Summer Sunsets (8 page)

“
How long have you been
standing there?”

“
Long enough to see you
crash and burn a few times.” I step off the back patio and ease
towards her. “You used to not suck at that.”

“
Oh, well, let’s see you do
a flip, then,” she challenges. “I don’t think you’ve got it in you,
either.”

I say, “You’re on.” I take
off my shoes as she climbs down. A moment later I’m airborne above
the tramp, and the feel of it is like flying. It’s been years since
we were out here, and yet jumping like this makes it feel like no
time whatsoever has passed.

I jump a few more times to
get the feel of it again and fling my body forward, somehow
completing the rotation before my feet come back down on the tramp
again.

“
No way!” Skye shouts,
staring at me in disbelief. “You cheated.”

“
No, I didn’t. Watch and
learn.” Grinning, I complete at least three more summersaults, not
that it makes Skye very happy to know I can do something she can’t.
Poor baby.

She turns away in disgust,
and I get off the tramp. “You ready to get some dinner
now?”

“
Sure. Why not.” Her long
fingers begin fastening the straps of her sandals while I ease back
into my shoes. When we’re both finished, we walk through the
house.

“
Bye, Devin, it’s good to
see you again,” Helen calls.

“
Good night,” I say,
slipping my arm around Skye and ushering her toward the door. Once
again, she doesn’t protest, and that must mean she’s okay with it.
I can’t see Skye just putting up with something she doesn’t feel
comfortable with.

“
So what about this
wonderful dinner you’re supposed to be taking me to?” she asks,
winking.

“
Well, let’s get in the car,
and you’ll figure it out,” I promise, leading her to the Jeep. I
open her door and wait for her to slip inside before shutting
it.

“
So?” she prompts, folding
her hands in her lap.

“
You’re so impatient,” I
respond, pulling away from the curb. “Maybe I should blindfold
you.”

“
So not happening,” she
says, brushing the hair from her eyes. With the windows slightly
rolled down, that isn’t going to do much good. It’s too pretty a
night to run the AC. Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel,
I turn onto Main Street but drive past Portman’s Steak House, the
only good restaurant in town. As I expect, Skye arches her eyebrows
and points at the steak place as though she can’t believe I passed
it.

“
But….”

“
I’ve got something better.
Don’t worry.”

“
Now I’m scared,” she
retorts, shaking her head.

Five minutes later, I pull
into the parking lot of Lucy Park and take the keys from the
ignition before I get out.

“
Okay, I give. What are we
doing here?” she asks, also getting out.

“
Having dinner,” I tell her,
grabbing a picnic basket from the back of my Jeep. “I told you I
had everything under control. Oh ye of little faith.”

“
Did you bring the
antidote?”

“
It’s in there somewhere.” I
reach for her hand, and she suddenly seems to freeze. Part of me
stiffens, wondering if I’m taking things just a little too fast for
her. Then I start walking and shove my hand into my pocket so she
won’t feel so obligated. That’s when she starts walking again, a
little slower than I am, probably because she feels awkward next to
me.

Although there are a few
families out, it’s pretty quiet, considering how beautiful the
weather is, and I’m pretty sure all the high school kids won’t be
out here for another couple of hours. They like to wait until it’s
dark. Glancing around, I pick the first picnic table that isn’t in
close proximity to anyone else and nod to the round stone
bench.

“
Have a seat.”

“
As you wish.” She slips one
leg over the bench and then the other so she can sit. Watching me,
she smiles, and I think again about how beautiful she is—how
beautiful she’s always been. The smile that’s on her face suddenly
shifts into overdrive as I pull out the fried chicken I picked up
from the store just a few minutes earlier and put it on a plate. I
give it to her.

“
Oh, wow,” she gushes,
shaking her head. “This is really awesome.”

“
I promised you a wonderful
dinner, didn’t I?” I put a couple of pieces on my plate and hand
her a can of soda. “You might want to eat while it’s warm.” I give
her a napkin.

