Just 18 Summers

  Ava looked disappointed, but then her eyes brightened. “We could get money from the church. The church helps homeless people all the time.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  Butch’s eye muscle twitched. He was losing his patience. “It’s impossible, okay? Please tell me you didn’t already say something to the dad.”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “But Bryn is going to.”

  Butch turned away from his daughter, scooping up his gloves and throwing a box of nails into the truck bed. Why would she do such a thing? He didn’t look at her. “You’ve put me in a very awkward position.”

  “Look! There they are!”

  Butch turned. A rail-thin guy walked toward them, wearing a dirty white shirt, or more like it wore him. His jeans were baggy and ripped, not in a stylish sort of way. He held his little girl’s hand as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

  “I have to disappoint them now,” Butch said out of the side of his mouth as he tried to stretch out a smile he hoped would erase the embarrassment he was already feeling.

  As the two approached, he stepped forward and offered his hand. “Hi. I’m Butch.”

  “Keith. This is my daughter, Bryn.”

  Butch glanced down at the little girl, whose unkempt hair reflected their obvious desperation. “Hello. Listen, I don’t know what all your daughter told you—”

  Keith smiled a little and waved his hand. “It’s okay. I figured there was some mistake. No such thing as a free house.”

  “No, there really isn’t. If I could, I’d . . .” Butch’s words trailed off because they seemed so inadequate, so ridiculous. “I’m sorry” fell out of his mouth like a crumb.

  “It’s fine. Thanks. Come on, Bryn,” Keith said and began turning back toward the homeless shelter.

  “Do you guys need anything? Money?” Butch thought he might have a twenty in his truck somewhere.

  “No, we’re okay.”

  “We’ve got some lunch over here. Pizza.” It was cold and he felt bad for offering it, but Bryn’s eyes lit with excitement. She looked up at her dad.

  Reluctantly he nodded, then looked at Butch. “It’s been a while since she’s had pizza.”

  “It’s probably cold. . . .”

  “It won’t matter,” Keith laughed.

  Butch watched Ava trail Bryn, skipping along behind her. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter to me, either. I lived on cold pizza before I got married.” He glanced at Keith. “I didn’t eat lunch. You hungry?”

  Keith nodded.

  “Come on, let’s grab some.”

  They sat on the woodpile with the kids. Behind them, Bryn was telling Ava how much she liked unicorns. Butch smiled. Perfect. Ava was a unicorn expert.

  “So,” Butch said, unsure how he should broach the subject, “landed on tough times?”

  Keith slowly ate his pizza. “Yeah. It’s just been me and Bryn for about four months now.”

  “Where’s your wife?” Ava suddenly inserted herself into the conversation.

  Butch scowled at her. “Ava . . .”

  “No, that’s okay,” Keith said, smiling gently at her. “She died. Cancer.” Butch looked away while Keith kept talking. “She had the good job, and I got laid off about a year ago. So we lost the house pretty quick.”

  Butch nodded. How easily, he realized, the tables could’ve turned on him like that. He noticed Ava’s shoes . . . brand-new. Her socks, white. Her hair, brushed. She was bathed and her teeth were clean. What would he have done if they’d become homeless? What if it had been Jenny who’d made more money?

  “I’m sorry,” Butch said, but it came out more as a mumble because the words sort of stuck in his throat.

  “I’m working at a body shop part-time now,” Keith said. “Hoping that’ll turn into something bigger. Of course, it’ll be tough to go full-time. I got nobody to watch Bryn.”

  A pause swelled between them, Butch finding it hard to know what to say next. Finally he took a cue from Ava’s chatty side and said, “Listen, are you going to be around here in the next couple of weeks?”

  “Yeah, looks like it. We’re staying at the shelter until we can find someplace else.”

  “I’d like to talk with you again sometime.”

  “About what?”

  Butch laughed a little. “I don’t know yet, but I feel like we’re supposed to talk again.”

