“We’re going to call this one Poppy!” Trixie says on a giggle.
“Hell, yeah, we are,” Mr. Jacobson sings out. Everyone knows that Jake and the kids all call the old man Pop.
“We are not going to call her Poppy,” Jake corrects.
“We’ll see,” Trixie says with a grin. She dances in front of Miles as he watches her intently.
“Does he have a bottle?” Katie asks.
I reach into the diaper bag at my side and pull one out. She takes it from me, and she settles Miles into the crook of her arm. Trixie migrates over to talk to Sam and Kerry-Anne. Trixie and Kerry-Anne played together for a few hours today and they became instant best friends.
“When does chemo start?” Katie questions as she feeds Miles.
“In two days,” I reply. “They set me up at a clinic near here.”
“So if they’re still doing chemo, there’s still hope, right?” she asks, her voice so soft it seems almost breakable, like fine porcelain. Like if we say the words too loudly they’ll shatter, and the pieces will strike everyone in the area.
I shake my head. “It might buy me a couple of months.”
“Oh,” she replies, and she blinks hard again.
I reach out and cover her arm with my palm, giving it a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.”
It’s not. It’s not going to be okay. But it’ll have to be.
“Gabby will be here to watch the kids, right?” I’d set it up with Jake a couple of weeks ago when I called to confirm plans with him.
She nods and glances down at her watch. “She should be here already.” Her brow furrows. But almost as soon as the creases appeared, they disappear when we hear the crunch of tires on gravel. “That’s her.” She jumps to her feet and hands Miles to Mr. Jacobson, who doesn’t even flinch. He just settles my son against his big old belly and tips him backward so he’s comfortable.
Katie runs toward the side of the porch and down toward the driveway. I hear some squeals and happy giggles and it makes my heart warm inside. I’ve heard that parents of adult children spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to get them to come home.
“It’s like that every time she comes home,” Jake says. He rolls his eyes, grins, and shakes his head like her excitement about Gabby coming home is silly.
“Act like you’re not itching to run out there too, why don’t you?” Mr. Jacobson teases. Jake grins and sets the tongs down, then goes after Katie. He walks back around the corner a few minutes later with his arm slung around the shoulders of a brunette who looks just like Katie did when she was young.
“Jesus, she’s Katie’s doppelganger,” I say.
“About as sweet as Katie is, too,” Mr. Jacobson says. “But don’t play cards with her. She’ll rob you blind.”
“Duly noted.” I nod toward Miles. “Do you want me to take him?”
Mr. Jacobson looks down his nose at Miles. “He looks pretty content. Might as well leave him.” He nods toward the grill that Jake abandoned. “You might want to turn those burgers, though.”
I get up and go to turn the burgers, because when Mr. Jacobson speaks, you follow directions.
“Aaron, this is my daughter, Gabby,” Katie says. I shake hands with the young brunette and still can’t get over how much she looks like her mother did when she was young.
“You look just like your mom did at your age.”
Gabby looks from me to her and back. “You guys knew one another when you were young?”
Jake barks out a laugh. “Knew one another? We were all inseparable. It was A and Lynda, me and your mom, and Elijah and Bess. Katie was only here that one year. And then there was Fred.” Jake shakes his head.
“Whatever happened to Fred?” I ask. “Didn’t he get married?"
Jake barks out a laugh.”To my ex-wife.”
“How’s that working out for him?” I ask. I grin at Jake.
“It’s not. She left a few months ago. Left him and the baby.” Jake looks like the idea of it disturbs him. “I hope he works it all out soon.” He looks over at Katie. “How old were we that summer? Fifteen? Sixteen?”
She nods and smiles at him. “We thought we knew everything.” She rolls her eyes dramatically.
“You knew my mom?” Sam asks, and my heart turns over in my chest. She never talks about her mom with me.
Jake’s eyes meet mine, like he’s acknowledging the weight his next words will have in my daughter’s life. “I did. Your mother was fierce, even back then,” Jake says.
