A Summer By The Lake

"Who are you?"

She let out a little scream, going halfway off the deck before she stopped, looking back warily.

"Who the hell are you, asshole?" she asked back.

I tried to hide my amusement by taking a firm tone.

"Do you kiss people with that potty mouth?"

"Just my mother. You didn't answer my question."

"I asked first."

"Brittany Brianna Jones."

"Harrison Hardison Smith. Now Miss Jones, how do happen to be on this deck?"

She stood as tall as her four foot eleven height would allow, trying to look confident.

"I've got permission. Mr Howell asked us to look in on his house. I come here because I can get WiFi."

I noticed the tablet in her hands.

"Well, Miss Jones, that[I pointed to the house down the hill, just barely visible] is Mr. Howell's house. This one is mine."

She went about six shades of red.

"You sure this is your house?"

"That's what it said on the deed last time I looked. Want a coke?"

"I don't know you."

"That's right. But it wasn't me sitting on your deck. You can stay if you want. I have questions. Chips?"

I went back in and put my beer away, getting two cokes and a bowl of chips and sitting them on the table. I sat in a rocking chair while she sat at the table, asking questions one after another, between munching on chips and sipping the coke through the straw I gave her. She started.

"How come I haven't seen a jet ski or a powerboat?"

"Because the state owns most of the shoreline and banned them. Canoes, paddle boats, and sailboats only."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Got any kids?"

"No."

"Live here by yourself? Got a girlfriend?"

"Yes, and no."

"Why not?"

"Don't want one."

"Don't want one now, or don't want one ever?"

"Just right now."

"You're not gay, are you?"

"No, and if I was, I wouldn't want a boyfriend right now, either."

"Can I come back?"

"Why?"

" 'Cause this is the only place I can get reception."

We switched. I started asking her questions.

"Who are you here with?"

"My mom."

"Mom got a name?"

"Sarah Parker. She took back her maiden name in the divorce."

"Ah, is she the one who showed up a while back, before everyone else? The real friendly woman?"

"No. She's the one who showed up with a bad attitude. She's here to get away from everything, everything being my dad."

"How do you feel about that? Did you feel the need to get way from everything too?"

For the first time, the little girl in her surfaced.

" Yes, bit it sucks. Dad was mean to her and me. He didn't hit us, but called us, especially mom, a lot of names. I don't think he loved us much. I know he doesn't, now."

"Now, how would you know that?"

"Because he told us."

"In those exact words? I don't love you?"

"No, his exact words were 'now that the bitch and the brat are out of the way, I can have some real fun'. He was living with some woman the next week. Says he's gonna marry her."

What an asshole.

"You're right. That does suck. Look, it's getting dark, do you need a flashlight to get back home?"

She looked around.

"Oh no. Mom's gonna have a cow. Will you walk me home? I was supposed to be home before now."

"I'll do you one better. Ever been in a canoe?"

I could see the excitement in her eyes.

"No, but I've always wanted to."

"Come on, then."

I pulled my two seater out of the shed, and put her in the front, making sure her life jacket was tight.

"Canoe class, first lesson. A canoe is like a bicycle, it'll go in the direction you lean. Lean too far, and over you go. Sit up straight, keep your center of balance. Ready?"

She did well, actually listened to me. Once I got us out in the water and going in the direction we needed, I even let her paddle, steering with mine when I needed to correct course. In a third of the time it would have taken to walk, we were beaching in front of her house.

Her mom was in the yard, looking up the trail. She liked to be called B.B., and her mom was calling it out, to get a response.

"Behind you, mom! Look, I drove a canoe. It was great, can we get one?"

You don't actually drive a canoe, but I wasn't going to spoil her mood. I didn't need to worry, mom was more than happy to do it for me.

"Where have you been, young lady? You were supposed to be back an hour ago. I was worried to death."

"Gee, mom, I'm fine. I was talking to Mr. Smith and lost track of time. He brought me home in the canoe, isn't it great? We need to get one."

She looked at me with blood in her eyes.

"You! I might have known. Stay away from her, you pervert."

B.B. was looking back and forth at us with her mouth hanging open.

"Mom! Leave him alone! He was nice to me. I was trespassing on his deck. I didn't know it was his house. I thought I was at Mr. Howell's house."

