That Summer Thing

“Hey! Be careful with the bag. There are eggs inside,” Charlie said as the teen tossed a paper sack of groceries into the truck as if it was a bag of garbage.

By the time they were ready to leave, Nathan’s squinty-eyed frown had become a stubborn scowl. Charlie was losing patience. “Look, I realize this is earlier than you’re used to getting up—”

“No kidding.”

Charlie ignored the sarcasm. “But we only have two days to spend on the houseboat. If we wait until noon to go out, we’ll miss the best part of Saturday. You do want to take the houseboat on the river, don’t you?”

The only response Nathan gave was a grunt, but to Charlie it sounded like a positive grunt, which he took as a good sign.

“It should be a perfect weekend to be on the river,” Charlie said cheerfully. “If it gets as hot as they’re predicting, you’ll be able to swim right off the back of the boat.”

Mention of the houseboat had Nathan’s scowl softening, although he was reluctant to let Charlie see. He turned away, bunching his sweatshirt into a ball and propping it between his head and the window to use as a pillow.

Charlie didn’t say anything, but continued driving. It was hard to believe that this disgruntled teen with the streak of blue in his hair and the gold ring through his nose was the same clean-cut kid he had been a surrogate parent to for the past four years. What had happened to the even-tempered, happy-go-lucky Nathan?

His grandfather blamed it on the group of boys Nathan called his friends, but his grandmother insisted the moodiness had more to do with puberty. Charlie could see the obvious signs of adolescence. Nathan’s voice had changed, he’d grown four inches in four months, and it wouldn’t be long before a razor would be needed to take off the light coating of peach fuzz on his chin. Charlie was inclined to think they were probably both right, but suspected the boy’s rebellious behavior also had a lot to do with losing his mother.

After several minutes of jostling and fidgeting, Nathan said, “I don’t see why I couldn’t have taken a shower before we left.”

A shower? This from the kid who had barely raised a wet cloth to his face, let alone taken a shower, the last time he’d stayed with Charlie.

“We’re going down the river, not to the video arcade,” Charlie answered. “It’ll be like that camping trip we took last summer. Remember? Guys are allowed to be slobs on camping and fishing trips, as long as there aren’t any women around.”

His reasoning brought another sound of disgust from his temporary ward. “I hate that stupid judge. If it weren’t for him, I’d be home in my own bed.”

It bothered Charlie that Nathan didn’t want to be with him in Riverbend. In the past he’d complained about there never being enough time for the two of them to be together. Now that the judge had ordered him to spend six weeks in Riverbend, Nathan acted as if it was a punishment, not a reprieve.

Maybe that was why Charlie’s voice was a bit harsh as he said, “You’re wrong, Nathan. The reason you’re not home is that you chose to use someone else’s property for target practice.”

“I said I didn’t try to break those windows, but nobody believed me. Just because I hang out with the BDs, everyone wants to think I’m a juvenile delinquent,” he muttered sullenly.

“Who are the BDs?”

“What do you care?”

“Because I’m your buddy. Or have you forgotten?”

That took a bit of the sting out of his attitude. “They’re the bad dudes.”

Charlie frowned. “And you’re one of them?”

“I want to be. And I was just getting to where they would accept me when you had to drag me here.”

“I didn’t drag you here,” Charlie refuted. “You were ordered here by the judge because of something you did, not because of what I did. And I really don’t think being in a gang is a good idea.”

“They’re not a gang, just some guys who hang around together. They’re my friends and they’d do anything for me. I can count on them.” The defensiveness in his tone made Charlie uneasy.

“You can count on me,” he said firmly.

Nathan gave a snort of disbelief. “That’s why you’re making me get up with the cows.”

“You mean chickens,” Charlie said, trying to inject a little humor into their discussion.

Again Nathan turned toward the door and tried to position his head against his makeshift pillow. Charlie gave him his space and kept quiet.

That didn’t stop him from thinking about the teenager. Had he made a mistake sticking his neck out to help the kid? When he’d left for West Lafayette yesterday morning, he hadn’t expected to be returning with the fourteen year old in tow. It was one thing to have Nathan spend two weeks with him; quite another to have him spend half the summer.

