Harvest Moon (23 page)

“Courtney, you can swear your head off in here. As much as you want. I’m not here to judge. Go on.”

“So then I’m back with Dad and what’s the first thing we have to think about? How about Kelly? Let’s let Kelly come into the family!”

“Don’t you like Kelly?”

“She’s all right. She’s even nice, sort of. She can be funny. I like her sister better but her sister is hooked up to Colin, who I also like. It’s not that I don’t
like
her.”

“Then what is it?”

“What if they get married and something happens? What if Dad dies, then Kelly has me, then Kelly gives me back to Stu, then Stu gives me back to Kelly, then Kelly finds some guy to marry and
she
dies and so on? Huh? You think I feel like doing all that again?”

“Apparently it’s the uncertainty of the future that bothers you most. Frightens you.”

“Duh,” she said.

“Maybe you should talk to your dad about this.”

“What’s he going to say? That he’s not going to die? He can! I think it’s better if it’s just us. Me and him. We don’t need anyone else.”

Jerry waited it out, like he was expecting her to say something more. Finally he said, “But you do. Courtney, you do need other people. And right now, one of the things you need to know is what plans your dad has for you if anything should happen to him. Not only is there a possible new woman in your future, but your dad also has family in Idaho. Family you like. As for Kelly, she has family you like. Why don’t you try to get some of these questions answered before you put this kind of pressure on yourself?”

“What pressure? It’s no pressure on me! If he wasn’t sad, I wouldn’t be sad!”

“But that’s where you’re wrong—this situation that you’ve outlined, just you and him and the rest of the world stay away—this puts an
enormous
burden on you. You’re fourteen and a half, almost fifteen. Very soon there’s going to be a boyfriend if there isn’t already, and he’s only going to be the first boyfriend. You’re going to get older, spread your wings, go to college, travel the world, find new boyfriends and more best female friends. In a few years, about three and a half, you’re not going to be living with your dad every day, every night. You’re probably going to be living in a dorm or apartment with girlfriends. You’re going to fall in love. You might fall in love more than once. You might go back to your dad’s now and then, maybe even for long stretches like a couple of months at a time. But it’s your job to build a life outside of your dad’s house. And then you’re going to want to bring some of that life back to him to share—like your boyfriend, your fiancé, your husband and children…”

“That is not happening anytime soon!”

“Sooner than you think. What about your dad? Don’t you worry that he’ll be lonely when you start to spread your wings?”

“We can worry about that later…”

“I see. Well, just so you know, they don’t allow fathers to live in sorority houses with their daughters.”

“Funny. You’re so funny…”

“Courtney, you’re not only asking him to remain lonely and sad so that you can feel safe, but you’re asking yourself to keep all the important people of your future away so you can dedicate yourself to him so you can feel safe. And you’ll be lonely.” Jerry shook his head. “That’s the hard way.”

“Then what’s the easy way?”

“Tell your dad you’ve been stressed out about your future, about where you would go and what you would do if anything should happen to him. Talk it out.”

“He’ll just say—”

“Lief Holbrook lost a young wife in a completely tragic and unpredictable brain hemorrhage. He is
not
going to say it can’t happen.” Jerry paused. “And if there’s the slightest worry that you might be a little afraid of getting attached to someone like Kelly and losing her somehow, you could talk about that, as well.”

She just shrugged. And gave a little sniff, though she
wasn’t
going to cry.

“You’re not unique, you know,” Jerry said. “It’s not even a teenage thing, Courtney. It’s a very normal, human frailty we all have, to be afraid someone we love could be taken from us. And the reality is, eventually we all suffer loss. It’s a sad fact of life. There is no way to stop it, really. But there is a way to prepare for it…”

“Let me guess,” she said sarcastically, feeling a very large rock welled in her throat. “Get it out there where you can look at it.”

“Yes, Courtney, tiresome as you find it. This is what people do to the best of their ability. Not just by talking about their fears and worries, but by being proactive. They have medical checkups, take their vitamins, wear their seat belts, write wills. It really does all begin with talking about it, however. I’d like you to seriously consider that.”

