The summer continued to fly by. Mary Clare hadn’t seen Jesse in weeks. He had been traveling for work. When he was in town, he spent the time with his father. Meanwhile, she helped her mother pack up the house. Henry asked about Jesse now and again, but mostly he was having the summer of his life with his cousins.

One afternoon, Mary Clare decided to hang out on the old hammock on the porch and relive the summers of her past. The memories flooded over her. It was hard to imagine that in a few weeks someone else would be living in this house. Another child would be in her room. Henry spent more time at his cousins’ than he had at her childhood home. Mary Clare was busy getting ready for the start of the school year and all that was left to do was find an affordable apartment. She had scheduled an appointment later this afternoon to check on an upstairs apartment in town.

The back screen door creaked open. She looked up from the math book in her hand. She was going to substitute teach algebra and geometry. She was relieved they didn’t throw her into calculus her first year. First year. Was she really thinking beyond this one year? Would she be staying in Mills Crossing indefinitely?

Her mother came outside to water the geraniums. She stepped back and looked at them thoughtfully. “I suppose I should give up on caring for the plants soon. Doesn’t make sense if they’re not going with me.” Her mother set the metal watering can—the one with a rusted spout—on the wide porch railing. Twisting her hands, she sat on the wicker seat across from Mary Clare. “Maybe I can rent a house. For all of us.”

Mary Clare tipped her head, studying her mother. “No, Mom. We’ve already been through this. Henry and I will be fine.”

Her mother ran her hand over her hair. “But what are you and Henry going to do in a little apartment?” She worried her lower lip.

“We’ll be able to walk to school. To shops. It’ll be great.”

Her mother scrunched up her face. “You won’t have a yard. You’ll be able to hear your neighbors through the wall.”

Mary Clare touched her mother’s arm. “That’s what I can afford. It’ll be fine.”

Her mother’s eyes sparked angry, the way they did whenever she mentioned her ex. “Has Chip paid you what he owes you?”

Mary Clare lifted her hand. “Enough, Mom. My lawyer is working things out. I can’t live my life angry with him.” She also sensed he was falling into line after her threat to air their dirty laundry. Questionable financial dealings would hurt his business—and his pride.

“I suppose you have a point.” Her mother stood and swatted Mary Clare’s knee. “You’re a better person than I am.” She smiled brightly. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Her mother gave her a strange smile. “Dad and I had a great marriage, but every so often when I was knee-deep in laundry and running dance carpool, I wondered ‘what if.’ Not always, mind you. But I wondered what if I had a career or had done something different. I know you didn’t plan for your life to turn out this way, but I’m a firm believer that sometimes things work out the way they were meant to be. And I guess if I was hard on you, I just wanted what was best for you.”

“I know, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Her mother opened the screen door and slipped back inside.

Mary Clare stared at the dusty screen door long after her mom left. Oh, how far Mary Clare—and her mother—had come over one short summer.

Heavy footsteps on the back porch snapped Mary Clare out of her deep thoughts. Henry flopped down on the hammock next to her, sending the math book flying. “Can I go over to Zach’s?”

“Aunt Amanda needs a break.” Mary Clare had been saying that all summer to no avail. She did try to reciprocate, but with all the packing and sorting going on at her mother’s house, it made more sense that the cousins play down the street.

As if anticipating that, Henry shoved the phone at her. “Talk to her. She likes when I come over.”

Mary Clare sighed and grabbed the phone. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” her sister-in-law said. “Just send him down with two eggs. I don’t feel like running to the store.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Mary Clare ended the call, and sent Zach on his way with the eggs and a warning to be careful and polite and to not overstay his welcome.

Then she went upstairs to start pulling things out of her childhood closet for Goodwill or packing. Her cell phone chimed in her purse on the dresser. She ran to it, eager for an excuse to stop what she was doing. The screen displayed Jesse’s number. She stared at it for a moment before lifting the phone to her ear.

“Hey.” Jesse’s voice sounded low, gruff.

Her heart immediately leapt to her throat. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was high-pitched in her ears.

“It’s my dad.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Pinpricks of panic raced across her skin. She knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

“My dad passed away sometime during the night.”

Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t find her voice. A tear tracked down her cheek. “I’m sorry.” She wanted to ask a million questions. “What can I do for you?”

“Come over. I don’t want to be alone.”

Mary Clare nodded. “I’ll be right there.” She ended the call. Her mouth grew dry and she wondered if her trembling legs would support her.

* * *

A short time later, Mary Clare found herself on Jesse’s front stoop. She heard the TV through the screen door. She opened it and stepped into the cramped space. “Jesse.”

“In here.” He cleared his throat.

The trailer was warm and stuffy. She pulled the curtain back covering the open window near the TV to allow the air to circulate. She stopped in front of him. On the table next to Jesse, three beer bottles were lined up in a neat row. “Let me make you some coffee.” She’d be better if she was doing something. She didn’t know how to face this grief head-on. It was too palpable.

Lazily, he lifted his hand. “No. Beer’s fine.”

Staring at him under the muted light in the trailer, she sat in the recliner across from him.

He pointed at her. “That’s my father’s chair.”

She scooted forward. “I’m sorry.”

