Autumn Blue (15 page)

She ran across the road, not because she had the energy, but because the night air was chilly. She was anxious to be home
with her children and there was so much to do. She hadn’t prepared anything that morning for their dinner and she was running
out of options. There would be no more groceries until after payday on Friday.

Rebecca greeted her at the door. “Mom, will you tell Sissy to stay off my bed? There’s dirt all over my comforter.”

“My day was just fine, thank you. How was yours?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes.

“Mommy!” Sissy ran out, wrapping her arms around her mother, almost tripping her.

“That’s what I like. A little enthusiasm.” She bent, Crock-Pot still in hand and her coat halfway off one shoulder, to kiss
the top of her daughter’s head. “Oh, Sis. What have you got in your hair?”

“Caramel apple. It was Willy Goodwin’s birthday today. For my birthday I want caramel apples, too. No carrot muffins.”

“Okay. Where’s your brother?”

“In his room on the computer. He’s mean. I just wanted to talk to him but he slammed his door.”

Sidney set the slow cooker down in the kitchen, slid off her coat, and shuffled through the mail. No invitation to the prince’s
ball, no winning sweepstakes notice, not even a note from her mother. Just bills. “I’ll talk to Tyson. That is not acceptable
behavior in our house. Neither is getting your sister’s bedspread dirty,” she added just to be fair. “Tell her you’re sorry
and bring it out to the laundry room.”

The phone rang. Sidney grabbed the portable from the kitchen counter. “Hello?” she said cheerily.

“Mrs. Walker, this is Deputy Estrada.” The smile dropped from her face. “We don’t need your diamond ring anymore. The burglary
victim confirmed that it’s not hers. I can drop it by tonight if you like.”

Fat chance. She’d rather see Hannibal Lecter. The insult of the deputy’s innuendos on the night he took the ring was still
like a barbed hook in her skin. “No, thanks. Why don’t you just leave it at the Sheriff’s Department? I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
She didn’t often hear such iciness in her own voice.

“All right. That will be fine. Just didn’t want you to have to go to any trouble. Speaking of which, I guess Mark Dane called
you today about the community service project.”

“Yes, he did. I was surprised to hear that you’ll be involved. I thought Ty could line something up on his own.” She walked
down the hallway into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“Well, Mark—Mr. Dane is ultimately in control of all that. He feels that as long as I’m there to supervise, this would be
a good thing for everyone.” She immediately wondered how it would be good for the deputy and how close his friendship was
with the probation officer. “This way Tyson can start working off his hours while he’s still on house arrest.”

“And how does it benefit you, Deputy?”

There was a long pause. “I’ll have the satisfaction of seeing your son make some retribution.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s something personal here?”

“I can’t speak for your feelings, Mrs. Walker.”

“Is Tyson still a suspect in that burglary in town?”

Another pause. “Prime suspect.”

The conviction in his voice chilled her. What if he was right? It would mean a new charge against Tyson, two strikes on his
record, and another legal ordeal. She took a deep breath. “I understand you’ll pick him up at nine o’clock on Saturday. We’ll
see you then.”

She clicked the phone off and held it to her chest, willing her blood to slow to normal speed. She could not think about this
tonight. For the sake of her children and her own sanity, she
would
not.

She decided on baked potatoes topped with meatless chili for dinner. While the potatoes were baking, she cut carrots, celery,
and green peppers into strips, chatting with the girls about the upcoming marathon they had both chosen to compete in at school.
It was a nightly ritual, this gathering in the kitchen where the kids could twirl on their bar stools at the raised counter
while she cooked. Ty wandered through the kitchen, slicing off hunks of cheese and reaching over his mother’s shoulder to
nab strips of vegetables as fast as she could cut them. “Don’t blame me if you lose a finger,” she chided. “Anyway, we have
enough finger food.” She believed he was glad to be home, though he rarely showed any sign of it.

“Ooh, Mother!” Rebecca recoiled with her usual drama. “That’s disgusting!”

Ty rolled his eyes. “That is so lame.”

“But I
could
make you a knuckle sandwich.” A laugh bubbled up from deep in her belly. Her older children humored her with half smiles.

