Chasing Sunsets by Eva Marie Everson Read Free Book Online Page B

was reminded of my father’s request that I go to Cedar Key, and for a moment, I thought of the marshes, the beach, the stretch of the Gulf. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad . . .
    “All right. Wet ’n Wild it is. We’ll get there when it opens and leave when it shuts down. How does that sound?”
    Happiness rushed from the backseat.
    I spent the next day splashing and laughing with my children. When the day was over and our bodies were thoroughly sun-kissed, we headed home. The sun had nearly set, slathering the gray at the end of the day in hues of pinks and blues. I thought again of Cedar Key and its spectacular sunsets. Of how residents and visitors gathered to watch nature’s end-of-the-day show. Something deep within me—a feeling I’d long ago forgotten—stirred.
    When we arrived home and I’d shut off the engine of the car, “Fun Mom” became “Just Mom.”
    “Okay, young men of mine. Upstairs to shower.”
    “We know, Mom,” they both said.
    “We’re not two anymore, you know,” Chase said.
    My sons. When did they think they’d grown up? “Uh-huh. Okay, then. Who’s up for popcorn and a movie after your showers?”
    Chase and Cody scampered toward the back door, each one carrying part of our day’s gear. I gathered what was left and followed them. Max met me at the top of the stairs, tail wagging, eyes expectant. I reached down to pet him. “Who left you in the house?” I asked as though he could answer. I looked toward the boys’ rooms and called out, “Whoever is not in the shower, Max needs to go outside.” Max immediately bounded down the stairs to wait for his savior.
    Upstairs in my room I started the shower. The phone rang as I peeled my bathing suit from the stink of my skin. I was content to ignore it, but a minute or so later I heard a loud knock on the bathroom’s closed door. “Mom!”
    “Yes, Cody.” I reached for a towel, wrapped it around me, and opened the door just wide enough to peek out.
    “Dad is on the phone for you.”
    Expectancy was in his eyes, a look I never quite got used to. As if, with every call, there lay the possibility of reconciliation. Perhaps, I imagined his mind wondering, if they talk long enough, and the conversation is friendly enough . . . perhaps . . .
    “Did you tell him I was about to get in the shower?”
    My son’s face went blank. “No.”
    I smiled in hopes of easing any negative feelings I had about this moment. Charlie was the last person I wanted to speak with. “Well, did he say what he wanted?”
    Again the eyes brightened. “No, but I told him we went to Wet ’n Wild today.”
    I nodded. “Okay, well . . . tell him that I am in the shower and I’ll call him back.”
    Cody shook his head. “I can’t. He said to tell you it’s important. And he sounds really serious.”
    A sudden fear overtook me. What if one of his parents was sick? Or worse? “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” Cody nodded and started to back away. “Oh, and Cody . . .”
    He looked at me, then blinked. “Yes, Mom?”
    “Close the bedroom door on your way out.”
    “I know, Mom,” he said.
    I closed the bathroom door, turned off the shower, and dashed into the bedroom, where I picked up the bedside phone. I heard Cody on the extension, happily telling his father about the day and about how many times he’d ridden and conquered the Storm, one of the thrill rides the park offers.
    Charlie replied with, “Buddy, that sounds great, and I promise we’ll do that when you come for your visit, but I think I hear your mom on the other line.”
    I squared my shoulders. “Cody, you can hang up, sweetheart. Get your shower, okay?”
    “Okay, Mom. Love you, Dad.”
    “I love you too, buddy.”
    My heart twisted. When I heard the click of Cody disconnecting his extension, I said, “What’s wrong?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Cody said it was important. Is it your parents? Has something happened to one of them?”
    “Good grief,