He lowered his hooded eyes. “You’re fine.” He had a distant look in his eyes.

Mary Clare traced the worn edges of his father’s chair.

Jesse ran a hand under his nose. “His doctor said it was probably a heart attack in his sleep.” Jesse shrugged.

She thought she detected a trace of a quiver in his bottom lip. She wanted to go to him, comfort him, but imagined the impenetrable, huge wall around his heart. She didn’t know how to break through it.

“Can you imagine? We’re preparing for him to die a slow death, losing more memories each day. And then this.” He took a long swig of his beer. “Better way to go, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.” A soft breeze blew in through the open window, moving the stagnant air. “Where’s Lynne?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “She’s with her family. Her husband. Her kids. She wanted me to come over, but I wasn’t into a big scene.”

“Don’t you have to make arrangements?”

“Done. My father had been very specific in what he wanted. He let us know years ago.”

“I’m glad you called me.”

A dark shadow haunted his eyes. “Don’t you feel lucky?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

His words pierced her heart. He was drunk. She finally forced herself to stand and cross over to him. She sat on the couch next to him, their thighs brushing.

Surprising her, he reached over and took her hand in both of his. “You had the right idea to get out of town after college. There’s nothing here anymore. This place sucks.” A long silence stretched between them while a rerun of some show played on the television. “My dad didn’t want a funeral service. I promised him before he got really bad. He knew one day he wouldn’t be able to make his own decisions, so he was very clear about his wishes. He wanted his ashes spread over the pond.”

“That sounds nice,” she said, for lack of anything better to say.

“Nice? Fishing is nice.” Jesse shook his head. “Being fed to the fish…”

“Come on. You’ve had too much to drink.” She reached across him to grab his beer and he caught her wrist.

“I’m not done with that.”

“Please, let me make you coffee.”

“Not yet.” He stared at her intensely and reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. His fingers sent a trail of awareness across her skin. “Thanks for coming over. I missed you.” His words were slightly slurred. “I wanted to be honest with you because you seemed to be all honest with me when you told me you were staying in Mills Crossing. I’m not sure why you told me, because you knew I was leaving. That I had a job and place to live in California.”

“That’s not why.”

“Then why?” He sounded angry.

“Because I’m sick of secrets, that’s all.”

He rubbed his whiskered jaw roughly, as if trying to clear his head. “Well, I’m going to be honest with you. I’m going to get rid of this horrible trailer and I’m going out west full time. Grow the business. Forget about the sad life my dad lived here in this miserable trailer.”

“Your dad was a good man. He did what he had to do for his kids.” She patted his thigh and he placed his hand on hers, trapping it. “You’re grieving. You’ll see clearly when some time has passed.” She pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “And when you’re not drunk.”

“My dad was a good guy.”

“I really liked him.”

Jesse smiled for the first time since she walked through the door. He cupped her cheek as she rested her head on his shoulder. “He was fond of you, too. He always seemed to know who you were.”

Jesse’s girl. Mary Clare’s gaze drifted around the small space. “Maybe you shouldn’t be quick to sell this place.”

Jesse smirked. “My parents didn’t even want this place. It was supposed to be a temporary home until they built their dream one.” He pulled back a bit to see her face. His eyelids drooped. “Not everyone gets to have a dream come true.”

A hollowness expanded in her chest, crushing her lungs. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Pressing his lips together, he shook his head. “And I regret traveling these last few weeks. I should have been here with my dad.”

“You did what you thought best.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “You were planning for your father’s future.”

Jesse drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Or I was making an excuse to get out of here.”

“You loved your father. He knew that.”

“I should have been here.”

“Don’t beat yourself up.”

He laughed bitterly. “It’s what I do best.”

“Why don’t you get some rest?” He could sleep off the effects of the alcohol.

Jesse held out his hand and she took it. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Stay with me.” He breathed into her neck.

She swallowed hard. He smelled like aftershave, soap and a hint of barley. “You’re drunk.”

His glassy eyes widened. “Am not.”

“You are, too.” She smiled. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

He waggled his eyebrows. She guided him to his room. He lay down on his full-sized bed that took most of the space in his small room. She plumped the pillow under his head. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down. He kissed her full on the mouth. She froze for a second and then acquiesced. He tasted good. She always liked the taste of beer on a man’s tongue.

He ran his hand along the hem of her shirt and skimmed the edge of her shorts. His fingers left a trail of warmth and tingles. It took a lot of will, but she reached behind her and pulled his hand away and managed to stand.

Jesse’s firm grasp held her wrist. He smiled at her. “Oh, come on.”

She tried to glare at him, but found herself smiling. “Boy, you know how to seduce a girl.”

“Never heard any complaints before.” He sniffed and watched her for a moment. She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. “Just lie next to me, then. I don’t want to be alone.”

Mary Clare bit her lower lip. Without saying another word, she lay next to him on top of the covers, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and seemed to relax.

A few hours later, she slipped out of Jesse’s bed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He barely stirred. She left him a note on the kitchen counter to call if he ever needed anything. She knew he wouldn’t.

Their relationship had run its course.

Their summer of fun had ended on a very sad note. But she and her son were better people for having had Jesse in their lives.