“Can Alex and I go to your house and use your laptop to order a few toys for Silas?” She lifts her cat up to show it to us, like we haven’t seen it before. “She’s bored.”
“Wait,” I say. “Isn’t that cat a girl?”
She nods.
“Then why are you calling her Silas?”
She shrugs. “Trixie named her.” She turns to face me. “So, can I go order some stuff?”
“Sure,” I say.
“Can I use your credit card, too?” she asks, a shit-eating grin on her face.
I chuckle. “Sure. Why not.” I roll my eyes in Bess’s direction, and she smiles at me. And I don’t know why but I feel like I just won the lottery.
I set Sam up with my computer, my credit card–which I might regret later on–and I tell her what her spending limit is. She already has the mailing address for the complex from the last order she placed, so she can get the cat toys shipped straight here. Then I go and clean up Aaron’s car. I think most of the mess got on his shirt because the car is not that bad.
I look up to find Bess watching me from the top step of the cabin. She gives me a wave and says, “Thank you for doing that. You really didn’t have to.” Her voice is soft, like she’s trying out words for the first time ever.
She has touched my arm, smiled at me, and now she’s making unprovoked communication in my direction. I don’t even know how to respond. But one thing I do know is that the little tiny kernel of hope that I had so deeply buried inside me has started to grow. It’s sprouting and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s either going to rip me apart or build me up new. I just don’t know which.
22
Bess
After we feed the kids dinner at the big house, Katie turns to me and rubs her hands together. She squeals like she used to do when she was fifteen.
“What did I miss?” I ask. I walk around picking up empty paper plates and throwing them in the trash.
“What time are you going up to the field?” Katie asks, with no preamble. I stare at her for a second, trying to put her words into context, but I can’t.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“It’s movie night!” she cries, and I immediately know what she means.
Most people would assume that means going to their living room and watching a movie on their TV. But adults who grew up at Lake Fisher know that means that Mr. Jacobson is going to show a movie on the side of the big building on the hill. It’s the storage shed, and it’s a light color so it makes the perfect backdrop for a movie.
“Oh, movie night,” I say slowly. “I don’t know… I’m actually kind of tired.”
Kerry-Anne walks into the kitchen, stops at my hip, and looks up at me. “Can we go to movie night?” she asks. She does the same chafing motion of her hands that Katie just did as she dances in place.
“Did you check with Eli?” I ask her. He’s in charge of the kids. I’ve never been good with them.
Kerry-Anne nods emphatically. “He told me to ask you.”
I heave a sigh. “Let me talk to Eli and we’ll see.”
“Okay,” she says. She spins around and goes back into the living room with the other kids, where they are watching a game of blackjack between Mr. Jacobson and Gabby.
“Gabby’s a shark when it comes to cards,” Katie explains. “She beats him every time.”
Mr. Jacobson must hear her because he bellows from the other room, “I taught her everything she knows!”
Katie laughs. “That’s true. He did. They started playing cards the day they met, and they never did stop.” She sticks a bag of popcorn in the microwave oven and turns it on. “For the movie,” she says. She has six more bags ready on the counter.
“You and Jake seem so happy,” I say to her as I look around at her comfortable home. The open pantry shelves are stacked with board games, and there are dozens of family photos that adorn the walls. There’s even photos of her first husband—the one who died in Iraq—with their first three kids. “You have pictures of your first husband on the wall?” I raise my eyebrows at her.
“It’s important for the kids to have a visual reminder of their dad,” she says. “He’s gone, but he’ll never be forgotten.”
“Jake doesn’t get jealous?” I’m being nosy now. I know that.
She shakes her head. “He knew I’d been married when we got back together. My first husband and I were very happy together.” She gets a dreamy look on her face. “It’s a different kind of happy than what I have with Jake. I can’t explain it. It’s almost like it was a different life.”
A different life. That would be nice.
“How are you and Eli doing?” she asks me. She looks over her shoulder to be sure Eli is still in the living room with Jake.
I shake my head. “Same. No change.”
“Do you want to make it work with Eli?”
I have to think about that. Do I? When I arrived here a few days ago, I wouldn’t have cared if he died tomorrow. Today, I’m not sure I feel the same way. “Eli and I have gone through too much.”
“Like what?” she asks, her voice quiet and steady.
“Just…a lot. It’s not even something I can explain.” Nor do I want to. Ever. I don’t want to tell anyone about the devastation of not being able to carry a child to full term. No one understands how it feels to get pregnant, to even feel that stir of life, and then have it taken from you.
“Why did you and Eli stop trying?”
“To get pregnant?” I ask, astounded at her question.
“Well, that too,” she says. “But why did you stop trying to be married?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, marriage requires a certain amount of work. It’s not all sunshine and roses. Sometimes it’s hard. Really hard. Jake and I have things we have to work through too. But we always do manage to work through it.” She pretends to be busy sorting silverware into the drawer from the dishwasher, but I can tell I have her full attention. “We have to at least try…”
“Our trying days are over,” I tell her. “We’re just here until the end of the week.”
“Oh.” She sounds startled by that. “For some reason, I thought you were staying longer.”
“I can’t. I have to get back to work.”
