Don't Make Plans

by Ava Armstrong

  When he got back to the house, dad was just returning from a real estate appointment. Always filled with energy, his father met him in the driveway as the cab dropped him off.

  “Ready to take on the world? Where did you go? Applying for a job, I hope.”

  “Not exactly.” Kent avoided his stare.

  “What was that all about, last night?”

  “I have a tough time sleeping. It’ll go away, eventually.”

  “Is it PTSD? We had guys go through all kinds of shit in Desert Storm and they never said they had PTSD. Christ, they just fought, got hurt, came home. We had lots of stress. We won the damned war. So, have they labeled you with PTSD?”

  “No! I don’t have PTSD, damn it.” Kent felt himself fuming. “It’s just a sleep problem, that’s all.”

  “Oh, good. Because they’ll take your guns away and you’ll never get a job with PTSD on your medical discharge documents. Just so you know.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “So, when are you going to start looking for work?”

  His father’s phone rang and Kent saw him glance at the number and grimace.

  “It’s your grandfather. He’s been having problems lately. Excuse me, Kent.”

  Kent listened to the conversation, happy that the phone call interrupted a tense moment. His father did more listening than talking to Gramps. Ha! It had always been that way between them. Gramps was a World War II veteran and he took no crap from anyone. In fact, Gramps was the only person who could dress down his father in that manner. Many a time, Kent sat at his grandfather’s knee and listened to him argue some point with his father. He would secretly root for Gramps to go toe-to-toe with him, and imagined he probably did when his dad was a young wise-ass.

  The phone call ended and Kent noticed dad’s exasperated sigh.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The old coot – he won’t listen to anyone. They took his driver’s license away. He refuses any help and hangs with that bunch from the VFW up there – you remember. Hell, he took you to the VFW when you were four years old. Imagine taking a four-year-old to a barroom?”

  “He’s not an old coot. He’s a great man.” Kent couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out.

  “Well, if you could see the deplorable conditions he’s living in, you’d probably change your mind about that. The house is just about ready to be condemned. He’s stubborn. He refuses to move into a home.”

  “You mean a nursing home?” Kent couldn’t imagine his grandfather ever going to a nursing home. He’d die with his boots on.

  “No. They have a place for him at this veteran’s home up in Maine. They have levels of care. I’ve tried to convince him to sell the house and go live there…but, he won’t even talk about it. Last time he told me to go to hell.”

  “I’d like to go visit him. I haven’t talked with Gramps for a long time. Since…you know…all of this happened. It’s been a couple of years.” Kent found himself thinking of driving to Maine. Then, wondered what the hell he’d do once he got there. Oddly, his father said exactly what Kent was thinking.

  “Hey, that’s a good idea. Maybe he won’t yell at you. Rent a car and drive on up to Maine. I’ll pay for it. Visit your grandfather. Report back to me, marine. I want the facts, and let me know what he’s doing…and not doing.”

  Kent saluted, “Yes, sir.”Kent’s phone buzzed and he had a buyer for the ring. Good. He needed the money right now.

  CHAPTER 3

  Paige Hathaway had just finished the worst day at work she ever could have imagined. It didn’t help that she hated her job. Being an underwriter with an insurance company was about as mind-numbing as a job could get. She often stared out of the huge plate glass windows on these early sun-filled spring days and wondered what everyone else was doing while she got a headache from fluorescent lighting. It was the first few warm days of the year and everyone had sick days they hadn’t taken. Three of her coworkers had called out, leaving her to fill in. If she didn’t need the job so much, she would’ve taken a sick day, too. But, as it was, being a single parent, she usually used her paid time off for those days when her son was truly ill.

