Chapter 21
Twenty-One
September 16
“Look at you go!” Jack swims over to Luke and adjusts his blue goggles and bright red Coast Guard-approved life vest. “You’re like a shark.”
“I’m a megalodon!” Luke shouts over the splashing water. “Watch me, Mr. Jack.” And he jumps off the submerged ledge that runs the length of the pool and paddles his way toward a floating ball in the middle. Ringo treads water along with him, the shark fin of his life jacket bobbing with his movements.
Cole and I are in the big flat shallow area of the pool. He has a bucket that he enjoys filling and dumping on my head. The water is warmer in the shallow end, but it’s still feels good under the bright morning sun. It also feels good to see the boys happy. They seem to really love it here. They especially love not needing to put on socks and shoes before leaving the house. I make a note to buy a pair of sandals for each child. I don’t want them stepping on anything in their bare feet.
The boys are getting along so well. All three of them. It’s fun to see Jack interact with my sons. Maybe it’s because deep down he always wanted kids, and now, here they are, so he’s going to make every minute count.
The weird thing is, neither Luke nor Cole have mentioned Ben or his family once. Good or bad. I don’t know what to think about that, but I hope that once the novelty of being in a new house in a new environment geared toward them wears off, they’ll start to talk. Maybe one day, Ben will get the help he needs and he can be a healthy part of their lives.
But for now, Luke and Cole are happy and healthy and safe, and that’s all I can ask for.
“I think it’s almost time for lunch,” I call over to Jack and Luke as another bucket of pool water runs down my face and back.
“No! Ten more minutes, Mom,” Luke yells. “I’m about to race Mr. Jack!”
The racer in question is standing in the water, and he looks at me and shrugs. “We have one more race; this is the tie breaker. You could be the referee.”
“I’ll be the referee, but then we can have some lunch.” I stand up and look down at Cole. “Are you going to be my co-referee?”
“Yep.” He extends a hand to me, and I pull him up. Stepping out onto the pool deck, we take our places across from where Jack and Luke are. “Ready. Set. Go!”
Luke swims, splashing, and not in a straight line, but in the right direction. Jack stays right behind him, touching off the bottom and pushing himself toward me; he looks up and meets my smile.
Luke touches the edge, and Cole announces, “Luke won!”
“Yay! Luke won!” I grab a towel and help the little champion out of the pool. He’s coughing from swallowing water. “Great job. You too, Jack.”
Luke turns around to congratulate Jack, and my heart melts. I have such dear, sweet children.
“Good job, buddy!” Jack grabs the side of the pool and straightens his arms to pull himself up, water sluicing off his sleek body.
I fan myself, and Jack catches my eye, then winks. My face burns red with my blush. I grab a towel off the nearest lounge chair and throw it to Jack. He dries his hair and wraps the towel around his waist. Yep, he looks good in a towel too, even with his damp hair standing straight up. I lean in and smooth his hair down as I give him a quick kiss.
When I pull back, Luke and Cole are fighting over the bucket in the shallow end. It’s definitely time for lunch.
“You guys want peanut butter and jelly?” I ask as I pull towels from the lounger for them.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” they chant as they run past me and into the house, still dripping.
“They have a lot of energy,” Jack says, his observation almost bordering on a whine. “I’m not complaining, mind, but even with my training with Zeus and doing my shows, I’m beat.” He stretches and yawns, and I take that as a hint.
“You can take a nap if you want,” I tease with faux sympathy, then dry myself off. We’re still laughing as we head inside behind the boys.
Gabrielle, Jack’s cook, has the boys dried off and sitting at the island with a glass of milk in front of each of them. “Hello, Isa. I’ll have sandwiches for you and Jack too,” she says as she spreads what looks like mango preserves on a piece of bread. I wonder whether strawberry jam is available in the islands. If not, that might be the only thing I’ll ever miss about Maine.
Cole takes a sip from his glass. “This isn’t milk!” he screams. I’m unsure if he’s still using his outside voice or if he’s not happy with the milk.
“What’s wrong with the milk?” I examine the milk carton. It’s whole milk, and only bought yesterday. Did Ben gave them skim milk?