Ever since Nathan had gone to live with his grandparents, distance had prohibited them from spending much time together. Until yesterday Charlie had thought that they had a pretty good relationship. Now he could see that the two of them had grown apart, and it saddened him, because at one time they had been like father and son.

As the truck ate up the miles, Charlie thought back to those days. He had just turned thirty, and at his surprise birthday party he’d been warned by his friends that the big three-O could cause a man to change his entire way of thinking.

Charlie had laughed and told them how wrong they all were. The reason he was still single and doing all right was that he worked hard Monday through Friday and made the most of his weekend playtime. The latter had been accomplished mainly with women who weren’t looking for the house with the picket fence, two kids and a dog.

But shortly after his birthday he’d found himself reflecting on his life and came to the conclusion that something was missing. Although he wasn’t about to change his life-style, he did want to do something different. When one of his friends mentioned that the local Big Brothers program was having trouble finding volunteers, Charlie decided to answer the call.

He could still remember that first day he’d met Nathan. He’d expected that things would be awkward, that Nathan would be a bit reserved, maybe defensive about not having a father. He wasn’t. He was just like any other kid and reminded Charlie of himself at that age. So full of energy. So eager to learn everything he could about the world around him. Unlike Charlie, who’d had a great relationship with his father, Nathan had never known his dad.

They soon became best buddies, and before long, Nathan’s mother, Amy, joined them on their outings. They were the closest thing to a family that Nathan had ever known, and it wasn’t long before he was asking Charlie if he could call him Dad. Charlie saw no reason he couldn’t, for he truly did feel like a father to Nathan.

Charlie knew that Nathan harbored the hope that one day he would marry his mother and become his real father. For Charlie, who’d never expected to entertain such a thought, it had come as a shock when he’d realized Nathan’s idea wasn’t so outrageous. He had no reason not to believe that, in time, he and Amy might find happiness together.

But then one night Nathan called to tell him his mother was sick—real sick. Charlie went over to see what was wrong. It didn’t take a doctor to see that she was seriously ill. He rushed her to the hospital, where she died two days later from bacterial meningitis.

In the blink of an eye, everything changed. Nathan’s grandparents became his legal guardians and took him home with them to West Lafayette. Charlie knew that Amy’s folks were good people and would give Nathan the kind of family he needed—something he couldn’t do without Amy.

Charlie vowed to remain a part of Nathan’s life, acting as a father figure whenever he could. Which wasn’t often. Construction was booming in Riverbend, forcing everyone at Callahan Construction to work long hours.

No matter how hard Charlie tried to make his visits with Nathan special, he could feel the bond between them weakening. Nathan no longer had that childlike eagerness in his voice when they talked, and gone was his enthusiasm for “hanging out” in Riverbend.

Charlie glanced at the boy beside him and felt a wave of guilt. He hadn’t kept his promise to Amy. He’d let work and the fact they lived in different towns keep him from being the father figure he should have been. Maybe the judge’s ruling was exactly what they both needed to put their relationship back on track, to help them reestablish the bond that had allowed Nathan to call him Dad.

“We’re here,” Charlie announced as the truck came to a stop next to the pier where the Queen Mary was docked. Dawn was brightening the sky, changing it from darkness to deep purple, which was the precursor to a beautiful sunrise. Charlie hoped nature’s beauty would lighten Nathan’s mood.

It didn’t.

As the boy awoke from his nap, he said, “Why couldn’t we just stay home?”

Charlie had to bite his tongue. “What do you think of that sky?” He nodded toward the horizon. “Isn’t that a beaut?”

“‘Red sky in morning, sailors take warning,’” Nathan recited ominously.

Charlie said, “We’re not sailors. We’ll have a roof over our heads should it rain, and an engine to get us to shore.”

Nathan mumbled something under his breath as he fumbled with his seat belt.

“There she is. The Queen Mary,” Charlie boasted as they climbed out of the pickup. “How’s that for a floating palace?”

Nathan shrugged. “It’s all right, I guess.”

