Shadow Keeper (15 page)

Everyone crowded around the table, grabbing plates and dishing out the food except for Carson. He threw one arm around my mom’s shoulders. “X–man and I want to be brothers, so will you adopt me?”

She patted him on the cheek. “I did that years ago, sweetie.”

He gave her a big hug. “Thank you, Mom.”

After he let her go, I introduced Lisa.

“So you’re Lisa.” Mom walked around the table to us. One eyebrow lifted when she glanced at our joined hands. “Brendon didn’t tell me he was bringing a girl.”

Lisa put her head down and tried to take a step back, but I held onto her. I’d forgotten how bashful she could be. “It was a spur of the moment thing, Mom. And if I had a cell phone, I might’ve been able to call you.”

“Of course.” Mom must’ve realized she’d come across too strong, because her voice softened and her eyebrow went back to its normal position. “I really am pleased to meet you, Lisa. On your last visit to the house, I evidently just missed you. I hope you’ll come again soon.”

“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice.

“You kids must be hungry after all that swimming.” Mom held out two paper plates. “Help yourself. There aren’t any formalities at our picnics.”

I grabbed both plates and offered one to Lisa, but instead of taking it, she wrapped her arm around mine and pulled me closer.

“I’m allergic,” she whispered next to my ear.

I glanced at the food on the table. “It’s all right. There’s nothing here with peanuts in it.”

Mom’s head snapped up. “What’s this about peanuts?”

“Lisa is allergic to them.”

“How allergic?”

“I could go into anaphylactic shock.”

“Do you have an epinephrine auto injector?” Mom asked.

“Yes, but not with me.”

“It’s all right, Mom.” I glanced at the table once more. “You didn’t put any peanuts in the food, right?”

“It’s not that simple, Brendon.” Mom’s shoulders squared and her chin came up. That meant she just went into full nurse mode. “Cross contamination is a major concern. If Lisa were to ingest something that had come in contact with peanuts, she could go into anaphylactic shock within minutes. We’re so far away from a hospital that she could be dead before a medical helicopter reaches us.”

“Lisa could die from eating peanuts?” Carson asked.

“I’m sorry if I got too intense,” Mom said, “but this is serious. Lisa, you must know how important this is and how to take the proper precautions.”

“Yes, Mrs. Alexander. I do know. And I should have brought my EpiPen.”

“You have to carry it with you always.” Mom relaxed a little. “Let’s see what we can find for you to eat.”

“Did you buy the chicken already cooked?” Lisa asked. “Or did you make it yourself?”

“I made it. And I used vegetable oil to fry it.”

“What about the potato salad?” I asked. “Eggs, potatoes, pickles. What else is in it?”

“Celery,” Mom said. “But I don’t trust the mayonnaise. You know how Stevie likes to experiment with sandwiches. I’ve found mayonnaise in the peanut butter jar. No telling what was in the mayonnaise.”

“You can have one of these.” I lifted the lid on the ice chest and pulled out a soda.

“Brendon, it’s important that you understand how critical this is,” Mom said. “If you’re going to be around Lisa very much, you’re going to have to be equally careful about what you eat.”

“Okay, no more peanut butter sandwiches for me.”

“It’s more than that. You’ll have to check labels on everything. If you eat a candy bar with peanuts in it, and then drink out of the same bottle, you could kill her. The same goes for kissing.”

“Mom!”

“I’m serious, Brendon.”

“You don’t have to worry about kissing.” I glanced at Lisa. “We haven’t gotten to that stage yet. We’re taking it slow. Real slow.”

Chapter Nineteen

After we ate, Carson and I got Stevie and Krystal on the tubes. Afraid shark attack would scare my little sister, we stuck with bumper cars for about an hour until Mom yelled for us.

“Let the kids eat,” she said. “It’s getting late, and I want to pack up the food.”

I towed Krystal to shore while Carson brought in Stevie. When both kids were on dry land, Carson shoved off for deeper water.

“Do you want more to eat?” I asked.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m going to float around here until it’s time to go.”

Sherry had been sitting with Lisa on the blanket, but she hurried over and grabbed the other tube. “Hold on, Carson. I’ll go with you.”

While Lisa helped Krystal remove her lifejacket, I glanced at Paul. He sat on a rock, watching the action in the creek.

“Lisa,” Mom said when we sat at the table. “I understand you just moved to Esparto. What brought you here?”

She put her head down. “My dad.”

“He’s an anthropologist, right?”

“Yes, but he’s sick,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is he seriously ill?”

Lisa nodded. “He, ah, I guess you could say he suffered a nervous breakdown. He’s in the Woodland hospital right now.”

“Oh, goodness. I see why you’re worried. I hope he gets better soon.”

“I don’t know if he can. We need to find...”

“Find what?” Mom asked when she didn’t continue. “A cure?”

“Something like that.”

She patted Lisa’s hand. “This must be extremely difficult for you.”

“It is. And the worst part is, Daddy doesn’t recognize me, or my mother. Sometimes I feel like he…he’s already dead because he’s gone from my life. Mom won’t let me visit him anymore because she thinks it’s too hard for me.”

I put my arm around her, wishing I could make her feel better, even though I knew it wouldn’t help. I’d lost my father and no amount of comfort made the emptiness go away.

“I’m all right.” Lisa gave me a quick smile. “I haven’t given up hope yet. Besides, I have his writings.”

“Published writings?” Mom asked.

“No. Well, yes. But I also have his private writings. He kept a journal from the time I was born. Whenever I start missing him, I read the passages he wrote about our happy times together. It’s almost like he’s talking to me. Then I remember him for the father he once was.”