“
You don’t have to tell me
twice.” She takes the napkin and tucks it under her plate to keep
the breeze from blowing it away. She takes a bite.

As we eat, we watch a dad
and his four-year-old daughter fly a kite—or try to, anyway, the
wind isn’t cooperating enough to get it off the ground. I turn back
to Skye and see an odd expression on her face as she looks at the
girl whose blonde ringlets fall around her face. The girl laughs
and begs for her father to swing her through the air, and he does,
probably because he knows the kite will never leave the
ground.

Skye’s expression seems
neutral, but I’ve learned there’re a million things buried in her
head. She could be thinking about the father who abandoned her or
the child she aborted. She could be wondering whether she’ll ever
have kids. No matter what it is that now rattles around in her
mind, I don’t have an answer to make it easier. Besides, she’ll
talk when she’s ready.

“
Is the food okay?” I ask,
wishing I could read her better. It was so much easier when we were
kids and she trusted me with everything.

“
Yeah, it’s great,” she
says, suddenly looking down as if I’ve caught her in the middle of
something embarrassing.

“
Then why aren’t you
eating?” I see a fly buzzing close by and wave it away.

“
I am,” she says, grabbing a
piece of chicken and taking a bite. “See?” She waves the drumstick
in front of me for effect, yet even as she eats, I see her watching
the little girl, and it worries me. A lot of things worry me with
Skye, but right now I see something pressing troubling in her dark
eyes. I just can’t pinpoint what it is.

“
Skye, look,” I say, unable
to focus on the food, either. “I know maybe it’s been a while since
we’ve been inseparable, but I’m the same guy, really.”

She frowns and brushes a
hair from her face. “No, actually neither of us is the same. We
haven’t been since…that day.”

I start to argue and stop,
knowing she’s probably got a point, even if I don’t want to admit
it. I don’t think anything has been the same since that day, so I
try another way.

“
I know you’ve got trust
issues, and I understand, but—”

“
I trust you, Devin. That’s
not it,” she finally says in a quiet voice that doesn’t sound like
her. I’m right. There is something really eating at her.

“
Then talk to me. That’s all
I’m asking.” I gently reach out and grasp her hand. “You know me,
Skye--even if I have changed, there’s still nothing you can’t say
to me. Period.”

She starts fiddling with
her soda can, not bothering to drink from it, just tapping the side
to keep her fingers occupied—yet another Skye-ism. There’s so much
in everything she doesn’t say.

I nod toward the little
girl. “Look, I’m about to start inventing some kind of back-story
about that little girl being your half-sister, adopted by that guy
because your father walked out on her, too. Maybe she’s even been
adopted by midgets at the circus and this guy is just a weird uncle
or something. Can’t you just see her with a rainbow wig and a red,
bulbous nose? You want me to continue?”

She kind of
half-laughs—less than I’m hoping for but definitely more than I
expect. “Yeah, well, maybe he got another cheerleader pregnant. Two
four six eight, who do we insperminate? Way to go, Dad.” She shakes
her head in disgust.

I scoot around the bench
until I’m sitting beside her as she folds both arms on the table
and leans on them. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk, I will.” I
pause, waiting for her to chime in, but no go. She’s as silent as
the grave. “Okay, her real mother is a cheerleader/witch. She’s
wiccan, actually. She used to read fortunes for the circus owned by
the midgets, but when they saw her get knocked up by your dad, they
knew she was a fake because she should’ve seen him coming, so she
doesn’t have a job anymore and lets the midgets adopt her so she
can practice her cursing skills. Right now, she’s even looking for
a curse to saddle your father with—I’m thinking perpetual jock itch
might do—“

“
Devin, stop!” That does it.
Skye’s laughing so hard she’s crying.

