Cross-Ties

by Bonnie Bryant

  Peter nodded. “We’ll be right here.”

  “Good.” Greta smiled down at the kids. “Come, little ones. We must go see an old friend.”

  The children went along with her willingly, not sparing Peter or Lisa a backward glance. When they had made their way down the bleacher steps and disappeared into the crowd, Peter let out a loud sigh. “Wow,” he said bleakly. “That didn’t go too well, did it?”

  Lisa smiled at him sympathetically. “It could’ve been better,” she admitted as a cheer went up from the crowd. The first competitor had just entered the ring. “But it’s only natural, I guess. It’s a tough situation.”

  They were silent for a few minutes, watching as the rider—a teenage girl on a sharp-looking hunter—completed the simple jump course. Lisa clapped politely along with everyone else as the girl rode out of the ring.

  Then she glanced at her brother. He was sitting with downcast eyes, seeming hardly aware of what was going on around him. “You’ve got to remember, this is really hard for them,” she said softly. “They don’t understand what’s happening, and they have to find someone to blame for their feelings. You should try not to take it too personally.”

  Peter looked up at her, his forehead slightly creased with confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked heavily. “They hate me. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Peter, they’re just little kids,” Lisa reminded him, reaching over to pat the back of his hand. “They don’t hate you. They just resent you right now, and that’s perfectly normal. This is all new to them, and they don’t know how to handle it.”

  Another rider was in the ring by now, but neither Peter nor Lisa was watching. Peter stared at Lisa blankly. “It’s new to me, too,” he said. “I’m trying, but I just don’t think it’s working.”

  “You’ve got to give it time,” Lisa said, thinking back once again to her parents’ divorce. “That’s really the most important thing. You have to let them get used to the idea that their family has changed, and that it’s going to be this way from now on.”

  Peter blinked. “Wow,” he said. “I guess I never thought of it that way before. I’ve been doing my best to adjust to suddenly having a wife and two kids to deal with. I sort of forgot that they’ve got to adjust to having me around, too.” He looked sheepish. “Pretty immature for an old married guy, huh?”

  “Not really.” Lisa smiled at her brother.

  “How’d you get to be so wise, anyway, little sis?” Peter asked, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “Oh, that’s right. You’ve been through this before, right?”

  “Yeah,” Lisa replied, flashing again to the day her father left.

  Peter nodded. “Me too,” he said. “But I’m sure it was a lot tougher on you, being right there through the divorce and all. Anyway, you seem to have done a better job than me on that, too. I have to admit, I still haven’t gotten past my resentment toward Dad for walking out, let alone worked out what I think about Evelyn.”

  “Evelyn?” Lisa was startled to hear her brother mention their stepmother. She hadn’t been thinking about her at all. “Actually, Evelyn was never a problem for me. I think she’s great—I liked her the first time I met her. Besides, she makes Dad happy. I think that’s really cool.”

  Peter gazed at her for a moment, looking slightly skeptical. Finally he shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “Now, come on. Let’s just sit back and try to enjoy the rest of this horse show.”

  ELEVEN

  “Well now, Carole,” Dr. Durbin said breathlessly as she hoisted one end of a metal park bench. “Is this how you imagined spending Thanksgiving morning?”

  “No way,” Carole panted in reply, doing her best to keep the other end of the bench from slipping out of her grip. It was heavier than it looked, and she was already wishing she’d thought to wear her riding boots to protect her feet in case she dropped it on her toe. Her thin sneakers certainly weren’t going to do much good.

  Just as she and Dr. Durbin settled the bench in its assigned spot, a slender young volunteer came running toward them, looking slightly frantic. “Jan! Carole!” the woman called. “If you’re finished with that, could you come help us with the lightbulbs for the playground lights? We got the old ones and the new ones mixed up.”

  “Be right there,” Dr. Durbin replied for both of them. After making a few last adjustments to the bench, she hurried after the other volunteer, who was heading for the playground.

