Small-Town Dad

by Jean C. Gordon

  “You’re interested in PV?”

  “Kind of. I am an electrician.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. It did give him some expertise in that area. “Tell you what. I’ll talk with Gary, and we’ll make that the focus of your work study.”

  Neal looked at her, his expression inscrutable. She rocked on the balls of her feet.

  “Fine with me,” he said after an interminable couple of seconds.

  That was it? No thanks for rejiggering the work study to suit his interests? But why should he? It wasn’t like he’d asked her to change it. She had to stop trying to make her contact with Neal more than it was—an instructor supervising a student.

  “You know that you’ll be required to work ten hours a week.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Check your schedule and let me know what times are best for you.”

  “Will do.”

  At least she was getting a response now, sparse as it was. They completed the circle and approached the site office.

  “For this week, you can look over the project proposal and the preliminary data on the energy demands it may create and start researching a solar power option.”

  She pushed her hair behind her ear. Was that relief she saw in his more relaxed stance?

  “I have the building proposal in my case in the office, along with internet links to the local and state codes.”

  Neal kicked a rock out of their path with his work boot. “I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  His belated thanks didn’t bring any satisfaction. “I like to see students engaged in their work.”

  “I see.” His toneless words mirrored her lack of inflection.

  He reached around her for the door handle. She watched the play of his biceps as he opened the office door for her, and her mind flashed back to dancing in his strong arms at the mixer on Friday. It would be far too easy to let her relationship with Neal become more than simply that of a teacher-mentor. Not that Neal had given her any indication he wanted anything more from her than a professional relationship. Or even that, she thought, remembering that he had requested Jeff replace her as his academic advisor.

  He cleared his throat and Anne realized she was standing on the step blocking the door.

  She moved into the office and across the room to Gary’s desk where she’d left her case. “I’ll get those plans and code books for you.”

  She removed the documents from her case and handed them to him. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know about my schedule.”

  “Great, and if you have any questions, just ask.”

  “I don’t now, but if I do, I’ll get back to you.”

  He tapped the documents she’d given him against his thigh, reminding her that he’d said he had to get to a job. But she wasn’t ready to let him go.

  “I forgot to ask you...”

  “What?” His brow creased and the tapping increased in tempo.

  “Do you have a new niece or nephew?”

  His features softened. “That’s right. You weren’t at church yesterday.”

  “No, I went to service at the Corner Stone Church in Ticonderoga. I’m still church shopping.” Although by far, she’d liked the Hazardtown Community Church the best of the several she’d tried. “So tell me about the baby.”

  “It’s a girl. Isabelle Genevieve Hazard Stacey. Eight pounds, two ounces. Twenty-two inches long.”

  “That’s quite the name.”

  “Isabelle is because Jinx and Drew like it, Hazard—no hyphen—is to carry on the family name, and Genevieve is for my Grandma Hazard. She passed shortly after I came back from Afghanistan.”

  “I’m sorry. She lived in the big old house at the four corners where the new firehouse is now, right?”

  “Yes, that’s where the first Hazards had their trading post store. She and Grandpa sold it to the fire district when the old fire house burned down and bought a condo in Florida.”

  “It’s sad to see property sold out of a family,” Anne said, thinking of her own grandmother’s house.

  “We still have Lakeside.”

  “You and your sister plan to continue to run the campground when your father retires?”

  “Jinx and I already own it in partnership with my parents.” His rugged face beamed with boyish pride.

  A partnership in the family campground, his electrician business and his return to college. Anne admired all that Neal had done with his life, despite the obstacles placed in his way. Or maybe because of them.

  “Most of the property is rented to the Sonrise Camp and Convention Center, so there’s not much to running it anymore, aside from renting out the big houses to the few families that come for vacation every year. The kids we played with when their parents vacationed here come with their families now.”

  Anne couldn’t quell the jealousy stirred up inside her by the happy family picture Neal’s words painted in her mind. She could barely imagine those kinds of deep family roots and connection to one place.

  “Jinx and I had some great summers at the campground, even if she did try her best to get out of anything outdoors, especially if it involved work.”

  “Speaking of your sister,” Anne said too brightly, “are she and Isabelle home? I have a little gift for the baby.”

  “They came home on Monday.”

  “Do you think Emily would mind if I stopped by and dropped it off later in the week?”

  “No, not at all. She and Drew have an apartment in the lodge at the campground. Do you have her phone number?”

  “No.”

  Neal reeled it off, and Anne punched the numbers into her cell phone.

  “You might want to stop by and visit Mom, too. She mentioned that she didn’t get to catch up with you at coffee hour the Sunday you came to the service at Community. She likes to be on top of what everyone is doing.”

  “I remember.” What she remembered was that Mary Hazard had been interested in who Annie O’Connor was as a person—unlike her parents, who saw her as some kind of accomplishment to tout to friends.

  “I’d better get going.”

  “I’ll look for the email about your schedule.”