“But see, not everyone goes through it,” she said. “Even if they talk about it, sometimes it never comes,” she said, unable to swallow.

“Yes, Courtney. Everyone goes through it. You can’t name a person who hasn’t or won’t experience loss and grief.”

“How about Amber, huh? The only girl in a family that thinks she’s the princess? I mean, they’re dorky, but really… And she’s too dorky to ever worry about anything. Amber’s life is so calm and easy, even if she does have a lot of chores.”

Jerry lifted a brow. “And doesn’t she also have a little brother or nephew in a wheelchair? With a disease for which there is no known cure?”

“Rory,” she said in a breath. How had Rory not even come to mind? Because even though he was in a wheelchair, he was so cute and funny and crazy, it was easy to forget he might not live past his teenage years. He could, she knew that. Not likely, though. “Well, thanks a lot. Now I feel even worse.”

“When you and your dad understand each other’s feelings, you’re going to feel a lot better. I’m going to see you in a week. If you want to bring your dad along for a little help in talking about this, you’re welcome to do so.”

“Not fucking likely,” she said. Then she tilted her head and smirked at him. “You said I could swear.”

“Absolutely, Courtney. In fact, it’s helpful. When you cut loose like that, I know what things you’re most angry or passionate about.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes I really hate you.”

He smiled a bit. “I get that a lot.”

Nothing could solidify that rock in Courtney’s throat like shifting her thoughts from her own losses to the potential of losing Rory. She loved that goofy kid! And Amber might seem dorky, but Courtney knew in her heart that far more than dorky, she was sincere and loving and devoted to her family.

And to Courtney.

The very next day at lunch Courtney asked Amber, “Do you ever worry about maybe losing Rory?”

Amber chewed and swallowed and said, “All the time. It’s not even a maybe—if some wonderful, scientific thing doesn’t happen, we will lose him. And it kills me.”

“Does he know that?” she asked.

“Of course he does. He’s been in the chair two years—you think he hasn’t asked what it all means? Little booger is smart, you know that. He knows more about his disease than the doctors, I think.”

“Isn’t he scared?”

“Sometimes, but he knows it won’t hurt. He knows it will only hurt the ones like us who will have to miss him.”

Courtney shook her head. “How do you do that? Talk about it without crying?”

She shrugged. “We already did the crying.”

The next day was a rare sunny March day and Courtney’s riding lesson was on. She was getting very good on Blue; she could not only move her around expertly and perform a thorough grooming right down to the hooves, but she’d actually washed her down a couple of times.

After her lesson, Lilly Tahoma invited her to ride along the trail with her for a half hour or so before Lief picked her up. Blue was Lilly’s horse, but she let Courtney keep her and took one of the other stable horses.

Lilly yammered about how the green growth of spring was beginning to peek through, especially in the foothills, and they were enjoying one or two warm days every week. “And the snow pack in the mountains is beginning to melt, so watch yourself around the river—it will swell. Courtney?”

“Hm?” Courtney said, turning her attention back to Lilly.

“Did you hear what I said about the river?”

“No, what?”

“The snow pack in the mountains is beginning to melt. You should mind the river—it could swell and even flood.”

“Okay,” she said.

“You’ve been so quiet. Is there something on your mind?”

“Hm? No, nothing…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you should never be dishonest. Just say ‘it’s personal’ and that will do it.”

“No, there’s nothing,” she insisted.

“Old Hopi saying—
When you lose your temper, you lose a friend. When you lie, you lose yourself.
”

And Courtney shot back, “When you’re nosy, you irritate people.”

Lilly chortled. “What is most fun about you, you have the face of a young girl and the sharp mind of a wizard. I apologize. I didn’t mean to pry or offend. You’re right to correct me.”

Courtney sighed. “Sometimes I just flip out. Sorry. I’ve been worrying about things. One of them is my best friend’s little eight-year-old nephew who has muscular dystrophy. He’s in a wheelchair and seems to be doing fine right now, but it’s not good, you know?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Sometimes life can seem so cruel.”

