Clear As Day

by Babette James

  “Life, the universe, and everything.” He winced at his glib answer.

  Kay laughed softly and slipped her arm around his waist, sending his heart into a relieved lurch. “You’re not kidding.” She sighed, squeezed a hug around him, and her body softened against his.

  They stayed embraced in companionable quiet, looking out at the dark lake and star-filled night sky.

  Kay took a long breath, and her voice came hesitantly, soft and vulnerable. “Lloyd and JoAnn are really good together, aren’t they?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I can’t believe they’re having a baby. I mean, I can’t believe it in a good way. JoAnn wanted one for so long, and now…It’s so good to see her happy.”

  “She deserves it.” JoAnn frankly awed Nate with what she had survived in her first marriage. That woman deserved everything good. And Lloyd, well, any old youthful doubts about Lloyd’s backbone and guts had been well put to rest.

  Shame swept over Nate. He’d turned out to be the one who’d never grown up, just drifted along through life here, not Lloyd.

  After a long silence, Kay hesitantly spoke again. “I was so surprised to get Christopher and Margie’s announcement. I would like to have gone to the wedding.”

  “Me, too.” Quiet Christopher had surprised them all with his whirlwind romance.

  “He didn’t even know her last year. And then—” Kay waved her hand. “Married. They looked so happy and relaxed in the wedding photo he sent me.”

  “Christopher’s quiet but steady. Margie’s what he was waiting for.”

  And I’ve been waiting for you. Come on, babe, trust me.

  “Yeah.” Her voice trailed off, and they walked on for a while in silence.

  He felt like she wanted him to give her an answer, but what was the question? That he would be strong and brave like Lloyd? Steady and sure like Chris? What more could he say? He’d already said the I love you, I want you forever. He wanted to do the love, honor and cherish promise. He believed in it. He’d made the silent promise to do his best not to fuck up. What else was there?

  Nate let the peace of the night soak into him, and focused on Kay’s slow, but steady relaxation beside him. Trusting or just tired?

  She slowed their walk to another halt, her thumb stroking over his hand. “My dad—” Her voice choked off, and she paused so long Nate thought she’d changed her mind. She took a steadying breath. “Dad used to take me on night hikes, when he didn’t go off…fishing. Sometimes we’d just sit up here in the hills for hours, watching the stars, keeping a look out for deer and burros. It was peaceful being away from the camp.”

  Bats streaked by, haphazard shadows in the dusk.

  “Grandpa Nash, his dad, took him camping when he was young, so Dad wanted to share that with my sister and me. My sister, well, she was too girly-girl to get into fishing. Actually, it was probably my dad’s friend’s fault she hates fishing. We were pretty young and gullible, and Uncle Howie was showing us how to bait hooks. He had nightcrawlers. Huge ones. He picked one worm up, dangling it in the air, and said it was too big, that the fish want nice bite-sized pieces, so he made like he bit it. Now I know he really broke it with his fingers, but boy, his acting was great. It was so funny. I so believed he’d bit that worm in half, and Claire ran shrieking off in tears to Mother that Uncle Howie ate a worm.” Kay’s chuckles rang soft and young.

  Nate joined her in the laughter. She was so beautiful with laughter lighting her face. “That’s a great story. No fishing stories so funny from my boyhood, unless you count Gabe chasing me around popping salmon egg bait at me.” He winked. “I deny all rumors of how his shorts got filled with shiners.”

  Kay made a face even as she giggled.

  “Yeah, it’s a boy thing, I think.” He laced his fingers into hers and raised her hand to his lips for a kiss.

  “He was crazy fun, Uncle Howie. He could even make Mother laugh. He gave me my first paint set. Just one of those pans of color and a terrible brush, but I adored it.”

  Nate glanced down, only to see her smile fade into sorrow.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “He died when I was fifteen. I always wished he could see what his gift led to.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Kay nodded and softened against him. He nuzzled a kiss to her head, guiltily pleased at her leaning on him. Need me. Let me be here for you every day.

  The hungry whine of mosquitoes nudged them onward to camp. They took the lower trail along the hillside, strolling hand in hand when they could.

