The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)(16)

“You might have children of your own someday. Then what?”

“Well, I’m not counting on that, but if it does happen, the baby’s mother will have to train me. I have no experience in that.”

“So, there are three kids in your family...”

“Four actually,” he said. “Cal’s the oldest. I have an older sister and Sierra’s the baby.”

“Older sister?”

“Wait for it,” he said. “Sedona. Two years younger than Cal, two years older than me. Cal’s name is actually California Jones.”

“That’s kind of...amazing,” she said. “Was there some significance? Something special about those places?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never been to either North or South Dakota. We did spend some time in California. My parents were... What’s a nice word? Freethinkers. Kind of hippies, for lack of a better description. It got us two states, one city and a mountain range.”

“That’s very cool,” she said.

“I spent most of my childhood on a farm in Iowa,” he said. “The kids in rural Iowa didn’t really find it cool. They found it strange.”

“They must have no imagination in Iowa,” she said. “I think it’s lovely. Interesting and lovely.”

She was such a nice person, he thought. And she was killing those jeans. He was going to have to be very patient. She had something going on in her head.

“Let me ask you something,” he said. “Why the big aversion to any sort of dating? Even the most innocent sort?”

“Are we going to start this again?”

“I’m not looking for an argument,” he said. “But really, it’s such a firm decision. Is there some specific reason? That might help me to get it and not take it personally.”

She sighed. “Ugly divorce. Divorce scars. Now do you get it?”

He shrugged. “Well, of course. But I’ve never heard of a nice divorce. I haven’t heard of anyone singing happy tunes after one, either.”

“Lucky you. You haven’t had the experience,” she said.

“I haven’t been divorced, no. I’ve had a couple of breakups and I agree they’re very tough. I spent a lot of time thinking about how I might’ve known that was going to end badly. Eventually I just moved on.” He drank some beer. “I guess you’re not there yet.”

Rob came out of the kitchen carrying Dakota’s lunch.

“Hey, Dakota. How’s it going?”

“Excellent, Rob. How are you?”

Before he could answer, Sid interrupted. “Rob, did you know Dakota is one of those Joneses? Cal, Maggie, Sierra, and by association Sully, Connie and there may be more.”

“Sure,” Rob said. “You didn’t know that?”

“Did you know the Joneses are named after states, cities and mountains?”

“I don’t know if I realized that,” Rob said. “Enjoy your burger. That’s Sid’s favorite.” Then he turned and was gone.

Dakota took a big bite. He chewed and swallowed. “Your brother likes me,” he said.

“It’s not going to do you any good,” she replied.

*

Dakota fell into a very uneventful, satisfying routine. He worked three long days a week and had Sunday through Wednesday off. He started at the crack of dawn, punching in at 5:00 a.m. and out at 3:00 p.m. They told him over the summer he might be able to pick up one more day and additional benefits, but he wasn’t too worried. He had the VA and a sister-in-law who was a doctor. There was still plenty of time in that schedule for him to help Sully and he managed to have dinner at the bar and grill at least two nights a week. He saw Cal and Sierra now and then, hung out with Sully sometimes, and although Tom didn’t have all that much time to spare, they managed to have a beer at Sully’s twice.

April was bringing the first blooms and campers, and the blossoming of his new friendship with Sully. First Sierra and now Dakota found in him the sane, philosophical and comical father they hadn’t had. For Dakota it started when he told Sully, “I guess you know we grew up picking vegetables with other migrant workers, living in a bus and getting no proper education.”

“For the life of me, I can’t figure out why that worked,” Sully said, scratching his mostly bald head.

“It didn’t work,” Dakota said. “It was awful.”

“And yet look at the lot of you,” Sully said. “You all turned out good. You didn’t just survive it, you aced it. But offering a manual on child raising that suggested that kind of upbringing as a way of creating a success...” He shook his head.

“It’s well-known that some lucky bastard will always rise out of poverty and ignorance and, in spite of hard times, make something of himself...”

“I know this,” Sully said. “A kid here, a kid there, escapes a poor, uneducated family and makes good. But the Jones clan? Near as I can tell—there were four of you and all four of you not only survived, but excelled.”

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Dakota said.

“There was some nurturing there,” Sully said. “Your mother, maybe your father on his better days, each other. Somehow it happened. I couldn’t have done it.”