“No kidding.”

“How is your friend handling it?”

“She’s handling it fine! I’m not doing so great with it.”

“Oh, Courtney, there’s an adjustment to news like that. Don’t be hard on yourself.”

“Well, it’s not that I’m hard on myself,” she said. “You know my mother died, right? I mean, even though I never tell anyone, everyone seems to know.”

“I knew, yes. I believe your father mentioned it.”

“Well, that wasn’t too easy. And I guess I worry about going through stuff like that. It’s made me sad.” Then she shrugged. “I guess.”

“Oh, now, that I understand,” she said with a laugh. “I’m an expert at that. I was hurt once and decided never to be hurt again.”

Courtney was astonished and looked at Lilly. “Really? I mean, really?”

“Oh, yes. It gave me a chronic sore throat, holding back the tears.
Afraid
of the tears. But the Hopi have another old saying.
Crying will release the sorrowful thoughts on the mind.
”

“Where do you get all these old Hopi sayings?”

She laughed. “From an old Hopi grandfather. I treasure them now, but believe me, as I was growing up he got on my last nerve!”

“Did you ever hurt so bad inside that you were afraid you’d never stop crying? That maybe you’d die of crying? That the ground might swallow you up?”

“Oh, sweeting, yes! That’s why I cut it off! But people don’t die of crying—they only get very messy and very tired and in the end, there is sometimes relief. Sometimes it takes a lot of that messy crying to get relief. But it is cleansing.”

“What did you cry over? Did your mother die?”

“I never knew my mother,” Lilly said. “Other heartbreaks, certainly not the same as yours. Life’s path sometimes has many rocky curves.”

“Another Hopi saying?”

“No,” Lilly said with a laugh. “The unfortunate truth! I’ve had as many hard times as wonderful times. As I’m older, I flow with it better than I did when I was your age. At least you have that to look forward to!”

“That’s good news…” Courtney replied drily.

“I’ve been meaning to commend you on your progress, Courtney—some of the wonderful news of the day. And I’m wondering—would you consider helping me with some of the much younger girls? Some of them are nervous around the horses and some have a bigger problem—they’re
not
nervous and perhaps too brave to pay attention to safety. They could use a role model like you to show them the way.”

“Seriously?”

“I couldn’t be more serious. I’m very proud of you. I think you could teach us all. Could you help?”

“Sure,” she said, her entire mood suddenly brighter.

“It’s just about finished, Courtney,” Lief said on the drive home from the stables. “The custody filing. I have to appear in court, but it’s a mere formality and you don’t have to go. This will be the end of it. I will only be gone one night and the Hawkinses said you and Spike can stay with them.”

“I don’t need to stay with them,” she said.

“I took care of it, honey. Pack an overnight, take the bus home from school so you can pick up Spike and your bag. Amber’s dad will come for you. Then, if you’re okay being alone until I get home late Thursday night, they can drop you and Spike off after dinner. You okay with that? Because if you’re not, you can stay with them two nights. I should be back by eleven at the latest. Want to stay a second night?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll come home.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Mr. Hawkins said he’d bring you. You have your key. And…do I even have to say this? No friends over. No sneaking out, no beer, no etcetera?”

“Gimme a break,” she said. “Haven’t I been like a perfect child?”

“Truthfully? Yes. Great record. Don’t mess it up.”

Seventeen

C
ourtney made a decision to show Lief how totally functional they were, just the two of them. When she got to school she told Amber that her dad’s trip was postponed, and it would maybe happen next week, but she wouldn’t be spending the night.

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Amber said. “I was kind of hoping you’d come.”

“Well, I could come anyway, but I should stay home and, you know, catch up on stuff. You’re doing okay on algebra, right?”

“Thanks to you!” she said, smiling.

“Will you tell your mom and dad? Tell your dad not to come and pick me up?”

“Sure. Wanna do something on the weekend?”

“We could do that,” Courtney said. “I’ll ask my dad.”

