“That’s a good idea.”
“You’d do that? With me?” she asked him.
“Sure. When we’re ready. There’s plenty of time. Make sure it’s what you want. Make sure I’m what you want.”
She put her fingers on his lips. “Matt, I never thought I’d have a man like you in my life.” She smiled weakly. “I sure didn’t think so at Peyton’s wedding when you went for my boob.”
“Ah, a defining moment. Impressive, wasn’t I?”
“Drunk and clumsy,” she said.
“Yeah, but I’m persistent. I’m with you now. What do you want to do, sweetheart? Stay here awhile? Go to my place and rest a little bit?”
“I just want to go home,” she said. “I need to go back to my life. Will I see you this weekend?”
“I’m taking you home, honey.”
“You’re following me?”
“No. Driving you. You follow me to U-Haul. It’s not far. I’m going to rent a half trailer, hook your car up and tow you. We’ll ride together. We can hold hands and talk. Or not talk, if you’re feeling quiet. You can sleep a little—grieving wears a person out. We’ll stop for a good meal because I bet you didn’t eat...”
“Al’s going to be jealous. He wanted to drive me.”
“He needs to watch it,” Matt said teasingly. “This is my territory now.”
“It is, isn’t it? I should mind being called territory, but I don’t. You’ll be missed on the farm...”
“No, it’s all good. No one’s expecting me, but I’ll make a call, let Mama know I’m busy. She’ll tell Paco and George.”
“Do they know about me? That I’m damaged? That my baby died and I’m so damaged?”
“I haven’t told them the particulars, just that you needed me today. You can tell them someday if you feel like it.” He stood up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “You ready or do you want more time here?”
“I’m ready,” she said.
Matt hated to put her in the car to drive even a short distance. Ginger never mentioned him, not even once, but Matt thought about him—that loser, Mick. He probably changed his name to Mick to be like Jagger. He should have been with her when that baby died. And even though Matt didn’t want him anywhere near her ever again, he should be here now, propping her up, supporting her. He should cry that his son died.
Matt hated him.
* * *
Ginger did sleep a little on the way back to Thunder Point. They stopped just outside Eugene at a homey little country restaurant that also sold hams and pies. Ginger had a bowl of soup with crackers and half a sandwich while Matt, no doubt concerned about getting enough to eat when they got back to that little loft, indulged in a large meat loaf and potato dinner. She called her parents, explaining she’d been to the cemetery and her suspicions were right—they’d made a visit early that morning and left a bouquet. She had planned to visit Josh’s grave alone, spend a couple of hours and leave, not feeling like seeing people.
Then she explained Matt being there, taking her back home. “I didn’t tell him I’d be there and if he’d asked to come with me I would’ve said I wanted to be alone,” she said to her mother. “But I’m so glad he was there. And it turned out to be the right thing for me.”
Then she slept a little more. He unhooked the tow bar and parked her car behind the flower shop while she went upstairs. Once she was in her secure little loft apartment, she called Ray Anne and asked her to relay to Al that she was fine.
“I went to the cemetery today to put flowers on his little grave, and Matt came. He guessed I might be there. He brought his own flowers. It was so lovely that he’d do that without being asked, without being needed.”
“Oh, baby,” Ray Anne singsonged. “And now? Feeling all right?”
“Feeling a little wrung out, honestly. But I’ll sleep tonight and tomorrow I’ll be so happy to get back to my flowers and friends.” Unbelievably, that was the truth. She needed that pilgrimage to Portland. She wished there was more by way of closure, but that was as good as it was going to get. She was beginning to understand that there was nothing she could do, no ritual that could make the feelings go away. The sadness would just have to leave her with time as replaced by new feelings. Remembering him, his sweet little face, that belonged to her.
Matt said he had no instincts where women were concerned, but she was amazed by them. He seemed to give her plenty of space while staying near. At about eight that night he went out for ice cream, which they ate in bed, then they talked a little while about ordinary things—she wanted to know about the grapes and pears. He wanted to know about her flowers and Grace’s mother. He told her they’d be breeding sheep at George’s in the late fall. He was slated to teach a few classes as a visiting professor in the fall after the harvest. She was looking forward to the harvest celebrations and food.
At the first light of dawn Ginger woke to the gentle stroke of Matt’s rough hand on her upper arm. She turned to him and smiled.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Okay. You?”
He just nodded. “If you think you’ll be all right, I should get back to the farm.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
“I’m glad I was there.”
“I meant, thank you for going to his grave even though I might not have been there. He wasn’t part of your life. That was one of the nicest things anyone has done for me.”
“You’re part of my life,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”
He pulled on his clothes and slid out the door quietly.
Fourteen
Lin Su got into the car to go to Winnie’s house. Her son was already in the passenger seat, his backpack in the back. “I brought you a clean shirt,” she told Charlie. “After you knock around the beach and town all day, we’re having dinner with Winnie and her family because I’m taking a turn at cooking. They’d like you to come, too.”
“You don’t usually cook,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
“You’re right, I don’t. But this is a very unusual job. I’m the nursing help but the whole family is around. Usually when I’m the nursing help, it’s just me and the patient with maybe one or two other relatives checking in.”
