An opinion?
I looked at Mrs. Stevens curiously. "Yes. Sure."
"I don't want to intrude, but I feel as if I've gotten to know you all fairly well over the last few months. So I guess this is more of an
observation, than an opinion."
"Yes, ma'm," I said.
"I find your entire family extraordinary. Remarkable, really."
"I don't know about remarkable, but I guess we're pretty interesting, alright," I said. "And we're definitely out of the range
of what's ordinary."
"Your brothers are-" she hesitated. "Well, they're such fine men." She smiled a little. "That's not quite what I meant to say,
but I guess it'll do."
I knew my brothers were good guys. Just because I was aggravated at a majority of them, well that didn't mean I didn't recognize that.
"Yeah. They're good guys," I said, in agreement.
"Sometimes, in life, it's so easy to take those we love for granted. Especially if they're around all the time,
irritating us, and just generally being what we think is a nuisance."
I looked at her in surprise, not sure what she was getting at.
"It's hard at times like those to see past the moment." She smiled at me again. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"
I didn't want to be disrespectful, so I just smiled back at her.
"They all adore you," she said quietly, surprising me further.
When she just sat there, and looked at me, in sort of an intent way, I felt compelled to speak up.
"I feel the same about them," I said.
"Just try to remember that, alright?"
"I will," I told her.
She nodded, as if pleased, and stood up, picking up her purse.
"Have a good rest of the afternoon, Harlie. I'll talk to you soon."
After Mrs. Stevens had gone, headed towards the front door, I sat there at the table for a few minutes, thinking. When I got up to start
gathering up my papers and math book, I still hadn't figured out what point she'd been trying to make. Bringing up the subject of my family,
and how good they were, and how much they cared about me? It was kind of weird, in a way. She'd never really strayed into any subject
that was personal before.
I went upstairs to put my stuff away, and then, when I saw the corner of the UPS box sticking out from under my bed, I closed my bedroom door,
and ripped open the box.
Inside there was another cashmere sweater, this one white, and a pale-yellow skirt. The skirt had a design of tiny flowers all over it. I knew just by
looking at it, that it would be extremely short on me. As in, so short that it would never pass brotherly approval.
There was a smaller box inside, too, and when I slipped the top off, there was a gold bracelet inside. It was slender, and
delicate looking. I couldn't resist fastening it around my wrist. It really was beautiful. There was a card inside the box, too.
I pulled it out to read.
'Darling Harlie,
I hope you like these things. I had such fun picking them out for you! I hope that the upcoming week includes us
getting together.
Love,
Aunt Karissa
I carefully folded the sweater and the skirt, putting them back into the box. I knew without a doubt that all three of the things were
very expensive. I knew I shouldn't accept them. And I knew what my brothers would say. I sighed, sitting down on the bed, and running my
fingers over the bracelet on my wrist. I'd never had any jewelry, not really. Other than a couple of necklaces, and the turquoise one that Tony
had given me for my birthday. And my mama's locket, that Adam had given me.
There was a quick tap on the door, and I covered the bracelet with my other hand, to hide it.
"Come in," I said.
Adam opened the door. "Hey," he said.
"Hey."
"I wanted to let you know that Hannah and I are goin' out to supper tonight with Brian and Clare. I think Crane and his girl are goin', too.
So you and Guthrie are gonna be on your own tonight. And Ford too, if he decides to stay home."
"Okay," I said.
He stood there a moment longer, looking as though he were going to say something, but then he didn't. He smiled at me a little. It wasn't a
full-blown smile, but at least it was a smile. In that instant, I made a quick decision.
As he turned to leave, I said, quietly, "Adam?"
"Yeah?" he asked, turning back.
"The package that came yesterday on the UPS truck? It wasn't anything that I ordered, like Brian thought."
"No?" he asked.
"No." I scooted over a little on the bed, so the open box was easier to see. "Karissa sent it."
"Oh." Adam came over closer to the bed. "Clothes?" he asked, looking at the box.
"Yeah. And this." I held my wrist out.
Adam came a step or two nearer, and took my wrist in his hand, turning it so he could see the bracelet.
"Wow," he said, and let my hand loose. I looked up into his face, and his expression seemed to be several things. Startled, and
worried.
I took the bracelet off, and put it back into the small box it had been in, and then looked back up at him.
"Can I sit?" he asked me, pointing to the spot beside me on the bed.
"Yes. Sure," I said.
Adam sat down beside me, and touched the sweater in the box.
"She says she just likes giving presents," I volunteered.
"Hmmm."