  Keith smiled. “Okay. Sure.” He took Bryn’s hand. She grabbed for another piece of pizza as they walked away and happily ate as Butch and Ava watched them.

  Ava crawled down to where Butch sat. “What are you going to do?”

  “This is crazy . . .”

  Ava squealed and clapped. “You’re going to build him a house!”

  Butch shook his head. “There’s no way. I need money and materials and people who’ll work for free.”

  “No problem on that one.” Ava jumped from the woodpile and whistled to the workers, the exact way they’d shown her last week. Everyone stopped what they were doing. “Hey! Would you guys work a couple of weekends for free if we could give a house to a homeless family?”

  “Sure!” Tippy yelled back.

  “Absolutely!” Jack said.

  And the rest followed with thumbs-ups and claps even though they knew full well it would be more than a couple of weekends.

  “Great! Thanks!” Ava turned back to Butch. “I got your workers. Now I’ll get your money and your materials.”

  Butch wanted to protest. Normally he would protest. But something in him said that this tiny bundle of enthusiasm could actually pull it off.

  “This is nuts,” he whispered.

  “This is fun!” Ava said. Then her face turned serious. “But I’m going to need to use your phone. I need to call the church.” He slowly handed it over. “I promise I won’t download Fruit Ninja.” She bounded off.

  “Fruit Ninja is the least of my concerns.” Butch sat on the woodpile, slumped by the burden he’d just taken on, but in awe of Ava. He didn’t know how this was even possible. Was his crew really going to come on weekends? For free?

  He closed the pizza box and looked toward the homeless shelter. Keith and Bryn were gone now. Some trash blew down the street and he watched it go, but he was thinking about Jenny.

  He’d heard people say they still felt close to their loved ones after death, that “their spirit lives on,” but Butch thought it was just a way to cope with death. Once Jenny was gone, he’d never felt her nearby. Not really. Not in a tangible way.

  But as he sat on that woodpile and considered building a house for a homeless man, it was as if Jenny stood beside him, smiling at him, proud of his unusual moment of selflessness. It wasn’t his strongest suit, for sure. Jenny was the unselfish one in the relationship. He mostly just tagged along.

  Ava stood near his truck, chatting and using her free hand to talk, like Jenny used to. Butch smiled.

  “Okay, Jenny. I’ll do this. I’ll do it for you.”

  CHAPTER 32

  BETH

  IT HAD BEEN ALMOST a full day since her meltdown. The hospital meltdown. She’d had so many she was starting to have to name them.

  The family quietly went about their business. Larry pretended she’d never yelled about eggs in the ER. That was one thing she loved about Larry. He didn’t judge. Although sometimes she wished he would. They might have more in common.

  Beth leaned against the kitchen counter like she was stretching her calves for a long run. She hadn’t exercised in four years; she was mostly just trying to keep herself from collapsing.

  Robin came bounding downstairs. Beth stood upright, smiled broadly. “I was just about to start dinner. Want to help?”

  Robin didn’t look amused. “Have to go. Wedding plans.”

  “Maybe later we can look through the—”

  “Probably not.”

  She breezed out the door without another word.

  “Don’t . . . don?
??t . . .” Beth swallowed back the hysteria that was creeping up her throat, the same feeling she got at the thought of seeing Helen again.

  Outside, she heard Larry arrive home from getting supplies for some fun project he had planned. He swung open the door and smiled at her, greeting her with a warm hug. “Hi. How’s your day going?”

  She shrugged. “Okay. Not great. How was yours?”

  “It’s getting ready to get real exciting.” He turned toward the staircase. “Nathan! Chip! Come down here!”

  Beth listened to their feet beat against the ceiling and then tumble down the stairs.

  “Where’s Robin?”

  “Gone,” Beth mumbled.

  Larry sighed. “By the way, you need to call Butch. Or Ava. Not sure who’s in charge, but they’re undertaking a big project, building a home for someone. I didn’t quite understand—Ava was talking fast. But we’re signed up to volunteer for something.”

  In a matter of seconds Nathan and Chip were by Larry’s side.

