Starlight on Willow Lake

by Susan Wiggs

  The day before the Labor Day picnic, she sat on the deck with her laptop computer. It was a new one, and it didn’t actually belong to her. Alice had provided it, insisting that her caregiver needed a fast, high-quality computer.

  Faith didn’t miss the old secondhand clunker. The new one was slick and fast, and she actually enjoyed filling out forms for the girls’ schools. By now the routine was familiar, but she felt a special poignancy at the moment. Senior year.

  She glanced over at the garden in the sunniest corner of the yard. Both girls were there with Alice, gathering things for the picnic. Now at the end of the growing season, the oblong raised beds were exploding with tomatoes, cucumbers, berries, beans and herbs. At Ruby’s insistence, there were also sunflowers, Shasta daisies and dahlias in colorful variety.

  Catching Cara’s attention, Faith motioned her over. “School starts the day after tomorrow,” she said. “Help me fill out some of these forms.”

  “On my second-to-last day of freedom?” Cara scowled, but she plunked herself down next to Faith at the umbrella-shaded table. “Whatever.”

  Faith angled the laptop toward her. “I had to create a new log-in for the school district. The email’s the same, but they wanted a new password. I picked ‘BellaBallou.’”

  “Everybody uses their dog’s name. But it’s fine. It’s not like we’re giving them a bunch of high-security info, right?”

  “You’re supposed to check off the volunteer committees you’re interested in. Homecoming decorations?”

  “Oh, right. Can you see me at the Homecoming dance?”

  “Of course I can. You love music and dancing. You always have.” Faith hadn’t gone to her own Homecoming dance. She’d just discovered she was pregnant, and a school dance had been the last thing on her mind.

  “Even if I wanted to go,” Cara said, “I’d never get asked.”

  “Then go with your friends. It’s more fun that way.”

  “In case you don’t remember, Avalon High is still in the Dark Ages. You don’t go to Homecoming unless you have a date.”

  “So find a date. I bet plenty of guys would love an invitation from you.”

  She twirled her fading purple hair around her index finger. “Mom. I’m a freak. Nobody wants to date me.”

  “Where is this coming from?” Faith asked, mystified.

  “It doesn’t come from anywhere. It’s just a fact. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “You’re ridiculously creative with your clothes, and you’re beautiful.”

  Cara patted her arm. “Spoken like a true mom.”

  “I bet you could come up with something incredible without killing the budget.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I will survive not going to Homecoming.”

  “Milo Waxman would go with you.”

  Color surged into her cheeks. “Moving right along... Here’s one. Cross-country and track team booster club.”

  “Somehow, I don’t see you standing in front of Wegmans, convincing people to buy sweatbands and bumper stickers. All right, so what about this one—college night. They need help organizing speakers and programs for the fall presentation.”

  Cara ducked her head, but not before Faith saw the leap of yearning in her eyes. “No,” she said. “Look, I’ll just do peer tutoring...”

  “Why would you shy away from college night? Come on.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “College isn’t on my radar, okay?”

  “Yes, it is. You’re not fooling anyone with that attitude,” said Faith. “I know you’re worried about finances, and you don’t need to be.”

  “Right, so tuition is going to come from...what? The Publishers Clearing House? Why bother thinking about college until I have enough scratch to pay for it?”

  “Listen, smarty-pants. I want you to dream as big as you can.”

  “What’s the point of that if it’s something that can never happen?”

  “We’re going to find a way. When I was in the city for that meeting about Alice’s upcoming surgery, I had an appointment at the financial aid office at Columbia.”

  Cara frowned. “You did?”

  “I want to see what’s possible for you,” Faith said.

  “Mom, there’s possible, and then there’s are you out of your gourd. I know the difference.”

  Faith pushed aside the laptop. “I feel bad that you’ve had to worry about finance at your age. I want you to believe anything is possible.”

  “Okay, whatever. Can we finish up here?”

  * * *

  Between the headphones of her iPod, an ancient power ballad about building a dream together filled Cara’s head. She wailed along with Grace Slick and Starship, but no matter how loudly she sang, she couldn’t drown out her frustration with her mom.

  Along with the singing, she scrubbed madly at the car. She had one more day of summer, and here she was all alone, pissed at her mom, ditched by her friends, with nothing to do. Bree had gone to the beach on Long Island with her family for the weekend. Milo had an annual Labor Day weekend at his grandparents’ place up at Saranac Lake. Cara didn’t really have any other friends, not the kind she could call just to hang out.

  She might as well make use of her time. Alice had hired her to detail the lift van inside and out in anticipation of the Labor Day picnic. When the chorus came up, she aimed the hose stream straight at the windshield for a final rinse. “Nothing’s gonna stop us now,” she belted out.

  “Good to know.” A voice penetrated the noise in her head.

  Startled, Cara swung around, spraying Mason Bellamy clean across his tailored white shirt. “Oh, shit,” she said, tugging off the headphones. “I’m so sorry!”

  He looked down at the soaking shirt, peeling it away from his chest. “Don’t worry about it. No harm done.”

  She shut off the water. “Sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t hear you. I had the music on really loud.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “Starship? Really? That’s even before my time.”