I nod. “Okay. It’s your
turn. Tell me why you keep staring at that little girl. Yeah, I
know she’s cute—adorable even. But we both know that’s not it. So
tell the truth. I’ll know otherwise and make the witch curse you
with a never-ending tickle spell.” I run my finger down her side,
and she jumps.

She starts to open her mouth
and closes it while brushing the hair from her face. She takes a
deep breath like she’s psyching herself up for whatever she’s going
to say. She licks her lips, and I think,
C’mon, Skye, just spit it out. Whatever it is, we can handle
it together
.

She nods to the child.
“She’s a beautiful girl, Devin. Perfect in every way.”

I nod in agreement,
suddenly sensing the hill we’re about to go down isn’t a
medium-sized one like I thought. It’s not about the disappointment
of her father leaving. Oh, no. This is the first hill of a monster
roller-coaster, the big one that sets the speed for the whole ride.
This is about the abortion.

I shift slightly and say,
“Yeah, she’s amazing. So?” Ahead, a flock of ducks flies overhead,
honking as they pass.“I’ll never know if the child I carried was a
boy or a girl.” She blinks a few times. “Sometimes I try to
imagine, but it’s hard.”

Part of me wants to ask,
“Skye, why would you do that?” but I know why. That’s the hell of
it. She thinks she deserves it even after all this time. “Skye, you
can’t change it. There’s no point in dwelling on it.”

She kind of looks at me
funny. “It was a baby, not an ‘it,’ Devin—a boy or a girl. I’ll
just never know which.” Her back and shoulders are rigid, and I
know how hard this must be for her. I’d hoped time might help her
heal, but it hasn’t.

“
I didn’t mean it like that,
Skye, honest to God I didn’t. It’s just that even if you knew the
gender, it wouldn’t make you hurt any less.”

I hear the child giggling,
and we both look over in time to see her father chasing her around,
grabbing her, and tickling her silly. Sunlight dances through her
hair, and her eyes shine with happiness. He starts laughing. I wish
somebody were taking pictures for him to remind him of how
wonderful his life is right at this moment and how he needs to
fight with everything he’s got to keep it that way, especially when
that little girl grows up.

“
I’ve always thought the
baby was a girl. She’s probably be five by now—dark hair, maybe
blue eyes.” Her voice is breathy like she can’t take in air quickly
enough.

My jaw clenches, and I want
to shake her from all this pain. I could tell her it’s not her
fault. Then again, I’ve said that before, and I don’t know think
she listened then, either, so I do the only think I know to do: I
slip closer and gently ease my arm around her. “I know you never
meant to hurt anyone. Things happen. We all make
mistakes.”

“
No,” she whispers, staring
at the child. “This was no mistake. It was a choice. My choice. I
could’ve done things differently, but I didn’t.”

I set my palm on her back
as I see she’s actually trembling. At first, she jumps from the
sudden feel of touching me. Then, as I start lightly tracing
patterns on her back, she gradually relaxes. “I know you’d take
this back if you could, but you can’t. I’m sure when you have kids,
you’ll be a great mother because this hurts so much.”

“
Why would God ever give me
another child after this?” She closes her eyes, and her shoulders
slump as though she’s carrying the weight of the world and it’s
starting to bury her. “I don’t see any kids for me. I don’t even
see any boyfriends in my future, let alone a husband—not after what
Tyler did.”

At those words, part of me
freezes. Deep down, I know Skye is meant to be with me, but even if
I didn’t believe that, I’d still want her to have a wonderful
husband and as many kids as her heart desires. “What you’re feeling
isn’t unusual. There’re lots of women who have abortions, and
emotions like what you’re feeling kick into overdrive years
after.”

She crinkles her nose at me.
“You talk like a shrink, Devin. Have you been reading
Psychology Today
or
something?” she jokes, and in another situation, it would have been
funny. This just isn’t that situation.

“
Actually, I’ve been keeping
up with the studies and articles on the subject.”

Her eyes grow wider. “Why?
Why would you even want to read about it? I don’t.”