Building a Family

by Lyn Cote

  The bowls began to make their way from hand to hand. Sitting on the other side of Nicky and Cassie, his petite mother, wearing a pink blouse and denim cutoffs, helped him serve the children. His brother and dad began talking about the family’s dairy cattle and the day’s work, two milkings and planting hay.

  Pete let the peaceful conversation flow around him, grateful his parents had taken him and his children in after they’d returned from Las Vegas three years ago. Pete scanned the nearby road for Mike.

  His mom gazed at Pete over the rim of her tall iced tea glass, obviously studying him. “Cassie showed me where the bee stung her.”

  “Miss Ellie took care of me,” Cassie piped up and stretched out her arm to display the red welt. “See. It’s getting better. It only hurts a little.”

  “Yes, Ms. Washburn took good care of you,” he repeated, hoping Cassie wouldn’t say more about the lady. “Now, more eating, less talking, please.”

  His mother searched his face. Aware that his mother was always listening for a sign of interest in any eligible female, he smiled deceptively at her and took another bite.

  Landon, his tall, lanky youngest brother, home for the summer from University of Wisconsin Madison, spoke up. “I contacted the power company about the possibility of testing a wind turbine on our hill.”

  All conversation ceased and every eye turned to Landon.

  “What did you say?” their father Harry asked, not sounding happy.

  “You heard what I said, Dad,” Landon said, grinning with his usual easy insouciance.

  His dad sent his mother a disgruntled look.

  “Yes, Harry dear,” Kerry Ann said, patting her husband’s work-roughened hand, “Landon takes after me.” The contrast between his parents, his free-spirit mom and his stick-in-the-mud dad gave their family a certain zest.

  Pete listened but his mind took a different route. He and his brothers were preparing a special surprise for their parents.

  Thoughts of Eleanor returned. Unfortunately, Eleanor matched his ex-wife in two respects—both were beautiful and both were committed to their law careers. There was something different about Eleanor—but maybe that was just wishful thinking. I have two kids to raise—that’s my main job now. Cassie’s revealing words, about dreaming of her mama, had left him reeling. I can’t take any chances that might hurt them more.

  Pete heard the roar of Mike’s Harley coming up the drive. Within minutes, Mike walked onto the porch, his hair wet from where he’d just washed his face and hands in the mudroom. He sat down at the empty place. “Hey, I made it!”

  “This isn’t a café. You should be here on time to eat your mother’s good food,” Harry grumbled, but he was grinning around his frown.

  Mike laughed as if his dad had just told a joke. “Pass those bowls. I’m starving.” Then he looked at Pete. “Hey, that Eleanor Washburn is one classy chick. Think she’d go out with me?”

  Pete goggled at his brother.

  Mike burst into laughter. “Just kidding. She’s more your style, Pete.”

  Pete contented himself by just frowning discouragingly at Mike. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the expression on his mom’s face. She was studying both of them with that motherly matchmaker expression. Not what Pete wanted at all.

  His brother mouthed, “Talk to you later.”

  Fortunately, Landon started discussing the heavy rains and a waterlogged hay field. Pete began to relax. And then the image of Eleanor holding Cassie and tenderly brushing back wisps of her hair went through him in warm waves. This shook him. No woman had made him feel anything since Suzann had walked out on him and their two children.

  He regained control of himself and concentrated on the farming discussion, while also wondering what favor Mike wanted and if Landon had made progress on finding a site for the large crowd to be invited for the surprise celebration they were preparing for their parents. Then Pete noted a dark green Trailblazer driving up to their house.

  Eleanor got out and walked toward them. Surprised, he wasn’t certain it was good for Cassie to see her again so soon.

  He rose and hurried to greet her, trying to figure out how to handle this. “Eleanor, what brings you here?”

  “I’m sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t get you on your cell phone, and the Habitat volunteer application didn’t have another number for you. And there are so many Becks in the phone book.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Oh, my battery ran down. What do you need?”

  “Pete, don’t keep the lady standing there!” his mother called out. “Bring her over so we can offer her something to eat.”