“Cole, that’s the milk we have. It may taste a little different, but it’s still very yummy and it will help you build strong bones.” Cole sets the milk down and doesn’t say another word about it. But, he doesn’t drink it either. It’s strange behavior for him.
Gabrielle bustles over to the table, a plate in each hand. She sets a plate in front of each boy, and that’s when I can see she used a star-shaped cookie cutter to cut their sandwiches into stars. “They are starfish,” she says.
“Momma, do megalodons eat starfish?” Luke shouts.
“Please use your inside voice. And yes, I believe they would if they came across them.” But of course I have no idea what megalodons eat and whether they would eat peanut butter and jelly starfish.
Luke eats an arm off the his sandwich. “I think they would eat them too if they could,” he says in a moderated tone.
“And here are yours.” Gabrielle hands me a plate with two starfish.
“Thank you, Gabrielle. I’ll share with Jack.” I pick up my plate and join Jack at the table. The boys are busy thinking up what else megalodons would eat for lunch as Jack and I munch on our starfish.
“I thought you were a better swimmer than that?” I poke him on his hard chest, and he pretends to be hurt.
“We all have our off days. Besides, he’s good.” Jack looks over toward Luke. “Hard to beat.”
“Well, I think he adores you.” I move my chair closer to his so I can lean against him and watch the boys. “Did I tell you how wonderful you are today yet?”
“Nope, not yet.” Jack looks a little smug. He’s attractive when’s he’s smug too.
“Thank you, again.”
“Please stop thanking me.” Jack puts an arm around me and uses his other hand to lift my chin. He bends down to kiss me, but stops a few millimeters away. His breath ghosts across my lips, and I shudder. “I told you I would do anything for you,” he whispers, then closes the distance too slowly. I can’t stand the tension, so I meet him, our mouths melding like the bread in our sandwiches. He tastes like peanuts and mangos.
“Momma, can I have some more starfish?” Luke loudly interrupts.
“I will make some more,” Gabrielle says. “You too, Cole?”
“Yes, please. I’ll take another.” Cole is much quieter. It’s funny how their personalities have switched now that they’re in a safe place. I’m glad they feel they can be themselves.
Gabrielle gets busy making starfish.
“What are we going to do the rest of the day?” Jack asks. “They’ll be all fueled up and ready to go. We could take them for a walk down on the beach or something.”
“That would be fun. They need naps, though. And some guy”—I poke his side, and he squeals before wrapping his arms around me so I can no longer poke him—“got tired out while playing in the pool. I wish, however, that we knew someone with some kids their age that they could play with.”
“Remember that school I showed ya when I took ya on a tour of the island?”
I remember that day in the dangerous Jolene. The school was very nice. I eye him. What is he getting at? “Yeah…”
“The Gifft Hill School. They have a little preschool.” Jack points his chin at the boys. “We can go check it out. If you like it, let’s send them a few days a week.”
“You mean, enroll them in preschool?” I haven’t given much thought to them going to school. I was focused so hard on getting the boys back that I didn’t think about what would happen if I succeeded.
“Yep. Preschool’s where I made friends and learned my letters. Send the boys to Gifft Hill, and they’ll meet some other kids and learn new things.”
Jack has a point. Going to school would give the boys structure, a routine. And as I get further into my pregnancy and then have the baby, I might need the downtime preschool would give me. Sure, Gabrielle will be here, but she’s not hired to play nurse. “Well, looks we’re going on a ride after we get cleaned up.”
“Great!” Jack is all smiles. “I’ll call ahead to let them know we’ll be making a visit.”
When we arrive at the Gifft Hill School, the preschool students are out on their dedicated playground surrounded by a brick fence. It reminds me of the fence on the cover of The Secret Garden that I read as a little girl. The bricks form an archway at the gate, and next to it is a bronze bell. I am enchanted.
Jack rings the bell, and a tall brunette woman comes to the gate and lets us in.
“Good afternoon! You must be Jack and Isa.” She says, all smiles. “And you must be Luke and Cole. I’m Mrs. Stackpole, and I’m very pleased to meet you.” She shakes our hands, but when she offers hers to Luke and Cole, they hide behind me.
