Past Forward Volume 1 (27 page)

Twenty jars of
cherries glistened in the early evening sun.
Willow stood at the sink scrubbing her hands with
soap, salt, and lemon juice when Chad sauntered through the door to
pick her up. “Hey, you’ve been busy.”

Willow
scrubbed harder and faster, rubbing her reddish-brown stained
hands. Chad ran a tentative hand over the hot glass jars and
watched as she poured more salt and scrubbed the tips of her
fingers with a brush. It made little difference.

“What are you
doing?”

“Trying to get
rid of the stains or at least fade them a little
faster.”

Chad didn’t
understand. “How do you usually get rid of it?”

“Wait. It
fades in a few days or a week.”

“So why put
yourself through such rough treatment if it’ll fade?”

Another splash
of lemon followed the salt and she rubbed a little harder. “I—
Well, I guess it was a bit of vanity on my part.” She held out her
fingers distastefully. “I’ve always hated the way they get stained
from berries and cherries. I’m being silly, and now I’ve made us
late. I’m sorry.”

Chad paused
amazed at the first sign of insecurity he’d seen in Willow. “You
know, if you prefer, we can get a place away from everyone
else.”

“I—well I
guess it doesn’t matter if my hands don’t bother you, why should
they bother me?”
Willow wiped
her arm across her forehead and sighed.

Chad turned
off the water and pushed her toward the door.
“Go take a shower. I’ll get the pup
inside.”

“Josie has
taken to playing by the chicken yard.”

“You named her
Josie?”

Willow laughed
as she climbed the steps to the back porch. “Josie, Clementine,
Shep, Darcy, Arwen, Domino… I’ve been trying them all.”

“And the
forerunner is Josie?”

“There is no
forerunner,” she laughed, opening the door. As it shut behind her,
Chad heard her continue, “Perhaps you can find something that’ll
fit her.”

He heard the
shower as he found the pup and teased her into the barn. By the
time he had her settled and had returned to the house, Willow stood
in the kitchen, brushing out her hair. “Ok, I’m ready.”

Quite a few cars
zipped along the highway to Fairbury, Chad following with
occasional comments about wishing he had his cruiser. “People
behave when they remember someone’s watching.”

“
I
said that to Mother once.”

“
What?”

Willow glanced out
her window in a move that Chad suspected was designed to hide
tears. “I told her that I always behaved when she was watching, but
it was harder to remember when she wasn’t.”

“
Just like a kid.”

“
Mother said,” a slight break in her voice, hinted that his
suspicions were correct. “‘Willow, your Father is always watching.
That is much more important than if your mother is.’”

Father. He’d felt
sorry for her—growing up without a father, but in Willow’s mind,
she had one. Desperate to change the subject, he blurted out the
first random thought that came to mind. “My mom used to sing that
song, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” but she made it about Jesus.
I was in third grade before I understood why they allowed a Jesus
song in school when they didn’t allow prayer.”

He pulled off the
highway, taking the back route to the lake. As they neared, the
conversation turned to that week’s produce sale, her canning
progress, and the trouble they were having getting her Social
Security application processed. Once they were through parking, few
spots along the shore of the lake remained. “Looks like we made it
just in time.”

Willo
w removed her shoes
while Chad arranged comfortable seats in the back of the truck. As
he finished, he pulled a can of Coke from an ice chest and passed
it to her. She stared at the can until Chad opened it and handed it
back. “Haven’t you ever had a can of Coke?”

“I had a
bottle of Dr. Pepper once. Mother brought it home for me, but I
didn’t like it. It was much too sweet.”

Her sip was
tentative but a smile followed. “This is sweet but not like the
other one.”

“
Do you like it?”

“
For a change, it’s ok,” she said, taking another small sip.
“Water is better, of course.”

Chad pulled a
Frisbee from behind the seat and held it up. “Want to
play?”

Willow
grinned. “Definitely!”