  As she wound her way home in her Mini-Cooper, she noticed the oil-change light come on. Darn! It seemed to be one thing after another today. The traffic was so thick, she decided to take the highway to get to her son’s school. Justin had just turned eight last week and she hoped he had a better day at school than she did at work. As Paige pulled onto the highway, she noticed the traffic there was just as congested. Tourists – they were everywhere – but then, she did live in Vacationland – the State of Maine. There were scarcely a million year ‘round residents in the 30,000 square miles of the state, but during the summer and fall months that population ballooned, especially in the southern part along the coastline. Paige wondered why she’d bought a house in the town of Crystal Cove. It was a little insignificant bedroom community most of the year, but in the summer months it swelled with visitors who mostly stayed at an RV park on the white sandy beach at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean.

  Finally, after thirty minutes of staring at the red service light on her dashboard, and dodging cars weaving in and out of traffic, she arrived at her son’s school. She was surprised to be met in the front hallway by Miss Adams.

  “Hello…I’m not that late, am I?” Paige pushed her hair out of her face and squinted at the clock on the wall.

  “It’s not that.” Miss Adams spoke in a hushed voice. “It’s Justin. He’s had a rough day. I just wanted to warn you. You might need to increase his medication tonight. Maybe he needs a good night’s sleep.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Justin came in this morning with an attitude. It didn’t matter what we did in class or who sat next to him, he just wanted to get out of here. At least that’s what he told me when I pulled him aside.” Miss Adams adjusted her glasses nervously. “And, to be honest with you, I think he meant it.”

  “You think he’d just run away or something like that?” Paige couldn’t believe what she was thinking and saying, but a tinge of fear shot through her. “He was fine this morning driving in. He didn’t talk a lot, but that’s not unusual for Justin.”

  “Well, he kicked another child today and was put into time-out for that. And, I had a little talk with him and told him the next time he will go to the principal’s office and be punished.”

  “I’d like to talk with him about this tonight. I’ll take him home now. Gosh, I thought I was the only one who had a bad day.” Paige exhaled. She propped her sunglasses atop her head and marched behind Miss Adams to Justin’s classroom. There he sat, gazing outside watching the other children on the playground as they waited to be picked up. His big brown eyes were tear-filled when they met hers.

  “Mom!” Justin’s voice squeaked as he ran to embrace her.

  “It’s okay. We will go home and I’ll make dinner. We can talk tonight, Justin, okay?”

  No response, but a tiny smile. Paige would take that for now. After saying goodnight to Miss Adams, the two buckled up in the car for the ride home. Justin remained silent, but seemed to be deep in thought as his eyes scanned the scenes passing the car window.

  Paige remembered the first day at school. It hadn’t been easy. That was just after his father had put him in the hospital. He was processing the trauma. After that first few months of school, Paige was contacted by Miss Adams. In the wake of several disruptive incidents, Paige’s appeals fell on deaf ears. Justin was referred to the school psychologist. It was decided by the teacher, psychologist and principal to separate Justin from his classmates for several hours a day to maintain calm in the classroom. Paige had arranged doctor visits, therapy sessions with own counselor, and eventually caved in and tried medication. The medication, usually used for ADHD, made Justin even more quiet. He now refused to talk with the school psychologist. Over the last few months, he’d become withdrawn from the few school friends he’d made.

  Despit
e of all the steps being taken, things seemed to be getting worse, not better. School had devolved into something her son hated. Paige glanced at his sweet face in the rearview mirror. He had been a normal baby. His disposition was sweet, until about two years ago, when his father split, and Paige fell apart. The social worker at school told her things would get better once Justin had an established routine. But, it hadn’t happened yet and now he was struggling to keep up.

  As she drove down Elm Street, her familiar small neighborhood, Paige noticed a fancy car in the driveway of one of her neighbors. It was a Cadillac Escalade, a pure white one. Hmm. That seemed funny. Old McCabe didn’t even have a driver’s license, let alone a vehicle. She knew because she had given him a lift to the VFW numerous times. He must have a visitor. The license plate was from Rhode Island. She knew his son lived there and was a real estate guru, or so the old man had told her. McCabe had shared many stories, especially when she walked her dog, Thor, by his house. He loved dogs and late afternoons were spent sitting on the front porch with him as he regaled her with tales about his favorite dogs -- and occasionally, he’d talk about World War II. These stories often ended with her giving him a lift to the VFW.