“I think they’re a little nervous.” I’m nervous too.
“I’d like to show you around,” Mrs. Stackpole says. “Obviously, this is the playground. We have three teaching assistants”—she points out each one—“who supervise the children when they play. We have about twenty-five children and five teachers and paraprofessionals in the preschool program. We like to keep the ratio small so we can give a lot of one-on-one attention.”
We follow Mrs. Stackpole indoors, where the first thing I notice is that everything is spotless. She points out the restrooms and the school’s other facilities. “We have a kitchen here where we make nutritious lunches and snacks.”
Then we follow her into a large room that’s filled with child-height activity centers, almost like the displays at the old Bed Bath & Beyond in South Portland. “We have a pretend-play area in this section,” she says, pointing to a group of wooden appliances. “There’s a water table in the center that we change out with a sand table every few weeks. Yes, it can get a little messy, so we have oilcloth aprons for each child. They’re hanging on the wall over there.
“And next we have dress-up in that section.” We dutifully follow her finger with our gazes to see a cheval mirror and a wardrobe bursting with colorful clothing.
We leave the play room, and Mrs. Stackpole shepherds us to a soundproofed room. “This is our music room,” she explains as we look around. A grand piano sits in one corner, and guitars in a range of sizes hang on the wall. Luke’s eyes light up when he sees the instruments.
“We have some of the high school kids, who are very talented musicians, come down and work with the younger kids. Help teach them the basics.”
“We get to use all these?” Luke asks from beside me.
“Yes, Luke. You will learn how to properly treat the instruments and play if you are interested in learning more about them.”
“Oh, I am.” I’m so glad something here is interesting Luke. “Mr. Jack plays music.”
“He does? What does he play?” Mrs. Stackpole doesn’t know who Jack is? Weird. I thought everyone on the island knew who he was.
“Jack plays guitar,” Luke says proudly. “Play a song!” Luke claps his hands. “Please play a song for Mrs. Stackpole.”
“I don’t mind if you do or don’t.” Mrs. Stackpole smiles and shrugs. Cole clings tighter to my leg.
“All right. Just a quick one.” Jack picks up the biggest acoustic guitar and quickly tunes it. “I am retired, you know.”
“Yay, Jack!” Luke looks up at Mrs. Stackpole. “This is going to be so good.” She nods, and I’m certain she’s just patronizing him. I bet she gets lots of experience with that during the school day.
“This is an oldie but a goody,” Jack says when the guitar is fully tuned.
None of his songs are appropriate for a preschool. They’re primarily about women and drinking. I can’t imagine what song he’ll sing.
Then he starts picking away and sings the first verse of “House at Pooh Corner.” A perfect choice for a preschool.
“That was wonderful, Jack!” Mrs. Stackpole applauds. “Bravo!”
“See! I told you! I told you Mr. Jack can play the guitar.” Luke is jumping up and down. “I want to play guitar like Mr. Jack!”
“Luke! Inside voice.” Holding my open hands palms down, I signal him to lower his volume.
Cole laughs at his brother, and we follow Mrs. Stackpole out of the room and into a library. It’s bright and full of short bookcases packed with picture books. Cubbies and nooks built in all over the room enable the students to spend time alone to read.
“This is beautiful,” I say, looking around at all the framed posters of illustrated book covers. “If I had gone to school here when I was the boys’ age, I would have never left this room.”
“The kids make use of the art room in the main school as well as the gym when the weather isn’t very nice. We also have a professional counselor on staff should your children need help with their transition to a new school.”
I think back to the boys’ odd behavior around milk. And they’ve been away from their father for a week, but they’ve never mentioned him or his parents. We might be making an appointment with the counselor sooner than Mrs. Stackpole expects.
“This is all very nice,” I say as Luke takes my hand. “What do you think? Would you like to go to school here?”
Luke looks up at me and then Jack. And then Mrs. Stackpole. “Yeah, that would be good.”
Cole, who has been hiding behind me the whole time we’ve been on the tour, suddenly pipes up. “I want to go here too.” He stays concealed, but I can tell from his voice he is happy. He will go wherever his brother goes.