“I’m glad you have something that gives you comfort,” Mom said.

“I wish I had something of Dad’s.”

Mom’s head snapped around. “What do you mean?”

“All I’ve got is a few pictures, and I remember so little about him. If I had something of his to read, it might help me know him better.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

“How long ago did he die?” Lisa asked.

“About six years ago,” I said.

“Was he ill for a long time?”

“No, he wasn’t sick. He...” My mind went blank. I looked at Mom. She didn’t like to talk about him, but since she was being so sympathetic about Lisa’s father, maybe she’d tell me something about mine. “How did Dad die?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“I know, but how?”

“Later. All right?” Mom put her elbow on the table. Her fingers pressed at her temple, hiding her face.

The awkward silence was broken by Lisa. “What kind of work did their father do?”

“What difference does it make?” she snapped. “He’s not here anymore.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you.” Lisa sunk lower on the bench.

“I’m sorry also.” Mom took a sip from the water bottle. “Why do you want to know what he did?”

“Brendon wants to go to college and study ancient civilizations.” She shrugged. “I was just curious if his father did the same kind of work.”

Mom swiped a hand over her forehead, but didn’t speak. She glanced at the ground beside the table and got all jittery, like she was thinking of running away.

I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. Mom wasn’t over his death. I tried to come to her rescue. “Dad was a carpenter. Isn’t that right?”

“No.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Why do you think that?”

“He was always building things. He built that gazebo in the backyard of our old house.”

“We didn’t have a gazebo.”

“Yes, we did. I helped him build it.”

“You were too young to remember that.”

“I remember handing him nails and holding the hammer for him.” My memory sharpened as the past flew into the present. “I helped him paint a big red circle in the middle of the floor, kind of like a wagon wheel. He painted funny symbols in each of the spaces between the spokes.”

“That wasn’t a gazebo.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was…It was…a grape arbor.”

“I don’t remember any grapes.”

“We hadn’t planted any yet.” Mom picked up the bottle and brought it to her lips, but didn’t take a drink. “Is that all you remember?” She held the bottle in front of her face, shielding her expression from me.

My mind travelled back six years to the last time I saw my dad. “I remember sitting on the floor in the middle of the red circle. You sat next to me holding Stevie in your lap. Dad handed Krystal to me, she was just a baby, and told me that no matter what I hear or what I see, I was to stay in the circle.” A knot clenched in my belly. My body broke out in a cold sweat. Something horrible happened, but my mind wouldn’t dig any deeper. “That’s all I remember.”

“There was lightning,” Stevie said.

“What?” Mom glanced at him.

“There was lightning the night Daddy died,” he repeated.

“You can’t remember that. You were barely four years old.”

Lisa stood up. “Why don’t I take Krystal to the blanket so the rest of you can talk?”

“There’s no need,” Mom said. “We’re through discussing this.”

I shook my head as my frustration grew. I wanted to know about my dad. “If you won’t talk about him, can I at least see the things he left behind?”

“He didn’t leave anything.”

“Oh, come on, Mom. You never throw anything away.”

“Did you keep his journal?” Lisa asked.

“Journal?” Mom’s back stiffened. “John didn’t have a journal.”

“Oh?” Lisa’s eyebrows rose in a show of surprise. “He never wrote in a journal all the things he wanted to pass on to his son about his work?”

“No.” Mom’s tone was sharp.

My gaze darted back and forth between the two of them as they stared at each other. This wasn’t like Lisa. She seldom looked anyone in the eye. And when did she become so confrontational? She’d practically called my mother a liar. But she was spot on about my dad. “I remember him writing in a journal.”

Mom flinched. Her glare shifted to me. “There is no journal.”

“Did you destroy it?” Lisa asked.

The sharp gasp of air Mom sucked in was the only sound at the table for a long moment.

Something weird just happened. Lisa practically accused her of destroying my dad’s journal. The funny thing was...my mother looked guilty.

“It’s getting late.” Mom hopped off the bench. “Let’s get the food put away.”

She threw things around so fast that I stood back and watched. When she had the food packed up, I carried it to the car.

Lisa followed me. “I’m going to sit with Sherry until we’re ready to go.”

Mom stormed up behind us. She threw the life vests into the trunk. “Brendon, why don’t you ride home with us instead of driving all the way back with your friends? Then you’ll be home before dark. After all, you did promise your grandmother you’d mow the lawn.”

“Okay, just let me tell the guys.” I hoped this was her way of making things better. Perhaps in the car ride home, she’d smooth things over with Lisa.

As we walked to the King Cab, Lisa remained silent with her gaze downcast. Paul and Carson had the tubes in the pickup bed. I helped tie down the load before telling them of the change in plans.

“Is it all right if I flake on you?” I put my arm around Lisa’s shoulders so there wouldn’t be any mistake she was included. “My mom wants us to ride with her.”

She shrugged off my arm and stepped away. “I’m going with Sherry. You ride home with your mother.”

“Oh, burn,” Paul said. “Looks like you’ll be riding home alone with mommy.”

I ignored him and looked at Lisa. “You can ride with us to my house. Then I’ll get the car and take you home.”

“Your mom doesn’t want me to go with you. She doesn’t like me.”

“You’re crazy. My mom likes you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She knows that I know.”

“What kind of answer is that? Just what do you know?”

“That she’s keeping a secret about your father.”

“Is that all?” If the atmosphere wasn’t so tense, I would have laughed. “She’s been keeping secrets about my dad for as long as I can remember, but she doesn’t hate me. Why would she hate you?”