“And then when I came with you, I could just watch TV,” he said.
True enough, she thought. Her patient would usually be in the bedroom and as long as Charlie didn’t mess up the house, kept the volume very low and didn’t eat their food, he could tag along and no one knew the difference.
“Troy said you can watch the TV in their game room downstairs as long as you don’t mess up the house. You can use your computer just about anywhere, upstairs or down—you can jump on their Wi-Fi. Not too much computer or TV, though. We have to stay out of the way of these people or I’ll lose my job.”
Actually, Troy had not been specific about the messy house or about the amount of time Charlie spent watching TV. He had said Charlie was welcome in the house whenever he wanted or needed to be.
“I’m an expert at staying out of the way...”
“And do I have to tell you how bad it would be if I lost my job?”
“No,” he said. “I think I get it.” His tone was sarcastic as they’d been over this a thousand times.
She went over it once more. Money was tight. Very tight. A nurse didn’t earn enough to support a family. A single parent had a lot of trouble making ends meet. She never said it aloud but the truth was, they lived on the edge of poverty in an old rented trailer in a crappy mobile-home park. She hated leaving Charlie at home; their neighborhood was rough. Having him around Thunder Point so she could check on him now and then was much better.
“So, there’s a clean shirt. You can wash up and put on a clean shirt for dinner. Be sure to wipe up the bathroom behind yourself...”
“Why are you cooking?” he asked.
“I offered. Everyone was choosing a night to cook, even Mikhail, the old Russian. God knows what that will be
...”
“Maybe borscht,” he offered.
Lin Su laughed. He was so funny sometimes. She looked over at him. So small, so nerdy. So adorable.
“What are you doing today? Any plans?”
He shrugged. “I’ll be busy on and off. Troy and Spencer don’t mind having me around. Troy said he might put me to work. When it’s not busy in Cooper’s it’s okay if I get a table inside and use my laptop. I get out of there if a lot of people come in. And if I’m charged up, I can always use it in the car. Don’t worry, okay? No one knows how to stay out of the way like me.”
Her vision blurred slightly. “Charlie...”
“Don’t get emotional, okay? Because we’re fine. Everything is temporary.”
“Not too temporary, I hope. Mrs. Banks is holding her own and with any luck she’ll be with us a good long while. It’s a nice place to work. You have money?”
“Never used the money you gave me two days ago.”
“How’d you buy lunch?”
“Didn’t have to,” he said. “I was hanging out at the dock and Troy made us sandwiches. I told him I had money for lunch and he said it wasn’t necessary.”
“I could have made you lunch,” she said. “I could have made something while I was fixing Mrs. Banks’s lunch. Or while she napped.”
Charlie sighed. “He made it in the same kitchen, Mom. We’re good.”
“Did you ask what was in it?”
“I checked, Mom. It wasn’t peanut butter or anything like that. You have to relax.”
She took a breath. “You have your inhaler? EpiPen? Sunscreen? Vitamins? Power bars and fruit drinks?”
He glanced at her. He pushed his glasses up on his nose again.
“Yeah, I guess you have everything,” she said.
“I think Troy or Landon might take me out on the paddleboard today.”
“Oh, Charlie...”
“It’s okay so don’t freak. I’m not falling in or anything.”
She appreciated that he wasn’t paranoid about his fragile health but she thought one plunge into the cold Pacific could bring on an asthma attack or bronchitis or pneumonia.
“I haven’t been sick,” he reminded her, reading her mind.
“Last winter,” she said.
“I didn’t go to the hospital and I haven’t had asthma attacks or allergic reactions. Not too many, anyway. I had a doctor who said there was a good chance I’d grow out of it and even though I haven’t grown that much, I’m leaving all that shit behind.”
“Your language,” she said.
“Is entirely appropriate,” he argued. “It’s all a lot of shit and you know it.”
She completely understood the attitude. It wasn’t just his disgust with chronic illness, it was also his impatience with a mother who watched every bite he took, every move he made, listening to every breath. In fact, those days she started out tired were usually caused by her inability to sleep, listening to him snoring or wheezing or the whistling of his sinuses.
There had been times during the first ten years of his life that he’d been so sick, so weak and fragile, that she feared losing him. Complicated allergies, a weak immune system and asthma conspired against him, leaving him vulnerable to infections and viruses.
It was true—in the past few years he’d gotten stronger. It was also true that she hadn’t relaxed enough yet. But what mother wouldn’t understand sitting vigil at the bedside of a small boy in an oxygen tent? She’d lost years of her life every time he was hospitalized. She’d felt so alone.
That wasn’t fair, she reminded herself. In the fourteen years since Charlie had been born there had been good friends here and there, coworkers or neighbors. They’d had to move around too much for a lot for reasons ranging from rent to changes in work, but she’d always known good people along her way. She’d been working in the small hospital in Bandon when they moved into the trailer park. When the hospital downsized, laying off a few nurses and staff, Dr. Grant suggested this job to her if she was willing to make the drive. Ha! Willing? She’d be willing to walk it! She was interviewed by Dr. Grant and his wife, Peyton, but then it was the patient herself who chose her, with Grace sitting in on the interview.
