AARP Hearing Center
Illustration by Nick Matej
13
“You live near here, don’t you?”
“Up the mountain a bit, in a cabin on Creek Hill,” Cam Kolbaugh said.
“Great area for photographing wildlife.” The reporter jotted a note.
Cam adjusted his camera strap. “Some of the best.”
“Have you managed to get any shots of the blackbirds?”
Cam reviewed the photos on his camera. “Haven’t been able to capture a clear shot quite yet.” He turned the screen toward the reporter.
“Blurry and hazy. Is that because it’s a night shot?”
Cam clicked a button, and the screen went black. His gaze shifted toward the back of the café, out the window to the mulberry trees. “I don’t think so.”
Natalie
“I should just cancel,” I said under my breath as I hotfooted it from the little house to my car parked at the far end of the driveway.
It had been a day.
Actually, it had been a week.
A week of dealing with my mother’s chill because I hadn’t asked her to watch Ollie while I worked at the café, which was in addition to her iciness that I had taken the part-time job in the first place.
There had been nonstop guests at the café—people who’d come to see the blackbirds, a phenomenon I admit I thought would fizzle within a few days but only seemed to be picking up steam.
I was already worried about Ollie’s swimming lesson the next morning and trying my hardest not to think of her going under the water and not coming back up.
On top of it all, I was dreading the appointment I had with the grief counselor down in Fort Payne this afternoon. I’d almost canceled three times in the last few days and was currently mulling it again.
Even the thought of talking about Matt dredged up emotions I’d rather keep tamped down. It was easier that way. I’d been fending off panic attacks left and right this week, and I was spent from the effort.
If not for my father, I might already have the answers that would bring about peace in my life.
You’re not going to find healing in a piece of pie, Natalie. The healing’s got to come from within you.
It was one thing to disappoint my mother on purpose, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same with my father, so I tried to take his words to heart. I hadn’t eaten the pie, and I’d made the appointment with the counselor. Baby steps.
If this appointment in any way, shape, or form helped me to be a better mother to Ollie, it would be worth it. The last thing I ever wanted was for Ollie to witness one of my panic attacks—something she’d come too close to seeing recently. As much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, I needed help.
The small brown bird that I’d been seeing a lot lately sat on the fence railing next to my car, not looking the least bit disturbed by my presence as it used its beak to clean under its crooked wing. The ribbon of black coloring near its eye made it look like it had drawnon eyebrows, and the thought of a bird wearing makeup suddenly lightened my mood.
The blooming pink viburnums lining the driveway filled the air with a sweet floral scent, which was a whole lot more pleasant than the perfume of bacon, coffee, biscuits, and chicken-fried steak that I’d worn home from work.
Unwilling to go to my appointment smelling like the café, I’d taken precious minutes to shower. I braided my wet hair, since I didn’t have time to style it properly, and changed into a long light-weight skirt and sleeveless blouse. I chose my loosest sandals, ones that wouldn’t rub my healing blisters. A salve Anna Kate had given me had worked wonders, but the new skin was still tender.
As quick as I’d cleaned myself up, I was still running late. Since most everywhere in Wicklow was walkable, it had been a month since I’d driven my tiny white hatchback. The neglect showed. The rain that had come through the night before had smeared together the dirt and pollen that encased the car, making the paint job look like it had been done at the hands of an Impressionist. I couldn’t remember how much gas I had left in the tank, and then there was the matter of the dangling muffler. Crouching down, I peeked under the bumper and saw that someone—most likely my father—had placed a plastic pan under the car to catch dripping oil.
He was forever cleaning up my messes.
I made the quick decision that the muffler was on its own—I didn’t have time to fuss with it. At the filling station on the way out of town, I’d stop to see if someone could add a quart of oil to the engine while I filled the gas tank.
It would all be fine.
Just fine.
Absolutely fine.
I dropped my head into my hands, took a deep breath to pull myself together, and Lord help me, I swore I could still smell hickorysmoked bacon on my fingers.
A quivery female voice came from nearby. “Don’t you cancel that appointment, Natalie.”
My head snapped up as I looked around. I didn’t see anyone. “Hello?”
Slowly turning in a circle, my gaze swept the area, zeroing in on places where someone could hide. Other than a few birds and some bees, I was alone as far as I could tell.
Chill bumps rose along my skin. The voice, I realized, sounded exactly like the one that had woken me last week.
Your father is dying.
I’d done my level best to forget that unsettling declaration, chalking it up to a bad dream. But now … I wasn’t sure what was going on. Could be I was overheated and my mind was playing tricks. It was hot and humid.
