could handle a surprise. What really bothered her was the mistake. What if she was never supposed to be in Traverse City to begin with? If she was wrong about Kyle, maybe she was wrong about the whole summer. And if she’d misunderstood that simple command from God, what else had she messed up?

  By the time Callie came back inside, Ryan and Jack were both up and getting ready for work. Ryan went to the office. Jack insisted that he didn’t need any help, so Callie sat on the couch to read a book. Three hours later, she woke up with a crick in her neck.

  Grabbing the book from the floor, she set it on the table as she checked her phone for messages. Kyle hadn’t called, and she wasn’t really interested in calling him. No news from Jack, so he was either working in one of the parks or out in the garage. He basically only came inside to eat and sleep these days. Leaning back, she pushed aside the curtains and looked outside. The overcast skies didn’t make for good beach days, and the thought of all the tourist traffic made her want to avoid going into town.

  Grabbing the remote control, she flipped through channels. Lots of nothing to watch. There had to be a better way to pass the time. She was considering calling Mae when the front door opened.

  “Squirt! Come on out!”

  “Jack?” Callie tossed the remote onto the couch and headed outside. She got out there just in time to see Jack’s backside disappear around the far side of the garage. She’d known him long enough to follow, but she wasn’t sure if she should hustle or not. Well, if he wasn’t going to give her any clear guidance, she was going to take her time. After all, the temperature was perfect, even if the clouds were hiding the sun. By the time she reached the corner of the garage, Callie was considering moving her pity party outside. At least then, she could get some fresh air.

  She rounded the corner. Jack was rearranging boxes. “What do you need?”

  He didn’t look back, he just pointed to the opposite wall.

  Callie turned. Her piano! She ran to it and slid onto the bench, her fingers hovering over the shiny white keys. “Can I play it?”

  “You better. I took two whole days to make room for it out here.”

  Fingers trembling, she brushed the smooth keys. They begged to be teased, but before she played even one note, she ran to her brother and threw her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his back. “Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  He turned so he could hug her back. “I was sick of watching you mope around the house. Maybe now, you’ll have an outlet.” After a quick squeeze, he patted her back. “Now go play something.”

  She hadn’t brought any music with her, but she doubted her parents had touched the piano since she moved out, so she rushed back to the bench and lifted the lid. Sure enough, as
sorted books and pieces of sheet music filled the space. She grabbed the first piece of Mozart she found and sat down. Her fingers practically vibrated with excited energy as she placed her hands over the keys.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled. On the exhale, she touched the cool keys. Softly. Slowly. Chords filled the packed garage. As her fingers moved, her shoulders relaxed. Up and down. Left and right. Wave after wave of music wrapped around her. She didn’t need to look at the sheet. Her fingers instinctively knew the way as they danced across the keys. With each note, her troubles faded. The movement. The harmonies. The essence of the song reached into her heart telling her all would be okay.

  She played the final notes, then let her fingers rest on the keys, holding them in place as if she could press out another second of beauty. When she opened her eyes, Jack was leaning against the wall beside her, his arms crossed, and his head cocked to the side. He smiled at her the same way he had when she graduated from high school, and then college. Her cheeks heated.

  “You are truly talented, Squirt. I hope you make good use of that piano this summer.”

  “I will, I promise. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He mussed up her hair as he walked by. “You don’t have to thank me. Just keep playing. And maybe grill up a few steaks for dinner.”

  Jack handed Callie another black plastic bag bulging with garbage. Her nose crinkled when she grabbed the sack, but she didn’t complain. She hadn’t complained much in the past few days—since he’d delivered the piano. For the most part, she was content to work around the house, but yesterday she started asking about working with him again, so he thought he’d bring her along for garbage day.

  The smell hardly affected him anymore, but Callie plugged her nose before tossing the bag onto the pile in the back of his truck. They had a couple of hours yet before noon, then the sun would really cook the trash beyond a point that even he could handle. They had to work fast.

  “Make sure it’s on there good.” Jack pulled off his cap and examined the flimsy black tower. “We’ve got to haul these to the trash compactor. The township board won’t increase my budget, so I get the cheap bags, but I don’t trust them.” He wedged his head back into the old hat. A hair cut would probably help the cap fit better, but he’d missed his appointment when he took Callie in to get stitches. That had been a couple of weeks ago, but who had the time to reschedule?

  His sister stood on her tiptoes examining the pile, tugging and adjusting the bags. The first layer sat securely under the rest of the bags, but the top two teetered a bit. She pushed them around, then shrugged. “Drive carefully?”

  Jack chuckled. She was finally starting to sound like herself. “I’ll tie them down with some rope before we leave. Follow me.”

  He hiked through the overgrown lawn to the tiny brown maintenance shed. Someday he’d convince the board to replace the outdated structure. In the meantime, the barn doors stuck together as he yanked on the handle. When they finally creaked open, waves of stuffy hot air rushed out.

  Callie stepped up beside him. “Whoa. It’s a sauna in here.” She used the hem of her sleeveless pink shirt to wipe the sweat off her face. “Are we going to be in here long?”

  “Nope. We just need to get the mower and weed wacker.”

  She groaned.

  Jack chuckled. “I’ll use the whacker. Do you remember how to handle the mower?”

  Callie examined the massive grass-covered machine. She’d spent ten summers mowing with their dad, but this was a newer model. Better steering, more power. Bowers Harbor Park included three acres of public property. The commercial-sized Toro sported a sixty-inch deck. He’d given her a quick ride and demonstration once before, but that was two years ago. He fully expected to reexplain it all.

