Karen Young - In Confidence

“It’ll be rocky at first, sure. But they’re tough, Rachel, and your relationship with them is great. Plus, you’re strong, and you’ll need that strength now. You’ll come through this well, whether your marriage survives or not. As for the kids, there’ll be as much moral support from their friends as otherwise. Even more. For the others—” she finished her drink and stood up “—when shitty people speak, just consider the source. The worst thing is, it’s all Ted’s doing and he’ll be distanced from a lot of the fallout living at the lake, the rat. Not fair, but that’s the way real life works.” She grabbed her keys, leaned over and gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek. “Call me if you need me.”

Cam seldom took a break for lunch as it tended to break his concentration, but he’d been interrupted this morning by a call from his agent, Ben Eckstein, who was hot to start negotiations for a new contract. Nothing distracted Cam like contract negotiations. So, after firmly quelling Ben’s enthusiasm—and failing to pick up after Ben had interrupted—he remembered he hadn’t eaten the night before, so he wandered into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He was standing on his back porch eating it when he saw the kid leave Dinah Hunt’s patio and start across the lawn.

The boy was lean and lanky, in his mid-teens, Cam guessed, feeling a catch in his chest. Looked athletic, too, moving with an easy gait in spite of the fact that he hadn’t yet grown into those long limbs and big hands and feet. A lot like Jack. And just about Jack’s age when—

Dark memories instantly killed his appetite and he tossed the sandwich, food for the squirrels. Standing motionless, he watched the kid step around Dinah’s newly planted herb garden, then move through the thick growth of azaleas that separated the boundaries of her property and his own. Her grandson, Rachel’s boy? No sign of a car in the driveway, so apparently it took more for Rachel to find a moment for visiting her mother than a brief collapse in the garden.

As the kid drew closer, he tried to come up with a name. Dinah had mentioned it. Nick. Yeah, Nick. And no mistake about it, he thought with a scowl, the kid was heading straight for his porch.

“’Scuse me, sir.” He stood looking at Cam, hesitant and polite. But determined.

Shit. It was too late to turn on his heel and go inside. “Nick, right?”

“Yes, sir.” The boy ventured closer, stopped at the bottom step. Dark hair like his mother’s and those same odd gold eyes, Cam noted. “Dinah Hunt is my grandmother.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Nick glanced down at his feet, as if to gather his thoughts. Or courage. Then he looked back up at Cam. “My mom told me how you happened to see Gran when she fainted yesterday and that you took her to the hospital. I just wanted to come over and thank you for doing that.”

“No need.” Cam took a couple of steps down to bring himself more in line with the boy. While inside, the memory of Jack was as heavy as lead, only a robot would be unmoved by the appeal in the boy’s face. “It was sheer luck that I happened to be out when it happened. You would have done the same. Anyone would.”

“Maybe. But I just wanted to, you know, say thanks. I mean, I know my mom was grateful. And Gran, too, of course.” Fiddling with a smooth stone he’d picked up, he gazed at his grandmother’s house a moment before turning back to Cam. “And I need to ask you a favor.”

Ah, Jesus, what now? Warily, Cam braced himself. He was promising nothing. “A favor?”

“Yes, sir.” Nick tossed the stone. “My mom…she’s got a lot of things on her mind lately. She’s a guidance counselor at RHHS. I don’t know if you knew that, but—”

“I knew.”

“Well, a lot of kids sort of rely on her when they get in trouble or have personal problems and stuff.” He shrugged. “Not that she complains. She says it comes with the territory, but it can get so that she doesn’t have a lot of time left over for—”

“For her mother?”

He gave Cam a startled look. “No, sir. Well, not exactly. Gran’s pretty independent about that. Doesn’t want any advice most of the time.” He hesitated, then went on. “What I mean about my mom is she doesn’t have much time left over for anyone, not even herself. And if she did, she wouldn’t do much for herself, anyway. She’d be thinking of Kendy or me or…or Dad. Gran, too.” He paused, watching a squirrel eyeing the tossed sandwich. “And my dad, he’s…ah, kind of…I guess you could say…preoccupied right now.”

“Preoccupied.”

“It’s a long story.” Nick shifted so that he faced Cam squarely. “Anyway, Mom’s going to be really maxed out for some time because of this, uh, personal stuff that’s come up.” He paused and then went on in a rush, “And so the favor I had in mind was this. If you could just sort of keep an eye on Gran when Mom isn’t around—or me—it would mean a lot.”

“Does your Gran know about this?”

“You mean that I’m asking you to keep an eye on her? Jeez, no! She’d kill me. She’d come after me with my own bat. Mom, too. Anyway, Gran doesn’t think she needs any help, but where would she have been yesterday if you hadn’t just lucked out and happened to see her faint?”

She would have come around in a few minutes and fixed herself something to eat, Cam thought. And it would have taught her a lesson. But then again, if it had been the heart attack he’d feared at the time, then this boy’s concern was well placed. “It isn’t necessary to ask me to keep an eye on your grandmother, Nick,” he said. “After what happened, I was planning on it. Within reason. But just so you’ll know, I’m a writer and I often get caught up in what I’m doing and lose track of time. You can’t depend on me exclusively.”

“Yes, sir, I understand that. I’ll be checking on her myself. A lot.”

They both watched the squirrel scamper across the ground and up into a tree, carrying a piece of Cam’s sandwich. “Speaking of bats,” Cam said, “do you play sports?”

“Yes, sir, baseball.” He propped a foot on the bottom step. “I started with T-ball when I was six and I’ve been playing ever since.”

“What’s your position?”

“First base. For the B team, right now. I mean, I’m in the ninth grade and I won’t have a shot at varsity till next year. Maybe not even then, but by eleventh I should be in.” At ease now, Nick slid his hands into his hip pockets, comfortable talking about a subject he knew well. “Now, my buddy, Ward—Ward Rivers—he’s real good. He’s a pitcher. He might even get a shot at varsity this year, he’s so good. His brother Jimbo’s five years older and he got a scholarship to play for UT.”

He knew him. Jimbo Rivers had been a pallbearer at Jack’s funeral. “I’ve heard of him,” Cam said.

“Well, Coach told us he’ll probably be tapped by one of the majors at the end of this season. Is that cool or what?”

Yeah, cool. Cam clenched his jaw hard. His chest actually hurt, deep down where he kept a lock on everything that made him think of Jack. “The coach would be Monk Tyson,” he said.

“Yes, sir. You know him?”

“We’ve met.”

Nick nodded. “He’s put a lot of athletes into the majors. I mean, they play college sports and then move right on up to the big leagues.”

“Remarkable for a small town like Rose Hill,” Cam said.

“That’s what everybody says. Well…I need to get back. I didn’t tell Gran where I was headed and she’ll be breakin’ out the blueberry muffins any minute now.” He flashed a quick grin. “She likes to push food at me when I come and I’m sure not complaining. You should try her pecan pie. Man, it’s to die for!” He hesitated, then stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Ford.”