Chapter 12
The quacking noise of at least fifty ducks filled the air as they floated down from the blue sky to land on the still lake water that evening.
Knox sat in the grass on the bank and watched their heads dip into the water, looking for small fish for supper.
Their actions reminded him of bobbing for apples at the church festival during Halloween when he was a little boy.
Tripp had been good at getting his teeth into one, but not Brodie or Knox.
Most of the time, all they got was a nose full of water.
“I wonder what kind of luck Lottie had in that game,” he whispered.
The ducks closest to the bank glared at him.
“Okay, even though I was here first, I will be very quiet,” he said.
He wondered where Lottie was at that very moment and how things were going with her parents.
He imagined her sitting at a booth or a table across from her father.
She would be fidgeting because she had let him believe that she was in a semi-serious relationship.
Knox knew that because he had felt the same way when they were in Spanish Fort—especially with Mary Jane and Joe Clay.
Thinking about her brought on visuals of her the past week.
There she was in her overalls and braided hair, holding a board for him to nail in place.
Then a picture of the wind on Easter Sunday, blowing the sleeves away from her dress and showing her toned arms. Last was a vision of her coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body every evening.
Lately, the desire to take the towel away had been so overpowering that it took every bit of his willpower to keep his hands to himself.
“It would be so easy to take this from friendship to the next level,” he whispered.
Several ducks’ heads swiveled around to glare at him again.
“Sorry, guys. It just slipped out.” He chuckled.
The next picture that filtered through his mind was her holding the bouquet that Willa Rose, his new sister-in-law, threw at the wedding.
She’d acted a little embarrassed since she was one of only a handful of strangers at the event.
Knox didn’t know her name at that time, but he had thought she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
It had probably been nothing more than what his seven sisters called wedding fever.
The ducks suddenly took flight and landed so far across the lake that they were nothing but dark-colored dots.
He hadn’t said a word or even moved a muscle, so they couldn’t lay the blame on him for getting spooked like that.
Was this area poor picking grounds for supper, so they left to find food elsewhere?
A movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and he whipped around in time to see Cheeto flying low to the ground and coming right at him.
“You are late to the party,” Knox said. “The ducks are gone, and I doubt if they would have wanted to be your friend anyway. They weren’t very friendly, and one of the prerequisites to getting into their club is that you have to be able to swim.”
Cheeto strutted down to the edge of the lake, threw back his head, and crowed.
“No use in cussing them,” Knox told him. “They are gone.”
The rooster came back to his side for a moment and then headed back across the grass toward the trailers.
Knox turned around to be sure Cheeto didn’t encounter a snake on the way and saw Lottie.
By her walk and the way she focused on the ground, she was either watching for slithering critters or had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Hello,” he said when she was close. “How did your dinner go?”
She sat down beside him and wiped tears from her eyes. “I need a friend.”
He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m here.”
She scooted over closer to him. “Give me a minute.”
“We’ll sit right here until you are ready.”
The sun finally dipped behind the trees and left a final splash of color across the sky. The shades of pink, orange, and purple faded quickly in the water’s reflection. The dots that were ducks took flight, and the night seemed as still and heavy as the mood Lottie was in.
“It’s like life, isn’t it?” she finally said.
“What?” Knox asked.
Lottie moved away from him and pointed across the lake. “The sunset. It’s like life, and we take it for granted.”
“I suppose a poet might say something like that,” he said. “But what happened with your parents to make you so philosophical tonight?”
“I felt guilty about not telling my dad the truth,” she answered, but didn’t look at him.
“I figured that much, because I felt the same about my family.”
“But more than that, as I was sitting there in that café, I realized that my folks are aging, and I need to spend more time with them. It’s come on so gradually that I didn’t even see it until tonight.
Seems like only a few months ago, neither of them had a single gray hair, and they had very few wrinkles.
Daddy is walking slower, and most likely the reason Mama holds on to him is so they can steady each other. ”
“I’ve been there, done that, and have the tearstained shirt to prove it.”