  “What’s going on?” Chip asked.

  “Look out there,” Larry said, pointing to the front window.

  The boys hurried to the window. Beth did too, without the hurry. It was hard to get excited about much, but she tried.

  “Dad!” Chip gasped. “What is that?”

  Beth wiggled her way in between them. Sitting right in the middle of the driveway was an old Cutlass Ciera.

  “That is our new project!”

  The boys poured out the front door and Beth followed. Nathan circled it. It was the most hideous car Beth had ever seen.

  “It’s a piece of junk!” Chip said, but it came out as if they’d just purchased a Jaguar.

  “Exactly. Our project is to make it not a piece of junk.” Larry smiled.

  “We’re going to restore it?”

  “Yep!”

  There was a pause, and for a moment Beth thought Larry’s idea had bombed, but suddenly Nathan slapped his hands together and Chip flung himself over the hood of the car.

  “You’re kidding!” Chip laughed.

  “Do you have any idea how to do this?” Nathan asked. Beth was thinking the same thing.

  “Absolutely none.” Larry pulled a book from his back pocket. “But I got this.”

  Beth glanced at it. Restoring Cars for Dummies.

  Nathan gave Larry a playful shove. “This is going to be a complete disaster.”

  “An utter waste of time!” Larry laughed.

  “I love this family!” Chip said.

  Larry rubbed his hands together. “All right, boys, why don’t you go into the garage and see if we have any tools.”

  “What tools do we need?” Chip asked.

  “I have no idea.” They all burst into laughter again.

  As the boys went into the garage, Larry turned to Beth. She wasn’t sure what expression she was wearing, but whatever it was, it murdered Larry’s smile. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “How can you do this to me?”

  “Honey, this car was like five hundred bucks. Totally in our budget for our Summer of Intense Fun.”

  “I’m not talking about the money,” Beth said, and despite her best intentions, her voice rose with every word, causing money to sound like it was being sung. Badly.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “What’s the matter? You’re doing the stupidest things, Larry. Building kites. Playing with whipped cream. Now bringing this literal piece of junk into our driveway. And they love it! They’re eating it up!”

  Larry stood there shrugging and staring and kicking the toe of his shoe into the concrete. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “It’s just not fair! It’s not fair, Larry!”

  Larry looked genuinely confused.

  “You pull these stupid stunts and the boys adore you! But the more I pine after Robin, the more she pulls away. Apparently the only way I can win her heart is to buy her a log of pepperoni!”

  Larry reached out for Beth, but she turned away. “I wanted a summer of fun too. I wanted to spend some time with my daughter, and now she won’t even eat breakfast anymore because that would mean she’d have to eat it with me.”

  Larry was behind her, she could feel, but he didn’t touch her. “Look, Beth, here’s the deal. And I’m telling you the truth. Guys bond over stupid. That’s just how it is. We’re shallow, you know? Put a Mento into a diet soda and shoot carbonation fountains and you’re friends for life.”

  Beth turned to him. “Did you do that, too?”

  “I had that planned for next week, except I thought . . .” He glanced at her, waving his hands like he was trying to erase everything. “Doesn’t matter. Listen,” he said, his hands on her shoulders. They felt like they weighed a ton each. “It’s not what you think here, with you and Robin. She’s on her own now. She’s flexing her independent muscle. The more you want her to think one way, the more she will think the other. That’s just what kids do.”

  Beth rubbed her thumbs under her eyes, hoping to save her mascara. She took a deep breath and looked at the car. It was a beat-up old thing, on its last leg. It looked like she felt. She hadn’t even fully raised her children. Nathan would be gone soon too, but there was still Chip.

  She watched her two boys pop the hood of the car. It creaked open like it hadn’t been lifted in a decade. They laughed and peered in. They would miss each other. This was their last summer together. She hadn’t really thought of that. And here she was, about to ruin a moment because of her selfishness.

  She touched Larry’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “Honey,” he said, pulling her close. “It’s okay. I understand. I promise. And I also promise that you and Robin will get through this.”

