by Stacey Wilk
A crowd pushed their way to the baggage carousel. Mothers dragging children, fathers staking their space out to grab their bags first. Young couples checking messages.
There he was, and Blaise’s breath caught in his throat. It didn’t matter how much time went by or how many fights they had over the phone. Every time he saw his boy, it was like the first time he held him in his arms. He was afraid to be a father then, and he was afraid to be a father now, but his heart swelled with pride as his son sauntered through the crowd.
Cash’s hair was shaved on the sides and bleached on top. He wore more black eyeliner than some women did. He dressed completely in black, his jeans with rips in them, and a bunch of black bracelets up his arm. The telltale white wires every teen dangled from their ears plugged up Cash’s. Blaise hated those damn things.
Cash had filled out since Blaise saw him last. He wasn’t all arms and legs as he had been. His graphic T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders. He’d grown taller too. Cash must be close to Blaise’s six feet. Other than sharing looks, they didn’t share much else. Cash didn’t want to play music, even though he could. Blaise had tried to encourage him, but it never stuck.
Blaise pushed away from the wall. He took a deep breath and shook out his hands. The left one protested, but he ignored the pain. “Cash.”
Cash turned in the direction of his voice. A smile crept across his face but stopped as if it had never been there. He nodded his salutation instead and grabbed his bag off the carousel.
Cash stood before him. The hint of mint and spice drifted in his direction. Was that cologne or gum? There was only one reason for a teenage boy to wear cologne. Blaise shook his head. He wasn’t ready to believe Cash might be having sex.
“Hey.” Cash stuck out his hand.
He grabbed it and pulled him into a hug, but Cash kept his arms down at his side. Blaise pushed away with heat in his cheeks. “How was your flight?” He tried to grab for Cash’s bag.
“Fine. I got this.” Cash nodded at his bum hand.
“It’s not that bad. I can take your bag.” He reached for it.
Cash switched hands. “I got it.”
He wasn’t going to make this easy. “Let’s get out of here. You want to get some lunch?”
“Nah. I ate on the plane.”
“If you change your mind, I’ve got some food back at the house. And your room is all set.”
That was met with Cash staring into his phone as they crossed the parking lot. Blaise wanted to tell him to put the phone down. He hoped for a chance to talk to his son and try to mend some fences, but he didn’t want to sound like a hard-ass two minutes in. Cash followed him out to the truck, never saying a word.
“How was school?” He tried another approach as Cash dumped his bag in the back.
“Sucked.”
“High school usually does. But you graduated. Aren’t you happy about that?” Melissa had told Blaise to stay home. Don’t fly out for graduation. Cash didn’t want him there. The words hurt, but he gave his son his wish. He had been wrong. He should’ve gone.
Cash stared out the window as they sped down the highway. The truth of his not being there for so many important things shoved its way between them. He had let too many chances to be a father slip by. Could he make up for it in one summer? Not by the scowl on Cash’s face.
“What are you going to make me do while I’m staying with you?”
He didn’t want to talk about that yet. He still needed time to decide. “For starters, we’re having dinner at Aunt Savannah’s tonight. The rest we’ll figure out.”
“Great. Can’t wait.” Cash shoved the earbuds in and turned to look out the window again.
It was a long ride back to the house.
Chapter Eight
“How long do we have to stay?” Cash hesitated but forced himself out of the front seat of the truck.
They’d arrived at Savannah’s with not more than a grunt between them. Blaise tried to broach the topic of the fire, but every time he tried, the words died in his throat. He vowed to have better conversation during dinner. They could talk about the fire later. Savannah would be able to bridge some of the gap tonight. He needed all the help he could get.
The smell of beef on the grill came out to meet them in the driveway. Even though the sun wouldn’t set for hours, she had left the front porch lights on. It was Savannah’s way of letting you know you were welcome.