  Carole followed, still a little breathless from her previous task. It had been that way all morning—every time one job was finished, there seemed to be forty-two others that demanded immediate attention. The group had been working hard all week, but today their efforts seemed to have gone into overdrive. Carole guessed that was because all the volunteers were eager to finish up as early as possible so that they could get home to their families and their turkey dinners.

  Carole had been so busy that she’d hardly given a thought to her own Thanksgiving plans. As usual, she and her father had planned to stay home and celebrate quietly, just the two of them. Normally that was the best holiday Carole could imagine. This year, however … She shuddered slightly as she imagined yet another gloomy, silent meal with her father, neither of them knowing what to say to the other.

  It was a depressing thought, and Carole quickly banished it from her mind as Dr. Durbin passed her a couple of lightbulbs to test in one of the metal lanterns that Hometown Hope’s electrician had installed to light the playground’s paths and equipment. Carole figured the best way to keep from dwelling on all the problems in her life was just to keep as busy as possible. Fortunately, that wasn’t proving hard to do when she was on the job with Hometown Hope.

  Just as Carole and the others finished the lightbulb job, Nadine hurried up to them. “Are you guys done here?” she asked. “The rest of the playground is almost ready, too. Lionel and I just need someone to help us hang the swings—we want to make sure they’re on straight.”

  “I’ll do it,” Carole offered. She turned and followed Nadine over to the brand-new swing set. While most of the playground equipment had needed just a little repair and a fresh coat of paint, the old metal swing set had rusted away to almost nothing by the time they had gotten there. One of the volunteers was a carpenter, and he had designed the old set’s replacement—a wooden swing complex that contained a climbing area, a sturdy plastic slide, and half a dozen wooden swings, which were currently stacked beside one of the park’s brand-new metal trash cans.

  Lionel was already climbing up to the thick top beam of the swing set. When he was ready, Nadine tossed him the ends of the chains and held the swing steady, while Carole watched to make sure the ends were even so that the swing would hang correctly. Working as a team, it didn’t take them long to complete the task. Just minutes later, Carole eyed the last swing critically. “Perfect,” she declared. “Totally horizontal.”

  “Great.” Lionel smiled and pounded in the final bolt holding the swing in place. Then he slid down the wooden post at the end of the swing set and pulled off his heavy work gloves, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Then I guess that’s it,” he said. “We’re finished.”

  Carole nodded. “Okay, what’s next?”

  Nadine laughed. “No, Carole,” she said gently. “He’s means we’re finished. The whole park. See?” She waved an arm at the scene around them.

  Carole blinked and took a look around. She had been so focused on the swing set that she hadn’t even noticed that most of the other workers had wound up their jobs. Aside from a couple of people who were sweeping some newly fallen leaves off the surrounding sidewalks, the entire group was standing around, singly or in small clusters, admiring the results of their efforts.

  For the first time, Carole took a good look at what all their hard work had accomplished. When the volunteer group had first arrived on Saturday, the grubby little park had been a total mess. Now it was like a whole new place. Neat gravel paths led in from the sidewalks on each side an
d wound their way between freshly planted shrubs. Newly laid sod had turned the central area into a lush green lawn. A birdbath and several benches decorated one shady corner, while the bright paint of the playground equipment gleamed in the late-morning sunshine.

  Wow, Carole thought, running one hand over her dark springy hair. We really did something here.

  “So, what do you think, Carole?” Nadine asked, coming to stand beside her. “It feels pretty good, doesn’t it?’”

  “It sure does,” Carole replied truthfully. “I can’t believe we did all this. It looks amazing! I didn’t realize how it was all coming together until right this minute.”

  Lionel smiled. “I know,” he said. “It’s that can’t see the forest for the trees thing. When you’re focused on the details, you tend to miss the big picture.”

  “But it always sneaks up on you again sooner or later,” Nadine said with a laugh. “Surprise!”

