“If and when Ms. Tucker and I decide to marry, we’ll be happy to give you the exclusive.”
5:00 p.m.
Libby startled awake when we pulled up the gravel drive. “Please tell me this is the lodge down the road from your cabin.”
I bent over her to look up. “Nope.”
“A cabin is a little three or four room thing.”
“It has only three or four bedrooms. And look, it’s made out of logs.”
Cass came barreling down the covered front porch. David didn’t have a chance to open the door before Libby exited the car to greet Cass with a sweet kiss. I wound my arms around both of them. Cass tugged on my arm and Libby looked at him. “Cass, he can’t pick you up for a couple of weeks, and you’re getting too big to be carried around, anyway.”
He frowned, and I frowned at her. I wanted him to be a kid as long as he could, and I would carry him as long as I could.
Before I could say anything, David picked up Cass, put him on his shoulders, and was bounding up the stairs.
We found my mother in the kitchen preparing food. “Mom, I told you to pick up food, you didn’t have to do all this.”
My father stuck his head in from the back screened porch. “You know your mother. She loves to fuss around in the kitchen.” He came in with a platter of barbeque chicken, which he set down on the island.
Avery put the luggage down before he grabbed a chicken leg and put it in his mouth. My mother raised a brow, placed the platter in his hands and pointed toward the dining room. We spent the next three hours being interviewed by Cass. He had a lot of questions; I think he was trying to figure out how he was going to fit in with his newly ascribed family.
David volunteered that he and Avery would clean up, if my mom supervised. I went to the back porch with my dad and had a man-to-man, while Libby took Cass for a walk on the pier down at the lake. I watched Cass climb into Libby’s lap and snuggle up to her in the twilight. When they came back, my mother removed her apron and my dad handed her a jacket, which she slipped into. “Avery, we need to be going.” She motioned both David and Avery toward the front door.
“What are you talking about? I just got here.”
“We already told Cass, so he won’t fuss.” My mother kissed first me, then Libby. “We’ll see you on Monday.”
“I stocked the fridge for you,” my father said.
“I’ll walk you out,” I said as they reached the screen.
“No need, son, you had a tough day. I know you’ll take excellent care of him.” My father kissed Libby on her forehead.
Cass ran out on the porch waving his goodbyes.
Libby regarded me with an expression of exasperation. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere with no vehicle.”
“I know. Isn’t it great? You have nowhere to run.”
Cass giggled. “Mom, Tank is parked behind the cabin.”
She stuck out her tongue at me.
“Promise?” I said to irritate her.
My hip was starting to throb, and it was getting late. We needed a good night’s sleep. I turned to Cass. “Let’s go up. I’ll take a shower, while you take a bath.”
“At the same time?” Cass asked perplexed.
“Sure, guys shower in the same rooms all the time. We can have man-time. I’ll teach you how to shave.”
He smiled with enthusiasm. “I don’t have no whiskers yet.”
“We’ll pretend.” He turned in the direction of the stairs. “Go watch TV in the family room and relax,” I said to Libby.
I let hot water cascade down my body until there was none left, steeling myself until the pain in my hip finally eased.
Cass was still hesitant about his nudity so I helped him into his boxers, before he climbed on a step stool. I sprayed shaving foam into his hand and gave him a plastic shoe horn to use as his razor. He patted the foam onto his face, mimicking me.
“How come you never came to look for me?”
It was like a sucker punch right to the heart. I leaned onto the counter for support. He didn’t look hurt, but curious. I should have expected it: he was inquisitive by nature, and he never hesitated to ask about whatever concerned him.
“I messed up, when I found out your mom was going to have a baby. Instead of being happy, I was mad at her.”
“You didn’t want to have a son?” Again he looked confused.
I wiped off the rest of my lather. “Let’s go sit down and have a man-to-man.”
“You mean a man-to-boy,” he giggled.
I tousled his hair and led him into my bedroom, where his PJ’s were laid out. I helped him into them, before we climbed in the bed. “I want to tell you a story.”
“Okay. Is it about baseball?”
“In a way, yes. I had an older brother.”
“Older than your brother Avery?”
“Even older than me. His name was Andy. Andy was the best big brother in the world, but he died when I was nine years old.”