The wood planks of the front porch creaked under his boots. Wearing boots and jeans in this summer heat was a pretty stupid thing to do. He should’ve thought about that before he left. Instead, he had found himself thinking about his new neighbor. When would she be back to start fixing up her house? The house given to her as a gift. Who does that kind of thing?
Savannah’s porch was an extension of her warmth. On either side of the double-glass front doors were two sets of wood-slat chairs complete with pillows to lean against if the planks were too hard on your back. And each set of chairs met an oriental rug to curl your toes in.
“We stay until I say it’s time to go. And where did you get that?”
Cash had pulled out a gold lighter engraved with the letter S and flicked the top back and forth, making the flame dance.
“It was Grandpa’s. What’s the big deal?”
“You have to ask me that? Put it away.”
Blaise poked the doorbell with his bad hand and balanced a peach cobbler he’d picked up from Maybelline’s on the way over in his good one.
Cash shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Is Jud going to be here?”
“Probably. He does live here.”
“I know he lives here, Dad.” Cash punctuated each word with a snarl. “I was hoping he had plans or something.”
Before he could answer, Savannah swung open the door. “You’re here.” She yanked Cash and folded him in a big hug. “My goodness, you are all grown up.” She released him, looking up, and grabbed his face. “As handsome as ever. Come in. Come in.”
Cash snuck past her, but before Blaise could take a step, she planted a kiss on his cheek and slid the peach cobbler from his grip. “He looks great, but he needs a haircut and a little makeup remover,” she whispered. She stepped back. “How are you doing?”
He ignored the comments about Cash’s appearance. “It’s only been one day. We haven’t had a chance to kill each other yet. Give us time.”
“Nonsense. You’re going to be great together. Let’s go out in the back. Adam has the steaks on the grill.”
“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
She had set the table for seven and surrounded it with white wicker chairs. Fresh flowers, probably from her garden, in purples and pinks decorated the center, and she matched the place mats and napkins in the same pinks and purples. Even the glasses were purple.
“How often do I get to see my favorite nephew?”
“I’m your only nephew, Aunt Savannah,” Cash said with a smile. This had been their joke since he was five.
“Uncle Blaise.” Caroline dropped her hula-hoop and came running.
“Do we still hug?” He didn’t know the rules with twelve-year-old girls, and he suspected they always changed. Cash certainly had.
“You bet.” She threw her arms out, and he reached down to hug her. She smelled like bubble gum.
Adam, wearing his Chefs Do It Better at the Grill apron, left his post. “Good to see you, Blaise.” His shake was firm and strong. “Dinner’s almost done. Cash, how was the trip out?”
“Fine.”
“What’s your plans for the summer?”
“Adam, let’s talk about that later.” Savannah swooped in with pasta salad in a glass bowl. She’d made deviled eggs, corn on the cob, brussel sprouts, and a salad.
“You’re going to say no, but can I help you with anything?” Blaise stepped out of her way.
“No.” She rearranged some of the food on the table to make room for her pasta.
“You made too mu
ch food.” Blaise swiped a carrot from the salad and popped it in his mouth.
“For three teenaged boys, Adam, and you? I think not.” She walked inside and shouted. “Grey, Jud, dinner. Now.”
“Looks like Jud is here.” Blaise handed a carrot to Cash, but Cash pushed it away.
“Whatever.” Cash dropped into the chair on the end. “Sit here.” He pointed to the chair next to him.
Cash might only want him to be a buffer from Jud, but he’d take what he could get. “Give him a chance.” But he knew that would never happen.
“Hey, Uncle Blaise.” Grey stepped outside through the kitchen doors and high-fived him. He wore the typical fourteen-year-old teenage uniform of athletic shorts and T-shirt. Complete with bare feet and cuts and scrapes up his legs. “I didn’t know you were coming, Cash.” Grey took a step toward Cash, but the permanent scowl on Cash’s face probably stopped him. To Blaise’s surprise, Grey dropped into the chair next to Cash. “Did you graduate? Cause I heard you weren’t going to.”
“Greyson Montgomery.” Savannah glared at her middle child.
