The You I Never Knew Part 34

Chapter 37.

Sam cleared away the Styrofoam remnants of Trudy's takeout. Never much of a cook, he felt lucky Cody had taken a shine to Trudy's burgers and pizza. Cody picked up his backpack and headed for the stairs. The two of them had been circling each other like a pair of wary dogs, giving a little here, taking a little there. In some moments, Sam felt a connection, but usually they were strangers. He kept telling himself to be patient. Most fathers had years to get to know their kids. He had only days.

"There's a Sonics game on tonight," he said. "You a Sonics fan?"

Cody paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Sort of."

Sam went into the den and flicked on the TV, filling the room with bluish light and the rapid-fire monologue of a basketball commentator. Without looking at Cody, Sam took a seat and gave his attention to the game. Cody sat on the end of the couch, poised to spring up and flee any minute. When a beer commercial came on, his attention wandered, touching on the stack of journals Sam didn't have time to read, the beige drapes, the photos of horses. Alice had tried to spiff the place up when they were married, but Sam had never put much effort into it. He didn't know diddly about fixing up a house to resemble a home.

Then Cody's gaze fixed on the large painting that hung over the fireplace. "Did my mom do that?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." Sam reached up and turned on the mantel light. "Have a look."

Cody stood with his hands dug into his back pockets, studying the winter scene. Sam kept his face neutral, remembering the day Mich.e.l.le had given him the painting. They had done everything teenagers are lectured not to do. They had unprotected s.e.x, they believed love would be enough, they dared to cross the invisible-but-rock-solid barrier of cla.s.s and privilege. The result had been a pair of broken hearts... and this boy.

"It's pretty awesome," Cody said, staring at the signature and date in the bottom corner.

Sam tried to imagine what was going through the kid's head just then as he stood looking at something his mother had done before he was born. He wondered if Cody was able to picture the girl she had been, to think of her as someone other than his mother. Probably not. That just wasn't the way a kid's mind worked. "Your mom says she doesn't paint anymore."

"She does stuff for work, mostly on the computer." He sat back down on the sofa. His expression gave no clue to his thoughts.

The game came on again, and Sam couldn't think of anything else to say. But he wanted to fill the silence, so he asked, "Did that Jeep run okay?"

"Yeah, it ran fine." Cody hesitated. "I gave Molly Lightning a ride home after school today."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that. Should he commend the boy for giving a ride to a friend? Admonish him to drive carefully and wear seat belts? Chastise him because he hadn't asked permission to give rides to pa.s.sengers?

He said, "You should have checked with me before offering rides to people."

Cody stared him straight in the eye. "Why?"

"Because I'm responsible for you."

Cody snorted. "Right."

"This week I am, d.a.m.n it-" Sam stopped, amazed to find that his pulse had sped up. This kid had a killer instinct when it came to pushing b.u.t.tons. "Okay, look," Sam said, pressing the mute b.u.t.ton on the remote control. "I should have told you not to take on pa.s.sengers unless you check with me first."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because I'm new to this, that's why. I'm making it up as I go along."

"That's obvious."

"You're not making it easy, Cody."

"Why should I?"

Sam clenched his teeth until he brought his temper back in check. In a slow drawl, he asked, "Are you enjoying this?"

"What, being here? h.e.l.l no," Cody said bluntly. "You're not having any fun, either, so maybe you should just send me back to Seattle to stay with Natalie." He patted his shirt pocket. "I have a copy of the bus schedule."

"Not an option," Sam said, his gaze flashing to the painting over the mantel. "I said I'd look after you this week, and that's what I'm going to do. We could probably have an okay time together if we could get past the bickering stage. What do you say?"

Cody picked up a thread on the arm of the sofa. "I don't see the point."

"Maybe there doesn't need to be a point. Look, you're a teenager. It's your job to question every rule and push at every boundary. It's my job to tell you the rules and boundaries. By not telling you about pa.s.sengers in the Jeep, I fell down on the job. So here's the rule-number of pa.s.sengers cannot exceed the number of seat belts. Got it?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"It's your job to tell me where you're going when you leave and what time you'll be back."