  “Miss Ellie!” Evidently Cassie had finally recognized Eleanor.

  Pete’s heart beat like a trip-hammer.

  Cassie leaped from her seat and ran to the woman, claiming her hand and drawing her to the table. “You can sit by me.” Cassie pulled Eleanor to the place beside her. Pete trailed after them, trying not to give away his qualms.

  “I’m so sorry to intrude on your meal,” Eleanor apologized again. “I’ll just stay a moment—”

  “No, you can stay,” Cassie said. “You’ll like my grandma’s food.”

  Kerry Ann laughed at this. “Have you eaten Miss Ellie?”

  Eleanor gazed around. “No, I haven’t but—”

  “Won’t take me a minute to get you a plate,” Kerry Ann said, bustling toward the kitchen.

  So within minutes, Eleanor had taken the place next to Cassie and was squirting mustard on her bratwurst. “Thank you so much. I haven’t had a moment to eat since my ice cream cone at Dairy Queen with Cassie and Pete earlier today.”

  His mom had delivered everything Eleanor needed, and the bowls of food were passed to her. Pete watched her take a dainty bite of her bratwurst in its bun. Or she tried to take a dainty bite. Mustard squirted and then dribbled down her chin. He resisted the urge to wipe it away with his napkin. She finished chewing, and after swallowing, she gave an apologetic smile, dabbing off the mustard.

  “What can I do for you, Eleanor?” Pete asked, unable to rein in his curiosity and his desire to get her on her way home. He kept an eagle eye on Cassie.

  “You do know Danny Miller, right?” she asked. “You brought his brother this morning.”

  He wished she hadn’t mentioned this here and now. Mike wouldn’t want to discuss Danny Miller in front of their father—who had warned Mike not to hire Danny.

  “What’s Danny done now?” Pete’s dad asked, looking disgruntled.

  “Nothing,” Eleanor replied. “I think it’s just an unfortunate circumstance. He has been charged with vandalism and theft.”

  “The police took him from my shop today. Danny didn’t break into those cars,” Mike said. “He knows enough about cars to get one open without making a big mess, breaking windows and stuff.”

  Eleanor nodded, chewing macaroni salad. “But his fingerprints were found in the car.” She turned to look directly into Pete’s eyes. “Danny’s mom is very upset, and she wondered if you’d come to court with her tomorrow morning. She’s at work now, or she would have come to ask you herself.”

  “Me?” Pete lifted his tall glass of iced tea, taking time to consider. “I don’t know what I can do—”

  “You’ve helped her so much with Colby,” Eleanor said. “She’s been through a lot with her sons.”

  “That’s what I came to ask you,” Mike said, sounding earnest. “Please.”

  Pete nodded, feeling his spirits lower at the thought of entering a courtroom, something he hadn’t done since his divorce proceedings. The memory sent a shaft of pain through him. “Okay.”

  “Thanks.” Eleanor beamed at him.

  Then out of the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed his mother gazing speculatively at him. He hoped she wasn’t getting any ideas about Eleanor and him. Mom usually never meddled in her sons’ romances or, in his case, lack thereof.

  Eleanor savored the homemade meal at the long picnic table und
er the shady oaks. She recalled her nearly empty refrigerator. She also was glad to forgo the postage-stamp-size kitchen table where she usually sat alone with a small TV perched at eye level to keep her company—poor company.

  At this long table, she and Kerry Ann were the only women. That must mean that Pete definitely was a single dad. That made Eleanor a touch sad. From what she knew of Pete and his family, she didn’t think he’d seek a divorce lightly. She’d watched friends divorce and observed the pain they suffered. It was sad.

  When Eleanor ate the last crumb of her meal, her waistband clung a bit snugger than usual. Had she really had two helpings of everything?

  Cassie leaped up as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “Wanta swing?”

  Eleanor chuckled, half in delight, half in response to the unusual request. “I’m sure I’m too big for your swing set.”

  “Not too big for the wooden swing hanging from the tree,” Kerry Ann piped up. “I swing on it every summer day. Great exercise and fun, too.”