Charlie knew the boat was more than all right, no matter what the surly teenager thought. “Come on. The sooner we get this stuff onboard, the sooner we’ll be cruising on the river,” he said, lifting a duffel bag from the back of the truck.

Emptying the truck caused less grumbling than loading it had, giving Charlie hope that even a teenager wasn’t immune to the lure of the river. They left the fishing rods and tackle box on the deck, then carried their duffel bags and groceries into the main cabin. Nathan said nothing other than to heave a sigh when Charlie told him where to set the food.

Although the teenager tried to pretend he wasn’t impressed by the comforts on board the boat, Charlie didn’t miss the way Nathan eyed the entertainment center. “Not bad for a prison, eh?”

The teenager shrugged. “If you’d told me there was a TV, I would have brought my video games along.”

“We’re going to be too busy having fun. We won’t have time for TV.” Charlie didn’t mention that he’d already decided to rent a Nintendo and some other games after the weekend.

“Who listens to this crap?” Nathan asked, lifting a CD case from the entertainment center.

Charlie glanced at the Enya CD. “It’s not mine. Must have been Abraham Steele’s or one of his guests’. Now make yourself useful and put away those groceries, while I get the boat ready.”

Nathan wandered over to the captain’s console. He plunked himself down on the chair and examined the controls. “Am I going to be able to drive?”

“I may let you take the wheel once we’re away from the dock,” Charlie answered, pulling the cord that opened the blue draperies across the front of the boat.

“How far up the river are we going?”

“Here. I’ll show you.” Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is a marine map. Shows all the hazards on this section of the river. It’s important that we keep it handy at all times.”

He spread the map out on the console, noting the way Nathan studied it curiously. It was the first time the kid had actually shown any interest in their adventure. Maybe it would turn out to be a good weekend, after all, Charlie thought.

“We’re going to stop right about here,” he told Nathan, pointing to a hook in the river. “As soon as you’ve put away the groceries, I’ll give you a lesson in navigation, all right?”

Again the shoulders shifted, but the hostility was gone from the teenager’s face. “Can I use the bathroom, or do I have to wait until the engine’s running?”

“No, go ahead. Flush away,” Charlie told him, indicating the door to the head. While Nathan was inside, Charlie checked the fuel gauge and water supply.

He was on his knees connecting a wire that had come loose on the control panel when he heard Nathan say, “Your girlfriend left something in the bathroom.”

Charlie straightened. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” From the silly smile on Nathan’s face, he knew that it was something the teen found amusing.

He went to see for himself. A bright red bra hung on the doorknob. The first thought that crossed Charlie’s mind was that Mitch Sterling had had a woman onboard when he’d used the boat last week.

“Well, that sly old…” he began, then noticed Nathan’s rapt attention. “Must be from a previous guest,” Charlie said, snatching the bra from the doorknob and shoving it into the vanity drawer. “Follow me.”

He opened the door to the master bedroom and tossed his duffel bag onto the bed. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Where do I sleep?” Nathan asked.

“You have two options. One is the cuddy below. There are two beds down there. It’s private, though a little cramped. The other is to use the sofa bed.”

Nathan looked at the white leather sofa. “You mean it’s one of those you pull out and have to make every night?”

Charlie nodded. “You’d probably be more comfortable below.” Nathan glanced down the stairway. “It is rather dark down there. The windows are more like portholes.”

He could see the boy considering the possibilities—downstairs in the cuddy with little natural light, or on a sofa in the salon with a big-screen TV. He had no doubt that the teenager would opt for the sofa. That way he could watch television as he lay in bed.

“I’ll sleep up here,” he said sullenly, as if it was a sacrifice to sleep on a sofa bed.

“All right. That’s fine with me. Now get that food in the refrigerator and I’ll prepare us for departure. We need to disconnect the shore cable and switch over to the generator before we leave.”

Nathan shoved cans into the cupboard, acting as if putting away the groceries was some sort of penance. Charlie left him alone and went off to tend to the tasks that needed to be done before launching the boat.

A short while later he announced, “We’re ready. We can either navigate from in here or go up to the flybridge. What do you think?”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Then we’ll go up to the flybridge.” Charlie headed for the steps leading to the upper portion of the houseboat. Nathan followed.

