Chapter 21 - The Future She Left Behind

“If you keep this up, I won’t have one single weed in the whole yard.” Birdie knelt on the ground next to Katelyn in front of the azalea bushes by the side of the house.

“I woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep,” Katelyn said. “I thought I’d make myself useful, since I have the day off from the Buy & Bag.” She tossed a dandelion into the pile of weeds behind her.

“Wouldn’t you rather sit in church than out here in the hot sun?”

Katelyn smiled. “No one’s stopping you from spending your Sunday praising God.”

“I usually skip the first service after one of our birthday parties. Better to wait until the gossip dies down.” Birdie squeezed Katelyn’s hand. “Are you sure you want to take over my job for the rest of the summer?”

“I haven’t done a lot for you through the years, Mom. Use the break to relax and catch up on sleep.” Katelyn sat back on her heels and removed a gift-wrapped package from her pocket. “I got you something else for your birthday.”

“The check was plenty.” Birdie tore at the paper. “Guitar picks?”

“If it’s not too late for me to start painting again, then it’s not too late for you to start playing your guitar.”

“Maybe I will.” Birdie set the picks aside. “Thank you.” She pointed at the ground beneath the shrubs. “I didn’t put mulch down last year.”

“Why didn’t you ask me to help you in the yard when I was younger?”

“You were always off somewhere doodling in that sketch pad of yours.”

Katelyn couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t drawing on something—the back of a candy wrapper, a paper lunch bag or her school notebooks.

“Pulling weeds is therapeutic and I needed a lot of therapy after I gave up my music.” Birdie reached around Katelyn and tugged a dandelion out of the ground. “I had to have something pretty in my life to replace my music.”

“I wish you and I had been closer, Mom.”

Birdie brushed a loose strand of Katelyn’s hair off her cheek. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

“Me, too.” And Katelyn meant it. Unlike on previous visits home, she felt no restlessness, no gut-tugging urgency to return to St. Louis.

“The other day Etta asked if you’d donate a piece of artwork for the Fourth of July silent auction.”

“That’s four days away.”

“You must have a sketch or drawing you could contribute,” Birdie said.

Katelyn had taken her pencil and pad down to the railroad tracks after she’d finished her shift at the store each day last week, but hadn’t decided if she’d turn any of the sketches into a painting. “I’m not ready to share my work with the public.”

“Why don’t you show me one of your sketches,” Birdie said, “and I’ll tell you if it’s good or a piece of crap?”

“You’re a musician. How would you know what’s good art and what’s not?”

“After I saw your drawing of Mack, I knew you had talent.”

“The one of him sitting on the front porch?”

Birdie nodded. “The look of love in that dog’s eyes stole my breath. Anyone who can capture that raw emotion on paper needs to share their gift with the world.”

“I wish you had told me that back then,” Katelyn said.

“I’m ashamed to admit I was jealous.”

Startled by her mother’s confession, Katelyn didn’t know what to say. She’d always believed her mom had been too busy with work, and that was why she hadn’t shown much interest in her daughter’s art.

“I know it sounds horrible for a mother to be jealous of her own child. Any decent parent would wish for their offspring to be successful, but your talent reminded me of my lost dreams.” Birdie blinked hard. “By the time I realized how stupid my jealousy was, you were in college.”

Katelyn appreciated the confession, but it made her sad that her mother’s envy had kept them from having a close relationship. “Thank you for saying that.”

“You have incredible talent, daughter. You simply have to believe in yourself.”

Believing in herself would take time. But she’d taken a step in the right direction when she’d decided to remain in Little Springs for the summer. And admitting that the place she’d always wanted to escape from was the same place that nurtured her creative side was another step toward finding the girl who’d lost her way.

“What are you doing with Shirley today?”

“I don’t know. We’re waiting to see if Vern asks her out on another date.”

“Melissa thinks I should have the safe-sex talk with Grandma Pratt.”

Birdie tipped her head back and laughed. “The ladies’ society has it covered.”

“Do you mind if I borrow your car to go down to the tracks for a while?”

“Not at all.”

Katelyn tugged her gardening gloves off. “Tell Etta I’ll give her a picture for the Fourth of July auction.”

“That’s my girl.”

* * *

He was watching her.

Jackson had shown up fifteen minutes ago, when the Pecos Valley Southern Railway rattled by. Like in old times, his quiet presence comforted her. Her pencil stilled against the paper. She studied the image of the graffiti-covered boxcar and the shadowy figure inside, staring out the open door. There was no way to tell if the oval face with large luminous eyes belonged to a girl or a boy.