  Paige turned into her driveway, hopped out and moved to the other side of her vehicle still staring at the Cadillac in McCabe’s driveway. As she opened the door for Justin, his big brown eyes locked with hers.

  “What’s for dinner, mom?

  “I thought I’d make tacos tonight.”

  “Yes! I love tacos!”

  “After dinner, do you want to go with me to walk Thor?”

  “Yes, mom.”

  “Why don’t you help me in the kitchen? You’re getting pretty good at this taco-making stuff.”

  “Okay, mom!”

  “And, Justin…we need to talk about kicking in school.”

  “He hit me, mom. I didn’t kick him hard. Really, I didn’t.”

  For a split second, Paige looked at her son and he seemed completely fine. If she hadn’t heard Miss Adams’ report about his day, she would’ve assumed everything was normal. Thor greeted them at the door and Paige put his leash on and took him into the backyard. As she made her way from the front yard, she noticed a tall rugged man taking what looked like a couple of duffle bags out of the Cadillac. She didn’t stare, but hooked Thor’s leash to the run and waited for a few minutes, unable to ignore the stranger.

  Once inside, Justin helped her make tacos and a salad. She whipped up a milkshake in the blender to top it all off.

  “My belly’s full.” Justin leaned back. “Can we watch TV, mom?”

  “Let’s take Thor for his walk. It will help your belly. And, we still need to talk about kicking people…”

  “Okay, here’s his leash.”

  Justin eagerly complied. Good. The warmth of the spring day was waning and a cool sea breeze was coming over the water and reaching back into her neighborhood. The seafood shacks a few blocks away were filled with tourists. The dog-walking route took her straight by McCabe’s place. The closer she got, she realized the stranger standing on the front lawn talking to him was too young to be his son. Paige wondered who he was. McCabe rarely had company. This dude was in his late 20’s she guessed, wearing cargo shorts and a camo T-shirt. Damn, he was ripped – definitely, into physical fitness. Maybe he was a trainer or something. As she got closer, she noticed the ink on his well-defined biceps, thick cropped hair, and the way his neck muscles connected with his back muscles which tapered to a solid waist. Her eyes swept over what appeared to be a prosthetic leg. Oh god, he was turning her way. Stop staring, she mentally chastised herself as she swept her hair away from her face. Thank goodness, she remembered to wear sunglasses.

  * * *

  Kent McCabe was hauling everything he owned out of the rented Cadillac when a figure walking a dog caught his eye. He did not stare at her overtly, but glimpsed and turned so she’d think he was busy doing something. Then, without warning, he heard his grandfather yell at the woman.

  “Paige! Hey, come over here. I want you to meet my grandson.”

  Kent felt his face flush, not just from the warmth of the day, but sheer horror. He was wearing shorts and his prosthetic was on display. And, here was this beautiful woman walking what looked like a black Labrador Retriever, along with a young boy. She seemed shy. He could tell by her body language. She didn’t stride right over like she owned the place. The dog was familiar with Gramps; Kent knew dogs well. The boy hung behind his mother. He was shy, too.

  Gramps, always the gentleman, made a proper introduction. “Paige Hathaway – this is my war hero grandson – Kent McCabe. He just got back from Iraq. I see you have my buddies with you today, Justin and Thor!”

  Kent knelt in front of Paige for a moment to let Thor get to know him, and sure enough, the dog licked his face. He stood slowly and extended his hand to Paige.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  Kent instantly felt her eyes sweep over him, and he sensed she saw the prosthetic.

  “And, don’t listen to Gramps. I’m no war hero. I’d like to meet this young man – Justin, is it?”

  “Yes, I’m Justin.”

  The boy’s eyes met his, and Kent couldn’t suppress the smile when Justin spoke.

  “Pleased to meet you, Kent McCabe, war hero. This is Thor, my wonder dog.”