  Instead, Callie smacked him on the back. “I’ll figure it out.” She stepped onto the machine, plopping herself down on the cracked vinyl seat. The whole thing bounced as Callie shifted around, playing with the handles.

  Pressure started to build behind Jack’s eyes. Maybe he should mow the lawn later.

  But then Callie turned the key, firing up the engine. She smiled, giving him two thumbs up. The engine thundered in the shed. “I’ve got it!”

  Jack grabbed some ear protection from a hook on the wall and tossed them to Callie. “Be careful!”

  She snapped them over her ears and nodded, but he was sure she couldn’t hear him. He felt better for warning her, though. She waved then shifted the mower into gear.

  The pressure subsided as Jack realized he didn’t really have to worry about Callie. She easily drove the machine out and around the shed. She’d always been good with a mower. The grass would be fine.

  Jack yelled something as she rolled out of the shed, but Callie had no idea what. If it was important, he’d chase her down. She steered the mower right around the shed, getting a feel for the controls. Between the angry roaring and the bone-rattling vibrations of the engine, it took most of her concentration just to stay in the seat. After a few laps around the mud- colored building, however, her confidence peaked. She could do this.

  She took the final turn, driving straight toward Jack’s back. Callie yelled, but he wore a set of the same ugly ear muffs that she did. Her fingers strangled the control levers as she shifted and pulled to save her brother. The machine spun, but not before the edge of the deck clipped the heel of Jack’s boot. Before the mower had even stopped, Callie swiveled in the seat to make sure Jack was okay. He just stood there shaking his head.

  Callie’s shoulders relaxed.

  Jack pointed at his eyes.

  Huh?

  He took off his safety glasses and waved them at her.

  Oh, her sunglasses. She plucked them from where they hung on the collar of her shirt and tucked them behind her ears, resting comfortably on her nose. Jack gave her a thumbs-up then returned to his weed whipping. He expertly trimmed around the small barn, hacking off the weeds without damaging the building. He hadn’t let her touch the machine since she accidentally shredded the siding at their parents’ house.

  Desperate to make Jack proud, Callie turned back around and got to work. The levers moved easily with the gentlest touch. The machine glided forward. The mower-made breeze cooled her skin as she sped around the park. Acres of overgrown grass shrank in front of her as she zipped about. Finally, something she couldn’t mess up. She’d be done in no time.

  Even with the breeze, however, the late-morning sun cooked her skin. By the time she’d finished half of the lawn, sweat soaked her shirt. Her lips were cracking. Not until her tongue felt fuzzy did Callie admit the truth—she was dehydrated, and her water bottle was in the truck. Even more than her desire to finish quickly was her desire to stay out of the emergency room. No need for another trip due to heat exhaustion. She needed to get her water.

  Pulling the right handle toward her rib cage while pushing the left handle away from her, Callie turned the mower to the right. After a quick spin around, she pressed both handles forward and enjoyed the ride toward the truck.

  As she moved along, Callie admired the effects of her work. The thought of mowing for Jack had originally depressed her, but now she realized it was the one thing she could do without needing his constant supervision. That alone transformed the once tedious task into a literal carefree ride in the park. Her straight, even rows looked great.

  THUD.

  Callie jerked forward, losing her grip on the handles and sliding off the seat. She jammed her knee onto the deck, stopping her forward motion just before she slid into the back of Jack’s truck.

  Jack’s truck. Fear clogged Callie’s throat. Her face was a foot away from the rear end of her brother’s baby. How had she not seen the monster? Heat stroke and the emergency room were a better option than having to tell Jack she’d dented his truck.

  Callie jumped up and looked, expecting to see Jack running to the re
scue. She couldn’t see him anywhere. Good. He might have missed the bump.

  Dropping back onto the seat, tension seized every muscle in Callie’s body. She grabbed the controls and moved the mower back. Letting it idle, she hopped off to inspect the damage. She’d plowed right into the back passenger tire. Between the protruding hubcap and excessive rubber, however, the mower hadn’t touched the truck.

  Not a single scratch.

  “Oh, thank God.” The tension melted, and Callie pushed herself up on wobbly legs. She scanned the area again, looking for a panicked Jack. Still nothing.

  Callie collapsed onto the mower’s seat and smiled. She hadn’t failed Jack. Everything was going to be okay.

  Her arms shook as she slowly maneuvered around the back end of the truck. She could get her water bottle and get back to work. No harm done.

  When she pulled around the tailgate, she saw him. Callie’s innards wrapped around themselves. Jack walked toward her, but he didn’t look angry. He was just motioning and talking. She drove toward him to see what he wanted.

  That’s when she spotted the garbage bag on the ground. It must have rolled off the pile when she plowed into the tire. Oh, well. Jack didn’t need to know how it ended up on the ground. She’d toss the bag back up after she finished with the grass. Until then, she’d just push it out of her way.

  As she moved toward Jack, he moved faster toward her. Then he dropped the weed whacker and started running. Oh no—was something wrong? Callie hit the throttle and sped toward him.

  Then she noticed the garbage bag. It didn’t roll. It wavered and shook, then a corner disappeared under the side of the deck—

  WHOOSH!

  PLEW!

  “Callie!”

  Jack’s voice cut through the protective ear muffs as a million bits of garbage exploded into the air.

  The world stopped moving as Callie turned off the engine. What had she done? Jack stood three feet away staring at his legs. Confetti and goo clung to his skin and hair before dropping onto the ground. She swiveled around, her gut wrenching as she took in the sight. Finely chopped pieces of trash surrounded her. They covered the grass, the parking lot … and Jack’s truck. Her throat constricted. Tiny rainbow flecks covered the tires and truck bed.