And when she got home from school, Lief was gone and Spike was in the kennel waiting for her. Lief had left her a note:
Call my cell for any reason. And here are some numbers in case you have a problem of any kind. Love, Dad.

Dad. That felt so good, so right. So there was a lot in her life that was kind of upside down, but Lief was her dad and he was getting the papers signed.

They had talked about her last name—Lord. She’d been using Holbrook at school because it was less confusing, but it wasn’t her legal name. Lief had told her that after she was eighteen she could have her name legally changed if she wanted to and wouldn’t need anyone’s permission, not even Stu’s. She was planning on doing just that.

The names and numbers under his note included Kelly’s cell phone and landline, the number for the town doctor, Dr. Michaels, the number for Jack Sheridan, who could find anyone she might need, Mike Valenzuela, the town cop and the number of the veterinarian in Fortuna they’d taken Spike to for his shots.

She’d only been home a couple of hours when her cell phone rang, and she saw that it was Lief.

“Hi, honey,” he said. “Doing okay?”

“Just doing homework,” she said. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was doing homework, but she wasn’t doing it with Amber. She was doing it at home alone. She was thinking about making some mac and cheese, and while she told the literal truth, she knew she was misleading him. She just wanted him to know that they could make it, just the two of them. She wanted him to know she’d stick by him, and he didn’t need to be sad anymore.

Regardless of all the things Jerry and Lilly had said about this, about worrying about the grief and pain the future might bring, it still seemed like the best idea was proving herself competent. And proving to Lief he didn’t need anyone else.

“When is court?” she asked him.

“I appear in judge’s chambers tomorrow, not open court. Stu signed his documents and doesn’t even have to be there. I’ll see the judge at nine, be done by ten, have a meeting with the lawyer, then lunch with my agent since I’m here and can’t get a flight back till later. Then I’ll drive home from the Bay Area. You’ll probably be asleep when I get home.”

“But will you text me if you have any problem with the judge?” she asked.

“Of course, but don’t worry. I’ve been told that, with Stu’s consent, this is as good as over.”

“Okay. And will you please wear your seat belt?” she asked.

There was momentary silence. “Courtney, I always wear a seat belt, you know that.”

“Right. Yeah. Just making sure.”

“You all right, honey?”

“Sure. I think it’s time to eat, I’d better go.”

“Well, say thank you to Hawk and Sinette for me, will you please?”

“Yeah, I will. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“I’ll give you a call when you should be home from school, before I catch my flight.”

“Good. Right,” she said. “See you later.”

Once she had signed off, she felt all proud again. She felt like this was the right thing to do, to show him they’d be fine without anyone else joining their family. She finished her homework, started water boiling for her mac and cheese, and then she heard the telltale sound of gnawing.

Crap!
she thought. She’d forgotten about Spike. He was loose. And it took him about ten seconds to get in trouble.

And then there was a pop, a yelp, the lights in the other room flickered, and all went quiet. “Spike!” she yelled. “Oh, God, Spike!” There was no response.

Courtney ran frantically through the house, looking for him. The yelp had been close, he must have been near the kitchen. She looked behind the couch, in the pantry and laundry room, but she couldn’t find him. She called and called, but he didn’t come. Then she saw a bit of blond fluff sticking out from behind the entertainment center, and with a gasp, she ran.

She lifted the limp dog; at five months he was large and heavy. But totally limp! And the end of his tail was
black!
The fur was burned! And his lips were black! “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she cried, holding him in her arms.

She carried him with her to the kitchen. He was lifeless, his head lolling. She laid him gently on the kitchen floor while she grabbed the cordless and her list of phone numbers. She dialed the vet.

“This is the Sequoia Veterinary Hospital. Our hours of operation are….”

She hung up on the recording. Whom to call? She put her hand on Spike’s chest and jostled him; she was hyperventilating. She was afraid he was dead!

Well, the vet’s office was closed. Not the human doctor! Not the bar! She called Kelly’s number.

When Kelly answered, Courtney shrieked! “Kelly! Spike! I think he’s dead! My dad’s gone! I don’t know what to do!”

