Pamela Bauer - That Summer Thing

The girls were Beth’s nieces—Kayla, who was eight, Allison, five, and little Cierra, who was three. “They’re the real reason I’m here. It’ll be good to spend some time with them.”

Grace grinned. “They love being with you, but I have to warn you. They’ll run you ragged if you let them. No reason you can’t lie around and do nothing if that’s what you want.”

Beth had never been very good at doing nothing, which was why she said, “Ed mentioned that Dr. Julian Bennett might be looking for someone to help out at his clinic.”

“Are you thinking about working while you’re here?” Grace asked.

Beth shrugged. “It would only be part-time.”

Just then her brother walked in through the back door. “Hey! I thought I recognized that car out front.” He spread his arms to welcome his sister, who jumped up to give him a hug. “It’s good to see you, sis. You look great.” He pushed her back at arm’s length and let his eyes take her in.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she told him, returning his gaze with the same affection. “I see you cut your hair.” Ever since she could remember, his dark, wavy hair had reached the edge of his collar.

He rubbed a hand over his closely cropped brown hair. “Thought I should start looking like a thirty-five-year-old attorney instead of an aging rebel,” he said. “Besides, it’s easier this way.”

“I like it,” she stated sincerely.

“Has Grace been bringing you up-to-date with what’s been going on around here?” he asked, giving his wife an affectionate nuzzle on the neck as she stood next to the stove stirring a pot.

Grace replaced the lid on the pan and said, “I’ll let you do that, Ed. I’m going to set the dining-room table and get the kids washed up for dinner.”

“Let me help.” Beth started to rise to her feet, but Grace put a hand on her shoulder.

“You sit and visit with your brother,” she ordered, then grabbed a stack of plates and disappeared into the other room.

“So what’s wrong?” Ed asked as soon as they were alone.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Beth denied indignantly as he sat down across from her. “Have you forgotten that you invited me to come spend the summer with you?” She spread her arms. “So here I am.”

“It’s mid-July.”

“All right, so I missed the first part of summer.”

He smiled slyly. “You cost me a hundred bucks.”

“How’s that?”

“I bet Grace you wouldn’t come at all.”

Beth chuckled. “No wonder she was so happy to see me.”

“I’m happy to see you, too. You haven’t exactly been a regular visitor to Riverbend,” he reminded her.

“I have a very demanding job,” she said, then immediately added, “Or I should say I had a very demanding job.”

“Does that mean you’re still unemployed?”

She could see concern in her brother’s eyes and it touched her. Even though they were separated by distance, they had remained close over the years, and she had confided in him often about the difficulties she’d had getting along with the athletic director at the college for the past year. Ed had been a rock of support when she’d made the decision to quit her job, and he understood her anxiety about her uncertain future.

“Yes. I told them in the spring I wasn’t going to renew my contract,” she said, not wanting to rehash the betrayal she’d felt on not only a professional but a personal level. As an athletic trainer she had always put the well-being and safety of her students first. To have someone question her judgment, then overrule her decision to keep a player out of a game was a breach of professional conduct she couldn’t tolerate.

“I’m glad to hear that. I was worried they might have coerced you into returning to your position.”

She shook her head. “That won’t happen. I think it’s probably a good time for me to take a break from working in college athletics, anyway. I plan to do some clinical work.”

“I bet Julian Bennett would find a permanent spot for you if you asked him.”

“My home is in Iowa,” she reminded him gently.

He smiled. “I know, but you can’t blame a brother for trying.”

Their conversation was halted as Grace announced it was time to eat. Dinner turned out to be a bit chaotic as the five little girls chattered and giggled their way through spaghetti and meatballs. By the time it was over, Beth was convinced that her sister-in-law had her hands full and didn’t need to worry about another houseguest, even if that guest was family.

She brought up the subject as she and Grace finished cleaning the kitchen. “I think I should check into a motel—just for the weekend.”

“You will not,” Grace stated emphatically.

“She will not what?” Ed asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Beth wants to go to a motel for the weekend.”

“You already have a full house,” Beth told her brother. “You don’t need me.”

“Yeah, we do. To help clean up,” Ed teased.

“I can do that without putting someone out of a bed,” Beth said.

“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” Ed returned.

“Yes.” She set her dish towel aside. “You’re not going to be offended if I go to a motel, are you?”

“No,” her brother replied slowly, “but it doesn’t make any sense to pay for a room when you have a place of your own at your disposal.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“The Queen Mary. Thanks to Abraham Steele, it’s half yours.”

Beth shook her head. “Oh, no. I couldn’t sleep there.”

“Why not?”

“You need to ask?”

He gave her a look of disbelief. “Because of Charlie?”

She hated the way her stomach muscles tensed at the mention of her ex-husband. For fifteen years she’d been able to pretend that Charlie Callahan didn’t exist. But now, thanks to one legal document, the window to that corner of her memory was reopened. A beneficiary of Abraham Steele’s last will and testament, Beth was now in the uncomfortable position of being in a partnership with a man she hadn’t expected to ever see again.

“I told you I wanted to sell my half to him,” she said as calmly as possible.

“Yes, but right now that half belongs to you and you have a right to use it. Besides, Charlie’s not even going to be in Riverbend this weekend. I talked to him yesterday and he told me he was going out of town. Some builders trade show in Indianapolis.”

She chewed on her lower lip. Using the houseboat would solve the problem of where she was going to sleep tonight. And it would be nice to have a quiet room all to herself where she wouldn’t feel she was inconveniencing anyone.

“Why are you hesitating? You have every legal right to use the boat, Beth,” Ed assured her.

This wasn’t about her rights. It was about memories. Ever since she’d learned she’d inherited the houseboat, unwelcome images had begun creeping into her consciousness. Too much had happened on that houseboat, things best forgotten.

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea, that’s all,” she told him. “I can go to a motel.”

“Trust me, Beth. The Queen Mary is nicer than any motel around here. Abraham completely remodeled it before he died.”

Which meant she might not even recognize the place. Maybe she could stay on the boat and not be plagued with memories of the past. “Don’t I need a key or something?”

“I have one.” Ed disappeared, only to return a few minutes later carrying a small key ring and a black leather-bound folder. “You’ll need this, too.”

“What is it?” she asked as he handed her the folder.

“All the information you’ll need to use the boat. I’ve already looked at it and it’s pretty self-explanatory. Basic stuff about the water and electricity. There are diagrams in there, as well.”