  Carole chuckled. As her gaze wandered past the playground again, she spotted a small crowd of children watching from the sidewalk. Zani was standing at the front of the group, her dark eyes huge as she stared at the new swing set. “Hey, look,” Carole said. “I think the kids want to check out their new park.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Lionel winked. “Go invite them in.”

  Carole nodded and started forward. “Zani,” she called. “Come here for a second.”

  Zani looked surprised, but she stepped toward Carole. “How do you know my name?” she asked shyly.

  Carole bent down until her face was level with the little girl’s. “Your friends told me,” she said. “I remembered it because it’s such a pretty name. So, Zani, how would you like to test out the new swing set over there?”

  Zani looked awed. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” Carole smiled, stood, and gestured for her to come forward. “Come on, hop on. I’ll give you a push.”

  Zani quickly complied, choosing the swing on the end near the slide. Carole gave her a gentle push, and soon the little girl was pumping her legs, swinging herself enthusiastically. That was all her friends needed to see. Seconds later, the playground was overrun with chattering, laughing, playing kids.

  Carole rejoined Lionel and Nadine, who were watching the children with their arms intertwined. I wonder if they’re thinking about all the kids they wanted to have, Carole thought, suddenly remembering their story. I wonder if it makes them sad to see other people’s kids playing.

  “This is my favorite part,” Nadine said softly, not taking her eyes off the children. “Seeing how much our contribution means to people. It reminds me of all the wonderful things in my life that I usually take for granted.”

  “That’s what we mean about living positively instead of negatively,” Lionel agreed, glancing at Carole. “It’s times like this that really make you grateful for what you have, and what you can give, if you’re just open to it.”

  “Grateful?” Carole repeated, suddenly remembering what day it was. “Shouldn’t that be thankful?”

  Nadine and Lionel laughed. “You’re right,” Nadine said. “Happy Thanksgiving, Carole. And congratulations on completing your first project with Hometown Hope.”

  “Thanks.” Carole smiled, feeling better than she’d felt in a couple of weeks.

  At that moment her eye caught a flash of movement on the street beyond the playground. Turning to look, she spotted Ben walking slowly toward the park, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

  Seeing him again brought back all her mixed-up feelings in a rush. I can’t believe he’s here again, she thought. Even though it’s a holiday, I was sure he’d spend the whole day at Pine Hollow.…

  Suddenly it struck her. For the first time, she really thought about that and what it meant. It didn’t just mean that Ben loved being at the stable—that was true enough, and Carole felt the same way. But it also meant that Ben really didn’t seem to have a safe, loving, comfortable place to go to when he wasn’t at Pine Hollow. Even in the midst of her grounding, Carole couldn’t imagine what it might be like not to belong anywhere, not to have that safe place. Her father might be angry with her now, angrier than he’d ever been before, but she didn’t doubt for one second that he still loved her more than anyone else on the planet. Nothing could change that.

  But it’s more than just me and Dad, she thought, still gazing at Ben. There are plenty of other people who care about me and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me—my other relatives, my friends and their families, Max and his family.… Ben could have that, too, if he’d just let himself. If he’d just figure out how to be open, to let other people in—to live positively, as Lionel and Nadine would say.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the couple, suddenly realizing she’d been guilty of some negative thinking lately herself. “I just want to go say hello to someone.”

  Taking a deep breath, she walked toward Ben. He didn’t see her coming at first—he was busy watching Zani shriek with laughter as a tall, skinny boy pushed her swing higher and higher.

  Then he turned his head and spotted her. For a moment, Carole was afraid he was going to walk away. But he stood his ground as she approached.

  She stopped in front of him, feeling tongue-tied and shy. Her hands felt as though they’d blown up to the size of Clydesdales—she had no idea where to put them. She shoved them awkwardly into her jeans pockets, mirroring Ben’s posture.

  “Hi,” she said, forcing the word past her dry, nervous throat.

  “Hi,” Ben returned cautiously. “Uh …” His voice trailed off, and he turned his head to glance at Zani, who was still swinging.