Throwing a wary look over my shoulder, I started wondering if the voice was my conscience speaking. I didn’t know what that theory meant in terms of my father and his health, however.
I threw a glance at the big house. I had spent much of this past Sunday’s supper studying him, looking for any trace that he was ill. On the surface, he didn’t appear to be. If I was nitpicking, I’d say his skin color was a bit off, but I didn’t know if that was because he’d been golfing the day before and had a bit of a sunburn, or if it was due to something else.
There were other things I’d noticed—only because I’d been looking. His appetite wasn’t near to normal. He’d taken smaller portions and had poked at most of it. He’d seemed a little slower to lift up Ollie as well, as though he were in pain.
When I questioned him, he blamed his lack of an appetite on stress, and the pain on his golf game.
If I didn’t know him so well, I’d have sworn he was lying.
But he didn’t lie. It was one of his traits I loved most.
Still, by the time I went home that night, I couldn’t ignore the pit in my stomach that something wasn’t right with him. Whether it was the business with Anna Kate or something else … I wasn’t sure.
“Git!” the voice said in a high-pitched tone, darn near operatic.
It sounded like it was coming from the driver’s side of the car, near the fence, but there was nothing there but the bushes and that fastidious bird.
“I’m going,” I said loudly, and there was no mistaking the irritability in my tone.
Car keys in hand, I prayed to the good Lord above that the car started. It was looking more and more likely that I’d be a few minutes late for my appointment. Which, now that I considered it, might not be a bad thing. A short initial meeting appealed to me. Get in, scratch the surface of my issues, get out. Nothing too deep or painful.
Leaving the door open to let the car exhale its hot, stale air, I slid behind the wheel and groaned at the pulsing wave of blazing heat that nearly pushed me right back out. I tossed my purse on the passenger seat and leaned across to roll down the window, hoping a stiff breeze would blow through. Hurricane-force winds seemed delightful at the moment. The window stuck halfway, but I didn’t have time to fight with it.
Sweat rose along my forehead as I put the key in the ignition. “Please start, please start, please start.”
The engine coughed like an asthmatic at the perfume counter in a department store but didn’t turn over. Taking a deep breath, I tried the ignition again, pressing gently on the gas pedal, hoping a little fuel would help the situation.
Unfortunately it didn’t do anything other than fill the car with the odor of gas.
After counting to ten in my head, I turned the key again. The engine sputtered, died, and the scent of burning oil filtered through the vents. Cursing a blue streak, I pulled the key. The car would be no good to me at all if it caught fire, and though it probably deserved a quick, flaming death, I didn’t want that to happen.
I’d scraped and scrounged and saved the money to buy the used car after Matt’s death. Long after our two much-fancier cars had been repossessed. The hatchback was a bare-bones model. No fancy power windows, no radio. Its stick shift tended to, appropriately, stick, and the clutch made ungodly groaning noises. But it was mine.
I popped the hood, even though I had no earthly idea what I was looking for. Mama would have had a stroke if she ever caught me looking under the hood of a car, let alone tinkering with an engine. I could practically hear her now making a comment about who’d keep food on the mechanics’ tables if we tended to our own cars, and did I want taking food out of babies’ mouths on my conscience? Never even mind the grease issues.
As I lifted the hood I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to see, but it surely wasn’t a hastily formed bird’s nest sitting right smack-dab on top of the battery. There was a single speckled egg in the nest that looked a lot like a mottled rock.
Even if I had been able to get the car started, there was no way I could bring myself to remove that nest. Not until after the egg hatched and the baby bird flew away.
My car wasn’t going anywhere for quite a while.
Apparently, neither was I.
Closing my eyes, I waited for that singsong-y voice to tell me what to do now, since it was being so bossy this afternoon. Instead, I picked up the sound of barking. Barking that seemed to be growing louder and closer.
I peeked around the hood. Racing toward me up the driveway was a dark gray cat being chased by—I squinted—River, Cam Kolbaugh’s dog. Both animals ran at full speed, one barking, one growling.
“River! Stop! Heel!” I jumped in front of him and tried to grab his collar. He darted around me. The cat, one I recognized as a local stray who’d been around for what seemed like decades, zipped under the car’s bumper, hissing the whole way, his ears flattened.
River followed the cat under, dropping his belly to the ground like he was taking part in some sort of army obstacle course.
“No, no!” I looked under the car. “Heel!”
