The Thing About Trouble Page 15

  Blue typed quickly, and as the song erupted from her phone, Tawny started to move. Blue watched in wonder as the little girl went through all the moves and made up a few of her own. Blue found a playlist of pop songs and joined in, and for the next twenty minutes, the two of them danced their hearts out. She showed Tawny a few easy jazz moves, and she wasn’t surprised at how quickly she picked up—the girl was a natural.

  She showed her how to do a plié and then first and second position. Tawny even got the arm work down pat. Blue was lost in a world she’d forgotten existed. Dancing in Vegas had been a means to an end. It had put food in her belly and a roof over her head. It was nothing like this. She kicked off her boots and began the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker, which was one of her favorite works. Lucky for Blue, her jeans were the kind that moved easily, and she her limbs were fluid, her feet dancing with a precision she hadn’t used in years.

  The music was a delicate balance of power and beauty, and when it was done, she bowed her head, heart banging against her chest, blood singing with joy. Tawny ran to her side and wrapped her little arms around her legs, caught up in the magic Blue felt.

  A loud clapping broke the silence, and Blue glanced up. Her heart burst from her chest, and, embarrassed, she looked away, afraid she was going to start crying. She’d been so caught up in feeling alive that she’d forgotten, for a moment, she’d told him to join her here. Cam knew about the space and that she wanted to start her own dance studio. But this was the first time he’d seen it.

  “Did you see Blue dance?” Tawny’s excited voice cut through the silence. “She’s the best dancer in the whole wide world.”

  “I think you’re right about that, kiddo.” Cam’s voice was warm and carried that husky note that did weird things to Blue’s insides. She was hot and cold at the same time.

  “What do you think about the space?” she asked softly. “I mean, it needs work. The floors. Mirrors. Change rooms.”

  “I think it’s perfect. I think it will be cutting edge. The acoustics are incredible. You’ve found your place, Blue.” He paused. “Congratulations.”

  “Are you guys gonna kiss again?” Tawny put her hands on her hips and made a face. “I’m hungry, and it takes too long when you kiss.”

  Blue turned away and tried to stifle her laughter.

  Cam scooped Tawny up into his arms. “As soon as Blue puts her boots back on we’re going to hit the Fair and you can go on some rides and see the horses and cows and goats.”

  “Can I have a candy apple?” Tawny cupped Cam’s face and asked the question so earnestly that Blue was surprised when he didn’t give an immediate yes.

  “After you have something healthy, you can have a candy apple or candy floss or whatever you want.”

  “I want a candy apple.”

  “Okay. Candy apple it will be.” Cam looked over her head at Blue. “If Blue’s a good girl, I’ll make sure she gets a treat too.”

  Tawny yanked her head around. “Do you like candy apples too, Blue?”

  Mouth dry, she shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a candy apple before.”

  “Trust me,” Cam replied with a wicked grin. “You’ll love my treats.”

  Anticipation sparked new energy, and Blue gathered up her purse. When Cam offered his hand, she took it. They left the studio and strolled ten minutes down Main Street, headed for the fall fair.

  Mrs. Avery, the florist, waved as she was locking up and thought, What a beautiful family. She wondered, briefly about the child, since as far as she knew, Cam had never fathered one. But it was only a brief thought, and she pushed it aside as quickly as it had come. She locked up and headed home for a nice cup of tea.

  Beatrice, the owner of Coffee Corner, noticed them as they passed by. A newcomer to Crystal Lake for only five years or so, she didn’t know Cam or Blue. But the sight of a young couple, obviously in love and with a child to bind them together, brought a smile to her face. She watched them until they disappeared around the corner, no doubt headed to the fair. Oh, to be young and in love, she thought with a smile.

  Blue, Cam, and Tawny were oblivious to anything outside the little cocoon they’d created. They didn’t notice the man who stood on the corner glaring at them as they paid their way at the entrance gate to the fair.

  Didn’t notice the hand that shook in rage as he pulled out his cellphone. Or the tense line to his mouth as he made a call. Or the way he spat into the phone as he launched into a long and heated conversation.