She was still angry.

"I'm warning you. Stay away from her."

I looked at her, thinking if I had been married to her I would have left too, and it wouldn't have been over another woman.

"If that's your wish. Bye B.B., it was good to meet you."

She looked like she was going to cry.

"Bye, H.H." She had called me that because like her, my first two initials were the same. I thought it was cute.

Sound carries over water really well. As I paddled away I could hear the exchange between mother and daughter.

"You had to do it, didn't you mom? One person in this wilderness, and I can't talk to him. Do we have to make a career out of being miserable?"

Her voice sounded weary, almost defeatist.

"No, honey. But I don't trust that man. Stay away from him."

"What did he do, mom? Why do you dislike him so much?"

"Stop, B.B. Go on into the house, we'll make some hot chocolate. It's supposed to be summer, damn it."

I could hear the child's grumbling voice as she went into the cabin.

................................................

I didn't see them for five more days.

And as usual, it was inopportune. They were sitting on the side of the road, with the hood up and steam coming out of the engine compartment.

I pulled behind them and got out.

"Need some help?"

"We're fine." she snapped refusing to look at me. It was getting dark. B.B. didn't look fine.

"All right, just thought I'd offer."

I walked back to my truck slowly, shaking my head at stupid, stubborn people. I had walked around the car on the way back. It must have just happened, there was to much steam to see the problem.

I heard the door fly open and running steps. It was the girl.

"Please, H.H., don't leave us out here in the dark."

I felt bad for her.

"I wouldn't do that. I was going call a tow truck when I got down to the village to pick your car up. I figured by the time I came back your mom would smarten up enough to let me take you home."

While we were talking her mom got out and came to the truck.

"B.B.! Get in the car. I can handle this."

God, that woman was irritating.

"And just how are you gonna handle it? I'm sure by now you know you can't get cell service until you get to the bottom of the mountain. Maybe you were going to walk the six miles into town, just a nice, leisurely stroll in the dark with your daughter. A good bonding moment, huh? By the time you get to town the garage will be closed and no one can get to your car until Monday, Bob refuses to work on Sunday. Then you can walk back up the mountain and on home. It's only eleven miles, more or less."

I was standing close to the girl and put my hands over her ears.

"Get your head out of your ass, goddamnit! Think of your child first, for a change."

She drew in a sharp breath, ready to explode as I took my hand off B.B.s head, hopefully cutting off any profanity riddled rant.

She was past red, she was purple. I didn't give her a chance to speak.

"If you need anything out of the car, get it now. If we hurry, maybe Bob will come out before he goes home tonight. B.B., you can ride in the front, okay?"

B.B ran and got her mothers' purse and a small backpack. My truck had an extended cab, with a small back seat. Sarah refused my help getting in. B.B. settled into the front seat and immediately started chattering.

"I looked you up. You're kind of famous. Where can I get your books? I've never met a writer before."

I glanced into the rear view mirror. Was that interest on her face?

"Don't waste money buying any. I have a few copies you can have, just tell me when you're coming and I'll leave them out on the porch."

"Can I keep them?"

"If you want."

"Will you autograph them for me?"

"Yes. But first your mom has to give her permission."

She turned around to her mom.

"Can I mom? You're always after me to read more. Please."

It nearly choked her to say yes.

"Leave them on your porch tomorrow morning and I'll pick them up."

"If that's the way you want it. I won't be there, I'll be at church."

The disbelief was obvious in her eyes.

"You're a church goer?"

"Does that shock you? I don't go every Sunday, but I try. You should come."

I looked over at B.B.

"You should come too. It'll give you a chance to meet some of the locals your age."

Her eyes lit up. She was starving for contact with people her age.

"Can we Mom? Please?"

She had the decency to look uncomfortable.

"Maybe later. Remember, our car is down. We couldn't go this week anyway."

She turned her eyes on me.

"Can we ride with you? You're going anyway."

I heard the sharp intake of breath in the back.

"I'd love for you to go with me, but that's something you should talk over with your mom first. Tell you what, I'll swing by your place about eight thirty. If you guys want to go, come out. If not, I'll go on."

That situation defused, I listened to her chatter all the way down the mountain.

.................................................

We just made it to the garage. Bob grumbled, but agreed to get her car and check it out Monday.