  Pete’s dad shook his head at his wife, but Eleanor didn’t miss the approving gleam in the dark eyes.

  “I’m sure Eleanor has to be getting home,” Pete said, probably offering her a way out.

  But instead, he motivated her to stay and try this swing. “As a matter of fact,” she said, “I’m done for the day. And I’d love to swing.”

  “Yes!” Cassie squealed. She claimed Eleanor’s hand and pulled her along to a wooden swing hanging by sturdy ropes from a venerable oak. Nearby was an elaborate, wooden play area with swings, ramps, a slide, monkey bars and what looked like the bridge of a ship, wheel and all.

  “Daddy and our uncles made this for us,” Nicky, Cassie’s older brother, spoke to her for the first time.

  “It’s wonderful,” Eleanor said. The set was a child’s dream. Her gaze strayed to Pete, who was in turn gazing at his little girl. Eleanor’s heart pinched. She only recalled her father looking at her that way once—after she’d nearly died in a childhood accident. She swung her attention back to Cassie.

  “Here’s your swing,” Cassie said, pointing to it. “Sit down, and I’ll push you.”

  Eleanor felt a bit self-conscious but obeyed. Cassie gave her a gentle push. Eleanor swung forward about an inch.

  “Daddy, you push her,” Nicky said. “Cassie’s not strong enough.”

  Cassie seconded this.

  From behind, Eleanor felt Pete lean close, grasp the seat on either side of her. Instead of pushing forward, he drew her backward, his strong arms almost touching hers. She caught a whiff of his scent, a mix of clean soap and honest perspiration. Backward she went, like going up a ski lift in reverse.

  She gripped the ropes and lifted her feet, pointing her toes, naturally remembering how to swing. Then he let out a breath and released her. She flew forward, suddenly free of gravity, a breeze funneling around her, her toes reaching for the sky. She laughed out loud. Her upward swing ended and she swung backward, remembering—just in time—to pull her heels back and pump her legs. She flew forward again. She laughed out loud again. And Pete’s chuckle harmonized with her laughter.

  Cassie called out encouragement, clapping as if she felt Eleanor’s glee, too. Grinning, Eleanor lost herself in the motion, the moment, the freedom. Finally, she recalled who she was. She let the swing slow, and then Pete was there in front of her, grinning. Low sunlight caught in his thick hair, highlighting the dark brown. She forced herself not to reach out to touch it.

  As she put her feet down, he offered her his hands. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

  She accepted his callused, capable hands, a hitch catching her breath. “And good exercise,” she said, quoting his mother.

  “It’s time for me to get the kids ready for bed.” Pete released her hands. Why did she sense that he wanted her to go?

  Her joy ebbed. “I should be going then—”

  “No!” Cassie cried out. “Please stay and read me a bedtime story.”

  “Yes, why don’t you?” Kerry Ann seconded from a nearby, white Adirondack chair. “First, though, you two children go shed your dirty clothes in the laundry room, get your towels and hurry out to the shower. I’ll get your pj’s.”

  Eleanor tried to make sense of “out to the shower,” but couldn’t. She looked to Pete.

  However, Kerry Ann did the explanation. “I have an outdoor shower set up. Keeps my bathrooms clean from all the summer dirt and mud.” She hurried toward the back door.

  “And it’s more fun!” Nicky shouted happily, running after his grandma.

  Pete led her to the back of the house toward a six-foot-long, unroofed structure with walls that ended about six inches above the grass. Walking beside him launched a funny flutter in her stomach.

  Trying to look unaffected, Eleanor stood back and watched the children run inside fully clothed and then jog back out as if in a race, wrapped in clean towels. Both of them flew into the outdoor shower—a door on hinges automatically flapping shut—and then she heard a shower of water splashing and squeals of delight.

  Pete leaned closer. “My mom had my dad rig this up when I was about ten. My dad and my brothers and I got so dirty, playing and working around the farm, she decided we should leave the dirt outside.”

