Rocky Point Reunion (9 page)

“I didn't hear an offer to help carry the cooler.”

“Oh, that's the job of a strong man,” Marcie teased. “Not us helpless little women.”

The girls laughed at her joke. “We're strong, Aunt Marcie,” Jenny said.

“I know, but men like to do things like that to show off how strong they are.”

“You know men?” Zack asked.

“A bit about them,” she teased. For a moment it was as it always had been between them. Their gazes caught, held.

“You're soo strong, Uncle Zack,” Jenny said in false admiration. She and Sally Anne giggled, which broke Marcie's gaze. She laughed with the girls, feeling warmth to her toes.

By the time everyone was at the top of the cliff, it was full night. The sky was darker than normal as the new moon was starting. The stars began to twinkle.

“Can we lie out on the grass and look at the stars?” Jenny asked.

“We need to get Sally Anne home,” Zack said.

“I can stay a little while longer. My mom won't care,” Sally Anne said.

“You did say you were giving them a night to themselves,” Marcie reminded him, surprising herself. She didn't want to leave.

“Do you want to lie out on the grass, getting whatever bugs are around into your hair, probably freezing by the time we're through?” he asked, as though giving Marcie an out.

But she didn't want one. “Where's your sense of adventure? I brought a jacket, the girls can get a blanket from the house and we'll all lie down and look at the stars.”

“Okay, I'm overruled, I can see.” The smile on his face showed he didn't mind a bit. He locked gazes with Marcie for a moment, surprise shining in his eyes.

The girls yelled with joy and raced into the house to get a blanket. In less than ten minutes, the leftover food had been put away and all four were lying on the blanket, gazing at the dark night sky, Jenny and Sally Anne between them.

“I see the Big Dipper,” Jenny said, pointing.

“Me, too,” said Sally Anne.

Marcie was content to be near Zack. Share the evening with him, just look at the sky, enjoying the beauty of God's handiwork.

“It's said God knows the names of all the stars,” she said softly. “What's that one's name?” Jenny asked, pointing to a bright one near the horizon.

“I think that's Venus,” Zack said. “Not a star but a planet.”

“Daddy says he always feels closest to God outside. Why is that?”

“Nothing man-made to interfere, I expect,” Marcie said.

“So God can hear our prayers better if we're outside?” Sally Anne asked.

“He can hear our prayers wherever we are,” Marcie said. “But maybe He hears them a bit louder if we're outside.”

“Dear God, please bless my daddy and Gillian and have them come home soon,” Jenny said.

As the girls were deep in conversation about the wedding, Zack's cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket as he sat up to answer. “What!” he exclaimed into the phone.

Zack's expression was hard to see in the dim starlight. Marcie hoped it wasn't bad news.

“I'll be there as soon as I can get there. Thanks, Tate.”

He flipped the phone closed and stood. “Time to take Sally Anne home,” he said.

“What happened?” Marcie asked as she scrambled to her feet and helped the girls up.

Zack leaned close to Marcie and whispered, “Sean was picked up with some other teens at a drinking party. When Tate started to call his mother, he asked if he'd call me instead.”

“Why?”

“How should I know? But after I drop you and Sally Anne off, I'm heading to the sheriff's office to find out.”

“I'll come with you.”

Again their gazes locked. And just like that, their evening under the stars was over. But something new seemed to be starting.

 

After Zack delivered Sally Anne home, he offered again to drop Marcie at her place before heading to the sheriff's office.

She shook her head. “I want to see what's going on. It's not as if teenagers haven't been having keg parties since the beginning of beer,” she added. “What's Tate going to do, ground them all for life?”

Zack laughed. “I doubt it. He and I and Joe had a few ourselves.” He didn't know why Sean had Tate call him, but the kid could use a break and Zack wanted to find out more about the situation.

“A few what, Uncle Zack?”

Marcie turned and looked at Jenny. “A few experiences they should have waited for.”

The little girl looked confused. Zack could see her in the rearview mirror trying to process the adult conversation.