“And the blood could be ketchup!” Sissy said.

Ty tossed a carrot stick, hitting his little sister squarely on the forehead. She tossed it back. He dodged and it landed
on the floor. Rebecca snatched it up, launching the orange missile at Ty. “Food fight!”

“Hey, I don’t think so.” Sidney reached over to remove the carrot from her son’s hand, but suddenly thought better of it.
Instead she grabbed a handful of veggies from the cutting board. “There will be no food fighting around here,” she announced
piously, and then spun around, hurling a barrage of vegetables at her children.

At first they looked stunned. Sissy squealed with delight. Rebecca and Ty suddenly scrambled for the carrots and celery that
had hit the floor, and it became an all-out war. “Sissy, help me out here!” Sidney cried. “Ouch! Not so hard, Tyson!” He chased
his mother around the corner into the living room, the girls following, still pelting one another, all of them laughing, stumbling
over furniture. Duke barked, lunging from one child to the next, clearly convinced that this game was all about him. Rebecca
tried to push carrots down the back of Ty’s pants, which led to a wrestling match on the floor. Rebecca ended up hopelessly
pinned while Ty’s assistant, Sissy, tried to push celery up her sister’s nose. Since Rebecca clearly did not approve of the
procedure, Sidney decided it was time to intervene. “Okay, that’s enough. Whoever doesn’t help clean this mess up has to eat
that celery that’s been in Becca’s nose.”

Sidney went back to the kitchen and began slicing carrots all over again. Wind spattered droplets of rain against the window,
but it was warm inside. The kids bantered cheerily in the other room while the scents of baking potatoes and spicy chili nourished
her soul. Normally the thought of throwing away all those organic vegetables would put ringlets in Sidney’s smooth, dark blond
hair. But nothing was wasted that night. All the beta-carotene and vitamins A, C, and E may have bounced right off her children’s
bodies, but they had laughed together as a whole family for the first time in weeks.

At the dinner table, Tyson went quiet again. She and the girls carried the conversation, which was mostly about the events
of their day at school. Both of her daughters loved school, but for different reasons. Rebecca was a real student, eager to
please, always doing extra-credit projects. Her essays were accompanied by illustrations or magazine clippings whether required
or not. For Sissy it was all about recess. That girl lived to kick balls and any boys who got in her way. At one point Sidney
glimpsed Tyson staring at her. She smiled, wondering how long he had been watching her face, disappointed to see the familiar
sadness back in his eyes again. He acknowledged her with a brief spreading of his lips, something between a smile and a frown,
and went back to the business of eating his chili potato. When he was finished, he excused himself.

“Which subject are you working on tonight?” she asked, trying to sound positive.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

“Tyson. Don’t think about all of it. Just pick one thing. One manageable thing. I’ll help you if you’d like.”

“No, I’m okay. I don’t need any help.”

“
I
need help,” Rebecca said. “I have to color in my state map and I can’t find a yellow-colored pencil. That’s for the goldfinch.
I’m going to put our state bird and our state flower on the edges.”

Sidney watched her son walk away, her heart heavy at the sight of his chronically sagging shoulders. “Try the junk drawer,
Bec. There are some colored pencils in there, I think.”

The phone rang. Sissy ran for the portable while Sidney began clearing the table. “Rebecca, will you bag up these leftover
veggies for your lunches tomorrow?”

“Mom! It’s for you. It’s a man!”

Sidney sighed. What now? She took the phone from her daughter and walked into the living room. “Hello.”

“Hi, Sid. It’s Jack. How’s it going?”

“Jack! Hi.” She danced around in a joyful circle. “Things are good around here. What’s up?”

“I’ve got a peewee game in Ham Bone on Saturday. You wanna come watch? We could go out for pizza or something afterward.”

“I’ll have the girls with me on Saturday.”

“Bring them along. The more, the merrier. There will be lots of kids there.”

Sidney found herself pacing on the sofa, lifting her knees high in a jubilant march. Jack was back! Everything was going to
turn out fine.

“Mom!” Sissy whispered with her eyes bugging out.