Once on top, Charlie stood behind the control panel. “We’ll crank this baby’s engine and get moving.” He turned the key in the ignition, producing a low hum.

“It’s pretty quiet, isn’t it?” Nathan said as the engine sprang to life.

“She purrs like a kitten,” Charlie agreed. “You ready?” Nathan nodded and Charlie slowly maneuvered the boat away from the dock.

The sky had become a vivid pink, thanks to the dawn’s paintbrush. “See what I mean about the sunrise?” Charlie commented as the sky’s resplendent colors reflected on the river’s surface.

“It’s kinda spooky. It’s almost like the air is painted pink,” Nathan said, losing his insolence long enough to be a bit awed by nature.

Charlie understood his sentiment. “When I’m in a boat this time of morning, I feel a little bit like I’m on a mystical journey. Better enjoy the show before it disappears. It’s already starting to fade.”

“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat?”

Charlie smiled. Beneath the streaked blue hair and nose ring lurked a regular kid. “As soon as we get to our fishing spot, we’ll anchor and I’ll cook us some breakfast. Until then, why don’t you go down and get yourself a doughnut and a glass of milk?”

“I’d rather have a soda and some chips.”

“Whatever,” Charlie mumbled, and watched the boy disappear into the cabin. His last thought as the blue head bobbed out of sight was that it was going to be a long six weeks. A very long six weeks.

BETH WASN’T SURE what woke her. Maybe it was the sound of a motor humming in the background. One of the neighbors mowing the lawn perhaps. As she opened her eyes, however, she realized that she wasn’t in her own bed or even in one of her brother’s. She was on the houseboat. Her houseboat.

And it was swaying ever so slightly, something her brother had told her wouldn’t happen. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing ever so carefully, worried that she might experience a bit of motion sickness. To her relief she didn’t.

Thinking the wind must be responsible for the slight sway of the boat, she reached for the curtain behind the bed and pulled it aside to look out the rectangular porthole. To her surprise, there was a rather large expanse of river between her and the shore. She padded across the room to the opposite side of the boat and lifted the curtain on the other narrow window.

A gasp escaped her as she realized that the boat was no longer at the pier. Had the wind become so strong that it had broken loose from its moorings? Suddenly her brain put two and two together. The hum of an engine, no pier in sight. The boat was moving!

Her heart beating rapidly, she scrambled up the steps to the salon. Seated on the white leather sofa with the TV remote in his hand was a teenage boy. He wore baggy carpenter jeans and his shirt was open, revealing an expanse of flesh. He was at the gawky stage—caught somewhere between man and child—with long, lanky limbs and an awkwardness only time would eliminate.

“Who are you and why is this boat moving?” Beth demanded.

He looked as surprised by her appearance as she was by his. “I’m Nathan. What are you doing on my dad’s boat?”

His dad’s boat? “This is not your father’s boat. It’s my boat and I don’t know what makes you think you can just take off with it.”

“We didn’t know you were on it,” he said weakly, then, gaining his courage, added, “You shouldn’t be on it. It belongs to my dad.”

Fear caused Beth’s skin to prickle. “I’m going to get my cell phone and call the police. You just can’t get on someone else’s houseboat and take it for a ride.” She was about to head back down to the cuddy when she heard a man’s voice.

“Nathan, I could use your help. Come on out here.”

The voice was vaguely familiar. Beth’s stomach plunged. “What’s your father’s name?”

Before the boy could answer, the man called out, “Nathan! Did you hear me? Get out here. Now!”

When the boy would have moved, Beth raised a hand and used her schoolteacher voice to say, “You stay right here and answer my question. What is your father’s name?”

“You’re going to be in big trouble, lady, when my dad finds out you stowed away on his boat,” the teenager said, getting bolder by the minute. “This is private property and…” He stopped, his eyes on the sliding door behind her.

By now Beth’s heart was in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty, then turned to see a man step into the cabin. He was big, brawny and bare-chested. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and his jaw was un-shaven.

Beth didn’t need the boy to tell her his father’s name. It was Charlie Callahan, her ex-husband, looking lean, tanned and even more attractive than he had fifteen years ago.