“Did you call the vet?”

“They’re closed! I’m not sure what happened to him! I heard him chewing, heard a noise like a pop, found him with his head behind the bookcase and I think he’s dead! He’s all limp. His mouth and tail are black!”

“Oh, God, is he breathing at all? Was he chewing a wire?”

“I don’t know,” Courtney said, beginning to cry.

“Stop crying and listen to me. Do you know CPR? I don’t know if it’ll help, but you can try breathing into his nose. Not big breaths, but small ones for his small body. Hold his mouth closed and blow into his nose. And I’m on my way! Can you do that?”

“Uh-huh,” she whimpered through her tears. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m hanging up so I can come over, all right?”

“’Kay,” she said, crying. “’Kay. Hurry.”

It took Kelly fifteen minutes to get to Lief’s house, and all the way there she was wondering, What is Courtney
doing
there? As she understood it, Lief was making a quick trip to Los Angeles County Court to get the final filing on his custody of Courtney. But Courtney and the puppy were supposed to be with Amber. It was just after six, and Courtney had her hands full of dead dog.

Oh, this is great,
she thought dismally.
What in God’s name am I going to do with this situation?

When she got to Lief’s house, she was doubly alarmed to find the front door standing open. “Courtney?” she yelled.

“In here!”

Kelly followed her voice and found Courtney kneeling beside the dog in the kitchen, Spike on the floor and looking calm and sleepy, but not dead.

“Is he all right?” Kelly asked.

Courtney turned to her, her face pathetic with the tracks of tears, red nose, puffy lips. “He’s breathing, but not a lot. And he can’t stand up!”

“Holy crap, look at that tail,” Kelly said, grabbing the phone. “Where’s the vet’s number?”

“They’re closed!” Courtney said desperately. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Sh. Just pet him a little and let me listen a second.” The recording came on explaining the hours of operation, but after that there was a number for an emergency animal hospital, available twenty-four hours. Kelly scribbled down the number, placed the call and spoke to an operator or receptionist. “Hi. I have a five-month-old pup—Labrador or golden mix—and I’m not real sure what happened to him, but—”

“He chewed wires!” Courtney cried out with a sob in her voice.

Kelly looked at the dog. “Well, that explains it. He chewed on wires. I think he got a bad shock. He’s breathing but his mouth and tail are burned and he can’t stand up.”

“Is he gonna die?” Courtney cried.

“Sh,” Kelly said. Then into the phone she said, “Sure, where are you?” She scribbled on the back of Lief’s note. “Okay, we’ll be there. Thanks.”

She disconnected and looked at Courtney. “Get your jacket, kiddo. He needs to go to the hospital.”

“Is he gonna die?” she asked again, desperate.

“I have no idea, but he’s not dead yet. Let’s take him to the vet. Get your jacket. And maybe a special toy or blanket for Spike.”

“’Kay,” she said, running to do so.

And Kelly thought again, what the hell? Lief is out of town! They’re not supposed to be here.

She looked at the note and list of numbers—hers was there along with others. Not the Hawkinses’ number, however.

Courtney insisted on carrying Spike to the car, wrapped in his favorite filthy, demolished, threadbare and frayed blanket. Once they were under way, Kelly said, “Your dad told me he was flying to L.A. but that you would be at Amber’s house for the night…”

“I know,” she said with a sniff. “He’s going to be so pissed…”

“Well, what’s going on?”

“I wanted to prove to him that I could handle things. That I don’t need a babysitter! But I can’t! I might’ve killed Spike! Because I wasn’t watching!”

“Aw, Courtney,” Kelly said. “When you’re fourteen and as responsible as you are, it’s not a babysitter, it’s more like company. And an adult in case you need something, like a ride to the doggie doctor. And he’s not dead yet, so let’s not bury him. Okay?”

“What if I killed him?” she sobbed, laying her head on his fur.

“Well, first of all, you didn’t. Puppies, like small children, get into trouble sometimes. You have to be alert. But you didn’t feed him the live wires.”