I was on my way to the grocery store when I found them. It seems that was their destination too.

The diner was still open.

"Would you ladies like to join me for dinner? You should taste their pizza, they cook them in a clay oven."

Sarah was about to say no but B.B.was literally bouncing. Seems pizza was her weakness.

"Please mom? Please, please, please? I'll do extra chores next week. Please?"

She actually relented.

"All right, if we pay."

I shook my head.

"No deal then. I invited you ladies, so the meal is on me. I will not negotiate."

I saw her temper rising, but she swallowed it. She was still giving me evil looks when we went into the diner.

Mel and Mabel were the owners. They were also twin sisters, and despite being in their late forties they sometimes still dressed alike.

Mel bustled over with menus. She took a long look at us and giggled.

"Ooh, Harry. I knew some girl would land you eventually. Is this your daughter? She has your eyes."

I smiled while mom glowered. I hadn't noticed it before, but B.B., like me, had green eyes.

"No, Mel. These are my neighbors. I told them they hadn't lived until they tasted your famous pizzas, so here we are."

I did the introductions, and B.B. turned to the menu.

"You know what I want, Mel. Large veggie, mushrooms, red onions, red bell peppers, basil and tomatoes, light on the sauce. Heavy on the garlic. Extra cheese."

She gave me a disapproving look. In her world there was something wrong with a man who didn't subsist on meat. I wasn't a vegetarian, this was just the type of pizza I liked.

B.B. looked over at me.

"Can I have what I want?"

"Isn't that what I told you when we sat down?"

Mom was about to speak but B.B. beat her.

"I want a large meat lover, double meat, double cheese, thin crust, please."

Mel was beaming.

"Good choice, child. Now, what about you?"

Sarah looked confused.

"I'll just share some of theirs."

I grinned and looked at B.B.

"I'm not sharing, I take it home and have it for breakfast in the morning. What about you?"

She gave me an understanding smile.

"Oh, no. This one is mine. I intend to eat it all tonight. Mom, looks like you're on your own."

She didn't know what to do, so she ended up ordering a medium peperoni.

"Make that a large, Mel, double the pepperoni. And a pitcher of the house special, please."

There was a local company who specialized in root beer and sasparilla soda, very good products. It even came on tap, and was a local favorite.

It looked like bock beer. I poured a small taste and handed it to B.B. Sarah went red in the face, thinking I was corrupting her daughter.

"How dare you give my daughter alcohol! What kind of place is this?"

The other diners looked over and grinned.

B.B. played it up.

"This is great, mom. Have a sip, we'll both be feeling silly."

Before she could say another word a frosted mug was thrust into her hands. The smell hit her and she tasted it. She got even angrier.

"Root beer! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never gave me a chance. Did you seriously think I would give a child alcohol, especially in a public place? You have issues, anybody ever tell you that?"

She sulked until the pizzas came out. The double meat pizza looked like it was about six inches tall with the toppings. B.B. was actually drooling. Mel told me later she put two hundred pepperoni slices on the one for Sarah, and extra cheese. Mine was the only average looking one in the bunch.

The way B.B. attacked that pizza was definitely unladylike. Sarah ate three pieces, while I had only two. B.B. was about to go for her fourth slice when I made her stop.

"Don't eat that! Leave room for dessert."

Her eyes got big. She started drooling again.

"Do you like chocolate?"

"Does Justin Beiber use hair products? Chocolate is my favorite."

I didn't give Sarah a choice, and got three of the house specials.

Large, triple chocolate brownies with caramel sauce and nuts, served hot with whipped cream and a small bowl of vanilla ice cream on the side. I thought B.B. was actually going to cry. I grinned.

"Now you know why I only had two slices. Enjoy!"

They both gave valiant efforts, but could only get half down. I ordered another each to go, and had the leftover pizza boxed. I think B.B. was actually waddling when we got to the grocery store.

"Thank you."

I couldn't believe what I heard.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

She darkened up.

"I said thank you. B.B. really enjoyed tonight. I did too."

It sounded like she would rather have had an root canal than admit it.

"You're welcome. I had a good time too. You really should let her go to church tomorrow. She needs kids her own age around her."

The friendliness was gone.

"I'll decide what's best for my daughter. The rest is none of your business."