She had often thought about what they would say to each other when they did finally meet again. Now she knew. There was no, “Hello, Beth, how are you?” No, “It’s good to see you.”

The first words out of Charlie’s mouth were angrily uttered. “What the hell are you doing here?”

CHAPTER THREE

CHARLIE HAD EXPECTED the day would come when he’d meet Beth again. What he hadn’t foreseen was the turmoil of emotion it would create in him. Seeing her standing in front of him, looking as if she’d just crawled out of bed, made him feel as if someone had given him a stiff punch to the gut.

She looked as shocked to see him as he was to see her. Folding her arms across her chest, she demanded, “What do you mean, what am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Before Charlie could answer her question, Nathan stepped forward. “I tried to tell her it’s your boat, Dad, but she wouldn’t listen. She must have stowed away in the cuddy.”

Charlie didn’t miss the fact that he had once more become “Dad” to the teenager. Or that Nathan showed signs of a vivid imagination. He was looking at Beth as if she could be someone on the run.

“I’m not a stowaway. This happens to be my boat,” Beth stated in a tone that left no doubt that she didn’t appreciate Nathan’s implication that she’d done something illegal.

Nathan looked at Charlie. “Her boat? I thought you said this was your boat.”

“It is—at least, half of it is. The other half is Beth’s. Nathan, this is Beth. Beth, Nathan.” He made the introduction as brief as possible, hoping to avoid the questions that would result if Nathan learned Beth was his ex-wife.

He’d never told the teenager he’d been married. There’d never been any reason to, and until just a few moments ago, it had been a nonissue in his life. Four weeks of marriage hardly qualified as a treasured memory. His summer thing with Beth—which was how his buddies had referred to it—felt as if it had happened in another lifetime.

Only now he was reminded that it had happened. He watched Nathan extend his hand to her, revealing the manners Amy had instilled in him as a child. “How do you do.”

Beth took his hand cautiously, eyeing Charlie suspiciously as she returned Nathan’s greeting.

“You haven’t told me what you’re doing here,” Charlie said to her, trying not to notice that, instead of short curls, her dark hair now hung in long kinky waves that fell to her shoulders in a rather tantalizing way.

“Obviously the same thing you’re doing—using my property.”

He didn’t care for the tone of her voice. Or the fact that he was responding to her scantily clad body. She wore skimpy pajamas made to resemble a T-shirt and shorts—very short shorts. Although she was still slender, there were curves that hadn’t been there fifteen years ago. She’d filled out in all the right places, and Charlie had to force his eyes away from her figure to her face.

She moved over to the windows and asked, “Where’s the pier?”

“In Riverbend.”

“We’re moving?” She pressed a hand to her stomach.

“No, we’re anchored.”

“This boat is supposed to be docked at Riverbend. You had no right to take it—or me—anywhere,” she said haughtily.

“Do you honestly think I would have taken it anywhere if I’d known you were onboard?” he countered. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Ed’s place?”

“Because his guest room is occupied. Grace’s parents are here for the weekend.”

“So you came here to sleep?” he asked in disbelief.

“And why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“You’re not exactly crazy about the water.”

“It didn’t feel as if I was on the water when the boat was moored at the marina. Are you sure we’re anchored?” she asked, her hand flying to her midsection once more.

“We are.” She looked unusually pale, prompting Charlie to ask, “You’re not going to be sick, are you?”

“No, but I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.” She left in a hurry, slamming the door as she disappeared into the head.

“What’s she doing on a houseboat if she gets seasick?” Nathan asked.

“She said she wasn’t sick,” Charlie answered.

“She looked like she was gonna hurl.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charlie said, although he really wasn’t sure of anything concerning Beth at this point in his life. When several minutes had passed and she still hadn’t emerged from the head, he went over to the door and knocked. “Beth, are you okay in there?”

“Yes.” The response was muffled. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“For Pete’s sake, Charlie, I said yes, didn’t I?” she snapped.

Maybe she’d changed physically, but emotionally she was still the same old Beth, hating it whenever anyone showed concern for her. She still didn’t want to admit that she needed anybody.