"I don't see why-"

"So if you don't show up, they'll know where to look for the body," Sam snapped.

Cody got to his feet. "Jeez, I didn't mean to start World War III. I just mentioned I gave a girl a ride home. She likes me. Is it so hard for you to believe someone likes me?"

"Christ, no, Cody. I like you. I want you to be safe. I want us to get along, okay?"

"Whatever," he muttered one last time, stooping to pick up his heavy backpack and heading for the stairs. "I've got some homework to do."

Crossing his arms across his chest, Sam scowled at the TV screen without really seeing it. The conversation had exposed glaring inadequacies he never knew he had, and it bugged the h.e.l.l out of him. As a parent, you had to figure out when to say yes and when to say no. When to praise and when to upbraid. And getting it right was harder than it seemed.

Wednesday

Chapter 38.

It wasn't until he pulled up to the barn at Lonepine after school the next day that Cody realized he'd forgotten to call Claudia-again. If he didn't keep in touch with her better, she was going to think he'd died or fallen off the planet or something.

But the days kept rolling along, the distance between here and Seattle seemed endless, and time got away from him.

Still, he should have phoned her. But he'd been so eager to get away from that frigging school that he'd roared off in the old Jeep without even remembering he'd meant to stop at Blue Rock and call Claudia. He didn't want to use Sam's phone for long-distance. Sam would probably let him, but Cody didn't want to ask.

He just didn't know where he stood with Sam. It was so weird being in his house, knowing the brand of shaving cream he used and what magazines he subscribed to, learning personal stuff about a stranger. Sometimes they had normal conversations and everything seemed fine, and then they'd rub each other the wrong way and argue. Cody kept trying to tell himself it didn't matter. He kept telling himself he didn't want to know this guy. He'd done fine without a father and he didn't need one now.

Sam McPhee was a hard guy to know. He sure as h.e.l.l wasn't a guy Cody wanted to ask favors from, like phone permission.

Ah, well, he thought, swinging down from the driver's seat, he'd call Claudia tomorrow.

The Border collie came racing across the yard, barking her foolish face off. She knew Cody by now, having slept at the foot of his bed the past few nights. She launched herself like a missile at him. He caught her in his arms, staggering back a little with the motion, and laughed as she licked his face. It felt good, having someone greet you with this level of enthusiasm.

When they got back to Seattle, he'd talk his mom into getting a dog or a cat, maybe.

"That's loyalty for you," Sam said, ambling across from the house. "The minute I turn my back, I find my best girl in the arms of another man."

Cody tried not to grin as he set down the dog. "How's the new horse doing today?"

"Come on back and see for yourself." Sam didn't spend a long time looking at Cody, studying him. He just turned, totally casual, and ambled away.

Cody wondered if Sam was just naturally cool, or if he didn't care, or if he didn't want to get involved with a kid he didn't know. Maybe Cody was trying to read too much into Sam's att.i.tude. It was hard as h.e.l.l not to ask a bunch of questions, but he'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd make the first move.

Seeing the filly wiped out all his worries for a while. She acted as if she was happy to see him, frisking around the stall and thumping the walls, b.u.t.ting up against the mare. When the mare tried to eat, the filly kept trotting back and forth in front of her. With a quick, exasperated motion, the mare shoved the filly bodily away.

"Hey, why'd she do that?" Cody asked.

"The filly got in the way of what the mare wanted. She didn't hurt it." Sam drummed his fingers on the stall door, catching the filly's attention to distract it while Sylvia ate. "I was thinking she'll need a name one of these days. I have to register her papers."

"Yeah?"

"What do you think we ought to call her?"

Cody looked at the horse, and everything that crossed his mind was hokey and cute. Brownie. Blaze. Socks. He shrugged. "I don't know. Whatever."

Sam crossed his feet and propped his shoulder on the side of the stall. "A good horse might be around for twenty, thirty years. You have to make sure you pick the right name."

"So pick one."

"How about you pick it?"

"Why me?"

"You brought this animal into the world. I thought you might like to be the one to name her."