“Sorry.” Grey tucked his head.
“Yeah, I graduated.”
“Cool. So did Jud.”
“Greyson, did you wash your hands?” Savannah slapped Grey’s hand away from the deviled eggs. She pointed to the kitchen, and he retreated.
Blaise had been at Jud’s graduation because it was in town, he had been back in Heritage River, and Savannah had insisted. She had told him to go to Cash’s, even though Melissa told him to stay home. Savannah had been right. Blaise looked across the yard to the forgotten swing-set. His chest tightened knowing he’d missed his son’s graduation. He had a lot of making up to do. His son torched a house because he sucked as a father.
Jud glided out onto the patio. Blaise could never get over how he saw Savannah in Jud’s face. Genetics freaked him out. His hair was windblown in all the right places. He wore a buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, fitted shorts, and those boat shoes that must’ve come back in style because Blaise had a pair when he was that age.
He knew how good Jud’s grades were. He also knew about the awards, the community service his mother encouraged him to complete, the student council he ran, and the colleges that wanted him. Was it any wonder Cash was trying to disappear inside the collar of his shirt?
“Uncle Blaise.” Jud fist-bumped him. “How’s the hand?”
“Better. Thanks.”
Jud walked past Cash without so much as a hello and joined his dad at the grill. Had Savannah told him what happened? Or was it still the argument from Christmas? That day had ended badly, and even when Blaise had tried to get Cash to stay through the first of January or to come for a visit after, he wanted no part of it. Christmas was probably the reason Melissa told him not to come to graduation.
He wanted to get up and drag Jud back. Make him say hello to Cash. Force these two boneheads to let the past be the past. But he sat, unsure of how to handle things. What was the right advice to give his son? At Cash’s age, would he have stood up to Colton? Probably not. He had a hard time standing up to Colton now.
He leaned in and whispered to Cash, “Don’t let him bother you.”
“He doesn’t.” Cash shoved his earbuds in.
Blaise placed a hand on Cash’s arm. “Can you do that later? We’re guests here.”
Cash yanked them out again. A small victory Blaise didn’t think would last.
The dinner went off without any trouble. Silverware clanked against the plates. Glasses were refilled, and laughter sang like a choir. Blaise’s shoulders dropped just a little, and for the first time all night, he thought he might be able to make the summer with Cash work.
“So, Blaise”—Savannah pierced a piece of meat and hovered it near her mouth—“I wanted to ask you something.”
“You’re in trouble, Dad. Aunt Savannah’s got that look in her eye.”
Whatever Savannah wanted would be fine with him just to see that smile on Cash’s face and hear the teasing in his voice. “What’s up?”
“Now that you’re going to be here for a while, I was wondering if you’d play at the library’s fundraiser next month.” She popped the steak in her mouth and stuck out her chin, daring him to say no.
He held up his bad hand. “Can’t exactly play the drums right now.”
“I know you can’t play the drums. Play guitar instead.” She held up a hand to stop the protests he was about to drop. “I know you’re hurt, but I also know you’ve been playing. Just a few songs. It would really help us sell tickets, and if this fundraiser is a success, we can get those computers we desperately need. What do you say, Blaise? Help save the library you rode your bike to as a kid. The place where you kissed Maryellen Thorpe between the racks.”
Laughter and a few oohs hit the air.
“She kissed me, and it was the third grade.”
Savannah stared him down. She wasn’t going to give up. If he said no tonight, she’d just call him tomorrow and ask again. His hand could manage to run up and down the neck of a guitar. Maybe he could play some of his new stuff, and if the crowd liked it, he could sell the idea of new music to Colton.
“Surprise.” Shouted a voice from behind him. A voice that came through the kitchen. A voice that wouldn’t have to knock.
“Colton.” Savannah jumped from her seat and ran over to her older brother.
Cash was fast on her heels. Colton pulled Cash into a tight hug, and Cash grabbed him back and held on. Colton pushed away first but kept his hands on Cash’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “It’s good to see you, kid. I got that video you sent me. That was some cool stuff.”