I just looked at her.

"As you wish."

She didn't speak to me again, but B.B. was bubbly.

She talked nonstop all the way back up the mountain. When we pulled in the drive she gave me a big hug. I saw Sarahs' face freeze in hard lines.

"Thanks, H.H.! I'm gonna have pizza for breakfast too."

"Your welcome, baby. Maybe we can do it again sometime. Go on in the house, now. I want to speak to your mother."

She looked between me and her mom, gave a sigh, and went into the house.

She glared at me. "What?!"

I waited a second, hoping she would calm down.

"I need to tell you something. I'm not him."

"Him who?"

"Your husband. Neither is any other man on this planet. Don't tar and feather us all because you ended up with a world class asshole. Believe it or not, we have no interest in hurting you. You could actually be friends with some of us, if you'd calm down. Get your ass off your shoulders, or your head out of your ass, or whatever contortionist trick you're using to keep reality away, because it's not good for you. Or your daughter."

"You got shit on. I understand it. My ex wife paid to have me murdered. Screwed the guy, too, to seal the deal. I got shot. Nearly died. I'll show you the scars sometime. That doesn't mean I think every woman I meet has a hit out on me. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and think about your daughter. End of rant."

She was quivering, she was so angry.

"Thank you so much for your concern, but I'll decide what's best for me and my child. Good night!"

She stormed inside and slammed the door.

Oddly, I was in a good mood the rest of the night.

..................................................

She must have a change of heart, because they were both on the porch waiting when I pulled up the next morning. And they both looked very nice in their dresses. I complimented them. B.B. was in such a good mood she let her mom sit in the front. I was telling them about the church as we drove.

"I don't know what religion or denomination you are, but this is a Baptist church. About half the congregation are black, as well as the reverend. There's just not enough of us to have two churches. The only alternative is going all the way into town. They're good people, they'll make you welcome."

When we got out I slipped B.B. a ten for the collection plate. I assumed they had money, hadn't really thought about it. I just wanted to make her comfortable.

We were there a little early, so they got a handshake and a hug from everyone, especially the preacher. He had a daughter close in age to B.B., and he introduced her. They seemed to hit it off. Soon they were clustered with three more girls in the same age group, one black and two white, whispering, giggling, exchanging email, Facebook, and phone information. It was a good sign. I noticed a few young boys, checking out the new girl.

That left Sarah with me. I bet she was about ready to kill the next person who asked if she was my new wife, but she smiled and made an effort to be friendly.

It got interesting when Sunday school was called. B.B. disappeared with her new friends, while Sarah and I sat with young adults, singles and married. Our teacher was a new age type of woman, we didn't discuss scriptures, but how to hold relationships together, how to deal with grief, adversity, and temptations. How to follow the rules of Christianity in the real world. The discussion was quite animated at times.

Sarah got really quiet, but suddenly spoke up about temptations and forgiveness.

"Sometimes, despite everything you do, you fail. Sometimes love and forgiveness just isn't enough. Sometimes you just have to give up, and recognize things don't always work out. What do you do then?"

She was crying.

Three women went into a huddle, hugging her and talking softly. Then they prayed, and even Sarah bowed her head. When she raised her head, it was the first time I saw her without traces of bitterness and anger on her face. It made her look quite beautiful.

The lesson was over, and there was a ten minute break so everyone could restore circulation. B.B. found us, and begged to be allowed to sit with her new friends.

"Promise me you'll behave. The first time I hear giggling I'll get up right in the middle of the service and get you. Understand?"

The bell rang and we went back into the church. Sarah made sure we sat behind B.B. and her new friends, to keep an eye on them.

The preacher welcomed every one, including visitors. He called them out by name.

"And please make welcome Sarah and B.B., guests of Harry. Only our Harry could live in the middle of nowhere and show up with two lovely ladies. Thank you for bringing them. And welcome to our family."

He was a typical black Baptist preacher, thundering hells fire and damnation one minute, speaking in a whisper about love and forgiveness the next, breaking into song without taking a breath. In all the years he served that church, I don't think anyone ever went to sleep during one of his services.

The biggest surprise of the day was when we sang the first hymn, and the soprano voice of an angel echoed in the chapel. Everyone looked to see who it was.