The Summer of Good Intentions (16 page)

She passed Arthur his piece of birthday cake. “Happy birthday, Dad!”

“How old am I again?” he asked.

She laughed, but Arthur stared at her with such a wondering look, she was caught off guard.

“Seventy-two!” Sophie shouted. “Do you feel wiser, Grandpa?”

Arthur shook his head. “Seventy-two. I am getting
old,
aren't I? And no, can't say I feel any wiser. A little balder maybe, but definitely not smarter.”

“Grandpa's going to make a really cool trap for Roger,” Luke said, as if compelled to point out that Arthur still had his wits about him.

“Who's Roger?” asked Mac.

“The raccoon, Daddy,” Sophie explained.

“That's right.” Arthur took another bite of cake. “We're going to get Roger, aren't we, kids?”

Teddy bobbed his little head with crisp, affirmative nods.

“Roger's a good name,” said Mac. “I hope you hurry up and catch him, though, because he's making a mess of our yard.” Roger had paid them visits the last two nights, strewing trash across the front lawn in unsightly heaps.

“Luke, honey, why don't you give Grandpa his present?” Maggie suggested now.

He jumped up from the table, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with a gift in hand.

“Why, thank you.” Arthur took the present from him and began to peel back the wrapping paper. “Holy smokes. Would you look at that?” He held it up for everyone to see. “My very own flat-screen TV.”

The girls laughed. “It's an iPad, Grandpa!”

Arthur winked, pretending to play dumb. “An I-what?”

“Here, I'll show you,” and before anyone could stop him, Luke ripped the computer out of his hands and ran to the couch with it.

“Luke, let Grandpa have a look,” Mac scolded. “It's his present, right?” But the other kids had already joined him. Mac turned to Arthur apologetically. “Well, at least they can help you set it up. Just don't ask any of us adults.”

“It's wonderful, but you shouldn't have,” Arthur said with a laugh. “I'm an old man. I'm not sure I can learn new tricks.”

“You're going to love it, Dad.” Jess went over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Happy birthday, you old man.” Maggie got up to do the same.

She cast around for Virgie. “Hey, where did Virgie go?” She and Jess began tossing the soggy plates into the trash.

“I think I saw her head upstairs.” Tim stood to help clear the table, and Maggie felt a jolt of sadness hit her. Instead of angry, she felt sorry for her brother-in-law. It was an odd, unfamiliar sensation.

When Mac tossed the wrapping paper and candles into the trash, Arthur said, “Now hold on there,” and fished the paper and candles back out of the bag. “You never know when you might be able to use these again.” He folded the wrapping paper into a neat little square and placed the used candles on top. Maggie glanced at Jess, who shrugged.

“I'll check on Virgie,” Maggie said and took the remainder of the cake out to the kitchen. She snapped the cover on the cake tray and grabbed the dirty kitchen towels for the laundry.
Yes,
she decided, as she climbed the stairs.
I'll tell Jess my plan for Operation Marriage Rescue
. Jess and Tim weren't beyond saving. Sometimes it took a lightning bolt to stoke the old flame. They simply needed time to talk, maybe a date night.

“Virgie?” she called at the top of the stairs. “We gave Dad his present.” She couldn't believe her sister had missed it all.

She headed for the laundry room. When she passed the kids' bedroom, she tapped on the door. “Virg?”

She pushed lightly on the door and dropped the towels. There was Virgie. Lying on the floor, facedown, not moving.

When Virgie opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was light. A bright white light. She thought, perhaps, she had died. She squinted, trying to focus, but it hurt too much. She closed her eyes.

“Virgie? Virgie, honey?” She could hear Maggie's voice above her. Maggie was in heaven, too? She tried to think. Had they been in a car accident?

“She's coming to. Thank heaven.” That was Gloria. “Virgie, dear, can you hear us? Squeeze my hand, if you can.”

Why was her mother giving her orders in heaven? Virgie wanted to know. Gloria had followed her all the way to the other side and she was still bossing her around.

She tried to say, “Mom, stop it,” but the words wouldn't budge. When Virgie worked to move her lips, her throat burned.

Then Maggie's voice found her again. “Virgie, you fainted. You're in the hospital. The doctors are running some tests to make sure you're okay. Then we'll get you out of here.” She felt her other hand being patted. “You just rest now.”

Virgie tried to nod, but a sharp pain shot through her neck. “My neck,” she managed to get out.

“Yes, you twisted it a little when you fell. It's going to be okay, though. Nothing's broken. Just a few bruises.”

“What day is it?” she asked. She couldn't figure out how long she'd been in the hospital. Why was everyone in Seattle? She needed to get back to work!

“It's Saturday, honey. We were celebrating Dad's birthday, remember? You fainted. At the summer house.”

At the mention of the summer house, Virgie felt a flash of recognition.
Oh, right
. A wash of warmth spilled over her.
Vacation
. She was on vacation. She didn't need to go to work today. Relief flooded her. But she was oh, so very tired. She heard the beeping of machines, then an unfamiliar voice.

“Time to check your vitals, honey.” She felt someone take her arm and wrap a cuff around it, followed by a squeezing sensation. “Just a few minutes, and I'll be out of your way.”

“Sure,” said a gruff voice. Arthur's?

