Nancy Pickard - The Scent of Rain and Lightning

“Go?” Annabelle said, not understanding at first. Then she blinked at the speed of the escalation from a weekend to three days. “To the Broadmoor?”

“Maybe I’ll take a friend if Hugh-Jay won’t go.”

“A friend?” Annabelle felt queasy. She wondered if she had just made things worse. What she wanted to say at that moment, but could not possibly say out loud, was, The fact that you’re not taking Hugh-Jay does not mean you get to take somebody else, or meet them there.

Annabelle felt sick at having even worse thoughts.

Who was that on the phone, was that her “friend?”

Of course Laurie meant a girlfriend, of course she did, but if Chase suddenly came up with an excuse to visit the ranch in Colorado on the very weekend that Laurie was gone, she would send him off on errands a thousand miles in the opposite direction. She was also going to suggest to his father that a horse-whipping might be in order.

Laurie wasn’t finished asking for things.

“Could you take Jody back to the ranch with you tonight? She’d love to spend the night, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

The child, made joyful by the warmth in her mother’s voice and by the suggestion to go to her favorite place, flung her arms around her grandmother’s neck and whispered, “Please.” She adored her grandparents and delighted in the ranch, where there were uncles to take her for horsey rides and there was endless space in which to run around and play.

When Annabelle said yes, it was only to that request.

Laurie didn’t seem to notice the distinction, and as grandmother and granddaughter were leaving, she prattled about the massages and facials she was going to get and the clothes she was going to need. “I think I’ve heard of the Broadmoor! It’s really famous and really nice.”

She appeared to consider it settled, with no requirement to say thank you.

Beaming, the beautiful young mother escorted them rapidly to the front door and closed it as soon as they were standing on the front porch. Annabelle felt as if they’d been put out unceremoniously, like the trash. “Well,” she said, looking down at the child whose hand she held, “let’s go start supper. While I slice the meat loaf, you can check on the new kitties in the barn.”

“New kitties!” Jody jumped up and down with glee.

Annabelle noticed that the child didn’t look back for her mother.

AN HOUR LATER, on her way out of Rose with Jody in the backseat, Annabelle jumped when a horn honked behind her. She looked in her rearview mirror and saw it was Hugh-Jay. “Look, Jody, it’s your daddy.” She pulled over to the nearest curb and parked, and he did the same behind her. Had he already heard about the trip? she wondered, feeling guilty that her good-if interfering-intentions had gone awry, leaving him out.

But when he appeared at her car window, he just smiled and said, “Hi, Mom.” Then he reached in a long arm so he could gently squeeze his daughter’s left knee. “Hey, pumpkin.”

Jody giggled at his touch. “We’re going to the ranch, Daddy.”

“Well, don’t ride any cows, okay?”

“Daddy, you don’t ride cows!”

He laughed and withdrew his arm. “That’s right. Good thing you reminded me.” He smiled at his mother. “I saw the Caddy, and I wanted to say ’bye before I leave for Colorado.”

“Is everything… taken care of, with Billy… at the ranch?”

He answered in similar code to avoid scaring the little girl in the backseat. “All taken care of. Taken away. No trouble at all.”

“That’s good.” She looked into his big, kind, unhandsome face. “Hugh-Jay?”

Teasingly, because of her suddenly serious tone, he said, “Mom?”

“Speaking of Colorado, I may have done a bad thing,” she confessed.

“Impossible,” he said with a grin.

“Well, wait until I tell you before you judge. I offered a little vacation to Laurie, for the two of you, but it seems to have turned into a spa trip for just her.” Wishing to lessen the blow, she gilded Laurie’s excuse, to make it sound more tactful. “Laurie felt you might not want to leave the ranch, with so much work to do.”

She saw a frown appear between his eyes before he erased it.

“She’s probably right. That’s fine. It’ll be good for her.”

“It would be good for you, too.”

“Do I look like a spa kind of guy?”

She smiled. “Hugh-Jay?”

Again he teased her, though not quite as lightheartedly. “Yes, Mom?”

“Don’t ever let anybody tell you that happiness has to be earned.”

His expression turned quizzical and more genuinely amused. She was infamous among her offspring for offering bits of impromptu wisdom to them.

“Okay,” he said agreeably. “I won’t.”

He chuckled, but for some reason, she couldn’t work up another answering smile. She felt her eyes start to fill, and blinked it back. “What I mean to say,” she said, “is that if happiness had to be earned, then out of all of my children, you would be the happiest.” She paused, then plunged in, and said softly so that little ears couldn’t overhear, “But you’re not, are you?”

“Mom,” he said, his voice gentle.

Because he was right there in her window, she placed her left palm against his right cheek, feeling the stubble of the whiskers of her most-grown son. They were so blond they were nearly invisible. She looked at him as if memorizing him. After her first weeks of being a novice at mothering, he had been such an easy child. So simple to manage. Easy to please. As he grew up, a piece of chocolate cake made him happy, any sitcom could make him laugh, Christmas absolutely delighted him. He was never grouchy in the mornings, and now he had his own baby daughter and he thought the sun rose and never set in her.

Annabelle leaned forward and kissed his broad sweaty forehead.

“Mom!” He laughed a protest. “I’m filthy.”

“Smelly, too.”

“You look dirty, Daddy!”

He grinned into the backseat. “I am, pumpkin. Daddy needs a bath.”

Annabelle thought about her daughter-in-law taking a long, leisurely bath and thought about telling him to hurry home. Instead, afraid of interfering again, she just smiled, though her eyes were threatening to fill again. “Well, I never claim that you’re my perfect son, just that you’re my good one.”

He leaned into her palm a little, then straightened his head again.

“Not all that good. But I’m fine, Mom.”

“Really?”

“Really. Don’t worry about us.”

“Your mother loves you,” she said, her tone lighter than her feelings.

He squeezed her hand, gently released it, and stood up. He smiled one last time into the backseat, blew his daughter a kiss, and walked back to his truck with a wave. Later, Annabelle would feel those moments were the greatest gift God ever gave her: a last chance to see her firstborn up close, to hold his face in the palm of her hand, to kiss him, to tell him she loved him one last time.

He drove his truck around her car, turned right at the corner, in the direction opposite his home, and was gone.

ABOUT THE SAME TIME Annabelle pulled the Caddy into the barn, with Jody slumped over asleep in her car seat, Hugh Senior led his lame horse back into the vet’s stable, where a goat, a llama, and another horse were already in residence. As he led the limping mare into a stall, the goat baaed. The treatment of the horse was overseen by the doctor who had diagnosed an infection requiring some surgical cleaning.

“She’s got a fever, Hugh. We’ll operate tomorrow.”

“How serious?”

“Not very, at least not yet, but if you’d waited a few days-”

“I should learn to trust my son’s instincts about animals more than my own. Hugh-Jay knew to bring her in now. I hope he has better instincts about people than I do, too, and not just about horses.” His initial confidence about the rightness of his actions in regard to Billy Crosby had ebbed on the drive from the ranch. Uncharacteristically, he was second-guessing his decisions and feeling worried about whether he had done the right things all the way along the line with the young man he’d sent off to jail.