Riversong (27 page)

Lee wiped the condensation off her water glass. “It won't matter one iota how clever or tough I am if this restaurant tanks.”

Tommy raised his glass. “You know what they say in my business, it's always good to follow a bad act.”

Ellen hiccupped and grinned. “Here's to second chances.”

“To second chances,” said Tommy as they all toasted.

“I'm naming the restaurant ‘Riversong,’” said Lee.

Verle pulled on his ear. “River what now?”

His eyes on Lee, Tommy said softly, “Riversong, Verle. She's calling the restaurant Riversong.”

Ellen raised her glass again. “Here's to you two kids. You're perfect together.”

Tommy smirked at Lee and raised his eyebrows. “And, why's that Ellen?”

“You're the only two people in southern Oregon who don't own a gun.”

They were all still laughing when Lee called Annie out to the table and gave her a glass of wine. Tommy stood and raised his glass. “Here's to the launch of a beautiful partnership. To Riversong.” They all raised their glasses and toasted. “To Riversong,” they all repeated.

T
ommy rowed Lee across the river in his rowboat. His muscular arms pulled the paddles in a steady rhythm. A picnic lunch and a beach umbrella were at their feet. The water appeared like the surface of a green glass table, broken only by the ripples made from the paddles. It was early June and the river was full and clear of nature's debris, no sticks, algae, or dead leaves like there would be in late summer. She wondered if she would still be here then.

As Tommy rowed, Lee felt like someone from another time, as if she should be dressed in a long lace gown and carrying a frilly umbrella. She loved it; this way he had of making her feel taken care of, like a treasure. He opened doors for her. He handed her a towel when she came out of the shower. His hand rested on the small of her back when they walked together. Just now he'd helped her into the boat, holding her hand and guiding her onto the bench. So much for feminism, she'd thought. It was nice, after the difficulty of Dan, to let go, to let Tommy take care of things, even if it was just the simple act of rowing her across the water.

At the deepest part of the river Lee looked down into the ever darkening shades of green. There was no discernable bottom. Lee shivered despite the warm sun. They neared a large gray rock scattered with moss and the mineral deposits left from evaporated rain. It jutted from the surface of the water like the head of a hippopotamus.

After they reached the sandy side of the river and departed the boat, Lee stood ankle deep, feeling the fine sand sift between her toes and watched with apprehension as Tommy waded up to his waist. He turned to her, his wet shorts clinging to his lean frame. “You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.” He motioned for her to come deeper into the water.

She moved towards him, gasping a little at how cold it felt on her hot skin, wading in past her knees and then her waist. When she reached him he held both her hands in his.

“You alright?” he said.

She answered yes, thinking it was now or never, and let him gently guide her onto her back, closing her eyes to block out the bright light of the sun, ready for his instruction. One hand was under her legs, the other under her back, so that she was almost nestled against his stomach. She held her body stiff, her neck slightly bent and tense, ready to put her feet on the ground if he let go. “Just allow yourself to relax and pretend like you're a board,” he said. “I won't let go until you tell me you're ready.”

Her eyes were screwed shut as she tried to imagine herself as a relaxed board. But the harder she worked on it the more tense she became. She opened her eyes. “I can't do it.”

His brown eyes looked down at her. “You can. Think of a time when you were totally relaxed, totally happy. Picture yourself there again.”

She closed her eyes. Several weeks ago that would have been difficult but now she thought of the night before. After dinner, she and Tommy had watched the stars from his patio, laying side by side on the chaise lounge. It had been clear and warm, the fir and pine trees next to his house rustling in the slight breeze. She had a soft blanket wrapped around her legs, the fresh dry air touching her bare arms and face. The stars scattered across the sky dazzled so that they seemed close, like it was a high ceiling instead of light years away. Tommy reached over and took her hand in his and they stayed like that, gazing upward, for several minutes. She'd let herself have the moment without guilt or worry, had allowed herself to feel safe.

Thinking of it now, she felt her muscles unclench and she relaxed. She began to feel the water as a surface, like a soft cot, there to support and restore her. She felt Tommy's arms relax a little too. “You ready for me to move away?” he said.

“I guess.”

He backed away a few inches and then removed his arms from under her. She was floating. She opened her eyes, turning her head to look at him. “Hey, I'm doing it.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt herself go under. She put her feet against the small stones and pebbles as she jerked out of the water. She coughed and sputtered, wiping her eyes with her hands.

Tommy grinned at her. “You did it.”

“For about a second.”

He instructed her to try again and this time to stay still until she felt him next to her again. She leaned back into the water but found her feet unwilling to leave the bottom. He scooped under her legs and held her until she indicated she was ready for him to let go. This time she floated for a long moment before he was next to her again. They practiced eight more times before he wrapped her legs around him and walked with her to the dry sand of the beach. They plopped down on beach towels next to one another, under his blue and white striped umbrella. “You did well,” he said. “I told you it wasn't so hard.”

She put on a straw beach hat and sunglasses, resting under the shade of the umbrella while he rummaged in the small ice chest. Handing her a bottle of water, he said, “Tomorrow I can show you how to blow bubbles.” Then he began to play with the left thigh string of her one piece bathing suit. His eyes half closed in that look she knew already from the week they spent together.

She scooted closer to him, putting her hand on his stomach. “So far swimming lessons are good,” she said.

“Told you.”

They couldn't keep their hands from one another. Every free moment they were together it was the pulling of clothes, grabbing and caressing of skin and hair. Sometimes they couldn't even get free of their clothes before they were intertwined, in every spot of Tommy's house, before breakfast, after lunch, before Tommy's gigs, in the middle of the night.