  When the woman he was seeing, Olivia, showed up with her little brat, Lissa, he ignored them and made them wait nearly ten minutes until he was done with his call. Then he coolly shoved his cell phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket and crossed the street, not bothering to wait for Olivia and the brat. He knew they’d follow the same way that he knew later tonight, Oliva would get down on her knees and blow him into tomorrow.

  Edward Barnes always got what he wanted.

  And the bitch who’d been a thorn in his side for nearly four years had just given him the ammunition he needed to keep that particular status quo. A cruel smile curved his mouth as he entered the fairgrounds with Oliva and her kid.

  “How about some saltwater taffy?” It wasn’t a question—not really. Edward didn’t care to listen for an answer, because Olivia’s opinion didn’t matter.

  He’d been craving mint taffy all day. Who cared what they wanted?

  19

  The Sunday before Halloween was unseasonably warm. The fall spectacular of color was nearly gone, vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows replaced by the dull brown and gray of dying foliage. Most of the trees had lost their leaves entirely, the maple, the oak, the beech, though the evergreens did their part to ward off the death knell, and Crystal Lake had a ton of them. They filled in the large gaps and spaces the skeletal trees had given way to, and the water shone like diamonds under a sharp, bright fall sun.

  Cam saw the lake sparkling in the distance as he pulled in behind his father’s truck. Rufus raised his head, nostrils quivering, as the scents from the forest drifted in from the half-open window.

  For a moment, Cam sat back and enjoyed the view. The sun was warm on his face, and the driveway he was parked in led to a cabin at least fifty feet ahead, and beyond that, the lake. An area had been cleared to his left, maybe to make room for an outbuilding of some sort, but sad-looking stumps and a tangle of dead weeds filled in the space. The cabin was elevated, though the incline to the water was steep and covered with a combination of pine and paper birch trees.

  Cam got out of his truck, and Rufus ran ahead as he slowly made his way up the driveway. As he got closer, he could see the cabin’s windows were all broken and the steps leading up to the small porch were rotted through. He wondered where his dad was and skirted the cabin, spying his father as he came up to the back of the place. Harry Booker was dressed in red plaid and faded jeans. A Red Wings ball cap covered most of his wiry white hair, and he leaned against a tall birch tree, peering through the forest out over the lake. His shoulders were slumped forward, and Cam could tell he’d lost some weight.

  For the first time in his life, Cam thought his dad looked old. He didn’t much like that thought and immediately pushed it away as he joined Harry at the tree.

  The two men watched Rufus run mad along the shoreline, chasing whitecaps as the water rolled in and barking at nothing.

  “That dog is crazy,” Harry said with a wry smile.

  Cam chuckled. “You got that right.” In the distance, the drone of a plane engine cut through the air, and a wave of melancholy washed over Cam. It was so strong, it brought a lump to his throat, and he had to clear it in order to speak.

  “This is a great spot,” he said, watching his father closely. Was it just Cam, or did he look pale? His features a bit pinched?

  “Sure is,” Harry replied with a small nod. “I’ve lived here all my life, and the sight of this lake through the trees still makes my heart ache. Th
ere’s no place like home, and we’re lucky enough to live in a little corner of heaven on earth. The air is clean and the water is alive. All the fishing a man could want, and fishing is all a man needs.” His dad cracked a smile. “Besides a good woman.”

  “Mom will be glad to hear that,” Cam replied with a chuckle.

  “Your mother is the best thing that ever happened to me.” His dad pushed off from the birch. “Did I ever tell you how we met?”

  “No.”

  “Well, your mother was a hippie, and I was fresh out of the army. That should tell you something. She liked that Led Zeppelin. I was more of a Johnny Cash man.” Harry was silent for a little while, and the two men stood beside each other, eyes on the water.

