Chapter Nine #2
We got our share of visitors when the leaves blazed across the mountains in the fall, but winter came early, and tourist season hit in the heart of summer. As in, right now.
Town was packed, including the grocery store. Normally so many strange faces might have made me a little edgy, but I was glad not to have to explain Knox to anyone who knew me.
I packed our frozen food in the cooler I kept in the back of the Land Rover, adding the bag of ice I'd purchased, and arranged the rest of the groceries around it.
“Why don't you shop before you pick him up?” Knox asked.
“In the winter I do. The store isn't as crowded. This time of year, it's so busy I never know how long it'll take to get out of there.”
“Do they charge extra if you're late?”
“They do, but that's not it.” I nestled the eggs carefully so they wouldn't get crushed as we drove home on the curving roads, keeping my eyes from Knox. I didn't like to think about why I shopped first. Anything that hurt my baby sliced through me.
“Since Trey died, Adam gets upset if I'm late picking him up.
At the end of May, I got stuck at the store, and by the time I got there, he was bawling.
It took a while to calm him down, but he finally told me he thought I wasn't coming.
That I'd been in an accident like his dad.
Now I'm careful to be there a little early.
It's a waste of gas to drive back and forth when we're so far from town, so I use the cooler.”
Knox nodded in understanding. I didn't like to think about that day, Adam's desperate tears, his red face and heaving sobs. He was so young to face the loss of a parent. Grief is a difficult process for an adult. For a child? I'd do anything to make it easier for him.
“There's a coffee shop down the street,” I said, changing the subject. “I usually leave the car here, get a cup of coffee, and then go to the park. That okay with you?”
Knox lifted his chin in agreement. I'd take that as a yes. We walked in silence down the hill to the heart of Main Street, passing the church where Adam was in preschool. The small coffee shop was packed, the line stretching to the door.
I got in the back of the line, resigned to wait, when I heard my name called from behind the counter. I looked up to see Dana, a junior at the high school and our occasional babysitter. She waved me over, her long, dark braids flipping over her shoulders.
“You don't have to wait behind all these tourists,” she said, not even trying to lower her voice. A few of the people in line grumbled but fell silent after a look from Knox.
Dana grinned up at my companion and shot me a questioning look. Knowing there was no way I could get out of explaining, I said, “Knox, this is Dana. She babysits for Adam sometimes. Knox is up to do a few things with the house. His company worked with Trey when we built it.”
Some of the excitement in Dana's eyes dimmed. House stuff was boring. Exactly why I'd explained it that way. Dana was a great kid with nice parents, but small-town gossip is a force of nature. I didn't want the widow's new lover to be the latest hot story.
Dana's natural exuberance overwhelmed her disappointment and she grinned again, ignoring the grumbles of the customers second and third in line. “What can I get you guys?”
“Iced s'mores latte for me,” I said. From beside me, Knox said, “Americano. Black.”
“Just a sec. You guys can wait over by the bulletin board. I'll bring your stuff there.”
I was fumbling with my wallet as Knox handed Dana a bill saying, “Keep the change.”
“You didn't have to do that.” I led Knox to the side of the counter where creamers, sweeteners, cinnamon, and stirrers were lined up beneath a huge bulletin board packed with flyers and business cards.
Knox shrugged. We stood beside one another, comfortable in our silence, absorbing the chatter of the packed coffee shop and reading the flyers stapled and pinned in layers on the bulletin board.
Someone was trying to get rid of kittens.
Not a single tab missing on that one. Guess nobody wanted kittens this summer.
Someone else was trying to sell a used Honda.
That one had a lot of takers. Only one tab with the phone number remained.
There was an out-of-date flyer for the 4th of July concert and a new one for the Arts in the Park Festival the next week.
Dana delivered our drinks and we left, working our way through the tourists crowding the sidewalk until we got to the park. It was early enough that we were able to find a bench under a tree and we sat, Knox beside me, facing the town docks and the lake.
Black Rock was not where I imagined I’d end up. I always saw myself living in a city or near one. Trey had grown up summering in Black Rock, and he'd dreamed of living here full time. The town had charm, the people were friendly, and it was beautiful.
Still, I was lonely.
I didn't fit in, and even before Trey died, I was lonely.
We watched boats bobbing at the docks, and a young girl playing catch with a puppy, the girl doing more fetching than the dog.
I wondered, idly, how long I could sit in silence before Knox would break it. It turned out, not that long.