Summer Breeze (28 page)

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Authors: Catherine Palmer

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BOOK: Summer Breeze
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“Pick out a nice set of beads for me, Ashley,” Charlie requested. “Let’s make it three strands and dip one of them down kind of long.”

Esther gave a little squawk. “Oh, Charlie, are you getting me an early Christmas present, you silly goose? Don’t you know better than to order a gift right in front of me?”

“Indeed I do,” he intoned. “You have taught me well, woman. This necklace isn’t for you. I thought I’d have Ashley create something that Cody can give his aunt for Christmas. That way, in case he forgets to buy her something, he’ll be covered.”

At the mention of Cody’s name, all three people on the porch fell silent. Esther messed around with the beads while Ashley wrote in her notebook. Charlie thought about the young man who had helped clean their house throughout the summer. Cody hadn’t been gone long, but already the spiderwebs were starting to build up and get messy along the eaves, and the windows could use a washing.

But doing chores wasn’t the main reason Charlie missed Cody. There was something special about the boy. The way he always smiled and greeted people with a wave of the hand. The way he would suddenly start spouting Bible verses or discussing his favorite subjects—chocolate cake and hot dogs. Deepwater Cove didn’t seem the same without the familiar sight of a slender, carefree figure strolling along the roads from one house to another.

“I miss Cody,” Ashley spoke up finally. “It’s hard to believe he just up and left us.”

“He wanted to go see his aunt,” Esther said. “That’s under- standable.”

“Did you get a letter, Mrs. Moore?”

“Yes, but he gave the same information to all of us. Must’ve just written one letter and then copied it over and over again for each person in the neighborhood.”

Charlie grunted. “He ought to have told us what he thought about his new life. The whole letter was nothing but an account of the bus ride and then a long description of his aunt’s house. Moldings around the window frames and brass doorknobs. Who cares about that? I want to know if he likes the woman and if he’s happy there.”

“He assumes we know that,” Esther said, patting her husband’s knee. “Marylou Goss is his aunt. She wanted to reunite what’s left of her family. Of course he likes her. You know Cody. He likes everyone.”

“Well, that’s true—unfortunately for us. If he could live out in the woods and eat bugs, he can survive anywhere. So I guess we might as well start getting used to it.”

At the thought of never seeing Cody’s curly hair and bright blue eyes again, Charlie had an awful feeling he might choke up. So he pushed himself out of his rocker and headed for the house. “Corn husks, beads, and belly dancers,” he muttered. “I’ve had about all the fun I can stand. See you two ladies later.”

Inside, he settled into his recliner and pressed the Power button on the TV remote control. Through an open window, he could hear his wife giving Ashley all the details of Miranda Finley’s most recent exhibition. Thank goodness the game shows were on. Charlie raised the volume just a tad higher than usual; then he leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes.

Working the day shift gave Derek the opportunity to share the evening meal with his family that week. He had made a valiant effort to enjoy the time with his loved ones, but Kim’s long silences had erected a definite barrier between them. After his confession on the deck during the twins’ birthday party, he had returned to the house bearing birthday gifts he had picked out earlier for them. Despite the kids’ joy over the purse and the skateboard, Kim wouldn’t even look at her husband.

The rest of the week, they barely spoke each morning, and dinners were taken up with the twins’ usual banter. Miranda’s quick trip to St. Louis had also impacted mealtimes. Upon her return, Derek’s mother felt compelled to describe Cody’s departure on the bus, her trouble with the moving and storage company, and her efforts to select a real estate agent and put her house on the market. Kim hardly said a word except to respond to questions.

That Friday’s pizza night was proceeding as usual, but Derek sensed that most of the fun was missing as the family picked out ingredients and layered them onto the dough. He knew things with Kim were bad, but he had no intention of reopening that topic. Instead, he wanted to act as normal as possible. Kim and the kids had somehow worked things out with Miranda, so they had an interesting array of toppings to choose from. After the pizzas had baked, Derek tried to liven up the meal as everyone sat around the dining room table.

“Now, what is this green stuff, Mom?” he asked, pointing to a sprig on a slice of pizza. “You know how I feel about green stuff.”

“That is basil, for your information.” Miranda smiled at her son. “You know exactly what that
green stuff
is, young man, because I grew basil in the backyard herb garden every summer. And you used to pick it for me.”

“Which kind do you like better, Derek?” Lydia asked. “Grandma Finley’s pizza or ours?”

Derek could see that bullet headed his way, and he quickly dodged it. “Aren’t all these pizzas ours?” He pointed to the slices on his plate. “This kind with the pepperoni and this one with the sausage and this one here with the green stuff?”

“But which one tastes best?” Lydia was swinging her legs under the table, which made her bounce up and down on the seat. “I like ours best, because it has tomato sauce. Grandma Finley’s doesn’t.”

“Hers stinks,” Luke declared.

“Hey, bud, that’s no way to talk about our dinner.”

“Oh, Derek, you used to the say the same thing,” Miranda reminded him. “I don’t know why I bothered.”

“Tiffany broke up with her boyfriend,” Lydia announced. “She hates him now. She burned all his letters.”

“What does Tiffany have to do with pizza?” Luke asked.

“The last time I ate pizza was at Tiffany’s house. Her mother’s a waitress at the pizza place in Camdenton, so they have it almost every night. And that’s when Tiffany told me she broke up with her boyfriend, so we burned the letters.”

“You’re not supposed to play with fire.”

“We weren’t. We burned them on the barbecue grill in the backyard. Then we burned the letters she wrote to him but hadn’t given him yet. Did you know that glitter ink sparkles and crackles when you burn it? It’s cool.”

