Seeing Things by Patti Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

in truth, not a word passed his lips. Sitting there with Andy, no doubt, he believed he’d just said: Think nothing of it, Ma. I hated that sofa. You did me a favor.
    I continued as if he had. “What’s up with Fletcher?”
    â€œI don’t know. According to all the tests, he’s brilliant. But unless I keep a fire under him, he loses interest.”
    â€œLike the time you built a volcano the night before it was due?”
    â€œIt’s different now. Competition is fierce for the best colleges.”
    â€œHe’s fifteen. A boy. Boys get distracted . . . as I remember.”
    Andy stood. “I won first place in the science fair with that volcano.”
    Fletcher stepped into the room. “Yeah?”
    Andy expelled a long breath. “I received this letter from your school today. Life isn’t a game, young man.”
    Fletcher spoke like a plodding plow mule. “I turned the assignment in. We had a sub. She was new. Everyone got a letter.”
    The two of them stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door. Faster than I thought possible, I was up with my ear to the door. Andy dressed down Fletcher, more like the boy had invited pirates to pillage the family treasures than missing an English assignment. I turned and reached for my walker. Stopped.
    Huck stood outside, leaning against the white bark of a birch. He raised a finger to shush me. I waved him closer, but he slid down the tree to lean against its trunk and tapped his pipe on the ground.
    Hmph.
    I moved toward the window. Bee, ever vigilant about visitors, twitched in her sleep. “You’re missing a chance to play with a boy,” I said. That’s how utterly real Huck seemed to me. After all, I was leaving my battling son and grandson in hopes of some conversation. That didn’t seem right, even to me. “See you later, Huck.”
    I peeked out the bedroom door to see Andy and Fletcher now toe to toe. Andy barked orders at Fletcher. “This assignment. On my desk. In one hour!”
    An edge sharpened Fletcher’s voice. “You won’t be home in an hour.”
    Andy stabbed at Fletcher’s chest with a finger. “One hour!”
    â€œDad,” pleaded Fletcher open handed, “it’s only a vocab assignment, worth five stupid points. I did it in class. I have a chem lab due tomorrow and a test in calc the next day. I can’t redo the assignment and get it all done.”
    â€œThat’ll teach you to screw around when you have work to do. If you’re going to make anything of yourself—and as my son, you will—nothing can slip by. Trust me, there will always be someone to step into your place. Remember that.” And he slammed the office door.
    Fletcher took the stairs three at a time, mumbling something about Johnny Bench winning ten Gold Gloves for the Cincinnati Reds.
    Father, let your love reign here.

Chapter 8

    I’d surrendered my dream to run the Olympic marathon a few years earlier. A seventy-something woman outpacing long-legged runners was such a cliché anymore, but I experienced the same sense of triumph ambling down to the corner for the first time, albeit with a walker. The cold biting my cheeks only magnified my sense of accomplishment.
    A steady rumble of tires and engines sounded from the main north-south road only a few blocks away. On the trip to the surgeon, I’d seen buses loping along with the rise and fall of each intersection. Surely one of them ended up at the Greyhound station and on to Ouray. Forget that I couldn’t walk more than—I looked over my shoulder—twenty yards, maybe, or that carrying luggage was out of the question, or that Bee hadn’t learned her bus manners. I deflated as surely as if someone had poked me with a pin. I returned to the backyard to throw a ball for Bee.
    â€œHello there!” came a call through the fence. “Is that an actual dog barking?”
    I called over my shoulder