  She bit her lip and watched through the hazy trailer window as he drove off.

  * * *

  Neal caught up with his father at one of the campground cabins. “Hey, Dad. Starting without me?”

  “No, making a graceful escape. Your mother and I came down to give Emily a hand. But the girl talk got too intense, so I decided it was time to leave.”

  Neal laughed. “I’m surprised Drew isn’t here with you.”

  “He had some paperwork to catch up on in his office.”

  “Sure he did. You know Mom and Jinx probably did that on purpose to get rid of you guys.”

  “I couldn’t have been married to your mother for almost thirty-eight years and not have learned how to read her.”

  “Is that something you caught on to right away, or did it take time?” Neal placed his toolbox on the cabin floor and squatted to open it.

  “It took a while.”

  Neal fiddled with the latch on the box, the hairs on his neck rising as he sensed his father’s gaze on him.

  “I hear from your sister that you’re seeing an instructor at the college. Someone you know from high school.”

  Emily told Dad he was seeing Anne? Neal was hard-pressed to imagine how that topic had come up between his father and sister. Mom was the one who was concerned about his dating status.

  “I’m not seeing Anne.” He flipped the toolbox open with a bang.

  “But you’d like to be.”

  He looked up at his father. “Did Mom put you up to this?”

  His father snor
ted. “Your mother doesn’t put me up to things.”

  Neal wasn’t going to touch that statement with a ten-foot pole. He pulled the tool tray from the box and straightened to his full height. “Anne’s supervising my work study.”

  “I suppose that could be a problem if you want it to be. Got twist caps in there?”

  “Yes, Dad, I’ve done this a few times before.” He shuffled his feet. “Anne owns Green Spaces Engineering.”

  “Isn’t that the outfit from Boston that’s putting up the new hospital in Ticonderoga?”

  “The birthing center. Green Spaces is one of the biggest environmental engineering and consulting firms in the country.”

  “And?” his dad asked.

  “I’m just an electrician.” He studied the service wire coming into the cabin. His dad could have easily finished this job himself, except code required a licensed electrician to inspect the interior wiring and make the final hookup.

  “Nothing wrong with that. And you’re going to college.”

  Neal connected the service wire from the main lodge to the wiring his father had installed in the cabin and snapped the twist cap over the connection. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for college,” he said to the wall.

  “Not everyone is.”

  While Neal usually appreciated his father’s habit of not giving advice unless asked, he wouldn’t have minded a little more than the simple agreement Dad was offering.

  “The only class I’m interested in is my work study.” And that was going to require spending one-on-one time with Anne. He dropped the tool tray back in the box. “As part of it, I’m going to look at the possibilities of using solar power to reduce the energy costs of the center.”

  “Like the panel that runs the light at the state park boat launch?”

  “But on a bigger scale. I wouldn’t mind teaming up with the solar company to do the installation and maybe pick up some more work doing other installations.”

  “Sounds like a good opportunity to me. Take all you can from the work study and finish up the semester. Nothing says you have to go back next semester.”

  “If only it were that easy.”

  “Wait. You think this girl won’t go out with you because you don’t have a college degree?”

  “It’s got nothing to do with Anne.”

  “She’s not worth it if she can’t accept who you are,” his dad said as if he hadn’t spoken.

  Neal snapped the toolbox cover shut. “How many cabins did you say are ready for hookups?”

  “All ten.”

  “We’d better get to it, then.” Neal picked up his tools and headed out the door.

  “If it’s eating at you that much,” his father said to his retreating back, “you might want to give it up to God. Ask Him what He thinks.”

  Neal let the words roll over him. He’d been thinking of doing just that. The problem was he wasn’t sure he was ready for His answer.

  Chapter Six

  “Hello,” Mary Hazard called as she walked through the back door of the lodge into Emily and Drew’s apartment.

  “Out on the deck,” Emily called back.

  Mary placed the groceries on the counter and waved Anne through the kitchen to the living room.

  She peered around Mary and through the screen door to the small crowd congregated on the deck. “It looks like they have company.”

  “No. Only family.” Mary slid the screen open. “Look who I found at the Grand Union.”

  “Anne,” Emily said. “Come out and join us. Drew has some steaks on the grill. We thought we’d eat out here.”

  Anne hovered by the door and scanned the group. There was Emily, Drew, Emily’s father, Ted, Autumn, a young man who must be her boyfriend—and Neal, leaning against the deck rail with a bemused expression on his face. She lifted her hand to her head to make sure she didn’t have a maple leaf or something stuck in her hair.

  “You’re having dinner. I don’t want to intrude. I have a little gift for Isabelle. I’ll just drop it off and be on my way.” Back to Grandma’s too quiet, empty house.

  “You’re not intruding,” Mary said. “Sit down. You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

  Emily’s husband, Drew, unfolded a lawn chair at the head of the picnic table. “There you go.”