What video?
But he didn’t ask because Jud edged his way over and stood to the side. Colton patted Jud on the back, and then Caroline and Grey shoved their way in between to steal hugs from their uncle. Colton scooped Caroline up in the air and swung her around. She squealed.
“Uncle C, are you staying at the house with me and Dad?” Cash asked.
“Maybe for just one night if your old man will let me.” Colton fixed his gaze on him.
“I can put up with you for one night.”
Savannah plied Colton with food and got him up to speed on the conversation before his arrival. “It would be a sold-out show if both Savage brothers played at my event.”
“No way,” Colton said. “I’m not playing at some library fundraiser. What would that look like?”
“Like you gave a shit.” Blaise realized what he just said. “Pardon me, Miss Caroline Montgomery, miss.” He resurrected his old southern drawl and tipped his imaginary hat. Caroline giggled.
“Honestly, with that mouth,” Savannah said.
But she wasn’t too mad. He’d heard her say worse. Of course, not in front of her daughter.
“That means you’ll do it, Blaise? You’ll play?”
“I didn’t say that. Let me think about it.” He’d backed himself into a corner.
“I think you should do it, Dad. It’s for a good cause.”
“I’ll do it if you’ll play with me.” His words sidelined Cash. The color drained from his face. “You said it yourself, it’s a good cause.”
Cash dropped his napkin on the table and stood. “No thanks. I don’t play much.”
“You going someplace?” Blaise pointed to the chair.
Savannah jumped in. “Cash, we could use some volunteers at the library this summer. I think that will cover your community service time.”
“You want me to work with books?”
“How soon can he start?” Blaise said.
“Tomorrow.” Savannah shoved a piece of lettuce in her mouth. Her knowing eyes said it all.
“No way, I’m not doing it. I hate books.”
“You’re doing it,” Blaise said.
Savannah passed Blaise the brussel sprouts. “See you at the fundraiser.”
Chapter Nine
What had she done? Grace tur
ned in circles in the kitchen of the Disaster House. She’d handed the keys of her old house to Larry, deposited his check for his half of the house, put most of her things in storage, and driven down to Heritage River. Panic climbed up inside her skin while she stood in the kitchen.
The floor would need to be sanded. Beau had said the cabinets would need to be torn out. He’d take everything in here down to the studs.
“It will be beautiful, Miss Grace.” He insisted on calling her Miss Grace. While the salutation was sweet, she felt like a preschool teacher.
And he was still looking for help with the job. His old crew had gone on to other work since he let them go. “Yours is my last job. I was about to go into retirement when Miss Dixie called and told me about you. Said you were a client of Hoke’s. Now, I couldn’t turn away someone like that. I’d never hear the end of it at poker on Friday nights.”
He promised he’d have things done by September. “If we ain’t done by the time your girl goes off to that school of hers, I’ll hold the fort down while you see her off. Then you come right back here, and we’ll finish the job. Have you out of Heritage River in no time.”
And that’s exactly what she wanted.
But in the meantime, she’d search for the person who gave her this house. Dixie had the cable company come in and install the internet and update the wires for the televisions while she was back in Silverside.
Grace set up a makeshift office of a card table and chair in the living room where she could look out at the poplar tree and the activities of the street.
Beau wasn’t due to start until tomorrow. That would give her plenty of time to try to get some information. She said a silent prayer for modern technology. Otherwise, this search would have her at the county hall of records, buried in oversized books and dust.
The search didn’t reveal much. The public records site listed her as the current owner of the house. The owners prior to her were a Mr. and Mrs. John and Nancy Templeton. They bought the house in 1964 and sold it just a few short months ago to Grace. Well, to Grace’s gift giver.
Grace searched for information on John and Nancy Templeton. She found an obituary for John dating back to 1987, which stated he was survived by his wife and his sister. No children. And no word on where Nancy Templeton was.