Derek kept an ear on the conversation and an eye on his wife. Kim was performing her usual mealtime rituals. But not once did she look at her husband.

How long was this going to continue? They had always enjoyed each other’s company whenever they were together. He teased her, and she giggled. He complimented her, and she blushed. These days Derek felt like he was living with an ice cube. The chill extended from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning until the last sight of Kim’s back turned toward him at night.

As the meal ended and everyone began clearing the table, the twins announced that they had decided to watch a movie together. Miranda declared that she was going to her bedroom to work. Derek wasn’t certain how it had happened, but his mother had found a way to spend her free time. It seemed Esther Moore and his mother had formed a partnership that had some sort of connection to Ashley Hanes. Jewelry, he thought, but he wasn’t sure.

As Kim started the dishwasher, Derek reflected on the negative changes in their marriage. Had the problems between them begun with the arrival of his mother? Or had Derek’s failure to be totally honest with Kim caused this widening rift? Or could it be a combination of the things that life had tossed their way?

While he didn’t know what had started them down this wintry path, Derek had no doubt what he wanted to happen. He wanted the arctic winds to cease and a summer breeze to return to his life. He longed to hold his wife in his arms again. Where had she gone? And how could he get her back?

If there was a real God and not just the invisible power Derek trusted to keep himself from gambling, why didn’t He step into the lives of good people?

For that matter, Derek wondered, what kept God from feeling real? He wanted to be a part of Kim’s whole world, but he couldn’t figure out how. They were so different. As hard as he’d tried to convince her that those differences could be worked out, now he wasn’t so sure.

As Kim walked past him toward the living room, Derek considered reaching out and taking her hand. But he didn’t want to risk another confrontation.

Show me what to do
. He ground out the words deep in his heart.
God, if You’re there, help me. I need her. I want my wife to love me again. I need to get her love back, and I don’t know how. Please make it happen
.

But of course, nothing did happen. Derek didn’t know why he had even hoped it might. Whatever changes had occurred in his life were the ones forged by attending GA meetings and constantly working the steps that kept him clean. Now his participation in the organization was routine, so much a part of him that he never mentioned it to anyone and hardly gave it a second thought. In the same way, his loyalty to a higher power had been part of the process he had used to break free, and he still acknowledged it in his effort to stay that way.

With a sigh of frustration, he wandered into the living room. As usual, Kim was nowhere to be seen. Anything to avoid him.

As he settled into a recliner and flipped on the television, he heard one of the twins dashing up the stairs and into the room. It was Lydia.

“Where’s our movie?” she sang out. “We can’t find our movie! Where is it, Derek? Have you seen it?”

“Check the shelf under the TV,” he told her.

Crazy kid. Always trailing bits and pieces of everything she touched. As she knelt in front of the bookshelf, he sat forward and flipped through a stack of movie cases on the table beside his chair.

“Here it is, tater tot,” he called. He tossed the case to her.

Lydia leaped up and caught the movie; then she headed for the basement again. As she passed his chair, she paused middash. “Thanks, Dad-o.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s what Lukey and I are calling you now. Dad-o. Hope you like it!”

Before Derek could respond, Lydia had skipped off and was pounding back down the stairs to the basement.
Dad-o
. He thought about the word for a moment. Well, it wasn’t bad. Through the years, he had given the twins dozens of nicknames. Nice to have one of his own. Especially one with that treasured syllable—
Dad
.

Slightly encouraged, Derek clicked through the channels. A news show. A foul-mouthed comedian. A sitcom. Maybe his talk with Lydia had actually made a difference, he speculated. Come to think of it, she had been nicer to him since that night on the front porch. Neither twin had been spewing the “I hate this family” refrain lately. He pressed the channel-change button again. A ball game. A crime serial. A fishing show.

Fishing
.

The word hit Derek like a bolt of lightning. His finger paused on the remote. What had Charlie told him about communicating with women?
You’ve got to know what you want and then fish until you catch it
. Charlie had wanted to eat shrimp at Aunt Mamie’s.

Not long ago, Derek had wanted Lydia’s trust. He had won it by “fishing” for it that night on the porch. He knew exactly what he wanted from Kim, too. He wanted her love.

What could he use for bait?

Charlie had used a simple query. “What’s wrong, Esther, honey?”

It had worked on Lydia and Esther. But would it succeed with Kim? Something so light and obvious? And if it did—if she took the bait—what would Derek pull out of the sea of their marital discord? His wife’s love … or an ill-tempered shark?

The very idea of trying Charlie’s technique on Kim made Derek’s palms sweat. Could he do it? Should he? He tried to recall the things the older man had told him.
It’s just like fishing, just like fishing.…

“Okay,” Derek murmured out loud as he stood and squared his shoulders. It might not work, but what was the alternative? Living with a silent, angry wife for the rest of his life? Or worse—losing the marriage he had sabotaged in his determination to make it work?

After trudging back and forth through the house, even checking the garage to see if her car was there, Derek finally found Kim sitting inside the screened area of their deck. She had taken her file box out to the table and was paying bills—a chore she hated.

Bad timing, Derek thought. Better head back into the house. He swallowed, frozen for a moment; then he lifted his chin. No, he could do this. He would—but not on his own.
God, if You’re there, please help me
. He said the words inside his head. But he knew the request wasn’t simply a thought. It was a prayer.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

K
im could feel Derek’s eyes on her as she wrote the check for their auto insurance. He had stepped onto the deck and was standing nearby, staring at her. When she left the house earlier, she had switched on the overhead light and pulled the chain to activate the fan. That meant he could see her clearly, but she could only sense his lurking presence.

Obviously Derek wanted something from her, but Kim didn’t have any intention of granting it—no matter what it was.

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