  “Okay. But I can only stay for a few minutes.” Anne handed a small wrapped package to Emily.

  Emily took the gift. “You shouldn’t have, but we’ll take it.” She grinned and tore the wrapping off.

  “They’re onesies,” Anne explained. “My friend Reenie said she couldn’t get enough of them when her son, my godson, Ian, was an infant.”

  Emily ripped open the plastic package and held the little garment with pink and blue bunnies up in front of Isabelle. The infant squirmed in the baby seat on the table, rubbed her eyes and yawned.

  “She loves it,” Emily said.

  “Really,” Neal drawled. “And here I thought she was getting sleepy.”

  Emily placed the onesie in her lap and picked up the other one with yellow and green bears. “Obviously, you’ve had far fewer conversations with Izzie than I have. If she were sleepy, she would have yawned first before rubbing her eyes.”

  “Is she serious?” Neal asked his brother-in-law.

  “Dead serious. I’m still learning baby. I often have Em translate for me.”

  “It’s girl baby, bro. We may never be fluent.”

  “True.”

  “Stop,” Emily ordered. “And get back to grilling my dinner. I’m starved.”

  “You’ve been starved since you found out we were expecting Isabelle.” Drew gave his wife a loving perusal that expanded to include his daughter.

  Anne settled and resettled herself in the lawn chair and picked at a rough spot in her fingernail as she struggled to control the intense craving to belong that the easy banter raised.

  “What can I say? This eating for two is tough.”

  Neal pushed away from the railing. “Can’t have you wasting away in front of our eyes. Did you get the salsa and chips, Mom?”

  “They’re on the counter in the kitchen.”

  “You’re staying, Anne?” he asked.

  She jerked her head up. Was he offering a real invitation? Her pulse quickened. His open expression said yes. But, after his standoffish demeanor this morning, she suspected he was simply politely extending his mother’s invitation.

  “Of course she’s staying. Go get the chips.” His mother waved him into the house. “You don’t have other plans, do you?”

  A perfect opportunity to beg off. Except she didn’t have anywhere else to go. “No, I’m free.”

  “Good. We have plenty.” Mary sat on the edge of the picnic table bench. “Autumn made a potato salad. It’s her specialty.”

  “Because it’s my favorite and, if I don’t make it, no one else will.”

  “Poor deprived baby,” Emily said.

  Autumn good-naturedly stuck her tongue out at her aunt.

  Anne tensed, waiting for Mary to reprimand her granddaughter for her “unladylike behavior” as Anne’s mother would have done to her.

  Mary ignored them both. “I picked up the fixings for a tossed salad. Autumn, will you run in and see what’s taking your father so long?”

  “Sure.” She left with her friend trailing after her and returned a couple of minutes later with the salsa and chips.

  “Food,” Emily said as she scooped up salsa with a tortilla chip and popped it in her mouth.

  Autumn and her friend sat on the picnic bench across the table from Emily. “Dad’s making the salad.”

  “Good. As soon as the steaks are done, we’ll be set.” Mary slid the screen door open for Neal, who carried a large wooden salad bowl in one hand
and a place setting in the other.

  He put the salad on the table and the plate and flatware in front of Anne before he sat on the picnic bench to her right.

  “Steaks are done.” Drew carried a large platter to the table and sat next to his wife.

  Mary and Ted took their seats.

  “Autumm, would you say the blessing?” her grandfather asked.

  Emily reached for Anne’s left hand and Neal for her right one. His fingers were warm and his grip strong. Anne closed her eyes and bowed her head, silently chiding herself for noticing.

  “Bless this food to our use, and us to thy service. Fill our hearts with grateful praise. Amen,” Autumn finished.

  Emily and Neal released Anne’s hands. She dropped her right hand to her lap and flexed her fingers. What was with her? It wasn’t as if she’d never held a man’s hand in prayer.

  “Guests first,” Mary said. “Anne, pass your plate to Drew.”

  Drew placed a steak on the plate, passed it back and then served the others. The meal passed quickly in a torrent of friendly chatter. When everyone had finished, Mary stood and picked up her and Ted’s plates.

  “Can I do anything to help?” Anne asked.

  “Yes,” Emily chimed in ahead of her mother. “You can come and keep me company while I change Izzie.”

  Isabelle seconded her mother’s invitation with a loud wail.

  “Yes, I know.” Emily picked up her daughter and comforted her. “This way.”

  She led Anne back into the lodge to a small bedroom off the living room. The view out of the window showcased the campground’s pine forest that seemed to go on forever.

  “It’s so quiet and serene here.”

  “For now, except for this imp.” Emily placed Isabelle on her Winnie the Pooh changing table. “Summers when camp is in session are something else. We had five hundred campers this year.”

  Anne watched in admiration while Emily changed Isabelle with an expertise that belied her new motherhood. “You make that look so easy.” Anne’s own experience with diapers the couple of times she’d babysat Ian for Reenie had gone nowhere near as smoothly.