A week went by and then another. In between planning for the restaurant, she would think of him and hurry to finish the day's work to rush to his house. They developed a pattern where they worked during the days and met in the late afternoons at his house for her swimming lesson. After the lesson they would make dinner together and if he didn't have a gig to go to in the evenings, she stayed the night. After several weeks she brought a few clothing items over, going home every other day to check on the progress at her house. She knew she was getting involved too soon, and too deeply, but she couldn't make herself stop.

One afternoon on his couch he made her cry out twice before he let himself go. Afterwards, they lay together, half clothed, still flushed. He played with her hair. “Do you want to stay at your house sometime? We don't always have to be here.”

“I don't know. Maybe.” That afternoon she had stopped by to see the progress and was amazed to see Joshua up on a ladder painting the ceiling of the living room. Joshua had explained, gesturing with his wet paintbrush at the old floors. “Better to paint before I put the new floors down.” She'd chosen a soft yellow called, “Butter” for the living room and beige named, “Eggnog” for the foyer and stairwell and upstairs hallway. “Better on your walls than in your fridge,” she'd said to Joshua.

Now, she ran her finger along Tommy's lower lip, thinking how even with the cosmetic changes to the house, it was still stacked with memories better left covered. “Paint fumes are pretty strong. It's better to stay here.”

“Whatever you say.”

Weeks went by and Tommy taught her how to blow bubbles, rhythmic breathing and a basic flutter kick and paddle stroke. On the afternoon of her twentieth week of pregnancy, she sat on a beach towel under the umbrella working on a list of items still left to do before the grand opening of Riversong.

To do:

Negotiate terms with local produce farmers,

Developing a marketing plan

Meet with the local art group about the rotating shows

Hire staff

Just then she heard Tommy yell from the other side of the river and looked up to see him dive into the water and swim towards her. In less than a minute he stood at the edge of her blanket, shaking the water from his hair. He plopped beside her, looking like a child at the ice cream shop. “Did you see the doc?” he asked.

“I did.”

“Well, is it a boy or a girl?”

She closed her notebook, stretching her legs out on the blanket. “I didn't find out.”

His face changed in a way she could decipher. “You didn't find out?”

“I couldn't decide if I wanted to or not. Then I was in the ultrasound and the doctor asked if I wanted to know and suddenly I didn't want to know.” She laughed. “It was the strangest thing.”

He looked away, made circles in the sand with a twig. “Everything okay, though?”

“Yeah. Everything's good.”

Tommy broke the twig in two, threw one piece into the water. “Measurements all on track? Weight gain good? Any signs of problems?”

“Nothing,” she said. “We going to have a lesson?”

He looked at her, his face blank. “What's that?”

“A lesson. A swimming lesson?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He got up and waded into the water.

She followed him, calling out. “Tommy, is something wrong?”

“Not a thing.” His voice sounded tight, almost monotone.

“You have to work tonight?”

He shook his head, no. He turned away, picking up a rock from the river bottom and chucking it up the river.

She kept her voice light. “You never said whether you thought I should find out or not.”

He shrugged, staring across the river. “You never asked.”

She smiled, teasing. “That doesn't usually stop you from having an opinion.”

His eyes were hooded. “I don't get to have an opinion. I'm not the father. Isn't that right?”

“Tommy, I'm sorry.” She watched old grief play across his face. “I don't know what to say.”

“I know.”

He turned towards her then. “Lee, promise me that if you leave you'll let me know

Suddenly she felt a sensation in her lower stomach like butterflies. She reached for him. “Tommy, I think I just felt the baby for the first time.”

He strode through the water, putting his hand on her stomach. “Really?”

She put her hand on top of his and whispered. “Yes, it's just like they say in the books. Like bubbles or butterflies.”

They stood like that for a moment until Lee said, “I'm glad you were here for it”.

His eyes glistened and then he hugged her, holding her tightly against his wet body. “Me too.”

L
ee collapsed on a blanket at Ellen's swimming hole, the river water beading on her sun-screened skin. She squeezed water from her hair, at her shoulders now, and perched her sunhat over her face, closing her eyes. She smiled hearing the sound of Alder's body hitting the water as he jumped from a rock and then the splash of his arms and legs swimming through the water. He called out to the yellow Labrador puppy playing at the shore. “Sunshine, come here girl.”

Ellen brought Adler and Sunshine to the river every afternoon while Lee and Annie worked. Watching Ellen and Alder interact over the last several months, Lee couldn't help but fill with sadness, thinking of the mother Ellen must have been and the unspeakable tragedy of her loss.

The mid-summer air was hot and dry. The sun's rays felt as if they were healing some broken part of her as she lay there, thinking of nothing, swatting the air to thwart a buzzing dragonfly from resting on her hat. Down closer to the river were Ellen and Annie, their feet in the water, chatting amiably together; a rare day off for them all, after two months of intense focus on the building and planning of Riversong. The restaurant would open in five weeks. Four weeks had gone by since she first felt the flutter of her baby and in that time her stomach seemed to have doubled in size. Annie called it “the pop”. It had popped alright, she thought. She wondered if it would ever pop back in?

She heard the crunch of rocks, lifted her hat and saw four feet, two with white socks and tennis shoes, and two brown feet in Tevas. She removed her hat to see Tommy's face peering down at her. She knew at once he was agitated because he was rubbing the scar on his cheek.

He plopped next to her and caressed the side of her arm with his finger. “I hope you have sunscreen on.”