Mr. Jacobson chuckles. “The six of them used to streak around on their bikes, terrorizing the whole campground.”
“We did have a lot of fun,” Katie says, her eyes bright and shining.
“We did,” I agree.
“When will Eli and Bess get here?” Katie asks.
“Tomorrow, I think.”
“Do they know?” Katie asks. She doesn’t go into detail.
“Eli knows. Don’t know if he’s told Bess,” I admit.
“I don’t think they do a lot of talking lately,” Jake says. He lets out a long, low whistle.
“I’m surprised they’re still married,” Katie tosses in. “I’ll be even more surprised if she actually shows up.”
She has to show up. I need her too much. I need all of them right now. When I found out I was dying, I couldn’t think of anywhere else I wanted to be. I wanted to come home. I wanted to bring my kids here and give them the best summer of their lives. It’ll be my last one, but I’m determined it will be one they remember forever and ever. It’ll be the summer that cannot be compared to others. It will be perfect. Or I’ll die trying.
The latter is inevitable, I know.
3
Bess
It’s after midnight when we get to Lake Fisher. The drive was long and tiring, and I wasn’t even behind the wheel. Instead, I worked the whole way here while Eli drove. Well, he drove and hummed along to the radio. And breathed. I keep telling him to cut that shit out, but he won’t accommodate my request. He ignores me entirely when I tell him that his breathing annoys me.
In fact, everything about him annoys me. The way he cracks his knuckles. The hair he leaves in the sink after he shaves. The way he puts the cap back on the toothpaste tube so tightly that I can’t use it. All those things annoy the hell out of me.
I know why we’re here. He’s hoping that by coming back to this place where we met, we can rekindle that old flame we once had. But that flame has long since burned out. It’s dead. I had him served with divorce papers two weeks ago, and he asked me to come here, to this place, to help him pack up the cabin so we can sell it before the divorce goes through. There are lots of memories here. But there’s nothing here that can change my mind. I want the divorce. I need it. I need it like I need my next breath. I need it like I once needed him.
“We’re here,” Eli says as he cuts the lights. The little cottage that once held so much life now looks forlorn and wan. It’s old and decrepit, just like our marriage.
“I can see that.” I get out and stretch. “It looks smaller.” And sadder.
“Everything looks bigger when you’re a kid.” He reaches beneath the planter by the steps and removes the key that has been there for as long as I can remember. “It’s still there,” he says, staring down at it in his palm.
“They keep a copy up at the big house, just in case someone needs work done to their house and can’t be here,” I remind him.
All the little cottages are owned by their occupants, but everyone pays lot rent to the Jacobsons, along with a nominal fee that takes care of grass mowing and general upkeep.
I look over and see a van parked in front of the cottage next door. “I wonder if Aaron rented his cottage to someone.”
Eli just hums at me. He has a way of acknowledging me without actually doing so. It’s one of the many things that make me dislike him.
It has been years since we have been here. And I don’t think that the cabin next door has been used e
ither. If it has, Aaron hasn’t mentioned it in his emails and occasional calls. He contacts Eli a lot more than he contacts me. That didn’t use to be the case. There was a time when Aaron and I were thick as thieves. We were together at Lake Fisher every summer for as long as I can remember. Then one day Eli showed up. And things changed.
I jerk myself out of my memories and follow Eli into the dark cottage. He crosses the room and flips a switch. The room floods with light and I look around.
“Looks like Katie and Jake came by.” He picks up the little basket full of goodies and tilts it toward me so I can see inside. “Chocolates. Wine.” He lets out a slow whistle and waggles his eyebrows at me. He hands me a note after reading it really quickly. “They changed the sheets and aired the place out.” He glances around. “That was nice of them.”
“Very,” I reply. I walk into the tiny bedroom and look around. It’s neat and tidy and…small. “Where are you going to sleep?” I ask.
This cabin only has one bedroom. And it has been more than a year since Eli and I have shared a bed.
Eli points to the bed. “Right there.”
I lay my palm on my chest. “Then where am I going to sleep?”