For half an
hour, the disk sailed through the air, back and forth, until the
wind caught it and sent it over the heads of their beach neighbors
into the nearby woods. Willow dashed after it, her new dress
swirling around her knees as she turned. Chad watched her go,
shaking his head and taking a swig of a fresh Coke.

“Hey, Chad.
Who’ve you got with you?” Tait Stedtmann slapped his back and
grinned.

“Tait! Why
aren’t you with the singles?”

“I was. I
thought I saw your truck, so I came over to talk you into joining
us. Joe’s working, but Martinez is there until nine.”

“I have Willow
with me. I don’t think she’d be comfortable—” Chad
began.

Tait laughed.
“No one blames you from keeping a girl like that to
yourself.”

Fire entered
Chad’s eyes. “What do you mean, ‘a girl like that?’”

“Whoa! No
foul! I just meant that it’s understandable that you’d want to keep
a gorgeous girl like her to yourself. I thought she was pleasant
looking enough at church, but man, I saw her before she ran off.
Wow.”

Tait waved and
disappeared
into the crowd.
Chad turned and caught sight of Willow running back to the truck. A
very familiar and yet still unfamiliar thought ran through his mind
as she arrived, smiling. “Wow,” he hadn’t realized that he said it
until Willow’s eyes met his in surprise. “I didn’t tell you how
nice you look.”

“It’s the
dress. I bought it in Rockland last Saturday. It came yesterday.”
She spun showing off the unique creation, and in doing so, Chad saw
the side of Willow few had ever seen. She could be stunning when
given half a chance.

“Hey, Tesdall.
Good to see you, man. Who’s the girl? She’s hot!”

Willow
watched, fascinated, as Chad’s eyes widened in horror before he
turned slowly. “Chuck Majors, what brings you here?” From the
amused expression in Willow’s eyes, he knew she suspected something
was about to happen. She would be right. He prayed it didn’t end
badly.

“Tait said you
were over here, so I thought I’d come say hi. Glad I
did.”

Now
ignoring
Chad, Chuck moseyed
over to Willow and gave her the once over with a look that was just
two stops short of a leer. “I’m Chuck, and am I
glad
to meet you!”

“Are you?” The
bored indifference in Willow’s tone caused Chad to choke on his
Coke. She was good. Willow was very good.

“How could I
avoid it? Has Chad marked territory yet?”

Confusion
flooded Willow’s face for a moment until she saw Chad hugging
himself and swaying behind Chuck. “Um well—” She glanced again.
Chad was now blowing kisses at her. Her brow wrinkled. “I really
don’t think—” Chad flung one hand to his forehead and the other to
his heart making exaggerated pounding motions.

Understanding
dawned. Her eyes narrowed. “I really don’t think that’s any of your
business.”

“Well I
wouldn’t want to muscle in on Chad…”

“That’s just
because he’d flatten you. If you could get away with it, you’d do
it in a heartbeat.”

Both men
howled. Chad, because Willow had pegged the lout from Brunswick
perfectly. He suspected Chuck found it hilarious because he thought
it was a great joke—and nothing more. Willow shook her head and
slipped past Chuck to Chad’s side. “I’m glad I am so
amusing.”

Without an
invitation, Chuck opened Chad’s ice chest and pulled out a Coke.
“No D.P.? Man, you gotta get with the program.”

“No manners?
I’d say
you
do,” Willow muttered under her breath
for Chad’s ears alone.

Chad choked on
his Coke. Willow pulled the pie from her basket and set it on the
tailgate. She’d made a fresh one just for that afternoon, and now
she had to share it with Chuck. Chad’s sympathy deepened as she
sighed and passed her plate to Chuck and the other to
him.

Chuck accepted
the plate as if the pie was baked especially for him. Though he
thanked her for the food and exclaimed over how delicious it was,
the focus remained on him. Willow looked disgusted. Trying to
soften the blow, he returned his plate to her uneaten. At her
surprised expression, he smiled and whispered, “I’ll eat a piece
when you’re done.”