“It’s my fault. I don’t like him to have to stay in the kennel. He’s getting big and it’s getting too small and I know he’s going to learn to stop doing bad things. He goes to the back door now! When he has to go outside! Every time!”

Kelly reached over and gave the dog a caress. “Don’t borrow trouble. He’ll probably be just fine.”

Dr. Santorelli was a silver-haired man in his sixties with a great sense of humor. He gave Courtney a little peace of mind. “Oh, he’s had a bad shock, that’s for sure. I think he’ll be all right. Don’t know about that tail, though. He might lose the end of it. That jolt went straight through him and blew out the end of his tail.”

“Oh, no,” Courtney sobbed.

“Easily fixed, really. He’ll have to stay the night, get some IV fluids and some antibiotic and a little oxygen. He’s stunned and hurt, but not terminal. I think your biggest worry is whether he’s brain damaged from the jolt.”

Courtney sniffed. “How will I know?”

Dr. Santorelli peered at her over the top of his glasses. “If he chews wires again, brain damaged.”

Kelly put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

“I have Labs,” Santorelli said. “I had to take rocks out of one’s stomach. Then I had one who ate one of those disposable plastic razors. My fault—I didn’t get the shower door closed and she got in there and ate an entire shaver. Had to watch for razor blades to pass….”

“Really?” Courtney asked.

“Oh, yes. I’ll never hear the end of that one. My fault and all. But it was my wife’s shaver. One of those scented ones. I think she should share responsibility, personally.”

“It didn’t kill her?” Courtney asked. “The dog, I mean?”

“Hey, I’m a veterinarian!” he teased. “Everything passed, clean as a whistle.” He leaned close to Courtney. “I get the shower door closed now.”

“When do they stop chewing everything in sight?” Kelly asked.

“Some never do. Most outgrow it in a couple of years. But some eat the wildest things, you’d almost wonder if they need to eat them. Like rocks, garbage, plastic, wood. The rule of thumb is, watch your dog and figure out what he does. If he’s a chewer, replace the bad thing with the good thing. Tell him ‘No!’ and give him the rawhide. That’s a good start.”

“He goes outside and not on the rug now,” Courtney said, proudly but tearfully.

Kelly instinctively put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, holding her, giving support and comfort.

“Listen, you have to watch them, but understand something—they get the best of all of us sometimes. They take off running, chase cars, eat valuable or dangerous stuff, get in fights with other animals, all kinds of things. They’re animals, young lady. We love ’em. We don’t necessarily trust ’em.”

“Will you let Spike out tomorrow?” Kelly asked.

“I imagine so. But I want a closer look at the tail—might need a surgical procedure. And I need to get a little life back in him. He’s had a bad shock.” He raised a brow at them. “Literally,” he added.

On the way home Courtney said, “I guess you could probably take me to Amber’s. That would probably be all right.”

“It’s late,” Kelly said. “We don’t have to bother them. I’ll just sleep on your couch and you get some rest.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I know, honey. But I think you’ve had a hard enough night. I don’t mind.”

“But you don’t have pajamas,” she said.

“I’ll live. Won’t be the first time I’ve slept in my clothes.”

“My dad’s going to kill me.”

“Nah, he’ll get over it…”

Courtney glanced at her. “You could’ve said, ‘Oh, we don’t have to tell him.’”

Kelly smiled. “No. I couldn’t. You have to own it, Courtney. When you screw up you own it, you make amends, you learn your lesson.”

“Yeah, I guess. Sooner or later he’d find out anyway. Like when he sees Spike with a shorter than usual tail.”

“Yeah. Dead giveaway.”

It was quiet in Kelly’s car for a long time. Then Courtney said, “It was nice of you to help me out, take me to the vet…”

“You’d do it for me,” she replied.

“Well, thanks a lot. I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Listen, Courtney, if I hadn’t answered, someone else would’ve. Jack or Preacher or Amber’s dad… I like Spike. I was happy to help out.”

Another long silence passed. Then Courtney said, “You can sleep in my dad’s room if you want to.”