  A coyote trotted along the trail, stopped boldly to look at them, and then, its ears perking at the murmur of noise below, swung its attention to the lake.

  Kay’s breath seized.

  The coyote looked back at Kay and Nate and loped off up the hillside.

  Then Nate focused on what was making the noise, and how: two people in the shadows, wrapped up in each other’s bodies, the moans and grunts and soft slap of flesh upon flesh making them deaf and blind to everything around them.

  Two blond heads that shouldn’t be together. R.J. and April.

  “Ah, shit, what an asshole,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

  Her hand tightened on his, but she stood motionless, eyes haunted.

  He tugged her. “Kay? Come on.” He blocked her view, and propelled her along into motion.

  She shuddered and came back from wherever she’d gone in her head, and they somberly finished their hike.

  Kay was quiet and distant as they got ready for bed. Nate’s worry for her raged impotently in his gut along with the need to charge back and straighten R.J.’s ass out. He should have done something. But what? Fastball a rock at the shit-for-brain’s head? He sat on the cot and kicked off his sneakers. He couldn’t fix his own problems with Kay; he sure as hell couldn’t fix Olivia’s.

  Thanks a lot, R.J., you dumb shit. Like I don’t have enough problems without you stirring up more shit in her head that I haven’t a clue how to fix.

  Kay sat beside him on the cot and smoothed her over-sized T-shirt over her thighs. “What should we do?”

  “I think Olivia knows already.” Yeah, those hurt brown eyes and raw, tight nerves, the chain-smoking…Olivia knew her husband, and April probably wasn’t the first, or the last.

  They climbed into bed and settled down on the open sleeping bags. Nate kissed her. He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Let’s get some sleep.” How easy that would be after this mess of an evening, he didn’t know, but they both needed the rest.

  She nodded and rolled onto her side, letting him spoon around her and cover them with the pink blanket, but she remained tense and silent.

  He ran his hand over her hip, trying to stroke in a soothing, restful way, and worked on making his own breathing slow and easy. Ever so gradually, Kay’s tight breaths relaxed and began to match his pace. The spring steel eased out of her spine, and she settled into his arms.

  He cuddled her long after he felt her slip into sleep.

  His own sleep eluded him. What a night. Shit. Kay had been finally relaxing, finally, finally starting to open up, and then they had to see that shit-for-brains R.J. banging April. Damn it all, he needed bleach for his brain. That scene was not helpful bedtime viewing.

  Things would be better after some sleep. Had to be. Everything he’d felt so certain about was sliding away around him like sand in an ebb tide. He was running out of time, and he still had no idea how to fix anything.

  ****

  “…I’ve had it! Enough! Enough!” A woman’s distant and pain-filled scream startled Kay awake and set her heart into crazy, fearful thumping. Dream? Real? Where?

  Nate lunged to sitting up beside her, the cot creaking and jolting. “What the…?” he growled and groggily swung his legs out of bed.

  They couldn’t have been asleep long. The night was full dark, not even a hint of dawn to the east.

  “You bastard!” That was Olivia. Kay never realized how far shouts could carr
y in the middle of the night. “How could you. Here? I’ve had it, R.J., damn you! Enough!”

  “Damn,” Nate muttered and scrubbed his hands over his face, raking his hair back, blinking and attempting to fully wake. “Yeah, Olivia knows.”

  After an awkward pause came, “Get lost! You can go find some other place to sleep tonight.” Olivia’s voice rose this time in an unrestrained shriek.

  Kay swallowed, failing to loosen her tight throat.

  “Shit.” Nate groggily felt around the tent floor and picked up his shoes.

  “Fine! Get off my fucking case, will you?” R.J.’s shout rang loud and far too clear.

  Why do you have to be on my case all the time? That wasn’t R.J.’s voice, but Dad’s. Old, bad memories.

  A pause of silence. Kay had to make herself take a breath, and another.

  Nate fumbled on his first shoe, the cot creaking under his movements. The night was cool and still as a held breath with only the lake’s soft shush over the shore and the faint clink of the boats at their moorings.

  “No! I will not shut up! I want them all to hear. How could you do this?”

  A torrent of indistinct angry words followed, too far away to decipher. Nate was muttering under his breath as he put on his second shoe. “…shoulda chucked a rock at the jerk.”