He looks at me, blinks slowly for a moment, and then he says, “Sleep wherever you want.” Then he turns and walks away to start unloading the car. “Do you want me to bring in your stuff?”
“No, I can do it,” I toss at his back.
“Okay, Bess,” he mutters. Then he goes outside to bring in his suitcases. I walk to the window and pull back the curtain, looking toward the little house next door. It’s dark, not a single light on. But I jump back from my window and let the curtain drop when I see the curtain in the opposite window drop back into place.
Someone is there. Surely it’s not Aaron.
4
Aaron
I can relax a little when I see that Eli and Bess have arrived. I let the curtain fall closed and sit back, and I think about what I’m doing here. I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing.
It’s not like I have a lot of choices.
When Lynda died and I knew what I was up against, I’d bared my soul to both Jake and Eli after the funeral, when they’d both showed up to support me and the kids through the toughest time of my life. Bess had come the moment I’d called her about Lynda, and she’d stayed for the first few days, but she’d left after the funeral. She’d left right after Eli arrived.
Even after the funeral, Eli and Jake had stayed. I’d dealt with all the family, cleaned up after all the mourners left our house, and then Jake had brought me a whiskey, neat. He’d sat down across from me, and he lifted a glass to his own lips. Eli sat down with his own glass.
I’d stared into the amber liquid and said, “One of you will need to stay sober, in case one of the kids wakes up.” Then I’d tossed back the whole tumbler and held out the glass for another.
“I’ll take one for the team,” Eli had said. He’d set his glass aside. I poured his whiskey into my glass and downed it quickly, grimacing at the burn of it in my throat.
I’d told them everything. I’d told them about my illness, about how Lynda and I had known my time on earth was limited, even before she’d died. They’d both sat, slack-jawed and wary, and I’d told them everything. Then Jake… Jake had volunteered to take my kids.
He’d said it like it was nothing. Like he was volunteering to take in a stray dog he’d found. Like he was offering to take home a stray kitten.
“Man,” I’d replied. I stopped to clear the emotion that was suddenly clogging my throat. “I love you so much for offering, but you already have a house full of kids.”
“So a few more won’t matter.” He’d shrugged, and I’d known he meant it. He wanted my kids. He would raise them like they were his. I had no doubt he would love them. Katie would too. But they already had so many, and Katie was pregnant again.
That was what I was worried about. That a few more kids wouldn’t matter. That they would be overlooked in the chaos of Jake’s already large family. I wanted my kids to be loved and cared for, and I knew that Jake and Katie would love them, but I had a feeling that Eli and Bess needed my kids as much as my kids needed them.
“I appreciate your offer,” I’d said. And then I stared hard at Eli. He hadn’t drunk anything, and he was the only sober person in the room. “But I want Bess and Eli to take them.”
Eli choked on the water he’d just lifted to his lips. He sputtered and coughed until he could breathe again. “You want us to take them?” He’d pointed at his chest. “Me and Bess?”
I’d nodded. “I want you and Bess to raise them. And I want Jake and Katie to be the backup. In case something else goes wrong.”
“Are you sure?” Jake had asked.
I’d nodded. “I’m positive.”
“But Bess and Eli—” Jake had begun. Then he’d shaken his head and muttered, “I’m sorry, Eli. I’m just worried.”
“Yeah, me too.” Eli had snorted out a laugh. “I’m not exactly Bess’s favorite person.”
“What if I could help you fix that?” I’d asked.
He’d glared at me. “How would you do that?”
I’d grinned. “Can you get Bess to come to the lake?”
“Dude, I can’t even get Bess to look in my direction,” he’d admitted. “You saw how she shut down when I got here.”
“Just get her to come to the lake. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Eli had nodded. “I’ll see if I can get her there, but you’ll have to keep her there.”
I had nodded and knocked back another whiskey. Then I heard Miles crying upstairs. “He wants a bottle,” I’d said. I started to get up, but I was already wobbly on my feet.
Eli got to his feet. “Sit down. I’ll get it.”
