Feels Like Summertime(18)

My belly did that fluttery thing that always happened when I was nervous. Times one hundred. Uncle Adam got up and moved to the other side of the picnic table, leaving a place next to Jake. “Hi,” I said to him. I set the pie on the table and sat down next to him.

Dad dished out some pie and passed the rest of it down the table to the others waiting. “So, you were busy today, huh, Jake?” Uncle Adam asked.

“Yes, sir,” Jake replied gruffly. “Pop had me cleaning the bath house. With a toothbrush.”

Dad snickered. Uncle Adam elbowed him in the side. He jerked a thumb toward Dad. “He’s laughing because he had to do that very same thing once or twice when he was young.” He grinned. “I vaguely remember someone borrowing Old Man Jacobson’s canoe and flipping it over. His tackle box sank to the bottom of the lake.”

“Old Man Jacobson turned ten shades of red, and then he went to my mom and told her what I did. She shoved me toward him and told him to do his worst. Five days of cleaning toilets and floors with a toothbrush. I never borrowed anything else. Ever.” Dad smiled about it though. “I learned my lesson,” he said. He leaned toward Jake like they were sharing secrets. “So, what did you do?” he whispered dramatically, wrapping his hands around his mouth.

Jake murmured out of the corner of his mouth, “I’d rather not say, sir.”

Uncle Adam laughed. “It wouldn’t happen to involve a six-pack of beer and a fall from the dock, would it?”

Jake’s cheeks turned pink and his gaze shot all over the place.

“Ha!” Dad cried. “I told you!” He held out a hand and Uncle Adam slapped a five-dollar bill in it. “Thank you very much,” he crowed as he shoved the bill into his back pocket.

“That doesn’t sound very fair,” I protested.

“No, I deserve it,” Jake said.

Dad and Uncle Adam’s eyes met and I saw something pass between them. It was either an “I like this kid” kind of look or an “I’m not sure how to feel about this kid” kind of look. I couldn’t tell which. And that part made me nervous.

“When do you get off restriction?” Dad asked.

“I’m free now.” Jake smiled as he ate the last of his pie. “I was wondering if I might be able to take Katie for a walk with me?”

Dad looked up at the setting sun. “In the dark?” He pointed toward the waning sun. “Absolutely not.”

“Dan,” Uncle Adam chided, “it’s not even dark yet.”

“Fine,” Dad conceded. “Have her home by dark.” He pointed a finger at Jake and I saw him wither. “I mean it.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. He got up and held a hand out to me. “Take a walk with me, Katie?” He waited, holding his breath. I slipped my hand into his, and he gave it a squeeze, and that’s how I ended up holding hands with Jake Jacobson for the second time. And it was amazing.

He didn’t try to kiss me that night, but holding hands was better. My heart was all a-skitter, bouncing all over the place as we walked on the shoreline hand in hand.





18





Jake





My gut is all a-whirl trying to figure out how to talk to Katie. I’m a cop, for Christ’s sake. I’ve interrogated men of all sorts. I should be able to talk to a woman. But for some reason, I’m skittish as a newborn colt when it comes to her.

“I saw Alex early this morning,” I suddenly blurt out.

“Alex?” she asks, her brow furrowing. “Where?”

“Pop sent me out in the old canoe to fix the floating dock, and I was out there, on the water, when I saw Alex on the dock.”

She points with emphasis to the ground under our feet. “This morning?”

“Yes.” I stare at her. “You didn’t tell him he could go?”

She shakes her head. “No. I went to the store for food and left Gabby in charge. The little ones were still sleeping.”

“He tossed this into the lake.” I hold out the note to her. “It was inside a plastic bottle.”

“Oh,” she breathes out. She sinks down on the bottom step. “I didn’t know he was still doing this.”

I sit down next to her. “You know what it is?”

She scrubs a hand down her face. “It’s probably a plea to God to bring Jeff home.” Her gaze finds mine. “Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“I thought he was done with that.”

“What’s that all about?” I ask. I watch her face. You can tell a lot about people by watching their faces.

But with Katie, it’s like someone has drawn the shutters. You can’t see in the windows. You can’t get a hint of what’s going on inside.

“The last time his dad left for a deployment, he told Alex that he could write a note, fold it into a paper airplane, and send it over the back fence. That way whatever he wanted to say to his father would get to him.” She heaves a sigh. “He’s still doing it, apparently.”

I stay quiet. For some reason, I don’t think my words are needed here.

“I used to go and collect the notes every day, and then I would take pictures of them and send them to Jeff by email. Then the next time he got to talk to the kids, he would mention them, so Alex would know that his thoughts and ramblings actually made it to his dad.”