  “Fine,” R.J. shouted. “Why the hell I ever married a frigid bitch like you. I’m out of here.”

  Screw it. I’ll find some other place to sleep tonight. I’ve had it. I’ve had it.

  You’ve had it? Like I don’t know what you were doing with Judy out on the boat.

  Refusing to remember was useless. Her parents’ bitter voices were on an endless loop.

  “Good! And take that little bitch with you!” Olivia’s shout ripped with pain and mortification.

  You can’t even be discreet, can you, Ted? You think I don’t have eyes?

  “What the hell is the problem here, R.J?” Dave’s voice cracked through the night like a rifle shot. “People are sleeping, damn it.”

  “Mind your own damn business, Knight.”

  Everyone knows!

  Right, Melissa, because you can’t stop bitching.

  “Shit.” Nate grabbed the flashlight and slipped out of the tent. His jogging footsteps crunched across the sand, quickly growing softer.

  More indistinguishable male arguing followed, with a few scattered bursts from Lloyd’s and Christopher’s voices joining in with Dave’s, Olivia’s hurt, angry railing, and R.J.’s cursing punctuating the quarrel.

  Nate’s distant, “Hey, what’s going on here?” joined the conflict.

  A moment later Dave’s voice slammed out once more, “Back off, R.J. Now!”

  The voices died down, and faded to silence.

  Kay rolled to her side, clutching her blanket. Her heart ached for Olivia. She contemplated the picture of marriage Olivia and R.J. made. Nate was right. Olivia already knew R.J. was unfaithful, and likely had been for a long time. Olivia’s stress and her pained face, R.J.’s smug heartiness, and the heavy silences and sharp words between them drew a familiar story for Kay.

  Mother’s shrill voice crawled through her: So you were fishing with Howard, Ted? Only Howard hasn’t seen you or that bitch Veronica since lunch.

  Kay shivered against those seething memories of the long past, and a queasy chill spread in her belly. She fought the need to throw the sleeping bag over her head and huddle away, hands over her ears, like she had all those years ago.

  No, I will not shut up…You love me…I’m your wife…I love you…You promised…

  She shuddered, losing the fight against the memories she never wanted to feel again.

  Nate’s footsteps growing closer saved her. She clung to every step.

  “Okay. Back. They got the situation handled.” Nate sighed outside the tent door, his shadowy form shifting as if he was stretching and rolling his shoulders.

  A boat engine grumbled to life and lit out.

  “Well, that seems to be the end of that,” Nate said matter-of-factly. “Want anything while I’m up? Water?”

  “Yes, water’s good.”

  His steps traveled to the ice chest. Ice rattled and slid as he fished out a bottle. His steps drew near the tent, followed by the thin ripping of the zipper up and back down. He sat on the cot, the frame and mattress shifting with his weight. “Got the water.” He twisted off the cap and touched the cold bottle to her fingers.

  “Thanks.” She sat up, leaning on one elbow, not really wanting the icy water, but needing something to settle her stomach.

  She focused on Nate. He hunched there in the shadows, his eyes on her, a tired smile on his lips, waiting.

  She took a long drink and handed the bottle back to Nate. The chilled water helped her dry mouth, but didn’t relieve the uneasy, clinging tension. “That’s enough, thanks.”

  “No problem.” After he finished off the water, he kicked off his shoes, stretched and rolled his shoulders a few times, tension crackling in his joints, and swung his legs onto the cot. He stretched out on the sleeping bag with a long sigh, tucked her blanket around them both and gathered her close.

  She made herself relax into the sturdy wall of him spooning around her, focusing on the muscle by muscle release of the tension in her neck, shoulders, back, and on down to her toes.

  The wilderness peace of the desert night settled around them. The startled insects resumed their tiny creaks and clicks. A small rock rattled on the hillside. The lake whispered in its endless wash over the gravel beach.

  But the peace of the night didn’t stifle the tenacious ghosts of old arguments rattling around her mind. The ones that made her wonder why she came like a lemming to these same old places after so many years. Honestly, memories worse than any rusty ghost town along the highway haunted these camps. She’d told herself over the years she came for the scenery or for her friendship with the gang, but it was habit.