Eli went to the kitchen and made a bottle for Miles, and then he disappeared up the stairs. He’d held Miles all through the funeral today and had carried him around the whole evening, so I wasn’t worried about Miles being fearful of a new face. Miles rarely ever met a stranger, anyway. I heard Eli moving around with Miles and then I heard his voice as he sang a song to him that made me smile. Eli was a terrible singer. He always had been.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Jake had asked me, his voice quiet.
“I don’t want any of this, Jake. But this is what I’ve got.”
He’d squeezed my shoulder and left his hand to linger there. “This is going to work out, no matter what,” he’d assured me. He squeezed my shoulder again.
So now, when I see the lights go out next door at Eli and Bess’s cottage, I open my front door and step out into the darkness of my front porch. I can’t go too far because my kids are asleep inside. I sit down on the top step of the porch and rest my elbows on my knees. A gentle breeze teases the hair on my arms, and I close my eyes so I can enjoy it. It’s funny what makes you feel peaceful when you know your life is almost over.
A few minutes later, the whisper of feet in the grass gets my attention. Eli’s bulk settles on the top stair next to me. “So, we’re doing this?” he asks.
“Yep.” I kick at a piece of rock on the step, knocking it to the ground. “We’re doing this.”
“You want to tell me the plan?”
“Not sure I have one yet,” I admit. But I do. I do have a plan. I know exactly how this needs to go. I look at him. “You want to save your marriage?”
He nods. “I still love her. She just doesn’t love me back.”
“What did you do to make her hate you?”
He looks everywhere but in my direction. “I let her fall out of love with me.”
“Was there anything that started it?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing specific. I just let it die. I didn’t take enough care of it. Now she gets mad at me for breathing.” He heaves in a breath. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go with Jake? He might be the better choice.” His voice is quiet and heavy, and his hesitance hurts me deep inside.
“We’ll see,” I reply.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I have chemo tomorrow. While I’m gone, Gabby, Jake and Katie’s oldest daughter, is going to babysit. Come over while she’s here and help her with the kids. Take one of them fishing or something.”
“What about Bess?” he asks, his voice wary.
“I’m going to take Bess with me. To chemo.”
“Oh, okay.” He scratches his head.
I grin. “She’ll be ready to get away from you by breakfast time.”
He cocks his head to the side and shrugs like it’s inevitable. “Very true.”
“So, that’s our plan. Starting tomorrow.” I lumber to my feet and he sits there, not moving. “You okay?”
He nods. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Well, quit worrying. It’s going to work out the way it works out.”
“Okay.” He sighs heavily.
“Go to bed. My kids will exhaust you tomorrow, even with help.”
He snorts out a laugh. “They can’t be that bad.”
“Sure, they’re not.” I laugh too, and I leave him sitting on the top step of my porch. I go inside and go to the kids’ room. Sam and Kerry-Anne are sharing a set of bunkbeds, so I go and pull their covers over them. Sam looks soft when she’s sleeping, and I can almost fool myself into thinking she doesn’t hate me right now.
Miles is in a portable crib in my room, so I watch him breathing, counting the rise and fall of his breaths. Lynda never could sleep until she’d watched ten rises and falls of his chest. She did it with all the kids. So I count now, satisfied when I get to ten. Then I get into bed, sliding between the cool sheets.
Chemo—and everything else—starts tomorrow. I need to be well rested. This shit is going to get real, real fast.
5
Bess
The cottage is empty when I get up and go in search of coffee. The crick in my neck from sleeping on the couch is killing me. Eli went to bed before me. He could have given me the bed, but he didn’t. He did leave room for me, I noticed, when I walked by the bedroom to go to the bathroom. He’d slept on the left, like he did when we used to sleep together. But I couldn’t force myself to get into the bed with him. Once up on a time, I’d have crawled into bed with him and wrapped my arms around him from behind. He would have grumbled and rolled over, and then pulled me against his chest. He stopped doing that a long time ago, long before I stopped getting in bed and wrapping my arms around him.
Feels like Home (Lake Fisher Book 2) Page 2