  “She was dating one of my pals, Charlie Korner. And Charlie decided he was going to set me up with one of your mother’s girlfriends. Kimberly was her name. We went for dinner and then took a boat out to Pottahawk Island. Your mom and I spent the whole night arguing. That girl still likes to prove a point.” Harry chuckled. “If I said white, she said black. If I said no, she said yes. It got pretty heated when we got into politics. I was a proud Republican, and she was not. When she told me that I was stuffy and had no imagination, I got hot under the collar. I remember Charlie and Kimberly trying to intervene, but it was like we forgot they were there. Then your mama dared me to ditch my clothes and skinny-dip. I told her she was crazy and called her a hippie. She stripped right there in front of us and ran into the water. The moon was high, and I’d never seen such a beautiful woman. I ditched my clothes and followed her in, wanting to prove a point. All I proved was that she was the woman for me, and Charlie and Kimberly never forgave us. I showed up at her place the next night with a bunch of half-wilted flowers, and I never let her go.

  “This thing with the widow Barnes—”

  “It’s Blue, Dad.”

  “This thing with Blue. Is it serious?”

  “Yeah,” Cam replied, kind of shocked at his answer. “For me it is. She’s kind of hard to read sometimes, but I think she feels the same way.”

  “And the child?”

  “Tawny’s not going anywhere.”

  Harry scratched at his chin and slowly nodded. “Good. That’s good. A man knows when the right one comes along. A smart man never lets her go.”

  Cam’s father was generally a man of few words. This entire conversation was so out of the box that he didn’t know what to think. On one hand, this was a side of Harry Booker he liked—maybe even needed. On the other hand, it made him nervous. His dad was acting weird.

  “What are we doing here, Dad?”

  His father turned and looked at the house. “There’s nearly two acres with a lot of waterfront. The cabin will have to be torn down. There’s nothing left to do with it. But we can rebuild.” He pointed to the left. “And up on that hill, something for your sister, if she’s inclined to come back to the lake.” He turned yet again. “Your brother Nash is just over the rise.” He was quiet for a few seconds and seemed lost in thought. “Wouldn’t that just be amazing. To have all you kids here, together. Kind of a legacy, I suppose.”

  Cam turned in a full circle, an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain. He was a Michigan boy through and through, no doubt about that. The mountains that crested the distance, the lakes and wildlife that snaked through them, were a gift.

  “A Booker family compound sounds good,” he said, turning back to his father. But the man wasn’t paying attention. He was deep in thought.

  “The universe is a funny thing, Cameron. She fools us. Her way of keeping order, I guess. She makes a man think he’s got plenty of time. Makes him think there’s always a tomorrow. That man goes about his business feeling safe. He’s arrogant to cling to that assumption but doesn’t know it. He has a family and busies himself with work. With providing. Making sure the bills are paid and there’s a roof over his head. To him, those things are important. He misses hockey games and football games and piano recitals because there’s always tomorrow and he has a good woman who picks up his slack. He spends too much time at work. Too much time in the garage fixing a damn lawn mower and sneaking smokes. And then he finds out there might not be a tomorrow.”

  “What’s going on, Dad?” Real fear, cold and hard, clawed at Cam. And Rufus, sensing the turmoil, nudged him repeatedly, his cold, wet nose offering what comfort he could.

  “Dad?” he asked softly.

  Harry Booker hung his head. “I’ve got the cancer.”

  Silence.

  Cam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He bent over, hands on his knees for a few seconds, then caught his breath and straightened.

  “Lung cancer,” his father continued. “I already started radiation to shrink the fucker, and then we’ve got surgery. Our hope is they get it all and that I can survive with one lung.”

  “Jesus, Dad.” Maybe Cam shouldn’t be surprised. Hell, how many of his friends had been touched by cancer in some way? But he was shocked. This was his dad. The big guy who never backed down. He was a giant in Cam’s eyes, and weakness wasn’t part of that picture.

  “I’m not afraid of dying, son.” His dad’s eyes were misty, the faded blue shiny with a touch of glass. “I’m afraid of not finishing all the stuff I have left to do. I’m afraid I don’t have enough tomorrows.” He paused. “No, that’s wrong. I’m mad as hell about that, but like your mom says, being mad doesn’t make anything better. So I best get control of the anger or use it to fight, and I plan on fighting.” His voice trembled now. “I want to see all my kids settled and happy. I want to watch my grandkids play hockey and football. I want to see them dance and play piano.” Harry winked. “Maybe if I’m really lucky, I can get your mother out to Pottahawk Island once more and see if she’s willing to swim naked with me.”