“When I do a background check, what will I learn about you?” Winnie had asked her.
She wasn’t surprised by the question. People who could afford a private nurse were usually well-off, worried about having their property plundered. So she answered, “I prefer private home health care when there’s a need for me. When there’s no job in the private sector I work in hospitals or clinics. I’m good at what I do and have an excellent job record.”
“And why don’t you work for an agency?”
She shook her head. “They don’t pay well. The patient will pay the agency a substantial amount of money for the luxury of having a bonded health-care worker but pay the actual professional very poorly. And then they’ll move the nurses around—not good for the nurse or the patient. The irony is—the bond won’t get you much. Who cares about bond? Find a professional who checks out instead. After a dozen years, I have references you can call. They’ll tell you if I did my job well. They’ll tell you I’m trustworthy. And I’m not limited to a shift or specific number of hours. I can be your primary caregiver. Provided you want me to be.”
Winnie had agreed to give her a month on trial but within two weeks she was established as permanent. And now Charlie was a part of the family, as well.
Lin Su didn’t know if that made her happy or scared to death.
* * *
Charlie liked the beach area, even if he did stay out of the sun—his own preference because he didn’t want his laptop to overheat. And he stayed sheltered if there was a wind. It wasn’t easy for him to make friends as a rule, but the area around Mrs. Banks’s house where his mom was working was populated with kids younger than he was and their parents. That made it easier. On this morning, there was a pretty brisk breeze and not too many people around. He sat on the steps right off Troy’s patio where he was out of the wind. He got his laptop out of his backpack and, holding it on his knees, fired it up. He logged onto Troy’s Wi-Fi and brought up a TED Talk on astronomy that he’d listened to about ten times. Can astronomers help doctors?
He loved TED Talks. It broke everything down into understandable terms. He was particularly interested in medicine but he didn’t dare tell his mom that. She’d start to freak out about the cost of college or something.
He was a little lost in the video when a shadow crossed in front of him. He looked up to see a guy two steps up moving toward him, grinning. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the guy said.
If you’re just going to kick sand in my face, get it over with, Charlie thought.
The guy was big. He had a little sandy-colored whisker growth on his chin and cheeks and hairy legs sticking out of his board shorts. He did wear glasses, at least. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. A computer nerd on the beach.”
Charlie slowly lowered the screen. “What’s wrong with that?”
The guy let his backpack drop off his shoulder, lifted the flap and pulled out a shiny silver laptop. “Not a thing, my man. I just thought I was the only one. Come on, let’s go to Cooper’s.”
“I’m okay here,” he said, embarrassed by his shyness.
“Come on,” he said again. “I’m meeting some people. We’ll get a drink. Juice or something. We’ll open up the computers for a few minutes till they get here.” And then he walked off, stuffing his computer into his backpack, willing Charlie to follow.
Which he did. He figured if the guy was going to kidnap him or beat him up, he wouldn’t do it in front of Cooper. At least he was reasonably sure.
By the time he got up the beach stairs the guy’s stuff was all set up at a corner table out of the breeze on the deck but he wasn’t there. Charlie stood there in indecision. Then the guy appeared from inside, still smiling, a bottled juice in each hand. He handed one to Charlie
and indicated he should sit down.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Charlie,” he said.
“I’m Frank,” the guy said, sticking out his hand for a shake. “New in town?”
“I...uh... My mom works for Mrs. Banks...”
“Oh—the new lady? ALS, I heard.”
Charlie nodded.
Frank clicked away at his keyboard while Charlie just sat there. Then he pushed up his glasses and read the label on the plastic bottle.
“Allergies?” Frank asked.
“Peanuts, shellfish and insect bites.”
“You carry an Epi?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That juice is okay. No additives. No MSG, no artificial sweetners, no gluten or corn syrup.”
“Oh,” Charlie said. “Thanks.”
“So—what are you doing on the computer? Games?”
“I have a few games, yeah. You?”
“I have some papers to read.”
“You’re a teacher?”
He laughed. “No, a student. I’m reading some published papers for research—physics, mainly. And astronomy. Have you heard the term ‘astrophysics’?”
Charlie nodded, feeling a little better about everything. The guy didn’t look like a nerd even if he was wearing glasses. Kind of thick ones. “The study of physics as it applies to heavenly bodies.” He opened up his laptop, clicked it back to life and turned the screen toward Frank, showing him the TED Talk.
Frank grinned and said, “You are my brother. I’ve seen that one. How old are you?”
“Fourteen,” he answered, fighting the blush. “I’m short for my age.” He had rejected the word small, even if it was accurate.
“So was I,” Frank said.
“You’re not anymore. I guess you grew.”
Frank chuckled. “I have an older brother, big jock. He got all the testosterone in the family. I think he was shaving in the sixth grade. I started shaving two or three weeks ago. I was small, skinny, nerdy.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
“You get beat up a lot?” Charlie asked.
Frank frowned at the question. “I had a couple of secret weapons. There was my brother, for one thing. But also I helped kids with their homework all the time. Kept me safe. Why are you listening to that video? You like astronomy?”