“A friend got into trouble with the law. He called me to help,” Zack said.

“Is he a bad man?” Jenny asked.

“No. At least I don't think so. I want to find out what's going on and then help him.”

“Jesus would do that, wouldn't He, Aunt Marcie?”

“Absolutely. Do you know if anyone got hurt?” she asked.

“I don't know anything, actually. Will you sit with Jenny while I go in? That'll save me taking her inside.”

“Sure.”

Zack parked in the lot next to the Town Hall, which housed the sheriff's office in an annex at the back. It was after ten and the streets were deserted. Not a lot of night life in Rocky Point. The lot was well lit, such a contrast to the dark night sky they'd recently been enjoying.

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” Zack said, getting out of the truck.

Entering the old building gave him a feeling of déjà vu. He had been the one calling his father one night after he and Joe, Tate and Tom had played some hijinks at the high school. No damage, but the furious principal had called Sheriff Montgomery.

His father had listened to him, explained why Kincaids didn't do things like that and restricted his activities for a month. It had been right when he had first started dating Marcie. Being away from her that month had been the worst punishment he could have had. He wondered if his dad had known that.

The dispatcher sat at one end of the large room, several desks filling the center and rows of file cabinets lining the other wall. A short hall led to the offices, break room and restrooms. The holding cells were in the basement. On a bench opposite the dispatcher's desk sat three teenagers, two unknown to Zack. The third looked up when he entered and then looked away.

Zack nodded at Sean but headed for the sheriff's office. Tate was on the phone when Zack reached the open door. He stayed in the opening, half listening to the conversation. It obviously concerned one of the other boys and sounded as if Tate was having trouble with the person on the other end.

When he hung up he looked at Zack.

“Here for Sean?”

“Do you work all the time?” Zack asked, entering and sitting on the edge of the large old wooden desk.

“No, I was home. Came in when one of the deputies called. The instigators were sons of some folks visiting. Two of our homegrown boys involved, Sam Tyler and Sean. The kid freaked when I said I was calling his mother. I think he'd rather stay the night in jail than have her come down here. So when he suggested you, I thought, why not?” The sardonic grin Tate gave showed he knew how out of place Zack felt.

“The kid works for me, but I don't really know him.”

“I told you before, he's in trouble a bit, but like this, nothing major. Just underage drinking, which I happen to really frown on. He's not had an easy life, so far as I can tell. Want to sign him out?”

“Can I?”

Tate shrugged. “You're not his guardian or anything, but you're a responsible adult, someone I know. And my guess is you might get more out of him than a crying, frantic, overreacting mother.”

“Get more what?”

“Information. I want to know who's selling alcohol to minors.”

“Code of youth, never tell adults anything.”

“Take him home. See what you find out. I'll let the desk know.” He reached for his phone and by the time Zack returned to the main room, Sean was standing by the door, still avoiding his eyes. The two other teenagers remained on the bench, an insolent glare for Zack.

“See ya, Sean,” one called.

Sean didn't respond.

“Let's go,” Zack said, walking past him and out into the night.

Once the door closed behind them, Zack turned and looked at the kid, feeling strange to be in a parental role. Watching Jenny was one thing. This was entirely different.

“So, what's the story?” he asked.

Sean shrugged. “No biggie. So we had a few beers. Grown-ups drink all the time. What's the harm?”

Zack stared at him, not knowing what to say. He didn't want to shut the kid down, but who was he to give advice?
Lord, I need some guidance here.
The prayer came out of the blue. But as Zack studied Sean, he knew it was heart-felt.
Tell me, Lord, what to say to him. How to make him understand how actions at this age can have an effect for the rest of his life.

“Come over here.” Zack went to one of the benches near the sidewalk. It was pretty in the day, sheltered by the shade of the huge oak tree. At night the streetlights were filtered by the leaves, leaving the bench in semidarkness. It was always easier to talk in the dark, Zack thought.