"I think she has a lot of money," I said then.
"Does she?"
"It seems like it. She wears nice clothes, and Guthrie said her car is really expensive."
"I don't know much about female clothes, but that bracelet's expensive," he said.
"Yeah," I agreed. "The clothes are, too. The sweater is cashmere."
"Cashmere, huh?"
I nodded.
"I really have no idea what that is," he admitted, and I gave him a small smile.
"It's one of the best materials there is," I told him. "Made of wool."
"Oh."
We sat there in silence for a long few moments.
"I wanted to tell you about her sending it," I said. "I wanted to be truthful."
"I'm glad you told me," he said, and then he reached over to take my hand in his, rubbing his thumb back and forth over
my fingers.
It was one of those really powerful moments, the kind that don't come along too often, and when they do, they make you
'sit up and take notice', as the saying goes. It was Adam's way, I knew, of letting me feel his approval. And also his way of trying to
smooth over the upset between us.
"I should return them, right?" I asked.
"I think so, yeah. Definitely the bracelet."
"How can I, though? If you don't want me to see her?"
Adam was quiet for a minute, looking thoughtful, and then he said, "For right now, just leave it all in the box, and I'll do some thinking."
I wondered what he meant by that. That he would 'do some thinking'. I didn't ask, though. Probably he meant we would just repackage everything,
and mail it back. Except we didn't have her address. Oh, well. I brushed those thoughts aside.
"Okay," I said, and then I added, "I can't really return the first sweater. I've worn it. And it got a little wet."
"From the capsized canoe?" he asked, and I nodded.
"Okay," he said.
Another moment of silence, with Adam still rubbing his thumb gently over my hand.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," I said, into the silence. "For thinking you didn't trust me to be
in the house alone. And for getting all snarky with you about it."
"I accept your apology," Adam said, and gave me another half-smile.
He stood up then, and went to the door. "You know what? I'll bet Ford and Evan would love to look at all those picture albums
of Mom."
"You think so?"
"I'd bet on it," he said.
7
That evening turned out to be fun. Evan and Nancy stayed home, and so Guthrie and I, along with Ford, hung out with them in the
living room. I carted the photo albums downstairs, and we all spent a couple of hours poring over them. When she first saw a picture
of a teenage girl, smiling into the camera, Nancy said, "Is this your mother?"
Evan gave a quick look. "Yeah."
Nancy looked up at me. "It's amazing. You look exactly like her," she told me.
"Thanks," I said, feeling a warmth inside at her words. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one," she told me, and I smiled at her.
Nancy and I made 'Dagwoods' for supper, each sandwich taller than the others, and the boys argued good-naturedly over
who could eat the biggest one.
We took turns holding Isaac, all evening, and then Nancy and I got him ready for bed, and she carried him upstairs.
Afterwards, we all played a game of Uno. I went to bed before all the others, and I fell asleep quickly. That night, I dreamed
for the first time in a long time about Doc G. In my dream, he was standing on a tall hill, looking off into the distance. Then he turned
towards me, and smiled. "There's mysteries beyond those hills, Harlie Mac," he said. "Not all of them can be answered."
And, then, he was gone. End of dream.
I woke up, frustrated at the dream, and wishing it had been a longer one. I'd gotten where I liked it when I dreamed about
Doc G.
I got dressed for school, and went downstairs. Captain Jack's cage was sitting on the end table by the couch, and he was busy
scolding and squawking. Ford must be getting ready to leave to go back to college.
When I went into the kitchen, I could hear Guthrie and Ford outside the back door, roughhousing with all the dogs. The smell of
bacon was in the air, and Brian was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes.
I hesitated, and then went up behind him, and wrapped my arms around his waist from the back.
I squeezed his middle, and then stood still for a moment, my cheek pressed against his back.
"Morning," he said.
"Good morning," I answered, and stepped back as he turned around to face me.
"I rate a hug this morning?" he asked, and I felt my face turn a little warm.
"Sorry about the weekend," I said, lumping it all together.
He looked at me somberly, and then said, "Just pull it together. That's all I want from you."
"Okay."
He nodded, and smiled. "Coffee's on," he said, and turned back to his pancake flipping.
7
At school, before the first bell rang, Lori found me in the hallway.
"I got caught Friday night," she said. "Did I get you into a lot of trouble?"
"Grounded," I said.
"I'm sorry. I felt bad all weekend about it, but my mom went crazy when she caught me coming in, all wet and everything. She threatened
to call my dad if I didn't tell her what happened."
"It's okay," I told her. "I'm not blaming you."