“That’s sad. Did he die of Leukemia?”
“No, Cass, he died in a sports car; his car slid off a bridge.” I sifted through the catastrophe looking for the pieces that could help explain my deepest thoughts to my son. It was like I was a victim of an eruption, frozen in that single moment, when the burning ash and heat of my brother’s death rendered all my petrified memories silent. And like an innocent victim, my baked remains would crumble into ash if prodded to deeply. Libby was the only person I had ever spoken to of Andy, but I shared the memories with Cass as best I could.
When I was done, he was quiet for long minutes before he spoke. “Sometimes life throws you curve balls.”
“That’s for sure. When I found out your mom was going to have my baby, I was scared. I was young, and the only thing that’s ever scared me in my life was your mother.”
“My mommy is not scary, Mr. Pole-ow-ski, she never gets mad at me, even when I do naughty things.”
“I know, Cass, but sometimes when big people care about each other they get scared because they aren’t sure.”
“You were scared that mommy wouldn’t love you?”
“Yes, and I was scared that if I loved her, I might not be able to have her and baseball. I was afraid of being responsible for another person. I thought I couldn’t have a baby, and a baseball career, I was afraid my parents would be disappointed. People should be married before they have babies, Cass, they should be committed to each other before they have families.”
“I still don’t know why you never came to look for me, though. Didn’t you wonder who I was? I wondered about you a lot and I thought you were dead.”
“I wondered about you, but when you do something wrong, and you hurt other people, every day you let pass is another strike against you. I thought you had a family, and they might not want me to come around. I thought you’d be better off with them than with me. I thought you’d hate me for not being there for you.”
Cass rested his head against the back of his pillow, looking up at me. “You big people make everything so hard. I love Lori, how come it doesn’t make me scared?”
“Because you never loved anyone you lost.”
“But, Mister Pole-ow-ski, I lost you.”
“But now we found each other, and when you grow up you’ll fall in love with a girl like Madi Dubrowski, and you won’t be afraid because you’ll know all about love.”
“Cause you’ll show me?” he questioned.
“No, because your mommy already has.”
A wistful smile took his face, before he spoke, “I’m not going to grow up.”
His tone picked at my soul. “Of course you are.”
“No, Mister Pole-ow-ski, I’m going to be a kid forever.”
“Cass, you’re going to grow up. Are you afraid of that?”
“No, I’m not even afraid of dying.”
I pulled him close to me hugging him. “Cass, don’t say that. You can’t think like that.”
“I don’t think it, I know it. I haven’t told mommy because she is scared for me, but you’re not scared of anything anymore, so I can tell you.”
I looked down into his solemn face and his eyes reflected his old soul. “I won’t let you die. I promise.”
Cass had his eyes closed, when he patted my hand. “It will be okay, Mister Pole-ow-ski, it will be okay.”
I pulled him closer and breathed in the scent of him and prayed that he was wrong. Please, God, let him be wrong, watch over him, and keep him safe. Don’t let him die, when I had only just found him. I hadn’t loved him long enough to let him go. The God I knew was kind and loving, and he could not be that cruel to me again.
26
RETREAT
To accomplish his purpose, a wise man will even carry his enemy on his back. Panchatantra, 6th century
Libby
“You got one,” were the enthusiastic words that woke me on Saturday morning. I reached out wondering where Aidan was, when I suddenly heard him cry out again in happiness in the distance. I jumped out of bed and twisted into a robe before I pulled back the drape. Through the barren trees I could see Aidan and Cass out on the dock. Their fishing poles leaned against the rail, while Aidan wrangled the hook out of a large flopping fish. Cass jumped up and down in victory on the dock.
After I pan-fried Cass’ catch, I took him for a hike, forcing Aidan onto the couch, insisting that he rest.
Cass was more energetic since his last medication change, but after a circuit around the lake, I was able to persuade him to take a nap only because his buddy was taking one. I sat on the floor and leaned against the sofa and read a report that Gwen sent me about Espinoza, scanning the highlights: Drug running, age 14. Supplied half the Columbian cocaine smuggled into U.S., worth in excess of 10 billion. 2,000 deaths linked to Columbian drug cartels since 2006. I swallowed.
Aidan startled me by kissing the back of my neck. He nodded at Cass. “How’d you manage that?”