They shared
dismayed looks as Chuck made it obvious that he did not intend to
leave. Their
Frisbee game
became a game of keep-away. Willow threw low and Chuck nabbed it,
sending Willow to the center. The game doubled in intensity. Chad
discovered a competitive side to Willow he hadn’t expected as she
slammed into his chest in her attempt to snag the disk.

Chad snatched
it easily and sent it back across the sand to Chuck. After a swig
of water from a fresh bottle, Willow rejoined the game in earnest.
Time and again, her fingers missed the disk by inches, but she
seemed unruffled by it. Determination hardened her expression as
she worked doggedly to succeed.

She backed
slowly toward Chuck, clearly sensing that he was the weaker player,
until Chad knew if he didn’t let her have the next throw, she’d
find herself too close to Chuck for comfort. Too late. The disk
whirled toward her at a speed that required her to take a few steps
back if she hoped to catch it. Just as her hand closed around it,
she flattened herself unintentionally against Chuck.

“Oh, excuse
me. I’m sorry.”

Chuck seemed
befuddled. “No problem. You ok?”

Chad listened,
surprised. He’d never heard
Chuck say anything in concern for another. Willow, unaware of
such a momentous occasion, nodded and stepped away. “I’m fine. How
about you?”

It was the
worst thing she could have said. In an effort to keep him from
monopolizing every moment of people’s attention, few people risked
showing Chuck any sympathy even—if not especially—when he deserved
it. Eager to prevent Chuck from making too much over Willow’s
simple courtesy, Chad said, “
Oh Chuck’s a big boy. He’s fine. It’s getting dark.” He
slapped Chuck on the back. “Good game. We’ve got to get settled for
the show, but thanks for playing with us.”

Chad helped
Willow up into the back of the truck and settled her comfortably
against the cab. Remembering the ice chest, he hopped down to
retrieve it, and as he turned to set it in the truck bed, saw Chuck
lowering himself into Chad’s well-padded beanbag chair. Willow’s
eyes flipped back and forth between the men, dismayed.

“Um, Chuck?
You’ve got my spot there. I don’t have anything to sit
on.”

Clueless,
Chuck pulled the wadded up blankets from around the beanbag and
tossed them on the tailgate. “Ya should have bought a full size
truck, Tesdall. This thing doesn’t leave enough room back here.” He
nudged Willow with his elbow. “But it’s cozy for us anyway, isn’t
it?”

Willow stared
at Chuck, aghast. “Are you truly this dense, or are you just
rude?”

“What?” Chuck
exclaimed with a hint of confusion and a lot of bluster.

In that
moment
, Willow saw what no one
in Chuck’s life had ever seen. Insecurity, loneliness, and a deep
desire to feel accepted for himself drove most of his actions. He
was the little boy Mother had always talked about—the one from
elementary school who tried too hard and no one liked. Chuck had
simply never grown out of it.

She hesitated
before asking, “
Would you like
a Dr. Pepper?”

Both men’s
eyes widened, surprised, and Chuck responded, “Naw, Chad just
brought Coke. It’ll be fine.”

It was the
first time Chad had ever heard Chuck settle for less than he truly
wanted if someone could do something about it. Willow ignored him.
“I’ll be right back.”

With a handful
of change and a spare can of Coke, she wandered through the groups
of spectators who all waited for the first burst of lights. Even
from a couple yards away she could hear as Chuck stammered, “I
didn’t expect—I can’t believe she—”

“She wanted
to, Chuck.”

“Wow.”

“I hear you
there.”

A hundred
yards or so away, a large group from St. Michael’s swapped a can of
Coke for a can of Dr. Pepper and gave her a second can, refusing to
allow her to pay for it. She hurried back, tucked the spare in the
ice chest, and handed Chuck the other. “Would you like some more
pie?”

The sounds of
instruments tuning drifted over the crowds, before the school
marching band began playing the “Star Spangled Banner.” Willow
turned and watched, hand over her heart, singing quietly along with
the music, oblivious to glances that others nearby gave her. The
first burst of fireworks erupted on the line, “the bombs bursting
in air.” Most of the crowd stood and sang along as a floating flag
of fireworks waved over them.