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Authors: Nan Rossiter

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BOOK: Words Get In the Way
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Jon pulled up another chair and motioned to a pretty brunette who was standing by the pool. She walked over and Jon introduced her. “Linden, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Julie.”

Linden stood to shake hands. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said. He paused thoughtfully and then teased, “I don’t know if I should say congratulations or good luck!” Julie laughed good-naturedly and sat down in the chair next to Jon, and he slid his cup to her.

He turned back to Linden. “So, what was your time this morning?”

“Under 17,” Linden said with a slow smile.

“I thought you weren’t showing off.”

“I wasn’t,” Linden replied, bringing his beer to his lips and winking at Katie.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she said flirtatiously. “I might get ideas.”

Linden looked at Jon and shook his head. “I think you better cut her off.”

Katie leaned back, took a sip, and grinned at them.

11


T
ime for bed,” Callie whispered softly. Henry squirmed away from her and made a move toward the porch steps. “Oh, no, you don’t!” she said, standing to catch him. But just as he reached the top step, the distant sky filled with sparkling bright lights. Henry came to an abrupt halt and pointed. “Fireworks,” Callie said. “Do you want to go see them?” Henry just stared into the darkness. “Stay there,” she said, eyeing him. “I’ll be right out.” She went into the kitchen, grabbed Henry’s sweatshirt and her keys, and closed the door. She knew the best place from which to watch the fireworks was up at the rocks, and she hoped no one would be there.

They bumped up the dirt road, and Callie turned the car around and parked on the opposite side, headed down. She lifted Henry out and helped him pull his sweatshirt on over his pajamas. He was wide-eyed as she picked him up and carried him down the path shrouded in darkness. When they reached the lookout, she sat down on the rocks with him on her lap and tried
not
to think about the last time she’d sat there.

They didn’t have to wait long before sparks flew into the air and disappeared, seemingly without fanfare. A moment later, though, the sky exploded into a cascade of brilliant lights raining down, and these were soon followed by several thundering detonations that echoed across the valley.

Henry squirmed and whimpered, and Callie hugged him. “It’s okay, Hen-Ben,” she assured him. “There’s nothing to be afraid of; it’s just lights and sounds.” As she said this, though, a succession of small rockets screamed into the darkness and exploded into swirling, confusing lights ... and these were followed by more deafening detonations. Henry cried out and frantically tried to cover his eyes and ears. Callie suddenly remembered the doctor’s words and realized that Henry wasn’t afraid. He was in pain, and not just any pain.
The doctor had said it could be excruciating pain!

“I’m sorry, Hen-Ben!” Callie said remorsefully, holding on to his thrashing, twisting body and trying
not
to get hit by the small fists that were fiercely clapping on the sides of his head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking! I wasn’t thinking! Let’s go! Let’s go home!” She tried desperately to calm him, but the relentless assault on his senses seemed to be unbearable. She held him close to her body and tried to shelter his head with her arms as she stumbled back up the path.

12

L
inden was surveying the dessert table when Katie came up behind him and whispered, “Nice ass!”

Linden picked up a homemade brownie and raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you talk to all your brothers?” he teased. Katie just rolled her eyes.

Mr. Connor looked up and realized the outdoor lights were still on, spied Linden standing near the door, and hollered to him. Linden went inside and found the switch, but when he reemerged into the dark yard, he thought he heard an odd sound. He stood still, trying to listen over the noise of the party and, after the second burst of fireworks, he heard it again. Puzzled, he walked slowly around the house and up the driveway. By the time he reached the road, he had realized that it was a child crying. With his heart pounding, he started to run.
Why is there a child out here?
he wondered. As he drew closer, the cries grew louder but, just as he reached the top of the last knoll, they were suddenly drowned out by the sound of a loud engine sputtering to life and he could only watch helplessly as the taillights of an old car flickered down the road.

“Where’d you go?” Katie asked when he walked back down the driveway. “You missed the fireworks.”

“I thought I heard something,” he replied, still puzzled.

“And ...”

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Katie leaned against one of the cars and almost lost her balance. “I think you’ve had enough,” Jon surmised, “
and
I think you’re going to be sorry tomorrow. Haven’t you learned anything about moderation at that Ivy League school?”

Katie scowled at him and sneered, “More than you!”

Josh agreed. “Hey, Jon, give her a break. I can remember several times at Brown when you could be found worshipping the porcelain goddess. Let’s see, tequila shots in the dorm followed by White Russians at Spats? You were three sheets to the wind! And the next day you couldn’t even run at the invite.”

Katie folded her arms across her chest and smirked at her brother. “Gee, I never heard that one before.”

“Thanks, Josh,” Jon said, putting his arm around Julie. “That was a family secret.”

“Hey!” Katie protested indignantly. “
I’m
family!”

“Sorry to break it to you,” Jon teased callously, “but
you
were adopted, hence the red hair and freckles. Didn’t you notice? No one else in the family has them.”

“Thasnot true!” Katie began to slur her words. “Mom said Aunt Ruth did.” She glanced at Linden, who was standing by himself, innocently observing the sibling discord, but when he inadvertently smiled, she drunkenly turned the tables. “At least I’m not foolish enough to believe that someone would just stop going out with me for no reason.”

Jon winced at his sister’s words. “Katie, what does that have to do with anything?”