  She dumped her wash bucket down the driveway grate. “It’s my mom’s iPod. She has some really old stuff on her playlist.”

  “Be right back,” he said. “I’ll help you wipe down the van.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “True. But I’m going to.”

  Before she could reply, he went into the house, then came back a few minutes later wearing a plain T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. Cara was already up on a step stool, drying the roof. “Thanks,” she said, “but you should let me finish. It’s my job. I’m getting paid to do this.”

  “Do all you McCallum women have trouble accepting help?” he asked. “I think it runs in the family.”

  “Nah, Ruby would let people wait on her hand and foot if she could get away with it.” Cara flung a used towel as hard as she could into a laundry basket.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  She realized she was acting like a typical snotty teenager. Well, why the hell not? She was a teenager. She was supposed to be snotty. “I’m totally frustrated with my mom. On the one hand, she’s all, like, ‘You should follow your dreams and live the life you’ve always wanted.’”

  “And on the other hand?”

  “She’s like, ‘We can’t afford college tuition, so you’re going to have to work and go to community college at night.’”

  A curious expression crossed his face, but Cara couldn’t read him. Then she felt guilty. “I know I don’t have any right to complain, and I just need to deal with this on my own and not expect my mom to solve everything.”

  “But...”

  “I don’t even know where to start,” she mumbled.

  The van was finished, so she climbed up into the
driver’s seat. “Excuse me. I told Donno I would move this back into the garage.” Fortunately for her, Donno had backed the thing out and aimed it straight for the parking bay, so she just had to roll it forward. Still, she felt self-conscious with Mason standing there. Plus, she was such a dork behind the wheel. She wished she could just glide easily into the bay, but instead, she inched forward in fits and starts, taking what seemed like forever to move the van.

  “Done,” she said.

  “Good job.” He put away the bucket and carried the towels to the laundry. “Plans today?”

  She shrugged. “Nah.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Come with me.”

  She followed him out to the circular drive in front of the house. His car was parked there. As he approached, the door handles and side mirrors popped out, even though he didn’t touch the car or the key. “Get in the driver’s seat. I’m giving you a driving lesson.”

  “Whoa.” She didn’t need further persuasion. She ran around to the driver’s side, sank into the cushy leather and clipped on her seat belt. “This is awesome,” she said. “This rocks.”

  “Wait a minute. Go tell your mom. I’ll wait here.”

  Crap. She knew her mom would never go for it. Mom was funny about things like this. She’d want Cara to take the driver’s ed class at school and do everything by the book.

  Cara made a snap decision. “Okay,” she said. “Be right back.” She ran around the side of the house, having no intention of finding her mother. It was sneaky, but what the hell. How many chances was she going to get to drive a car like Mason’s? After a moment she returned and jumped in again.

  “Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I’m really excited.”

  “So your mom said okay.”

  “Think how much easier it’s going to be for her once I can drive,” Cara said, evading the issue. She found a lever to move the seat forward. “Wow, this is really different. No ignition?”

  “Nothing to ignite,” he said. “The car’s on. Just put your foot on the brake, and then you can put it in Drive.”

  “Got it.” She tried to act as if she did this all the time, finding the column shifter and easing it into gear. The car made a warning sound. Embarrassed, she looked over at Mason.

  “Relax,” he said. “Nobody is cool when they’re learning to drive. Trust me, nobody. Not even me.”

  She laughed and relaxed, and after that, the lesson went as smoothly as the electric car. He showed her the basics of operating the car, and then the magic happened. She put it in Drive and glided down the lane and out to the main road.

  “I’m driving,” she whispered. “Look at me. I’m driving.”

  “Yep, look at you.”

  He was a pretty good coach. He didn’t nag. He let her practice smooth acceleration and braking, and once she felt okay with that, they took the back way to the high school stadium parking lot. It was deserted, the perfect spot for practicing safe turns, signaling, braking, mirrors and blind spots, avoiding distractions and watching the road. He set up a course so she could practice lane changes and intersections. Then he got out of the car and made her practice awareness of her surroundings.

  That was when she discovered his acting skills. He pretended to be a clueless pedestrian staring at his phone screen, a little old man with a cane, a runaway toddler, a crazy homeless guy, complete with sound effects. His imitation of a deer sprinting across the road at night made her nearly pee her pants with laughter.

  “Okay,” she gasped, “I get it.”

  He got back in the car. “You have to expect the unexpected. Speaking of which, I spotted something interesting in the recycle bin the other day—a printout from your school. I’ve always known you were smart, but the report—”

  “Is none of your business.” Her neck and ears felt hot.

  “You ought to be proud of yourself for being a straight-A student, top ranked in your class with that demanding course load. Why not share your accomplishments and make your mom proud?”

  “She already knows about my test scores. And the class ranking... She’ll feel guilty about not being able to send me to college. I know you think it’s great, me getting good scores and all, but so what?”

  “So you build on your strengths, even if it seems impossible.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like to be in our situation. I just need to focus on getting a job and looking out for myself.”