“Oh.” She seems a little disconcerted, but I don’t know why. “I’m glad you came for this week at least.” She smiles at me. “This place, it’s like magic. When I came back here, I knew everything was going to be all right.”
I laugh. “And then you stayed.”
“I stayed. And our family grew. Still growing.” She points to her pregnant belly. But then she cocks her head to the side and grimaces. “Is it hard for you? My being pregnant, I mean.”
“No, no,” I rush to reassure her. “It’s not hard for me at all. It’s fine.” But in reality, I’m jealous as hell.
She smiles. “It’s like I get pregnant every time he looks at me.” She pokes her belly with her finger. “This is the last one, though. Jake’s already gotten snipped. He went as soon as the last pregnancy test came back positive.”
Jake breezes into the room. “Are you ladies talking about my junk?” he asks. He leans over and kisses Katie on the forehead. She scrunches up her face, but there’s joy in her expression, too.
“Not yet, but we are willing to.” She gives him a warning glance.
“So, movie night,” Jake says. “Are we both going?”
I must look confused, because Katie explains, “When the little kids were smaller, one of us would keep them at home while the other one went to the movie with the rest of them. But now, they fall asleep on the blanket as soon as it gets dark out. “We can both go,” she says to him. “If someone gets cranky, one of us can bring them home.”
“I’ll get the blankets set up.”
“Fill up a cooler of drinks, too, will you?” she asks. “And carry some snacks up the hill.”
“Will do.” H
e breezes out of the room and then Eli walks in.
“So…movie?” he asks when he stops in front of me.
“What about it?” I respond.
“The kids want to go. You want to join us?”
“Do you need me to go?” I wince inwardly. Being with Eli in public is difficult, because everything feels normal in public. I feel the need to talk to him, and then it feels like it used to, but it’s not like it used to be. It’ll never be like it used to be.
“I’d like for you to go. But it’s your choice, of course.”
“How about if I meet you there?” I say. “I want to go check on Aaron.”
“Sounds good,” he says. “I’ll save you a seat.” He smiles at me and my belly dips. What a weird sensation. He walks out the door after Jake, presumably to set up the chairs and blankets.
“You still love him,” Katie says quietly.
“No.” I don’t. I can’t. There’s too much between us.
“When he just smiled at you, you blushed. I saw it. You looked just like you did at fifteen when he used to toss his head to get that stupid lock of hair out of his eyes and then he would grin at you.”
I huff. “We’re not fifteen anymore,” I remind her.
“Exactly,” she says. And she walks out of the room.
I turn to go out the back door, but Sam stops me. “Are we going to the movie?” she asks.
“It looks like it.”
“Yay!” she cries, and she makes a fist pump.
“I’m going to go check on your dad first. You stay with Jake and Katie, and I’ll see you there, okay?”
“Okay.” She spins around and goes in the other direction.
I walk back to Aaron’s cabin and let myself in through the front door. Aaron is sitting on the couch, staring at nothing. “Aaron?”
He looks up at me. “Bess,” he responds. “I was just coming to find you guys.” He sets the family photo he was holding to the side and stands up.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Right as rain,” he says as he stretches his arms over his head. “That nap helped.” He looks around me. “Where are the kids?”
“They’re getting ready for movie night.”
“Fuck yeah!” he cries. “I love movie night!” He goes to the chest by the wall and pulls out some blankets. “Do we need snacks?”
“Knowing Jake and Katie, they’re bringing everything.”
“If not, we can come back.” He looks around. “You’re going, right?”
I throw up my hands. “Apparently, I am.”
He grins at me. I follow him out the front door, and we walk toward the field with the big building at the north end. Jake and Katie are there with the kids, and some other families from the campground have set up blankets and chairs.
“Daddy!” Kerry-Anne yells, and she launches herself at him. She wraps her arms around his waist. He closes his eyes, grins, and holds her tightly.
“We saved you a seat,” Sam says. He looks shocked for a moment, and then he goes to sit next to her. Trixie has her huge dog with her, and I’m a little startled when I realize that the big dog is lying on the ground with Sam’s tiny little kitten beneath his chin. The cat is about the size of the dog’s paw, but it’s snuggled right in there. Every now and then, it reaches up and bites on Sally’s lower lip, or paws at his chin with its kitten claws. But the dog just lets the kitten lie there, snug between his feet.
I find Eli sitting on a blanket and he pats the spot next to him. “I saved you a seat, too,” he says. He grins at me. The sun is just going down, and I can still see him clearly. He’s not the lanky boy I used to know. He’s so much more.
“Um…” I look toward Aaron’s blanket. Both his kids are on it, and Miles is sitting in a bouncy chair on one corner.
“Unless you’d rather sit with them,” Eli says, and he visibly deflates a little.
“No, no,” I say. “This is fine.”
He grins and moves over a little, and I settle down next to him.
“What’s the movie?”
“The Wizard of Oz,” he replies. “Do you remember the last time we watched that one? I think it was here, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was here.” I’d lain with my head in his lap as he played with my hair. We were almost twenty, and I was pregnant for the first time. We weren’t even married yet, and no one knew about the pregnancy except for us. A month later, we’d found out that pregnancy wasn’t viable. That was our first loss.
