Pamela Bauer

That Summer Thing


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on his neck. “I hate these things.”

      She leaned over the counter and pushed his hands away. “Here. Let me fix it for you.” As she straightened his tie, she asked, “So, are you going to go put in a good word for the kid?”

      “I have to. I promised Amy that I’d always be there for Nathan, and I intend to keep that promise.”

      “He hasn’t exactly made it easy for you, has he?” Satisfied with her work, she stepped back. “There. Isn’t that better?”

      “Much, thanks.” Charlie took another sip of his coffee. “Nathan’s not a bad kid. He’s just had a lot to deal with for someone so young. Tomorrow it’ll be exactly one year since his mother died.”

      “Then it’s a good thing you’re going to see him. This past year can’t have been easy for him.”

      “No, and I haven’t spent very much time with him since he moved to West Lafayette with his grandparents. I hope to change that.”

      “You said he was coming to spend a couple of weeks with you this summer.”

      He nodded. “Next month. I think his grandparents could use a break. He’s a handful.”

      “Isn’t every teenage boy?”

      Charlie smiled. “I know I was.”

      “Yes, and look at you now.” A bell rang and she scurried over to the window to retrieve a plate of bacon and eggs. “So what kind of punishment will Nathan get?” she asked when she returned, setting the plate in front of him.

      “That’s what I’m going to find out. I want to make sure the judge understands I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him out of trouble.”

      She pulled a bottle of ketchup from her apron pocket and placed it on the counter. “It’d be a shame if he couldn’t visit you this summer.”

      “If we’re lucky, that won’t happen.” He poured a liberal amount of ketchup onto his potatoes.

      “You should enroll him in one of Aaron Mazerik’s sports programs while he’s here. Two weeks shooting hoops and hanging out with other boys his age would do him good. Speaking of basketball, I heard there’s going to be a pickup game Wednesday at the gym.”

      “Yeah. A few of us got together after Abraham’s funeral and decided to shoot some hoops on a regular basis.”

      She sighed. “I envy you. It’s been years since I was on a court.”

      If it hadn’t been for an injury, Lucy would have gone on to play basketball in college. Unfortunately a torn ligament in her knee had ruined her chances for an athletic scholarship. Instead of going away to university, she’d stayed in Riverbend, married and started a family.

      “Why don’t you stop by and play with us?” he suggested.

      “As if the guys would want a woman crashing their night out,” she drawled.

      “Hey, anyone would be nuts not to want you on their team. You were always better than I was.”

      She punched his arm playfully. “I do believe brotherly love has caused your memory to fade. It was nice seeing so many of the River Rats at Abraham’s funeral, though. Weren’t you surprised by how many came?” The River Rats was the name given to the bunch of kids who used to hang out down by the Sycamore River.

      He was surprised. Abraham Steele might have been the bank president and town patriarch, but he hadn’t exactly been the most popular man around. “Most of us showed up out of respect for Jacob.”

      “I still can’t believe he wasn’t there. No matter what happened between him and his father, he should have been here for his father’s funeral and the reading of the will.” Charlie knew she was only saying what many folks in town were thinking. “Is it possible he doesn’t know his father died?”

      He wrinkled his brow. “Could be.”

      “People are wondering if maybe Jacob’s dead.”

      Charlie raised an eyebrow. “People being you?”

      “I’m not the only one.” The bell sounded again and she disappeared briefly to deliver breakfast to the waiting customers. When she returned she said, “It’s funny how things work out. Twenty years ago, who would have thought the richest man in town would die estranged from his son?”

      “Or that he’d leave me a houseboat—or I should say, half of one.” Charlie shook his head. “When Nathan comes for his visit next month, we’re going to spend some time on the river, but first I have to work out a few details.”

      “You mean Beth being part owner, don’t you?”

      He took a sip of coffee. “I’m sure that’ll change. Ed says she wants to sell her half.”

      “Didn’t I tell you she wouldn’t want it? She has no use for a houseboat.” Lucy made a sound of disgust. “I don’t know why Abraham left it to the two of you in the first place. He knew you two were divorced. And Beth never liked the river. She’s afraid of the water—or have you forgotten?”

      Charlie didn’t want to admit that there were very few things about Beth Pennington he had forgotten. Only time and distance had allowed him not to think about them.

      “Well, he did leave it to her, and now we have to figure out a way for me to become the sole owner. Ed’s working on it.”

      Her sister frowned. “You did hire your own attorney, didn’t you?”

      “Of course.”

      “Good. As much as I respect Ed, he is her brother.”

      “Yes, and for that very reason he’ll do what he can to get this legal stuff taken care of as smoothly as possible. He knows our situation. As soon as Beth comes home, she’ll sign the necessary papers and that will be that.”

      His words stilled Lucy’s hands, which had been busy rearranging the condiment tray. “Beth is coming back to Riverbend?” she demanded. “When?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “How long is she staying this time?”

      “I don’t know,” he said, which was the truth. Despite the divorce, he and his ex-wife’s brother had managed to remain friends by not talking much about Beth. As much as Charlie had been tempted to ask Ed the details concerning her visit, he had kept his questions to himself.

      Lucy wouldn’t let the subject rest.

      “I wonder why she’s even coming. She doesn’t want to be here. Not that I blame her. She’s made a new life for herself. She doesn’t fit in here anymore.”

      Talk of Beth made Charlie’s breakfast stall on its journey to his stomach. The food seemed to stick in the middle of his chest. He took a sip of his coffee in an attempt to wash it down. “You’re sounding like Mom again.”

      Lucy threatened to smack him with her order pad. “Oh, hush!”

      “It’s true. Every time Mom hears that Beth is coming back to Riverbend, she starts saying things like, ‘Beth doesn’t belong here, she doesn’t like it here’—as if she needs to remind me that Beth’s never going to be a part of my life again.” He pointed at her with a strip of bacon. “In case you and Mom haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly been losing sleep all these years over my ex-wife. I have a life.”

      “Of course you do, and the reason Mom and I say those things is that we don’t want your life getting messed up by her again.”

      “That’s not going to happen,” he stated firmly.

      “I hope not. She was all wrong for you, Charlie.”

      “I agree. Now can we drop the subject? I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast.”

      She looked as if