“I’ll leave you here to talk while I call over to the admissions office. They can answer any more questions you may have.” Mrs. Stackpole extends her hand again to shake ours. “It was very nice to meet you.”
“See you in class,” Luke says to her as he takes her hand.
“I hope so.” She laughs. “Goodbye, Cole. Nice meeting you.”
“Bye!” Cole waves at Mrs. Stackpole as she leaves the library.
“This is beautiful. What do you think, Jack?”
“I want you to feel comfortable where you send these guys. I think they’ll be very well taken care of here.”
“Me too. Maybe trial basis?”
“Trial basis, it is.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. Giving the boys away when I just got them back.”
“Sweetie, you aren’t giving them away,” Jack consoles me. “You’re giving them the beginning of a great future. You’re giving them the opportunity to meet friends. Didn’t you have friends when you went to school?”
This comment makes me think. Of course I had friends. And I even had classmates who later became friends—Suzanne has been a lifeline this year. Jack is right. The boys need friends too. They need people other than me in their life. “Yes. You’re right.” I smile wistfully when I realize that my little boys are growing up—fast. “You are absolutely right.”
A few minutes later, a petite woman who is maybe in her late fifties enters the library and escorts us to the administrative office.
We sit together at a big conference table. The woman, who introduces herself as school administrator Dr. Regina Maarten, gives Luke and Cole a few sheets of looseleaf paper and some colored pencils, and they set to scribbling. Once we’re finished filling out the stacks of enrollment paperwork for both boys, she carefully clips the papers into the folders she made for each boy.
“Welcome to The Gifft Hill School. We look forward to seeing you both on Monday,” she says to the boys. Then she turns to Jack. “Mr. Kendall”—her eyelashes flutter—“I am a huge fan.”
“Oh, well, thank ya.” Jack sounds like he’s caught off guard.
“If it’s not too much to ask, can you sign my…” She gets up and goes over to her desk, where she roots around, finally grabbing a red inhaler and a Sharpie and returning to the table. “Can you sign this for me?”
“Your inhaler?” Jack raises an eyebrow. When she nods vigorously, he takes the items out of her hands, scribbles his signature on the case, and hands the marker and inhaler back to her.
“Thank you so much!”
“Now you’ll think of me when you’re having an asthma attack.” Jack makes it sound like a joke, but I somehow don’t think it is. “Are we all set here?”
“Yes, other than the payment. Will you be paying in full or doing a payment plan?”
“I don’t do payments. I’ll have my accountant get in touch with you this afternoon.”
“Very well. Thank you again. Welcome to The Gifft Hill School family.” She goes over to a filing cabinet, takes out some school T-shirts, and hands each of us one.
“Thank you,” Luke says and puts his new shirt on immediately.
On our ride home, I hold Jack’s hand tight. “I know you don’t want me to say thank you anymore. But thank you.” I reach across the wide console of the Expedition and give him a kiss on his cheek. “You really did a lot for these boys today.”
“I think they’ll do well there.” He smirks. “As long as they don’t need an inhaler.”
“Oh my gosh, that was so awkward. Are all your fans like that?”
“No, some are even worse.”
I grimace and look into the back seat. The boys are looking out the windows and don’t appear to be listening to us, but I don’t want to risk it. But sometime soon I need to ask Jack to tell me about his wild fans.
With a flick of his signal, Jack turns off the main road and we start climbing the long curving driveway up to the house.
“I think you should record a children’s album.” I sit back in my seat, waiting for him to say something, and when he doesn’t, I keep talking. “I love that Kenny Loggins song you sang today. That was so appropriate.”
“Loggins wrote it, but Loggins and Messina sang it.”
“Sorry, Loggins and Messina. It was still a perfect song, and the way you sang it was so sweet.”
“Thanks.” Jack takes my hand as the Expedition climbs the drive.
When he parks, no noise comes from the back seat, so he checks his mirror. “Boys are asleep. Ya want to go on a quiet ride and let them nap?”
“It’s a nice day. Why not?”
He uses the turn-a-round before the gate to point the SUV in the opposite direction, and we head back down the hill. A comfortable silence settles in the vehicle as we take a ride around the island enjoying the views. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I could get used to this new version of family.