Still yowling, they both avoided the pan of oil—thank God—and emerged on the other side of the car, near the passenger door. The cat took off again, circling around the car, River on his heels.
The noise of it all was about to do me in when screeching tires added to the ear-splitting chorus. Cam had parked his truck at the end of the driveway. “River!” he shouted, breaking into a sprint. “Down!”
The cat made his way back to me and leaped into the car, onto the driver’s seat. I quickly slammed the door before River could go in after him.
Still barking his head off, River set his mud-crusted paws on the door and rose up on his hind legs to look through the window. The suddenly serene cat looked quite smug as he watched River slobber on the glass. One ear came up, then the other, which I noticed was scarred. Probably from a run-in with a dog at some point. The cat’s head tipped to the side, and he began washing his face, using a paw to stroke his cheek.
I grabbed River by the collar, keeping tight hold as Cam quickly clipped on a leash.
“Down, boy.”
River glanced up at Cam, then slowly sat down, inch by inch, as if it were the last thing in the whole world he wanted to do.
“What was that all about?” he asked the dog.
River panted and wagged his tail.
To me, Cam said, “We were driving home when River suddenly jumped out the open window. I don’t know what came over him— he’s never done anything like that before.”
I pointed inside the car. “A cat came over him.”
But the cat was gone. I looked around. “He must have gone out the passenger window.”
Cam scratched at his beard, and there was confusion in his tone when he said, “River’s never gone after cats before.”
“I’m sure the cat instigated it, right, River?” I patted his head.
Cam smiled. He had on mud-splattered hiking pants and a blue moisture-wicking shirt, also covered in grime. “Don’t go giving him ideas that it’s okay to chase cats.” He spotted the open hood and said, “Car trouble?”
“If by trouble you mean catastrophe, then yes.”
Looking under the hood, Cam whistled. “Looks like a squatter’s made herself right at home, and that’s the least of the problems.”
“Can’t say I blame her. The car hasn’t budged since I parked it here a month ago.”
“This is your car?” The confusion was back in his voice, along with a touch of judgment.
“Yes. Why?” I put my hands on my hips. “Just making sure,” he said quickly.
He leaned in and poked around the engine. “Wait a sec.” He reached in and touched the egg. “This is a rock.”
“What?”
“It’s a rock.” He held it out to me.
“How did it get in the nest?”
“Can’t say I know, but that bird’s going to be sorely disappointed when the rock doesn’t hatch.” He gently put the stone back into the nest. “But, even with no nest, this car isn’t going anywhere without a tow truck.”
I sighed. “It’s my fault for not checking on it sooner, but I didn’t need it.”
“And you do today?”
“I have an appointment down in Fort Payne … had. I was already running late. By the time I track down a car to borrow I’ll have missed the appointment altogether.”
“Well, come on.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll take you down. My truck’s right here. Let’s go.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? You don’t want to go to the appointment?”
That question hit too close to home. “It’ll waste your whole afternoon.”
“I have some errands down there I’ve been putting off. I can get those done while you’re busy. You’re actually doing me a favor, putting an end to my procrastination.”
Meeting his gaze, I held it. I wanted to say no thanks, go collect Ollie from Faylene’s house, and settle in for the night. But I could also feel the anxiety under the surface of my skin, poking and prodding me to do the right thing. “Put that way, okay, I’ll go with you to do your errands.”
He laughed as I grabbed my purse from the car, and within minutes we were on our way out of town. His pickup was a newer model with all the bells and whistles, and I couldn’t help smiling at the comparison to my junker.
Between me and Cam, River had settled in, his head on my leg, and he kept trying to lick my fingers. I knew I’d smelled bacon on them.
“Where are we headed?” Cam asked.
I pulled a piece of paper from my bag and read off the address. “It’s a medical building.”
He looked over. “You feeling okay?”
I rubbed River’s ears, which had flecks of mud stuck to the fur. “Physically, yes.”
He gave a firm, understanding nod. “Counseling?”
“I thought I was done with therapy, and I don’t particularly want to go back, but …” I shrugged, wondering why I was telling him all this. Maybe it was because he seemed to understand what I was going through—something most people couldn’t even fathom.
“To my way of thinking, it can’t hurt to go back. But it could help, right?”
“Have you ever been?”
“Sure. Unit-mandated, but I continued on my own after I got out.”
“Unit?”
“Sorry—I thought you knew. Most people around here seem to, though I don’t talk about it much.”
“Small towns …” I said, my tone sympathetic.