She looked at him. “Well, it’s true and you know it! Everyone in town knows it!” Katie’s tone had all of a sudden become accusatory and sharp. “Maybe it’s time Linden learned the truth. Maybe it’s time one of his
real
friends told him the
real
reason Callie broke up with him.”

Josh stepped up beside Katie and put his arm around her. “I think it’s time for all unruly children to go to bed.” He tried to guide Katie toward the house, but she twisted away from him, swaying precariously, and refocused on Linden. Jon stepped toward her too, but she pushed him away and almost fell again.

A small group had begun to gather in the driveway and Katie felt encouraged by their interest. She took a sip from her cup and announced matter-of-factly, “Callie was pregnant, Linden. That’s why she broke up with you.” She swayed a bit before continuing. “The father of the baby is a big mystery too, but I heard he was married.”

Linden, who had been curiously waiting to hear what she was going to say, just stared at her.

“Katie, shut up, okay? You’ve said enough!” Jon commanded.

“But, thersmore, Jon,” she slurred, leaning on the car to steady herself. “I heard something’s wrong with him. I heard her son’s retarded and thaswhyshestocome home.”

Josh whistled softly. “Nice, Katie, you certainly have a way with words.”

Katie looked at her brother defiantly. “He was going to find out anyway. Don’t you think it’s better that he find out from us?”

“You mean from you,” Jon corrected.

Linden didn’t say a word. He just listened to them talk about him as if he weren’t there, and then he bit his lip and looked away. Finally, he turned and started to walk toward his truck. Jon called after him. “Linden, wait... .”

But Linden just put up his hand and said, “Thank your parents for me.”

Twenty minutes later, Linden was sitting on the dark porch with the dogs, watching the stars flicker and fade and then grow bright again. Katie’s words echoed through his head and, for the first time in a long time, Linden thought about the months that had followed his breakup with Callie.

After that Fourth of July, he had been devastated and confused, and he’d had no desire to return to school. His parents had argued vehemently with him about making such a rash decision and he’d answered them by drinking his way through the summer and fall months, trying desperately to forget. By Christmas, he’d had all he could take of his mother’s constant badgering, and he packed up his things, brushed the snow off his truck, emptied his savings account, and headed south. He had no plan. He just wanted to get away from everyone—and everything—that reminded him of Callie. With no particular destination in mind, he just drove, sleeping in truck stops, eating in diners, and continuing on until he reached Georgia.

He had pulled into a quiet parking lot to take a nap, not at all sure of where he was. But when he woke up, he realized he had parked right in front of a sign marking the beginning of the Appalachian Trail. Initially surprised by its appearance on his wayward path, he had had a sudden epiphany:
What better way to numb emotional torment than with physical suffering?
He’d climbed out of the truck, stood in front of the sign, and thought about the countless backpacking trips he’d been on as a Boy Scout. In fact, he’d probably already hiked the hardest parts of the Appalachian Trail—through the White Mountains. At that moment, he decided, and, by mid-February, he had sold his truck, bought a used backpack, and researched the supplies he’d need to thru-hike the entire trail. In the weeks that followed, he bought a tent, rain gear, nonperishable food, and a lightweight cooking set. His final purchase was a pair of leather hiking boots, which he promptly trudged through puddles and mud to break in.

Then, on a cold, rainy March morning he dropped a picture postcard of the Chattahoochee National Forest addressed to his parents into a mailbox outside the courthouse in Dahlo-nega, Georgia; hitched his backpack onto his shoulders; pulled the straps tight; and turned toward Springer Mountain. He signed into the AT log book under the trail name Wounded Finch and disappeared into the wild terrain of the most famous footpath on the East Coast. No one heard from him again until he emerged at the summit of Mount Katahdin five months later with a full beard and two dogs by his side.

But still, in the years that followed that trip, how was it that he’d never heard about Callie? Especially if, as Katie said, everyone knew. His parents had surely found out before they’d moved back to Boston, and his mother would have certainly told him. It would have been a major coup for her in her effort to prove that Callie wasn’t the right girl for him. Linden just couldn’t believe she would have been able to withhold such damning evidence.

But all this was beside the point because, if it was true, then how ... and why? Oh, Callie, why?

13

C
allie silently berated herself while Henry cried inconsolably in the backseat.
How can I be so stupid? What was I thinking? I wasn’t, obviously! What kind of mother does this to her child?
When they finally got home again, she lifted him out and whispered, “I’m sorry, Hen-Ben. It’s obviously going to take me a while to figure this out, but I will, I will! I promise!” She sat him on the bathroom counter, pulled off his sweatshirt, gently wiped his face with a warm washcloth, and helped him get ready for bed. She pulled down the Mickey Mouse sheets and Henry, finally calm and rubbing his eyes, pointed to Mickey and climbed in. He also pointed to Travelin’ Bear, and Callie handed him the beloved brown bear. Henry tucked him under his chest, and Callie knelt beside him and gently pushed the wisps of blond hair back from his forehead. Then she closed her eyes and whispered his prayer. When she opened them again, he was sound asleep.

She got up and got ready for bed too, and then fell onto the bed in the next room. Even though she knew Henry was exhausted and would probably sleep through the night, she couldn’t stop worrying. Every time she dozed off, she dreamed he was running down the road and she’d wake up with a pounding heart. Finally, she just got up, pulled her old patchwork sleeping bag out of her closet, and lay down on the floor next to his bed. She finally slept, but the next morning when she got up to make coffee, every muscle in her body ached.

BOOK: Words Get In the Way
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