Cody shrugged again. s.h.i.t. He didn't know how to act. How did kids act around their fathers, anyway? "I can't think of anything."

"Maybe something will come to you. You let me know, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

The foal got tired and curled up in the straw for a nap. The mare fussed and licked at it for a while. It was amazing how she seemed to know exactly what to do.

"Do you have homework?" Sam asked. Then he shook his head. "Feels strange asking that."

You think you feel strange, thought Cody. "I did it in study hall."

"Okay, then you can get started on ch.o.r.es." Before Cody could reply, Sam held out a shovel and said, "It's good having you around."

Cody glanced at him sharply. What was good? His company? Or his manure-shoveling skills? Sam didn't say, and Cody didn't ask. They went to the tack room, put on quilted coveralls and gloves. Cody was mildly pleased to see Sam pick up a shovel, too. After the usual stall duties, today's task was to clean out the oat bins, getting rid of the moldy stuff on the bottom, scouring the galvanized metal bins, and replacing the oats.

"Ever given any thought to what you want to do after high school?" Sam asked.

"Some. I haven't made up my mind, though."

"You interested in college?"

"Sure. Most people go to UW. That's probably where I'll end up."

It helped that they were working as they talked. For some reason, it felt more natural to talk during the rhythm of the shovels. This week had to be the strangest time of Cody's life, starting a new school while his mom and grandfather did the kidney transplant. Talking didn't make things any better, but it didn't make things worse, either.

"You'll probably like college," Sam remarked. "I liked it a lot."

Cody wondered what it had been like for Sam and his mom, years ago, making a baby together and then never seeing each other again. He pushed away the thought and got back to work. Even though the ch.o.r.es were a drag, Cody sort of liked being out here, messing around with the horses and going all over on a snowmobile.

"What do you think of horse ranching?" Sam asked, reaching for a hose.

Cody snorted, chagrined that he even looked as if he might be enjoying himself. "It's a barrel of laughs." He stabbed his shovel into a mound of manure. The strange dance of uncertainty between him and Sam McPhee made him nervous.

At sunset, Sam and Edward were in the pole barn, replacing the spark plugs in a snowmobile. Two car doors slammed. Sam walked out to the drive to see Cody and Tammi Lee going toward the house.

"Almost suppertime," Tammi Lee called. She gestured at the two pizza boxes Cody balanced in his hands.

"We'll be in shortly." Sam grinned with the fine pleasure of seeing his mother and his son together. Family had always been in short supply for him. This was a new sensation for him. Did he like it, or was it something a guy like him was better off without?

"I think he likes it here," Sam said. "I think he even likes my mother."

Rummaging in a tool box, Edward regarded him sharply. "So you getting attached to the kid?"

"He's my kid." The wonder of it still swept through Sam each time he said the words. "What, I'm not supposed to get attached?"

"I didn't say that. But what happens when they leave?"

A blunt question, one that had been nagging at Sam. "It's not like they live on another planet," he said.

A faint yelp echoed down from the hill beyond the paddock. Edward shaded his eyes. "Hey, check this out."

Sam followed his gaze and felt a cold churn of fear in his gut. It was Scout, hurrying toward them-but not with her usual swift and joyous abandon. "She's hurt," he said, breaking into a run. He reached the collie halfway down the hill. A smear of blood marked her trail. It came from a long slash down her foreleg. Four scratches furrowed her muzzle.

"Hey, what's the matter with Scout?" Cody asked, jumping down off the porch and hurrying toward Sam.

Scooping up the dog, Sam hurried to the tack room. In one corner was a stainless-steel table and a couple of exam lights. He set her down, eyes and hands scanning her injuries.

"She need the vet?" Edward asked.

"Let's have a look." While Sam took off his gloves, Cody went around the other side of the table and murmured the dog's name, stroking her. Sam met the boy's eyes. "Keep her calm. I need to check out this cut." Edward opened the large first-aid wall station, stocked with instruments and supplies, and Sam used the clippers to trim away the long white-and-black hair, exposing a wicked gash.