“I was a Green Beret.” His eyes darkened with a haze of sadness. River shifted, lifting his head off my leg. He pressed his nose into Cam’s thigh.
By Cam’s reaction, I should have stopped right there with the questions, but I was curious about this man. How had he gone from being a highly trained soldier to being a wildlife photographer? “How long were you in?”
“Seven years.” He petted River’s head. “I’ve been out for three.”
There was an emptiness in his voice that made my heart ache. I could only imagine what he’d seen and done to protect and survive. “Do you regret it? Your time as a soldier?”
He kept his eyes on the road, looking like he was debating answering before he finally said, “I don’t regret fighting for the country, protecting the soldiers I served with. But I definitely lost more in those years than I gained. Including good friends in combat and ultimately my marriage.”
There was absolutely nothing I could say that would help him in any way—I knew that from my own experiences with grief and trying to get on with life. But, as he showed me the other day, sometimes all it took to provide a little comfort was to just sit and be with someone else. “There’s a bench I know that’s great for sitting and watching the world go by. I’d be happy to sit with you for a while, if you ever feel the need.”
“I’ll remember that. Thanks, Natalie.”
“Anytime, Cam.”
We drove in silence for a while, and River eventually shifted his head back to me and my bacon scent. Mud from his ears flecked off onto my skirt.
“Were you two mudding today?” I asked.
“It feels that way, but no. We went down to Lake Martin early this morning to get some pictures of bald eagles—there’s a beautiful nest down there. We got a little too into our work, didn’t we, buddy?”
I instantly broke out in a cold sweat. My stomach pitched, and my head swirled. I slammed my eyes shut against the image of Matt’s bloated face.
“Natalie? Don’t hold your breath. It makes it worse.”
As I gulped in air, I felt Cam’s hand on my arm, warm and firm.
Rocks hit the undercarriage as the truck slowed to a stop on the side of the road. I heard the window go down. Hot, soggy air hit my face.
River whimpered and nudged my leg with his nose as Cam said, “Slow and steady breaths. Easy there. Good. That’s good. In. Out.”
Trying to focus on breathing, I rocked in my seat and felt Cam’s hand on my back, rubbing it in gentle circles.
“Did I ever tell you about the time Josh and I decided to sneak out of our house to go to a party a town over? I was sixteen, he was fifteen, and this party was the talk of school. Everybody was going. Somehow our mother caught wind of it and forbade us to go. As a single mom, she gave us a lot of leeway growing up, but for some reason she put her foot down that night.”
I opened my eyes—he was leaning in close to me and had a devilish look in his eyes. His hand kept rubbing my back.
“We, of course, were not to be deterred. Mom was an early bird and rarely could stay awake past ten at night. She wears earplugs to bed and sleeps like the dead. Josh and I thought we were golden. At midnight we climbed out a window in the spare bedroom at the back of the house. A buddy of ours picked us up and took us over to the party. We were there for five minutes, tops, when all hell broke loose. Had to be a least a hundred kids there. Fights broke out. Someone started busting windows. The cops came and everyone scattered. The cops caught the friend who drove us there, so Josh and I ran as fast as we’d ever run in our whole lives. Took us four hours to walk back to our neighborhood.”
My stomach started to settle and the dizziness faded.
“All we wanted to do was get home, go to bed, and forget the night ever happened. Hell, we hadn’t even gotten a beer out of it for all that effort.”
I smiled and rubbed River’s perked ears, which relaxed under my touch.
“So we finally get home and make to get back inside. Only the window’s stuck. Won’t open. None of them will. And while we were trying our damnedest to get into the house, a policeman shows up.
Someone had reported seeing suspicious characters trying to break in.”
I smiled at him—his wry tone was completely captivating.
“Stop me if I already told you how all this ends,” he said, his warm gaze feeling like a hug.
I cleared my throat. “You know full well that we only met last week and you haven’t told me anything, so don’t leave me hanging.”
He tugged on his beard. “Oh, that’s right. Just feels like I’ve known you forever. Where was I? Right. The policeman. He doesn’t believe Josh and me that we live there. And Mom doesn’t answer when he knocks—like I said, she sleeps like the dead until her internal clock goes off at five a.m. The policeman hauls us down to the police station, sticks us in a jail cell. We didn’t get offered a phone call, nothing. By noon, Josh is blubbering, certain that Mom was going to kill us on the spot when she found out where we were. I was trying to figure out a way to break out of our cell.” Cam pulled his hand from my back, checked over his shoulder, and pulled onto the road.
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