Kris Fletcher - Now You See Me

Oh, no. Not that tone. Not the I’m-alone-and-lonely voice.

“A minute.” She turned away from the computer, not certain if she were getting into something better or worse. “What’s up, Ruth?”

“I know you’re planning to send Sara to your sister’s for the summer, but is that carved in stone?”

Lyddie was tired and frustrated, haunted by questions she couldn’t answer and worries she couldn’t share, and all she wanted was to check out a couple more banks and then go to bed. She longed to tell Ruth that whatever it was, it would keep until a better time. But in all honesty, between the coffee shop, Ruth’s job and three kids needing to be carted around town and/or talked around, that “better time” was about twelve years down the road.

It looked as if she were going to have to get it over with.

“Her plane ticket is bought and paid for. Zoë is counting on Sara to help with the boys after she has the baby. So yeah, it’s pretty well definite.”

“I see. It’s just that...” Ruth paused as she walked into the room and sat in the desk chair beside Lyddie’s. “I talked to my sister today. She suggested that I bring the girls along when I go to Florida next month. Ben will be at camp and I thought it would be a nice treat for them.”

Florida in July? Ew. Tish wouldn’t mind the heat, she thrived on it, but Sara had inherited Lyddie’s love of cooler weather. She would wilt in two hours. Besides which—

“Ruth, that’s a wonderful offer, but Sara has her heart set on Vancouver. Zoë has arranged for her to have weekly lessons from someone who plays clarinet in the Vancouver Symphony, and you know Sara and music.”

“Clarinet lessons? I know everyone is making a big deal over her winning that orchestra award in school, but does she think she’s a musical genius now?”

“Actually, I think that being a musical genius is what led to her getting the award.” Lyddie spoke a bit more sharply than she’d intended, but tough.

Ruth shook her head. “I didn’t mean to dismiss her ability. You know I’m as proud of her as you are. But are you going to let one factor dictate her future?”

“Sara’s future is Sara’s concern. She loves music. She wants to make a career out of it.”

“But that’s ridiculous. She has her father’s brain—she could easily do anything she sets her mind to do.”

“And her mind is set on music.” Lyddie raised her hand before Ruth could speak again. “Look, she’s fourteen years old. She could decide next week that she wants to be a politician, or an undertaker or even a physical therapist, like Glenn. But right now she’s set on music and I have the chance to give my child something that could further her dreams. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t do that?”

“A mother who wants to keep her child safe at home.”

In a moment Lyddie’s budding anger drained into understanding. Ruth had Lyddie, the children and her sister in Florida. That was it. The core of her world—her husband and her son—had been ripped from her. Lyddie couldn’t blame her for wanting to hold on as tightly as she could.

But as much as she felt for Ruth, her needs could not override Sara’s.

“Ruth.” Lyddie placed a hand on the older woman’s arm. “I’m going to miss her, too. It won’t be the same without her. But she’s at the age when she needs to spread her wings a little. Florida would be wonderful, and I’m sure she’ll be torn, but this trip to Vancouver is making her happier than she’s been in months. I know you wouldn’t want to take that away from her.”

Ruth sighed and patted Lyddie’s hand. “I suppose not. Just promise me she’ll come home in September.”

“She’ll come home if I have to fly there myself and drag her back by the hair.”

“Good.” She waited, then said, “What about Tish?”

For a moment Lyddie’s own desire to be the one to introduce her child to the wonders of Disney made her hesitate. Then she gave herself a mental slap. Who was being selfish now?

“How long will you be gone?”

“Just over two weeks.”

“At the end of July, right?”

“That’s right. The second half of the month. The dates are marked on the calendar.”

With just the slightest lump in her throat, Lyddie said, “It’s up to her, but I think she’d be delighted to go. Let’s iron out the details tomorrow, okay? It’s been a long day. I’m wiped.”

Ruth looked as though she wanted to say more, but Lyddie turned back to the computer. She bookmarked the pages she needed, shut down the computer then dragged herself up the stairs, wondering who on earth had ever thought that a two-story house was a good idea.

Before she could collapse into her own bed, however, she had one more job to do. Barefoot, she padded down the hall for her nightly peek into the kids’ rooms.

Ben had fallen asleep with the light on, as always. A copy of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos lay on the bed near his outstretched hand.

“Good night, my little brainiac.” Lyddie eased the book from its landing place and set it on the dresser where Ben would be sure to see it as soon as he woke. She smoothed the hair from his forehead and tiptoed to the door, where she paused to look back again.

“Glenn,” she murmured softly, “he’s getting too smart for me, hon. I can’t understand the things he talks about anymore, and he figured out that I’ve been faking for a while now. Could you maybe send him a friend? Preferably one who understands all that physics stuff, so he doesn’t walk around feeling so alone?”

Book safe, light out, she moved to the big room shared by the girls. Tish had kicked off her covers. Lyddie smoothed the blankets over her once again and kissed the sleeping child gently on the forehead. A glance across the room showed Sara curled in a fetal position, slumbering peacefully under the Clarinets RULE poster she’d tacked above her bed.

Ruth was right about one thing. Letting Sara leave, even for the summer, was one of the scariest things Lyddie had ever done. In her heart of hearts she knew that Sara was going to fall in love with Vancouver, with the opportunities, with the sights and sounds and offerings that awaited her.

She was prepared to do anything—go into debt until she was ninety-two, bind herself to a town where she would always be the hero’s widow—to make sure her children had every possible chance to connect with the father they’d lost. But what would she do if Sara didn’t want to come home?

* * *

TWO DAYS AFTER making an ass of himself in River Joe’s, J.T. made his first foray to the post office. Conversation dropped a bit when he walked through the door, but didn’t come to a dead halt the way it had at the coffee shop. He wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

He nodded in the general direction of the room and took his place at the end of the line. He didn’t recognize any of the people ahead of him. Of course, from their surreptitious glances, he saw that they certainly knew who he was.

“Morning,” he said when he caught the woman ahead of him giving him the once-over. She blushed and inched away. It seemed public opinion had indeed taken his measure and found him wanting, even when he was wearing regular street clothes.

It was kind of like back when Pluto was demoted from planetary status. Science and reason were nothing compared to long-standing opinion. He’d had to endure many a tirade from folks who insisted that Pluto was and always would be a planet, simply because that was what they believed.

He never thought he would empathize with a dwarf planet, of all things, but something about being on the receiving end of those glances had him feeling sorry for old Pluto.

The line moved quickly. J.T. stepped up to order his stamps but was stopped by a shriek that echoed through the room.