“Ten minutes of your snoring helped convince him.”
“I do not snore.” He raised an eyebrow and he twisted to sit up, maneuvering his legs on either side of me. The cushions came loose and I saw a flash of hot pink in between them.
I grabbed it, but when I saw the pink lacy contraption I felt as if I’d been served in the middle of the night. The pink strip of fabric conjured up all sorts of images: an exquisite, lanky, blonde European super model that used her thick accent to lure him to her bosom. Or it could be a leggy dominatrix who wore a leather bustier. I hated her tiny size two heine.
“How’d your panties get in my brand new sofa?” He grinned.
I wondered if I could strangle him with them.
“These aren’t mine.” I lassoed them over my head. “A pair of sticky fingers lost her panties.”
He grabbed them mid air. “I’m sorry to disappoint the low opinion you have of me, but I have no earthly idea who these belong to. The sick thing is this is a new sofa.”
My mind was drawn from the creative expletives I was going to hiss at him to the picture window and the road that lead to the cabin. A set of high-beams ambled down the road fast enough to leave a trail of dust dancing in the taillights. “Maybe the pink panty fairy decided to retrieve her under-things.”
He raised a single brow. “Not many people know about this place.” The wide expanse of his back hid me from view.
Growing more concerned, I looked out at the darkness settling around us. “What about a reporter?”
“No way.”
“Vanessa?”
“This is strictly a guy place. Beer, poker, and fishing.”
“Did you poker the pink panties?”
“You’re starting to sound like an old fish wife.” Aidan flipped on the porch light and reached behind the sofa for a baseball bat. “Take Cass upstairs.” When I came back, the vehicle had turned into the drive. It was a sparkling silver 600 series BMW.
Before the car came to a complete halt, Tricia jumped out of the passenger-side door. She ran up the wooden porch steps in her stilettos, when one of them got caught, she didn’t stop. Instead, she shucked the second one, racing into the house. Aidan waited for Fletch.
Tricia made a bee line into the large knotty-pine paneled family room. With the porch light, and the low burning embers in the stone fireplace, I watched as she got down on her knees in front of the couch and started tearing off the seat cushions, rummaging through the crevices. “Damn. Does Aidan have a maid?”
Aidan flipped on the table lamps, Tricia popped up from her knees like a jack-in-the-box.
“Are you looking for these perhaps?” The pink satin dangled off Aidan’s fingertips.
Fletch snatched the underpants out of Aidan’s grasp. “What the hell are you doing with my wife’s panties, Palowski?”
Aidan turned on him with eyes narrowed in warning. His voice dropped to a gravelly tone. “Wrong question, Fletch. The correct question is what are your wife’s panties doing in my new couch, in my cabin, in my woods?”
Fletch was as composed as one could be, with guilt dripping from his eyes. I had seen the same look on witness’s faces when they’d been sweated out in the box. Tricia didn’t worry about her husband’s distress. She moved into the kitchen and went right for the Beehive cookie jar, she removed the lid, and pulled something red and lacy out before she dove in again retrieving a cookie, which she stuck between her teeth.
“Do you want to explain what’s going on?” Aidan asked.
“Not especially.” Her voice wobbled around the cookie. “You tell him, Fletchie.”
“How many did you hide?” Fletch asked in irritation.
“Obviously more than you could handle, or there wouldn’t be any left.” She had her hand on her hip and her vibrant red toes were tapping with an equal amount of aggravation.
Fletch took a predatory step toward his wife. “Now you listen to me, Wife, I will be more than happy to demonstrate, right in front of our audience, exactly what kind of a game we had going on the last time we came up here.”
Tricia stuck out her tongue before stepping onto the back screened-in porch. We followed in a trail of her cookie crumbs like Hansel and Gretel, afraid we’d lose our way. She bent over the dining table and pulled a black pair of panties from their duct-taped prison underneath the tabletop.
“Have the decency to come clean when you play sex games on my property.” Aidan probed. “For God’s sake, Libby thought I’d done some bimbo on the sofa.” A disgusted look crossed his stern features. “You owe me a new sofa.” He thought for a moment. “Please tell me you did not do it in my custom-made bed, with the custom-made mattress and sheets.”