She nodded and swiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry to bring my baggage to you. You lost both of your parents, and…”
“Shhh…” Knox butted in. “I know what you are going through. The difference is that my dad died suddenly, and there were no minutes or hours left to ask him one last question or to play one more game of chess with him. Mother was sick for months, and all three of us brothers spent every second we could with her, and we all regretted the years we wasted when she was in better health. You’ve figured this out when you can enjoy whatever days or years you can with them. That is a blessing.”
“I can’t go to El Paso. I need to be closer to them,” she said in a monotone.
“What do you want to do?”
“Build houses. Do construction work. That’s where my heart is. I’ll have to see if Uncle Jack can recommend another crew for me,” she answered.
“I might have a connection up around Spanish Fort if you think you’d be interested,” he offered. “That’s an easy two-hour drive from here.”
“That would be perfect, but what about us?” she asked. “We’d have to come clean with your family and my dad.”
“We’ve got five more weeks to figure something out. Until then, I’m sure your folks will be up this way several times since your brother will be trying to get settled in Dallas.”
“And they’ll want to see the actual cabin they are moving into, so Mama can figure out where she’s going to put everything from Grandma’s old mixing bowls to Daddy’s recliner.”
“Yep, and remember that old saying: ‘When you close a door, another one opens.’”
“Maybe Uncle Jack can shorten that time by letting them move into the second cabin that gets finished,” she said. “That way I’d be right here close by for a couple of weeks before I figure out where I’m going.”
Knox almost told her right then and there what he planned to do with the acreage he had bought, but his gut told him to wait. She could be taking a ride down the old proverbial Guilt River and would change her mind about everything after spending some real time with her folks so close by.
“Even if they don’t get the second one, the fact that you want them here sooner will make them feel good,” Knox said.
“How long did it take you to get through the grief of losing your folks?” she asked.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Why?”
“Because in some ways, I’m still going through it.
Little things still pop up that make me get misty-eyed.
Like seeing those first little purple wildflowers in the spring.
I remember picking them when I was a little kid and taking a fistful to Mother.
They don’t have much of a stem, but she would take the lid off a little saltshaker and use it for a vase.
She would set the bouquet on the dining room table like it was a huge thing.
Or at the end of the day, when I’m sitting on the porch and, for just a split second, I’m expecting Dad to get home any minute so I can get his advice on a project I want to build.
Memories are what keep them alive for me. ”
Lottie moved away from him, drew her knees up, and locked her arms around them.
“That’s why Mary Jane takes so many pictures, isn’t it?
She is making memories, not only for herself, but for the family after she is gone.
I’m going to start doing that tomorrow morning while my folks are here for doughnuts. ”
“Never thought about it that way, but you are right. Mama wrote in journals. We have them all in a box, but not a one of us three brothers have gotten past the grief enough to read them.”
“I love that idea, so I’m going to do it too. But, Knox, aren’t you curious enough to want to know what she wrote about you?”
“I know she loved me and was proud of me for my independence, even though I didn’t get a degree like Tripp or put several years into the military like Brodie. That’s enough for now,” he answered.
“You are a good man,” she whispered.
“Thank you for saying that, but what do you make of that sight?” Knox quickly changed the subject and pointed toward the middle of the lake, where a reflection of the moon became a dim spotlight for a single swan floating on the top of the water. “Oh!” she gasped. “It looks surreal.”
She took her phone from her pocket and snapped several pictures. “If they turn out good, I will have one put on canvas for the rec room.”
“That would sure be fitting. Wouldn’t it be something if it brings more swans to the lake?”
“I’m glad you are here to share that sight with me,” she said.
Knox stood up and held out a hand to her. “Me too.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Wherever you want to,” he told her. “We can take a walk, go to my trailer and watch a funny movie, or drive into town and get a snow cone.”
“Let’s watch a funny movie, and thank you,” Lottie said.
“What for?” Knox asked.
“For being here for me.”
“No thanks necessary. That’s what friends are for.”
* * *