  “But will she be okay, Larry? Marrying Marvin? Marvin?”

  Larry paused. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. It kind of has disaster written all over it. But it’s her life. We have to let her live it. We have to let God take care of her.”

  Beth nodded but didn’t want to. “The day she was born, I held her in that beautiful pink blanket your mom made her, and I promised I would always take care of her. I kept that promise. I just didn’t realize, I guess, that there would come a time when she wouldn’t want to be taken care of.”

  “She will always need her mom,” Larry said.

  “I’ve prayed her whole life for her soul mate. Marvin has to be a mistake, right? He has to be.”

  Larry shrugged. “I mean . . . the more I’m around Marvin, the more I like—”

  Then they both heard the most awful noise, the kind of noise that sends a chill down the spine and a burst of nausea through the stomach.

  Helen.

  “Oh, my,” she was saying, standing behind her little fence, tapping her finger against her little pearls, looking at the car. “What do we have here?” It wasn’t a question born out of curiosity. It was the kind of condemning statement that tries to disguise itself behind a question mark. Her eyes cut to Beth. “Beth, how nice to see you. Are you feeling better?”

  Larry put his hand out, but Beth broke through it, marching to the fence line. “I’m feeling fine, Helen. Just fine. As fine as I’ve ever felt.”

  Helen shifted her eyes back to the car. “What is this? A car for Nathan for college? How . . . excited . . . he must be.”

  “It’s a project,” Beth said, though she thought it might’ve actually come out with a growl.

  Larry hurried over. “It’s something we’re doing for fun. Restoring an old car. Charles is welcome to come over with Cory.”

  Helen smiled, but it was not warm. It wasn’t even cool. It was filled with . . . pity. Beth’s chest tightened so drastically that she might’ve otherwise thought she was having a heart attack if she didn’t perceive the knife right in front of her, stabbing her in the chest.

  “Well,” Helen said, “it is quite the monstrosity you’ve parked here. How long will this restoration take?”

  Nathan and Chip simultaneously jumped ba
ck and yelled, “Whoa!” Inky black oil slowly drained out from underneath the car.

  “That’s going to leave a stain!” Nathan laughed. The boys stuck their heads under the hood again.

  “It may take a while,” Larry said.

  “Well, I’m sorry to break this to you, but the homeowners’ association has strict rules about parking nondrivable vehicles in driveways.”

  Larry glanced back. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The HOA is kind of lax on that kind of stuff.”

  Helen crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t count on them being lax on this one.”

  “Not to worry,” Larry hollered as he walked to the car. “We’ll have this thing up and running in no time.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Helen said. Her attention shifted back to Beth. “Will you be at scrapbooking this week?”

  Beth held on to the fence post so tightly that she knew if she slid her hand down just a fraction, her palm would be riddled with splinters. But she was having a hard time holding her own. What she really wanted to do was shove Helen. Shove her right at her pearl line. She pictured the pearls breaking apart, rolling down the driveway one by one.

  “Beth?”

  Beth blinked. “What?”

  “Scrapbooking? Are you coming this week?”

  Beth drew in a breath through her nostrils and realized she knew Helen’s Achilles’ heel. It was her own as well. “Yes. Well, probably, though Robin and I are planning on doing some errands together. We like—love—to spend time with each other, you know.”

  It was fleeting, but Beth saw it. Jealousy colored Helen’s expression.

  “I’m sorry—I have to leave. Appointments.” Helen stepped away from the fence and walked toward her house, one arm wrapped around herself while the other hand fingered her pearls, all the way inside.

  For the first time in days, Beth didn’t have to fake her smile. But then she felt guilty about it because she always had the thought What would Jenny do? WWJD—she should get that bracelet. Jenny, she knew, would give Helen the benefit of the doubt.

  She called, “I’ll get some soda” and bounded up the porch steps. They didn’t even creak. She opened the door and floated inside, heading for the pantry to find an unopened bottle. The boys liked their soda fizzy.