What This River Keeps: A Novel

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY T he ringing phone woke him up Saturday afternoon but he came to with a smile on his face. Ollie wasn't a religious man but he'd thanked God so many times last night he half expected to hear His booming voice on the other line saying, "Glad you liked her, my favorite son." He tugged himself free of the tangle of sheets and slid along the wall toward the phone, which rang on, patiently. Maybe it wasn't God at all but the Devil, fussy like some collection agent, telling him he owed his soul for last night. Whatever. Now that he'd met her, it was like the difference between living in a house without electricity and one with. She lived so close-why hadn't he found her sooner? He'd ask whichever omnipotent being was calling. "Don't tell me you're still asleep," she said. "Summer!" "Who'd you think it was?" "It seemed like it coulda been anyone." He sat heavily on a stool at the kitchen bar and put his face in his hand. "Nice, sucker. Just how many girls call your house?" "Not as many as you think." "Now I know why they don't." He opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. "Hal Totally got you there. Just playing with you. Well, get ready to go hiking." He was still stunned. "You roger that? Get ready to go hiking, I said. Get over here and pick us up. We've been ready for hours." "Hiking? Where?" "At the park. It's a perfect day for it." He looked up without lifting his head off his hand. Indeed, a warm glow came through the dirty curtains hanging over the living room window. "Well, I guess we'll have to come pick you up, then," she said. "Give us directions to Oliver's House of Love Slaves." "Wait." He'd caught enough of the pronouns to know her daughter was back in her possession. He pictured the toddler sliding around his floor on Playboys and 4-Wheel Drives. "I'm on my way there. Just let me put on my hiking boots." He hung up the phone. It wasn't the Devil after all, but he'd just been told what he owed for last night. Of course he didn't own hiking boots, nor any other piece of gear that invited exercise. Working in the hot sawmill kept him thin and wiry enough, but he had to admit his body wasn't what it once was. He'd tweezed out IS4 What This River Keeps 155 white hairs and beer seemed to settle around his gut more. Just last year his favorite jeans got noticeably tighter, so for two nights he did sit-ups in front of the TV. Then he said the hell with that. But he was going to have to do something, because Summer was twenty-two, and kid or not, she was in shape like he couldn't believe. As he showered he fantasized about time travel-he'd be twenty-two and so would she. Course, ifhe could go back in time he'd prevent the pregnancy from ever happening. But that led him to thoughts about the conception, which infuriated him. So instead he fantasized about selling the kid and buying a new house with the money for Summer and him. He drove there after showering and brushing his teeth, wearing his work boots. She met him in the backyard in green shorts and little hiking boots with red laces. What, did she do this all the time? He was in trouble. As he walked up he looked at her tan legs and remembered last night and leaned in to kiss her. She blocked it by putting her hands on his shoulders. He was surprised until he heard the door open behind her. The little one stood there, pushing on the screen door. She wore matching boots-hers no bigger than coffee cups. Her shorts were puffy from the diaper underneath. Damn, kids were funny. She looked like a shrunken version of her mother. "Hi!" Spring yelled. "Hi there," he said. "Hi!" "Hi there, little hiker." "Hi!" Hell ifhe knew what else to say. He looked at Summer and grinned. "She's so cute." "Are we ready?" she asked. She was either legitimately excited or faking it well. "I know I am." 'Just let me grab a few things and we'll...