  Why can’t we stay at a hotel, Ted? What’s wrong with a little running water and a toilet?

  The girls love it here. I love it here. Why can’t you just enjoy it with us, Melissa?

  She clenched her eyes tight, wishing she could clap hands over her mental ears.

  She had happy memories here, too. She had far more happy and pleasant ones than the miserable ones. More peaceful ones. Good memories. Sweet ones.

  So, focus on those.

  But the miserable were sharp and strong, piercing and clinging like cholla cactus, staining like rust.

  What am I supposed to do when you leave me here all by myself in this damned camp?

  You could try to have a good time, relax for a change, make friends and enjoy yourself, damn it, instead of bitching all day long.

  Right, sand, heat, bugs, fish guts. That’s a good time? It’s my vacation too.

  Then why didn’t you say something before we left?

  Like you’d listen to me? I could talk myself blue and you’d never hear a word I say. Oh, and I’m supposed to enjoy you making a fool of yourself with that girl?

  Kay shuddered again. Enough. She’d had far too much beer today. That was the reason for her maudlin memories. That, and R.J. and April and Olivia.

  “What’s wrong? Cold?” Nate cuddled her closer. “Want to get under the bag?”

  “Just tired.” She was being childish. She wasn’t six anymore, huddled in her pup tent pretending to be asleep. She’d grown up, made her own memories, and reclaimed these places for herself. She wouldn’t let the past ruin them.

  She couldn’t.

  Nate leaned over Kay and touched a kiss to her mouth. “Sure?”

  She focused on the comforting stroke of Nate’s hand over her hip and the solid grounding weight of him spooned against her back. She reached back and stroked her hand over the soft cotton of his knit shorts.

  He caught her hand and gave a tender squeeze.

  Good memories.

  Maybe she would finally, permanently bury the misery of the past under th
e weight of new and far happier memories.

  “Sure.”

  Chapter Eleven

  She shouldn’t be walking alone. It was late. She’d followed the burros too far, hiked down the wrong ravine, and now she was going to be in such big trouble.

  A murmur of noise came from below, where there shouldn’t have been anyone, pulling her to look down into the little cove. Two people in the moonlight, on the beach. Two people who didn’t belong together.

  Two bodies that shouldn’t be together. Shouldn’t be doing…that…A childish whimper squeaked from her.

  Nate looked up at her, grinned—

  Kay lurched out of the dream with a gasping cry.

  Nate woke, jerking up onto one elbow. “What’s the matter?” The tent was shadowy in the gray predawn.

  Dizzy from sitting up so fast, she flopped back against the pillow. “Weird dream. Sorry.”

  “You’re okay?”

  “Fine.” Aside from a crazy, pounding heart and that utterly unwanted, unreal picture of Nate wrapped around Olivia in her head. As for the other, older real image…

  No, no, no, not going back there. Fine? Not.

  Focus on Nate and forward. Not past. Her stomach churned as if she had a knot of nightcrawlers in there. She made her voice calm and cool. “It was just a weird dream. I’m fine now.” She took several deep, steadying breaths.

  Nate propped his head on one hand and reached out the other to brush hair away from Kay’s face. He smiled in the shadows as he stroked her hair. “I get those weird dreams. Wacky Alice in Wonderland stuff—like I’m at an important shoot and all I have is my granddad’s Brownie camera, or I’m back in college and it’s the final exam and I realize I’d forgotten I had the class and had missed every single lecture.” He chuckled. “I dreamed once my film canisters were hopping all over the darkroom. Full of tree frogs instead of film.”

  Kay’s mental image of that scene shook giggles from her, and she relaxed under his gentle strokes.

  He traced his fingers over her cheek and down to her lips in the same rhythmic pattern.

  Outside the sanctuary of their tent, morning steadily eased out of night. A pair of birds sang out their first warm-up notes. The peace of the morning and Nate’s touch soothed the anxious tripping race of her heart and, with concerted effort, she shoved the ugly false dream images away. She focused on Nate’s face in the early morning gloom. Just Nate, steady and loving, his smile making those little crinkles by his eyes. She nuzzled her face against his hand and kissed his palm, grateful for his easy presence.