“Want something to drink?” he asks. He reaches into the cooler next to him and hands me a soda. It just happens to be my favorite kind of soda.
“Thanks,” I say.
Katie throws a bag of popped microwave popcorn in my direction and I catch it and pass it to Eli. He opens it and tosses a few pieces into his mouth.
Katie and Jake have their huge family spread out around them. Mr. Jacobson is in a chair, and Gabby and Alex are in chairs next to him. The little kids are playing with toys on their blanket.
When it gets dark enough, Jake goes and starts the projector. It’s the same old projector that Mr. Jacobson used when we were young. And the same old movie. It’s the same old feeling. The reel begins to play, the lilting tunes so familiar that I feel like I know them by heart.
“Want to lie on me?” Eli asks. He pats his lap.
“Oh…no.” I swallow down a gulp of discomfort. “I’m fine.”
His smile slackens a little. “Okay, Bess,” he says softly. But he doesn’t move away. In fact, his hand inches closer to mine as he leans back on his palms. His pinky touches the edge of mine and a jolt moves through me. He doesn’t look in my direction or acknowledge that he’s touching me at all, and for that I am grateful. The movie begins to play, and he passes me the bag of popcorn. I dump some into my shirt and pass it back to him. He sits with his legs crossed, and his knee brushes against mine. He doesn’t pull it back.
Halfway through the movie, Eli leans over close to me. “I’m going to run to the bushes,” he says. “Be right back.” His popcorn-scented breath warms my cheek, and the air cools a little in his absence.
Suddenly, Aaron jerks me out of my movie haze when he drops down next to me. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey. You okay?” I ask.
“Fine, but Kerry-Anne needs to go to the bathroom, and I don’t want to send her off by herself in the dark. Can you hold Miles? He’s asleep.” He thrusts the child in my direction, not allowing me to decline, as he settles him into my lap. Holding Miles is like holding a leggy potato, heavy and solid, but not all at the same time. “Be right back,” he whispers.
I look around, desperate to find somebody to take this baby out of my arms. Eli is still peeing in the bushes; I can’t even find his silhouette in the dark. And everyone else is staring at the movie. Jake has a sleeping toddler in his own lap, and Katie is holding their smallest one in her arms as she rocks him side to side. There is no one to save me.
I look down into Miles’s sleeping face and immediately notice the dark lashes that touch his cheeks. They’re long like Lynda’s, and full. His little lips are puckered like an unopened rosebud, and his cheeks are rosy, maybe from where Aaron had been holding him while he slept.
While I stare down at him, something breaks loose inside me, and I desperately try to swallow past the lump in my throat but it won’t move. I blink hard but the tears come anyway. One rolls down the side of my nose, and I can’t brush it away because my arms are full. They’re full with a baby in them. There’s a whole baby resting in my arms, one that’s living and breathing and filled with so much potential. I sniffle, and bring him closer to me, holding him snug, like I couldn’t do just a minute before.
Eli comes back and sinks down next to me. He glances over and sees me with Miles. I sit with my eyes closed and tears rolling down my face. I tilt my head down hoping he won’t see. But Eli sees everything. I sniffle out loud and I know that he knows.
“Oh, Bess,” he whispers. He scoots over close
r to me and presses his body against mine, his chest against my side. He presses his forehead against my temple, and I feel his lips against my cheek. “Oh, Bess,” he says again. “I’m so sorry.” But he doesn’t move away. “Do you want me to take him?”
“No,” I whisper out over a choked sob. “He’s fine. I can hold him.” I want to hold him. I need to hold him.
He scoots closer still, so close that he has to stretch one leg out behind me as his arms wrap around me. “Are you sure?”
I nod, and Eli lifts his arm in front of my face. I immediately wipe my tear-stained face on his shirt sleeve. I don’t even think about it.
“I’m so sorry,” he says again.
“For what?”
“For not being able to give you everything you need.” He sucks in a big breath, and I feel him wipe his nose on my shoulder. Then he presses a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering by my ear. His breath is as hot and heavy as his words. “I wish I could have done a better job.”
I lean into him and hold that baby, letting Eli support us both.
A shadow falls over us and I know that Aaron is back. The shadow pauses over me for just a moment, but Aaron keeps walking back to his blanket, where he sits down with his girls. And I hold that baby, and Eli holds me. And I let him.
23
Eli
Her heart has been broken so many times, and I can’t help but feel guilty for that. But watching her work through it as we sit there in the dark is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Eventually, she stops trembling. Eventually, she stops sniffling. Eventually, she loosens the snug grip she has on Miles and just holds him as though she holds sleeping babies all the time and a dam didn’t just break inside her.
And that’s all he is. He’s a sleeping infant. He’s Aaron’s sleeping infant, and I know that she will have to return Miles to Aaron. She knows it too; I’m perfectly aware of that. But something shifted inside her tonight. I felt it when it happened. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the shift scares the fuck out of me. In my head, it will either make her need me more, or it will make her not need me at all, and I’m not ready to find out just yet which one it is.
Feels like Home (Lake Fisher Book 2) Page 11