“First of all, alcohol is not the best drink for someone wanting to race. It can rot your brain, wreak havoc with your reflexes, and if you'd been arrested instead of detained, it would be on your record. If you'd been driving and pulled a DUI you could kiss any idea of racing for a legit team goodbye.”

“Like I have a chance anyway,” Sean mumbled.

Zack leaned back against the bench, gazing into the darkness beyond the street light. “Why's that?”

“I'm stuck in this backwater town, don't have any money or connections. And I have a mother who freaks when I mention racing.”

“It's a dangerous profession,” Zack commented, thinking instantly of Jacques. “Men can get killed.”

“Most don't.”

“True. Tell you what, if I can get something put together, we'll have some driving time at that parking lot Tate was telling me about. But only if you stay clean.”

“Yeah, not much chance of that changing. These guys tonight, they included me because I had some cash—from working at the café. Normally they don't give me the time of day.”

“If you want to learn to race, you need to stay out of trouble, Sean.”

“I know.” The glum sound in Sean's voice made Zack smile.

“My mom's going to kill me,” he continued.

“Well, let's head for home and find out,” Zack said. “My truck's over there. I have to tell you, Marcie's inside.”

“What, I interrupted a date? Man, I'm sorry.”

“No, we're not dating. My niece is there, too. It's getting late for her to still be up. Come on.”

Sean was clearly flustered when entering the truck and taking a jump seat in the back with Jenny. He avoided looking at Marcie, though he did greet her.

“You okay?” Marcie asked.

“Did you get arrested?” Jenny asked, her eyes wide.

“I'm okay and, no, I didn't get arrested.”

“What happened?” Marcie said, turning to look at him.

“He got in with the wrong crowd. We'll drop him at home, then I'll drop you off and get this little girl to bed,” Zack said.

“I like staying up late, Uncle Zack.”

“I'm sure you do. I did, too, when I was little.”

When they reached Sean's neatly kept house a few
blocks from the main street of Rocky Point, Zack got out with Sean and walked him to the front door. The porch light was on and Marcie had a clear view of the chastened young man and Zack walking with him. At one point he put a hand on Sean's shoulder. She bet he squeezed it.

Sean's mother opened the door and for several moments the three of them talked. Marcie could hear the murmur of voices, but not actually what was being said.

“I'm getting tired, Auntie Marcie,” Jenny said. “How much longer?”

“Soon, I think. Your Uncle Zack is talking with Sean's mom.”

“I bet he's in big, big trouble. I would be if the sheriff arrested me.”

“Yes, you surely would.”

Marcie hoped things worked out for Sean. She appreciated his work ethic when on the job. He took extra care and learned quickly. He'd even started to talk to Sarabeth, which seemed to please the older teen.

Zack had been in trouble a time or two as a teenager, and told her about it afterward. His dad had known just the right thing to do to make sure he never repeated the error of his ways. Never busted for the same offense, he liked to brag.

She smiled in memory. Only arrested once for speeding and that was dismissed by the court, but not by his own father. She remembered that restriction—it curtailed their own time together. But he had wild ideas and, at that age, lack of sense. Slowly her smile dimmed. Maybe that was why he'd left as he had. Lack of sense and ability to see a larger picture—such as how it had hurt her, embarrassed her and her father before the entire town.

Now Zack was the wise man in this scenario, giving advice to a teenager, helping to placate the situation.
Thoughtfully she watched as the mother's expression gradually changed from angry to resignation, to hope.

“We should pray for Sean to find his way,” Marcie said softly.

“Me and Daddy always pray for Uncle Zack to find his way. Why do they get lost?”

“Sometimes earthly things interfere with the plans God has for us all.
Lord, we ask You to be with Sean and give him wisdom to know what plans You have for him. He's a good worker, Lord. I thank You for sending him my way. May the job he does bring a blessing on him and others. Comfort his mother and give her wisdom, also, please, as she deals with her son. Thank You, Father, for Your love and guidance, amen.”

“Amen,” Jenny repeated.