“That’s you, isn’t it?”

“You might give someone a warning before you sneak up on them.” She shifted in her lawn chair. “How do you know it’s me?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “You had that same glow in your eyes when you said good-bye before you left for college.”

“I let you down.”

“No one let anyone down.” He rubbed his finger across her cheek. “We got lost for a while.”

How had she gotten lost when she’d left this place to find herself? “I decided to stay here for the summer, but then, you know that already, don’t you?”

“Vern told me.”

“I don’t think your minister friend likes me.”

“He can be overprotective.”

“I stopped by the garage Friday afternoon, but it was closed.” She’d walked over after her shift at the grocery store to chat with Jackson.

“I was at an AA meeting.”

“You meet on Fridays?”

“We try to meet every Friday, but we have a small group, so we change the day of the week if someone can’t make it.”

She set her charcoal pencil down and gave him her full attention. “Do you find the meetings helpful?”

“Yes and no.” He picked up a pebble and flung it across the tracks. “I don’t share much, but I did this time.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she said.

His gaze swung to her. “I panicked when I heard you were staying.”

Katelyn stood and set the sketch pad on the seat of the chair. She took Jackson’s hand and led him to the shade of their oak tree. They sank to the ground together, backs against the trunk, shoulders touching—as they’d sat all those afternoons in the past. Eyes closed, she basked in the feeling of rightness that filled her. “Why does my staying in town make you uneasy?”

“I was fine with you being here until I kissed you.”

Her eyes popped open. “So the kiss was a mistake?”

“No, it confirmed that I want you as much as I wanted you back in high school.” He grinned. “And my gut tells me it’s not a good idea to get involved with you again.”

Katelyn pulled her hand free from his grasp and cupped her elbows. Jackson was smart to have reservations about her, but it still hurt. “Why is it a bad idea for us to be together?” When his mouth went slack, she pressed him. “I’m not joking. I want to know.”

“You just found out your husband cheated on you, and your divorce isn’t even final.”

“What you’re really saying is that you can’t trust my emotional state right now.”

He touched her ring. “You’re still wearing your wedding band.”

“I don’t know why.” She reached to remove it, but Jackson closed his fingers around her hand.

“Take it off when you’re ready,” he said.

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m angry and hurt that my husband cheated on me. But if anything positive has come from his infidelity, it’s me recognizing that I was as unhappy and unfulfilled as he was.”

“Maybe you’re no longer grieving your marriage, but you’re going to be making a lot of decisions about your future, and starting a new relationship right now might not be smart.”

“You’re probably right, but I can’t stop living my life.” Not when parts of her life had already been on hold for almost nineteen years.

“How are your kids taking the news?”

Katelyn let him change the subject. “They’re upset, but college in the fall will help distract them.”

“Do they know about me? That we dated?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s another reason for us not to get involved.”

Now that Jackson mentioned it, there was no need to tell the kids unless something serious came of their relationship. The twins needed time to accept their parents’ divorce and their father’s new girlfriend before Katelyn introduced another man into the equation.

“You’ve made some good points.” Katelyn turned her head toward Jackson, her lips inches from his. “But right now none of them seems to matter.” She brushed her mouth against his and he nipped her tongue. She felt his groan before she heard it—a deep rumble that crawled out of his lungs and up his throat, escaping into the air when he pulled away. Jackson frowned.

“My kisses used to make you smile,” she said.

“We’re playing with fire.”

“A simple kiss?”

“You don’t do simple, Katelyn.”

She climbed to her feet and walked back to the lawn chair.

After she picked up her pencil and began sketching, he spoke. “I’m glad you’re drawing again.”

“I’m donating a picture for the July Fourth silent auction. Will you be at the park?”

“I’ll be there in the morning to set up the tent and tables, then later that night to take them down.”

“Maybe I’ll see you.”

“I don’t think so.”

She looked at him. “Why not?”

“I told you I’m not much for socializing.”

“You can’t live on the fringes of other people’s lives forever, Jackson.”

“It’s been working for me so far.”

“Has it?” When he dropped his gaze, she said, “You assume everyone still thinks of you as the son of a drunk.”

“That’s what I am.”

“It’s not a question of people giving you a chance,” she said. “It’s whether or not you’re willing to accept yourself for who you are.”

“You’re one to talk. You’ve been running away from who you are since you left town.” Jackson walked off, leaving Katelyn with a few truths of her own to digest.