  Kent noticed Paige stifled a giggle when her son spoke so eloquently. He tried like hell not to notice how gorgeous she was. Her long dark hair was pulled back and she had been perspiring, but her blushing complexion was not just from the warmth of the day. As the sunlight touched her, he caught the glimmer of her beautiful eyes – he wondered, were they green or blue? He couldn’t tell because she didn’t take her sunglasses off, only peered at him above them for a few seconds. Again, the shyness – there was a reticence about this woman. Thick dark eyelashes cast downward and she gently pulled the dog away sliding her shades back up.

  “I’d love to stop and talk with you Mr. McCabe, and Kent, but we’ve got to get Thor on his walk. He’s been cooped up all day. You know how that is, if you have a dog! Nice to meet you, Kent.”

  Her voice was feminine and sweet. He loved the way she said his name. Kent wanted to follow her, go on the walk and ask her a million questions. But, that would be rude. If he invited himself like that, he might spook her. She’d think he was some sort of stalker. He waved to Paige and Justin as they left the driveway and smiled. Oh yes. He would get all the information he could out of Gramps. Apparently, these two knew one another.

  As soon as Paige was out of earshot, Kent turned to Gramps. The elder man had an enigmatic smile and adjusted his glasses as he watched Paige sashay down the street.

  “Well, come on – out with it…” Kent hissed. “You know her?”

  “Yes, of course I know her – she’s my neighbor.”

  “Uh huh. Do tell. I want to know everything…every little detail.”

  “She’s divorced. She doesn’t date anyone. She’s nervous about getting involved again.”

  “Damn. I knew it, the nervous part.”

  “She has good reason to feel that way.” Gramps was being mysterious.

  “Okay. I’ll bite. What’s her story?”

  “He was in prison for a while. She got beaten badly by him. The little boy, too.” Gramps’ expression turned serious.

  “Oh damn. I hate those animals. Guys like that need to have someone punch their lights out and see how it feels.”

  “Okay – down boy – cool off.” Gramps waved his hand. “Root beer?” Gramps handed him a cold one.

  “Thanks. My favorite. They only make this in Maine, you know. I can’t seem to get it anywhere else.”

  Kent took a long pull on the foam and the sweet concoction flowed through his veins.

  “Come on, squirt. You’re gonna take me down to the VFW in that Cadillac. The guys will get a kick out of it. And, they’ll all want to meet you.”

  Gramps polished off his root beer
in a few swigs.

  “One thing, Gramps, you’ve gotta promise me…”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “Don’t introduce me as a war hero…please.”

  “Well, you got a silver star, I know that…”

  “Come on, Gramps. I’m asking you as a favor.”

  “Okay, okay, let’s go. It’s happy hour.”

  Gramps climbed into the Cadillac Escalade with a toothy grin.

  “They’re gonna love this! Ha!”

  “Yeah, well you’re gonna tell me all about Paige Hathaway tonight, and don’t leave anything out. I’m buying the drinks.”

  “Sure. Let’s see. I’d better tell you before I start drinking. Her husband’s name is Jeremy and he’s in the pokey. Paige divorced him a couple of months ago, while he was in there. This trouble all started about two years ago, I think. Jeremy, that’s her ex-husband – he was drunk one night. He’s a mean drunk, that one. He beat that little boy and he knocked Paige around, too. I mean it was awful. The police came, they took him to jail, and Paige and Justin were in the hospital for a few days. Whole neighborhood saw it happen. Watch out for him, squirt. I’m telling you, he’s trouble.”

  “Yeah – well you don’t know trouble.”

  “Damn, I don’t. That Jeremy Hathaway is trouble. He’s got a terrible drinking problem for starters. And, he’s a big man, strong. I don’t know how the hell Paige lived with him for all those years.”

  “How long was she married?”

  “Eight years.”

  “That’s not long.”

  “It’s an eternity if you’re married to an abusive prick.”

  Gramps glanced over and his eyes met Kent’s.

  “We are now at my home away from home…let’s go meet the guys.”