  Shoving the thought of their kiss to the back of her mind, Carole forced herself to go on. “Um, I just wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Ben looked startled. He cleared his throat. “Er, you too,” he replied gruffly.

  “Thanks.” Carole wasn’t sure what to say next. “Um, so how are things at Pine Hollow? How’s Starlight?”

  “Okay.” Ben shrugged. “Rachel. You know. She’s doing fine with him.”

  Carole nodded, feeling a little better despite the terseness of Ben’s reply. If Rachel were having any problems with Starlight, Ben would tell her. She was certain of that. “That’s good,” she said. “How about other stuff? How’s Firefly doing with her training?”

  Ben shrugged again. “She’s coming along.”

  He didn’t mention the fact that Carole was supposed to be helping him train the rambunctious filly, and Carole didn’t bring it up, either. Instead, she searched her mind for more questions. Earlier that day she’d been dying for an update on life at the stable. But now, for some reason, she couldn’t seem to think of anything more to ask.

  Zani saved her the trouble, jumping off the swing and racing over to them. “The swings are great!” she cried, grinning up at Carole.

  “That’s terrific,” Carole replied, smiling despite herself at the little girl’s enthusiasm, which had totally overtaken her earlier shyness. “I’m glad you like them.”

  “Will you push me again?” Zani asked, tilting her head to one side so that a lock of curly hair fell down over one big brown eye. “Really high?”

  Carole was about to agree, but she felt a little awkward with Ben still standing there next to her. “I already pushed you, remember?” she said. “Why don’t you ask your—er—ah—” She stammered helplessly as she glanced at Ben, suddenly realizing that she still had no idea what their relationship might be. Was he her brother? Her stepbrother? She felt her face turning bright red as several excruciating, endless seconds passed in silence.

  “Come on, Zani.” Ben’s voice was brusque as he reached for the little girl’s arm. “We’ve got to go.”

  Carole watched helplessly, her face burning, as he led Zani off toward the street without looking back.

  “Could you toss me the cans of cranberry sauce, Lisa?” Evelyn said. “They’re over there on the buffet.”

  Lisa glanced up from setting the table. “S
ure,” she said. It was Thanksgiving morning, and the two of them were in the kitchen, which smelled of roasting turkey and baking pies. Stepping around the table, she grabbed a couple of cans off the sideboard and brought them over to the counter, where Evelyn was rinsing out a pretty willow pattern dish. “Nice dish,” Lisa commented.

  “Thanks.” Evelyn looked up with a smile, pushing a strand of damp blond hair off her forehead. “My grandma left it to me when she died. She used to use it for the cranberry sauce every Thanksgiving. We always went to her house in Pasadena when I was a kid—family tradition, you know.” She opened the cranberry cans as she spoke, then spooned their contents into the willow bowl and carried it toward the table.

  Lisa stood back to let her pass, watching as her stepmother set the bowl carefully and lovingly on the table beside Mr. Atwood’s usual place. It was a little strange to hear Evelyn talk about her family’s traditions at a time like this. In fact, preparing Thanksgiving dinner with Evelyn was a little strange in more ways than one.

  Unbidden, Peter’s comments of the day before about resenting Evelyn crept into her mind. But Lisa quickly banished them. That’s ridiculous, she thought, turning away to fish some serving spoons out of the silverware drawer. I don’t resent Evelyn or her place in our lives. I like her. She’s Dad’s wife and Lily’s mother, and she’s good at being both those things. That’s what matters.

  Her thoughts were making her uncomfortable. She almost wished someone else would come in to help them, but that didn’t seem too likely. Greta was upstairs, probably on the phone with more of her endless business contacts. Lily was taking a nap in her portable crib in one corner of the kitchen. Mr. Atwood and Peter were settled on the living room couch watching football, which seemed to be distracting them enough to keep them from snapping at each other for a change. In fact, the whole house was downright peaceful.…