  “That is something I don’t need to know about, Dad.” Cam smiled, trying to lighten things, even though his brain whirled and his gut was so tight, he thought he was going to lose his breakfast.

  “No,” Harry said slowly. “I suppose not.” He sighed heavily. “I told your brother last night, and your Mom is with your sister now. I don’t want your pity. What I want…” He gestured to the trees around him. “Is for this place to flourish. For my boys and my girl to be here.”

  “We’ll get it done, Dad.” Cam stepped forward and grabbed up his dad into a bear hug. They didn’t say anything but clung to each other with a ferocity only a father and son could manage. Eventually, he let go, and his father stepped back. When he spoke, his voice was gruff.

  “Now, I don’t want any long faces at dinner. Your mother has shed enough tears, and Lord knows I’ve never been strong enough when the waterworks start. I’ll see you and your girls later.” He turned back to the water. “I’m just going to sit here a bit.”

  Cam called the dog, who’d run down to the water’s edge when he wasn’t looking. He climbed into the truck and, less than a minute later, pulled into his brother’s driveway. Nash and Honey didn’t work Sundays, and he spied his brother on the dock, the little guy on his shoulders as they stared out over the water.

  Cam hopped from his truck and strode toward them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, or if he wanted to say anything at all. He just knew he needed to be here, if only for a moment to calm the turmoil inside.

  His boots thudded across the dock, their echo dull and flat. Nash turned around, Gabe’s chubby hands buried in his hair.

  “You’ve talked to Dad,” his brother said.

  Cam nodded. “Yeah.”

  He stopped a few inches from his brother, and the two of them stared out across the water. The breeze had picked up, and the warmth from the sun seemed to diminish within seconds. Cam shuddered and shook his head.

  “It’s not good,” he muttered.

  “No.” Nash glanced his way. “But Dad’s a tough bastard, and it’s going to take a lot more than a tumor to bring him down.”

  “We need to come up with plans for down the road.”

&nbs
p; “Yeah. We’ll start there. It will keep us all busy.”

  Cam held his brother’s gaze a heartbeat longer and then slowly nodded. The quiet surrounded them, long fingers of silence that soothed the ache and tempered the dark thoughts.

  For now, it was enough.

  20

  Tuesday was crazy busy at Bella & Hooch. The boutique was decorated for Halloween, which meant it looked as if Harry Potter had exploded everywhere. Poppy was a huge fan of the children’s books, and she’d even dressed the part, sailing into work wearing a Gryffindor outfit, along with the sorting hat. Her long auburn hair trailed down her back in a riot of waves, and her pert British accent only added to the charm. The accent was fake; the charm, however, wasn’t.

  How else could Poppy have convinced Blue to dress up in a costume? She’d never been a fan of Halloween, and yet here she was, hair scraped up into a high ponytail, wearing purple and gold and more jewels than you could shake a stick at, handing out wishes from her basket because she was a genie.

  “You know, normally I don’t trust a person who doesn’t like candy corn or orange, or black cats.” Poppy glanced over her round glasses and winked from behind a huge display of spiders caught in a net of decorations.

  “Candy corn will wreck your teeth. Orange isn’t my color. And I love cats. I have a cat.”

  “Your cat is gray.”

  “Exactly,” Blue retorted dryly, handing out a chocolate-covered wish to an adorable little pumpkin and her doting grandmother. She glanced at her watch. “I need to leave soon, Poppy.”

  The redhead nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll be closing early anyway. It is a holiday after all.”

  Blue chuckled. “If you say so.”

  Poppy finished wrangling one of the large spiders out of the web she was working on and set in on the counter.

  “What are your plans tonight?” she asked lightly, a smile curving her lips as she stared across the counter at Poppy. “Since you hate Halloween and all.”