Sidney stepped sheepishly from the sofa to the floor, caught in the act of committing a major crime in the Walker house.

“The game starts at one, but I have to be a little early. Do you want to meet me there?”

“Sure. How’s your little team doing?”

He chuckled. “They bounce around the field like pinballs. I don’t know if any of the rules are sinking in, but they have fun.
The good news is that so far the other teams we’ve played don’t seem any sharper.”

She laughed just picturing them—little boys peering out from helmets as big as watermelons, their little legs scurrying haphazardly
across the field.

“Hot dang, I love that laugh of yours.”

She chortled again, not to show it off, but because it erupted from her naturally. She had apparently inherited her deep,
spontaneous laughter from her father. It was a gift, probably one of the reasons she had enjoyed so many friends in school.
Though it had gotten her in trouble with teachers more than once. She also suspected it was the sound that had lured Dodge
Walker out of the forest of Christmas trees the night she first met him. “Yeah, well, just think twice before bringing me
to a funeral.”

“I’ll do that. Hey, too bad Ty can’t come. Tell him we’ll have to go throw a ball around sometime after he’s sprung.”

Sidney smiled. “I’ll do that.” The clouds were lifting from her life.

After tucking the girls into bed and praying with them that night, she peeked in on Ty. His lights were already out, though
it was only a little after nine. She leaned against the door frame, barely able to make out his still form beneath the blankets.
She had wanted to see what progress he’d made on his poetry assignment for English—if any. The last time she checked, there
was an open book on his desk beside a stark white notebook page, nothing more. It worried her. How could she motivate him?
Maybe Jack could help. “Are you asleep?” she whispered. There was no answer. She had the urge to kiss him, but he was fifteen
now so she slipped out, closing his door quietly behind her.

In her own room she ran a bath, sprinkling lavender bath crystals into the steaming water. Ray Charles sang love songs while
she lit three dusty pillar candles and slipped into the water with a sigh. “Ah, romance. I’ve missed you so.” She could see
herself in the full-length mirror on the linen closet door, her hair pinned loosely to the top of her head, warm candlelight
reflecting off her skin. It occurred to her for the first time in ages that she was beautiful. Not like a movie star, granted.
But she was more than just a mom or a bumbling insurance agent. Jack’s phone call had roused the sleeping woman inside her.
They had talked for almost a half hour before she had to break off the conversation to help Rebecca with her map project.
She knew now that Jack still had feelings for her; she was certain of it. A woman could sense these things. He had just been
cautious in the beginning; that was all. At one time he loved her enough to want to marry her, but she had pushed him away.
She had panicked. After all that Dodge put her through, she had been fearful to allow her feelings to run deep. All those
years of gut-twisting emotions, of wondering and worrying while she lay in bed all night listening for her husband’s car.
Then, when a good man came along, she couldn’t feel a thing. She’d gone numb inside.

She cranked the hot water on again with her toes. How long might it take for Jack to trust her again? As far as she was concerned,
she was ready to start planning the wedding right now. It’s not like they didn’t know each other well enough. They had dated
for almost two years.

God had heard her prayers. Jack was back.
Tell him we’ll have to go throw a ball around sometime.
She smiled, sinking lower into the hot bath. Tyson was not out of the dark woods yet, but neither was he in jail. She had
Mr. Bradbury to thank for that. Surely the Lord had orchestrated that series of events, too. The image of Jesus bending under
the hood of her car to mess with her spark plugs came into her head. If her car had not refused to start, Millard would not
have even been there to intervene with the judge. She remembered the grief she had felt as the corrections officer stepped
forward to haul Tyson out of court and then the wonderful sound of Millard’s voice as he offered to take her son in.

“Thank you, Lord.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She stepped out of the tub, dried herself, and donned her yellow flannel pajamas. As she yanked the top down on her body,
the gold cross she always wore around her neck caught on the top button. She felt the resistance and then a quiet pop as the
delicate gold chain broke. The cross fell to the floor at her feet. “Oh, no.” She picked it up, suddenly remembering that
the necklace had been from Jack. He gave it to her for her birthday but it had held so little significance for her at the
time. She couldn’t love him back then.