  “Whoa, hey, slow down.” He laughed easily. “Do the world a favor and learn how to take a compliment. Better yet, learn how to reach out for help. Look at you, driving a car. Because you let me help you.”

  “It’s a driving lesson, not a bachelor’s degree.” She was mortified by her own words. “Thank you, though. Really. Thanks. I appreciate all you’ve done, and it’s really nice of you to encourage me, but I need to make my own way.”

  “That’s my point. You don’t need to go it alone. Talk to people. Your school counselor. Your mother. Hell, my mother. She could help you rock those applications.”

  Cara’s resentment dissolved completely. Just talking it out with him didn’t really solve anything, but she felt better. She felt less alone. “Okay,” she said. “I might.”

  “That’s all I ask. And now we’d better head home.”

  She nodded, though she hated for the lesson to end. Mason was just the nicest guy. He was the kind of guy she imagined her dad would have been if he was alive. The thought sobered her, and she focused intently on moving smoothly from the main road to the driveway.

  “You did really well,” he said.

  A wave of emotion rushed over her. “I wish we could do this every day.”

  “I’ll let Adam and Donno know. They’ll both take you driving.”

  The wave crested. The driving lesson had tapped into a sensitive spot, deep inside her. “I’d rather practice with you.”

  “Adam’s moving back,” he said. “And I’m heading to the city again. Doesn’t matter who teaches you, so long as it’s someone who knows what he’s doing.”

  She looked out the window, swallowing hard, but the lump in her throat wouldn’t dissolve.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “Just...I always pictured my dad teaching me to drive. It’s one of those things... I miss him. Even after all this time.”

  “Me, too,” he said after a long pause. “I miss my dad, too.”

  It was a horrible thing to have in common, but it made her feel closer to him. “What was he like?” she asked.

  “Complicated,” Mason said. “When I was a little kid, he seemed like your favorite sports coach and Santa Claus and the Pied Piper all rolled into one.”

  She smiled. “Sounds fun.”

  “It was, for a kid. But then...after I wasn’t a kid anymore, I saw his flaws. And still I miss him, flaws and all.”

  Cara wondered if she’d ever seen her father’s flaws. He must have had them. In a way, she was glad she couldn’t remember any, other than the fact that he’d had a fatal disease.

  “Someone’s here,” she said, noticing a pickup truck in the parking area.

  “Looks like my brother, Adam, has arrived.”

  “For a visit or for good?”

  “For good. Which means I’ll be leaving soon.”

  * * *

  Alice dreamed of running. It happened nearly every night, and the experience was as vivid and bright as the sunniest autumn day. She could hear the rhythm of her feet on the pavement and feel the breeze off the lake as she sped along the waterfront trail. Her arms pumped in rhythm with her heart and lungs. Her body, mind and spirit worked in perfect synchronicity. She was soaring without wings, her senses heightened, her awareness expanding to take in the whole world.

  Each morning, she hov
ered in the misty space between sleep and wakefulness, desperate to hold on to that sweet euphoria. Then reality would overtake her. She would open her eyes and greet the body she now had, lying exactly the way she’d been left the night before. Then she would turn toward the bedside monitor, call for help, and her day would begin.

  At the sound of Alice’s voice, Bella climbed onto the bed and licked Alice’s chin. And the dog’s bright eyes conveyed exactly the message Alice’s heart needed—I love you. I’m here to help. What can I do for you?

  “How did I ever get along without you, huh?” Alice asked. She was able to pat Bella with an awkward shift of one arm. “Just you wait,” she said. “A few months from now, I’ll be grooming you like a pro.”

  Lena arrived, and Alice asked her to take extra care with her hair and makeup. It wasn’t often she had all three of her kids together at the same time, so this was a special day.

  Shaking off the last of the running dream, Alice mentally embraced the life she had. Then she went in search of her children.

  In the lounge room, she glanced at her reflection in a wall mirror before going outside. What she saw made her smile. “You’re a lazy little thing, aren’t you, Bella Ballou?” she said to the small dog in her lap. “You’re supposed to be my service dog, but you expect me to be your chauffeur.”

  She stopped the chair at the French doors that opened to the patio. Bella looked up expectantly.

  “Just a second,” Alice said, savoring the sight of her two sons and her daughter, sitting outside, engaged in an animated discussion. Her eyes blurred with tears of happiness to see them all together again. She blinked fast, determined not to let it smear her makeup.

  Adam had just returned from Montana, where he had finished his special training and survived a round of working as a smoke jumper. Alice hadn’t seen Adam or Ivy since the beginning of summer, and both had changed. It reminded her of summers past, when they were kids returning from camp, inches taller, bronzed and muscled by sun and sports, dragging their disreputable duffel bags to the laundry room.

  Only this time, Ivy had arrived pulling a sleek Rollaboard and Adam with a Jeep loaded with turnout gear and arson investigation equipment. Ivy had always been lovely; now, after a summer in Paris, she had that special continental louche, wearing a gauzy neck scarf and couture shades with negligent ease. Adam was even tougher than ever, his muscles rippling beneath a T-shirt that had seen better days. He needed a haircut, although Alice actually liked his unkempt tumble of dark curls; it reminded her of how adorable he was as a little boy.