  Eleanor was impressed and said so. She trained her eyes forward, but they strayed and caught Pete’s strong profile. The twilight was flowing around them; a fiery sunset limned distant clouds.

  “That’s not all. Come here.” Taking her hand, Pete led her to the other side of the shower. “See, the water from the shower goes down this shallow incline to her garden. So every time someone showers, the garden is watered.”

  She let him release her hand but missed the connection. “Wow. That’s thinking green.”

  Within a few minutes, Pete’s two children came out damp and smiling in summer pajamas and flip-flops. After Kerry Ann finished towel-drying Cassie’s hair, the little girl hurried to Eleanor and took her hand. “Read me a story. Please.”

  Eleanor gauged hesitation in Pete’s expression. And instantly, she understood. Cassie had shown a marked preference for her ever since they’d met this morning. And Cassie was without a mom. Strangely, Eleanor thought she knew how motherless Cassie felt—though her own mother was alive and well in Arizona. This stirred her desire to read to her. But she looked to Pete, asking his permission.

  “Please,” Cassie begged.

  “Okay,” Pete said, still reluctantly.

  He had every right to try to protect his child from becoming too attached to her so she said, “Just this once. And just one story.”

  Pete sent them to a swing on the wide front porch while he ducked inside for the basket of books. She and Cassie sat on the swing. After Pete gave her the basket, he sat on a white wicker chair nearby, and Nicky climbed up on his lap.

  The little girl snuggled up against Eleanor, a rare sensation for her and one that filled her with resolution to pursue adoption. Cassie had chosen a book, called Tell Me a Story, where various animals were put to bed by their mothers. As she read, Eleanor felt Pete’s daughter relax against her. Just as had happened this morning, the touch of the trusting little girl broke some emotional shield, flooding Eleanor with streams of sensations and emotions. Evidently, she needed to guard herself against becoming attached to Cassie just as much as Pete needed to guard his child.

  As she read aloud, Eleanor had to struggle to keep all that she was feeling hidden. Her heart had melted into a warm maternal puddle. She had to hold back from revealing this. Without saying a word, Pete had put up a “No Trespassing” sign for her. At the end of the book, she made herself rise to leave. “This has been a lot of fun, Cassie. But I need to go home now.”

  “But—” Cassie started.

  “—but we’ll say thank you to Miss Ellie for reading to you,” Pete spoke over his daughter.

  Cassie looked pouty but said, “Thank you, Miss Ellie.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Nicky seconded. “You did good.”
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  “And I’ll walk the pretty lady to her car,” Mike said, appearing at the bottom of the steps.

  “Thank you,” she said, hurrying to join him, casting a farewell glance to Pete over her shoulder and giving a final wave to Cassie. She inhaled deeply, trying to release her own marked emotional reaction.

  The two walked silently to her Trailblazer. “Thanks for helping Danny,” Mike said after he’d opened her car door.

  “It’s what I do.” She got in and drove away, saddened somehow. Bereft. How many times as a child had she made up an imaginary big family of brothers and sisters and a mom who was always in the kitchen, baking something which smelled wonderful? She sighed and turned onto the county road. Life was life—period. She might never have a big family, but soon she might find a child who needed her. She had love to give, meeting Cassie had proved that to her. Maybe this had been her sign to proceed.

  Upstairs, Pete sat on the side of Cassie’s twin bed. Nicky crawled into the other. He yawned loud and long and then asked his usual question, “Do we really got to go to bed now? It’s not even dark yet.”

  “That’s because it’s summer. And yes, you still got to—” he paused to correct himself “—have to go to bed now. Prayers,” Pete prompted. Both children folded their hands and bowed their heads. They said in unison, “Dear Jesus, take care of Grandma and Grandpa and Daddy and all our uncles.”

  “And Miss Ellie,” Cassie added. “Thank You, Jesus, for all our blessings. Amen.” They ended slightly out of sync.

  Pete leaned over and kissed Cassie’s forehead, then stood and kissed Nicky’s. He lowered the window shade, blocking out the sunset. Low in the sky, the summer sun’s globe flamed gold-red, heralding another hot day coming tomorrow.