That afternoon when Guthrie and I got home from school, I did my outside chores, and then I went to ask Adam if I could go for
a ride on Charlie before supper.
"Yeah. Go on," he said, and then, as I was headed to get Charlie's bridle, he called me back over to where he was greasing the tractor.
"Come here for a minute," he said.
When I was standing back beside him, he looked seriously at me. "Did Margaret come by after school today to see you?"
I couldn't get used to hearing Karissa called Margaret like that.
"No," I said. I looked at him curiously. "Why?"
"I just wondered," he said, but I thought he sounded funny. Strange. Evasive.
"She called on Saturday," I said. "Evan answered, and he told her I couldn't come to the phone."
"Uh huh." He looked at me a moment longer, and then said, "Go on. Have a good ride."
"Okay," I said.
I got out in the pasture, and I gave Charlie his head. Old he may be, but he could still run like the wind. I felt so much better
after my ride. I spent another thirty minutes rubbing Charlie down, and curry combing him. I was deep in my thoughts while I worked, thinking
about Karissa, and how I felt about the whole situation.
I was happy to have all those photo albums, and happy to have learned more about my mom. I would, in the perfect outcome, have liked
it if Karissa had been able to join into our family, visiting sometimes, and coming at holidays.
It didn't look as though that was going to happen, though. I was so involved in my own thoughts that I jumped, startled, when
Evan tapped me on the shoulder.
"Oh my gosh! You scared me!" I accused him. "Why are you sneaking up behind me like that?"
"I wasn't sneaking up on you. You were in another world someplace."
As I kept on brushing Charlie, Evan said, "You're grounded all this week, right?"
"Yeah. And next week," I said, and looked at him curiously. "Why?" I was hoping he was going to ask me to ride with him
over to Irene Sampell's house. I thought that Adam might let me do that.
"Because. I've got somethin' for you to do. In the evenings, or on Saturdays," he said.
"What?"
"I want you to clean and polish all the tack."
"You want me to help you?" I asked him, puzzled.
"No. Not help me. I want you to do it."
I stared at Evan, incredulously. "Why would I want to do that?"
"I didn't say you'd wanna do it. Just that I want you to."
I stopped brushing Charlie, and let my hands drop to my sides. "How come?" I asked.
"Because you went to that party," he said, his voice flat.
"I thought we talked all that out, Saturday, on the porch," I said, confused.
"We talked. But I want you to do the tack," he said, sounding adamant.
For those that are not familiar with horses, and all the tack that they use, it involves a lot of work to clean and polish it. Especially with the
amount that we have. Hours. And hours.
I was still staring at Evan, almost unbelieving. "Why?" I persisted.
"Because. You broke your promise to me."
"I explained that to you. It wasn't the same at all-"
"I heard all your reasons for it not bein' the same. No dice. You broke a promise that we made between us. Do the tack."
I could feel my frustration rising, and my temper following close behind.
"That's a big job," I protested. "Especially for one person."
He shrugged, silent.
"I don't think that's really fair, Ev," I said, trying to keep my voice low, and convincing.
He shrugged again. "Oh, well," he said, in dismissal of my protest.
For the next few moments, we looked straight at each other, head on. I was debating on whether to argue, or try to defy him.
"If I don't want to do it, then what?" I asked him, still keeping my voice quiet.
He was quiet, and I said, with an accusing tone to my voice, "You'll tell Adam. And Brian. About that night at Hell's Bend, right?"
"I don't know about that," he said. "But if you don't do it, then I'll know your word doesn't mean much. I won't have much respect for
you. And, I don't think we'd be the same, you and me."
"You mean things between us?" I asked him, feeling suddenly horrified at the thought.
"Yeah."
"We'd go back to the way we used to be?" I asked, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Evan and I used to argue and fuss a lot. I'd pick at him,
and he'd yell. We'd never been close. But the last year or so, we had changed things around. We had fun together, and I could count on him
to be in my corner for most things. And we could talk. About important stuff.
In a matter of seconds, all of those thoughts and feelings passed thru my mind.
"Maybe," Evan said, sounding sad. "Cause if you don't do this, I'll know that you don't care enough to honor what we've got
between us."
I swallowed hard, and brushed at the embarrassing tears on my cheeks. I didn't want him to see me crying.
"Okay," I said. "I'll do the tack."
"Okay." He hesitated, looking at me. "Hannah says come in and wash up for supper."
"I'll be in in a second," I said, and when he'd gone, I put stuff away, trying to get control of my emotions.
7
