Under An Adirondack Sky

“Show it to me.”

Aiden reached around his brother’s back and grasped his thin arm. They scrabbled and grabbed, pushed and yanked.

“Let go of me!”

“Stop being an—”

“Is everything all right?” called a familiar voice. Aiden’s teeth ground. Of course Rebecca would appear at the worst moment. She needed to see the times he and Connor played cards, watched an action show, went to a ball game—only Aiden couldn’t remember the last time they’d done any of those things. Not in a long, long time.

His brother spun away, panting, and crossed his arms, hiding the hand Aiden needed to see. How badly was he burned? Faces appeared in the window behind Rebecca and a girl around Connor’s age rushed outside to join them.

“What happened?” repeated Rebecca. A breeze whispered through the trees and tossed blond strands against her high cheekbones. Her blue eyes darkened as they flicked between him and Connor.

“What’s up with your arm?” asked the girl. She marched to Connor, her black braids swishing across narrow shoulders clad in a T-shirt with some kind of Japanese symbol he’d seen Connor wear. “Let me see it, idiot.”

Rebecca stepped near. “Connor, you need to show us.”

He shrugged, but allowed the women to cluck over him as they examined his hand. Aiden stepped closer and peered over Rebecca’s shoulder.

From the wrist down, Connor’s hoodie hung tattered and burned, but his skin looked only pink. Relief swept through Aiden.

“How did you—I don’t—why aren’t you burned?” blurted Aiden. He glanced at the smoking grill, then met Rebecca’s wide eyes.

“I pulled the sleeve over my hand before I grabbed the handle.”

“You should have let me take care of that,” Aiden growled, his fear morphing into anger.

“You weren’t doing anything,” Connor spat. “Like always.” His eyes filled with the usual disapproval he had for everything Aiden said or did. Hard to believe that his brother had once looked up to him. Made him feel like a hero. When had that changed? A pang of regret twisted Aiden’s gut.

“I was looking for something safe. I have more experience with grease fires than you.”

The girl’s head snapped around and she whistled as she stared at the smoking grill. Heat radiated off the metal and bent the air around it.

“Yeah. Right,” scoffed Connor. One side of his upper lip rose. “Daniel burns his grilled cheese sandwich almost every night.”

“What? Daniel doesn’t make himself a grilled cheese.”

“That’s what you think.”

Aiden opened and closed his mouth. Before she’d gotten married, Mary Ann had watched the kids at night. Now, he depended on Connor. Big mistake. His littlest brother working the stove? Not acceptable.

“We’d better get you inside and put on some burn cream. Let’s save this discussion for later,” coaxed Rebecca, giving Connor a winsome smile. “Would you like to come inside with me?”

“No.”

Her mouth didn’t move or droop. If anything, she looked more aggressively cheerful than ever. “Why not, Connor?”

How do people speak and smile at the same time? Aiden wondered. Was that something they taught you in psychology school?

“Because we need to get the burgers.”

Aiden rolled his eyes. Enough was enough. “Go in the house, Connor.”

Ignoring him, the teen turned back to the grill and reached for the handle again.

“Are you insane?” Aiden swatted his brother’s hand away, donned a mitt and opened the hood. Thick gray smoke billowed out and they all coughed.

“Need some help out there?” called Marty Sikes from the kitchen window.

“Under control, Marty, thanks.” Aiden waved at the older man and turned back to the charred meat. “Those aren’t edible.”

“Someone will eat them,” muttered Connor. He grabbed a spatula and the girl elbowed Aiden aside and held out a platter.

“Respect. Personal space, Tameya,” coaxed Rebecca, her eyes flashing a gentle warning.

“Thanks, Tameya,” Connor said, without looking her in the eye, his cheeks turning blotchy, his posture tense and self-conscious. Did he like this girl?

“I promise you, I’m so hungry I could eat this hockey puck.” Tameya laughed, then held a hand over her mouth, covering her braces, which had gleamed silver in the dimming light. Connor’s lips twitched up and Aiden and Rebecca exchanged a long look.

Without thinking, he returned her small smile, then remembered how much he hated being here.

“Dinner!” chorused a gang from the window.

“Just wait till you see what we got,” Tameya yelled back, and giggled again, nudging Connor in the side. His brother picked up speed in transferring the patties, but didn’t move away from the girl, Aiden noticed.

Great. A vacation and a romance. Exactly what neither of them needed. Not when Connor should be doing summer schoolwork to make up a class he’d failed, and focus on behaving well to get promoted to tenth grade. Not when Aiden should be keeping his pub from falling further behind, instead of doing whatever useless activities Rebecca and her crew planned.

No. No time for fun. And definitely no time for romance. So why couldn’t he stop looking at the beautiful Rebecca? His brain must be losing oxygen at this altitude, he decided as he marched back into the house.

The large kitchen opened into an even larger dining room, both areas covered in cheerful, clashing patterned wallpapers, nearly every inch of which held ornate framed photos. A silver spoon collection from all fifty states hung by an authentic wood box phone in the kitchen, the heavy black earpiece of which rested in its metal holder.

That can’t be the only phone on the premises, Aiden mused, eyeing it warily.

A scarred natural pine table, followed by four folding tables, then a fancy dark wood table, spanned the length of the two rooms. Plates and cutlery rested at odd angles to the chairs, some missing completely, while empty glasses were horizontal as often as they were vertical. In the center of each table, a clump of thorny weeds sprang out of tin pails, baskets holding lumps of something doughy beside each one.

Connor pulled the neck of his T-shirt out as he moved farther inside the humid room. “Not sure if you still want these.” He gestured with the platter of charred burgers he carried.

“Why, of course we do,” boomed Marty, who’d changed from his overalls into some kind of plaid dress slacks and a yellow, long-sleeved dress shirt.

“They’re burned,” Connor muttered, looking out the window, but holding the platter high.

“No risk of food poisoning then. A gal visiting from Montreal ordered up one of them steaks tartare. Those are raw, you know. Well. She got E. coli and was stuck for a month at the community hospital.” Marty thumped Connor on the shoulder as he took the plate. “Good looking out for the folks.”

Connor nodded slowly and his mouth twitched. He shot Aiden a triumphant glance.

Aiden had to hold back a smile, too. Rebecca bustled by him and he breathed in the exotic smell she left in her wake.

“Is there a seating order?” she asked. In her light pink T-shirt and jean shorts that showed off a narrow waist and long curvy legs, she looked almost as young as the kids she managed. No wonder they didn’t respect her. Fear her. Do as they were told. She looked like someone to have fun with. Confide in. Fall for...

Did Connor have a crush on her? Aiden shot his brother a look, remembering the origami, but the boy seemed occupied trying not to appear too interested in Tameya’s chatter, her voice rising loud enough to drown out anyone else trying to speak.

“Thought we’d sit adults, then kids, alternating order. Sound good?” chimed in Judith as she straightened from the oven, bearing a pan of baked beans.

“Sounds great,” declared one of the other psychologists. The one with the weird name—Journey. After some jostling, Aiden found himself between a couple of boys, who nodded when he introduced himself, but didn’t offer up their names.

“Who’d like a burger?” A bunch of hands shot up, then dropped when Marty produced the platter of burned meat, a few wisps of smoke still curling around the edges.

“Aw, come on now, kids,” brayed the man. “Think of the teeth cleaning these will give ya.”

Silence descended and the kids looked at one another, then laughed. Connor stared determinedly down at his lap.

Before Aiden could reach for one, Rebecca leaned over, bun in hand. “These are just the way I like them. Extra crispy.”

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