Man, she couldn't remember feeling this tired in a long, long time. If she could just nap for maybe fifteen minutes, she'd be better. She'd catch up with everyone then. Find out what their news was. She was sure they would understand.

When she woke the next time,
the bright lights had faded. She willed her eyes to open, but the ceiling above her was gray. She heard snoring. She tried to turn her neck but felt a jab of pain.
Oh, right
. There was something about her neck. Her mouth felt like cotton. She desperately needed water. “Hello?” She tried to get the word out, but it sounded more like a squawk. Somewhere on the periphery, there was a shuffle.

“Virgie?” It was Maggie. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. Her sister's face appeared above her. “You're awake. Oh, that's good, honey. That's very good. Here.” She felt cold ice chips against her lips, and never in her life had ice tasted so delicious. She sucked and let the cold dribble down her chin. She struggled to push herself up in bed.

“Easy, there. Let me help you.” Maggie reached for the pillows and fluffed them behind her so that Virgie was semi-upright.

Virgie raised her hand to her neck and fingered the scratchy brace around it. “Yeah, that's to help with your neck. You took quite a fall,” Maggie said. “Obviously. Doctor said you'll probably need it for a few days.”

Virgie raised her fingers a few inches higher and gently touched the area around her right eye. It was bruised, tender, and she could tell that her eye was swollen. The view through it was narrower, at about sixty percent of what it should have been.

“Here's some water.” Maggie handed her a plastic cup. Virgie drank slowly, the water soothing her parched throat.

“Thanks. What happened?” she asked now, as her brain struggled to clear the cobwebs.

Maggie sat down next to her and furrowed her forehead into little lines. “You don't remember?” She put her hand on her sister's knee.

Virgie shook her head as much as she could.

“Well, you fainted.
Why
you fainted is a little less clear. The doctor thinks you were dehydrated. That plus too much sun and a glass of wine with dinner.”

“Ah,” Virgie said. “Right.” She'd forgotten the wine. Was it one or two glasses she'd had with dinner? She tried to think.
Arthur's birthday party!
“Oh, no!” she said with a start. “I ruined Daddy's party.”

“Don't worry about it,” Maggie said. “We're just happy that you're all right.”

It was starting to come back to her now. They'd had steaks on the grill and fresh asparagus. The kids had been fired up to give Arthur his present, an iPad. But Virgie couldn't recall her dad opening the gift. “Did Daddy get his gift?”

“Yeah,” said Maggie. “He loved it. Opened it right before I found you on the bedroom floor.”

“Oh.” Virgie tried to think. She remembered going upstairs for something, but what had it been? Then she remembered: Arthur's birthday card. She'd wanted to give him a card just from her. And it was upstairs that she first noticed the world seeming to shift around her, as if the ground tilted one way while she went the other. It was a similar feeling to the one she'd experienced in Seattle when she tripped and sprained her thumb. And then one of her eyes had seemed to go momentarily blind. She reached out for the bedpost to balance herself, but she must have missed.
Well, clearly she'd missed
. Her face was a car wreck; she could feel it.

“Was there an ambulance?” She remembered nothing right after the fall.

“Yup. Lots of sirens and whistles. You gave us a good scare, but I think the kids kind of loved it. Teddy and Luke wanted to ride with you in the ambulance.”

Virgie grinned, then stopped and groaned. Even her lips hurt. “You split your lip in the fall,” explained Maggie. “No stitches, though.”

Virgie closed her eyes. It hurt to think. “Where's everyone else? What time is it?”

“Mac and Tim stayed with the kids at the house. Mom and Dad were here but they just stepped over to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. It's around ten o'clock, I'd say. Still Saturday.”

“Jess?” Virgie asked.

“Ladies' room.”

She nodded slowly. It was all she needed to know right now. The day, the time, everyone's whereabouts. What had happened. She was so tired. Exhausted. If she could just sleep a little more, she was sure she'd feel better. She closed her eyes and, ever so gently, drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Sunday, Arthur was peering out the window, drinking his coffee and thinking about Virgie, when he saw him.
The rascal!
There he was, his beady little eyes staring out from behind the mask, his paws raised as he chewed on a corncob he'd dug out of the trash. Arthur slammed down his cup on the counter and hurried out the front door.

“
Shoo!
Go on! Get out of here, you big rat!” he yelled, waving his arms. Roger scurried off behind the shed, and Arthur chased him, banging on the shed to scare him as far away as he could. He saw the flash of a ringed tail in the bushes. Already, the varmint had ransacked the trash can, despite Arthur's sealing the top with a bungee cord last night. They were surprisingly clever animals—he'd give them that. Maybe he'd try duct tape next.

He started back into the house, then stopped. Today was as good a day as any to start building a trap. He'd promised Luke they would. If they actually caught the bugger, they could drive Roger out to the woods, far, far away, and leave him.
Let him bother someone else.
Arthur headed for his car parked behind the shed and began searching for any gadgets he might use. From the backseat, he pulled an assemblage of things: a spool of wire, an old box, box cutters, an old plate, some plastic grapes. He dragged it all out to the front yard.

“What are you doing?” Luke snuck up on him and Arthur jumped.

“You scared me,” he said and dropped back down on his knees. “I was about to come find you. I thought we could start building a trap for our friend.”

“Roger?” Luke rocked back and forth on his toes, a move, Arthur had noticed, his grandson did whenever he got excited. “We're going to catch Roger today?”