Matt said he had no instincts where women were concerned, but she was amazed by them. He seemed to give her plenty of space while staying near. At about eight that night he went out for ice cream, which they ate in bed, then they talked a little while about ordinary things—she wanted to know about the grapes and pears. He wanted to know about her flowers and Grace’s mother. He told her they’d be breeding sheep at George’s in the late fall. He was slated to teach a few classes as a visiting professor in the fall after the harvest. She was looking forward to the harvest celebrations and food.

At the first light of dawn Ginger woke to the gentle stroke of Matt’s rough hand on her upper arm. She turned to him and smiled.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Okay. You?”

He just nodded. “If you think you’ll be all right, I should get back to the farm.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I was there.”

“I meant, thank you for going to his grave even though I might not have been there. He wasn’t part of your life. That was one of the nicest things anyone has done for me.”

“You’re part of my life,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”

He pulled on his clothes and slid out the door quietly.

Fourteen

Lin Su got into the car to go to Winnie’s house. Her son was already in the passenger seat, his backpack in the back. “I brought you a clean shirt,” she told Charlie. “After you knock around the beach and town all day, we’re having dinner with Winnie and her family because I’m taking a turn at cooking. They’d like you to come, too.”

“You don’t usually cook,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“You’re right, I don’t. But this is a very unusual job. I’m the nursing help but the whole family is around. Usually when I’m the nursing help, it’s just me and the patient with maybe one or two other relatives checking in.”

“And then when I came with you, I could just watch TV,” he said.

True enough, she thought. Her patient would usually be in the bedroom and as long as Charlie didn’t mess up the house, kept the volume very low and didn’t eat their food, he could tag along and no one knew the difference.

“Troy said you can watch the TV in their game room downstairs as long as you don’t mess up the house. You can use your computer just about anywhere, upstairs or down—you can jump on their Wi-Fi. Not too much computer or TV, though. We have to stay out of the way of these people or I’ll lose my job.”

Actually, Troy had not been specific about the messy house or about the amount of time Charlie spent watching TV. He had said Charlie was welcome in the house whenever he wanted or needed to be.

“I’m an expert at staying out of the way...”

“And do I have to tell you how bad it would be if I lost my job?”

“No,” he said. “I think I get it.” His tone was sarcastic as they’d been over this a thousand times.

She went over it once more. Money was tight. Very tight. A nurse didn’t earn enough to support a family. A single parent had a lot of trouble making ends meet. She never said it aloud but the truth was, they lived on the edge of poverty in an old rented trailer in a crappy mobile-home park. She hated leaving Charlie at home; their neighborhood was rough. Having him around Thunder Point so she could check on him now and then was much better.

“So, there’s a clean shirt. You can wash up and put on a clean shirt for dinner. Be sure to wipe up the bathroom behind yourself...”

“Why are you cooking?” he asked.

“I offered. Everyone was choosing a night to cook, even Mikhail, the old Russian. God knows what that will be...”

“Maybe borscht,” he offered.

Lin Su laughed. He was so funny sometimes. She looked over at him. So small, so nerdy. So adorable.

“What are you doing today? Any plans?”

He shrugged. “I’ll be busy on and off. Troy and Spencer don’t mind having me around. Troy said he might put me to work. When it’s not busy in Cooper’s it’s okay if I get a table inside and use my laptop. I get out of there if a lot of people come in. And if I’m charged up, I can always use it in the car. Don’t worry, okay? No one knows how to stay out of the way like me.”

Her vision blurred slightly. “Charlie...”

“Don’t get emotional, okay? Because we’re fine. Everything is temporary.”

“Not too temporary, I hope. Mrs. Banks is holding her own and with any luck she’ll be with us a good long while. It’s a nice place to work. You have money?”

“Never used the money you gave me two days ago.”

“How’d you buy lunch?”

“Didn’t have to,” he said. “I was hanging out at the dock and Troy made us sandwiches. I told him I had money for lunch and he said it wasn’t necessary.”

“I could have made you lunch,” she said. “I could have made something while I was fixing Mrs. Banks’s lunch. Or while she napped.”

Charlie sighed. “He made it in the same kitchen, Mom. We’re good.”

“Did you ask what was in it?”

“I checked, Mom. It wasn’t peanut butter or anything like that. You have to relax.”

She took a breath. “You have your inhaler? EpiPen? Sunscreen? Vitamins? Power bars and fruit drinks?”

He glanced at her. He pushed his glasses up on his nose again.

“Yeah, I guess you have everything,” she said.

“I think Troy or Landon might take me out on the paddleboard today.”

“Oh, Charlie...”

“It’s okay so don’t freak. I’m not falling in or anything.”

She appreciated that he wasn’t paranoid about his fragile health but she thought one plunge into the cold Pacific could bring on an asthma attack or bronchitis or pneumonia.

“I haven’t been sick,” he reminded her, reading her mind.

“Last winter,” she said.

“I didn’t go to the hospital and I haven’t had asthma attacks or allergic reactions. Not too many, anyway. I had a doctor who said there was a good chance I’d grow out of it and even though I haven’t grown that much, I’m leaving all that shit behind.”

“Your language,” she said.

“Is entirely appropriate,” he argued. “It’s all a lot of shit and you know it.”

She completely understood the attitude. It wasn’t just his disgust with chronic illness, it was also his impatience with a mother who watched every bite he took, every move he made, listening to every breath. In fact, those days she started out tired were usually caused by her inability to sleep, listening to him snoring or wheezing or the whistling of his sinuses.

There had been times during the first ten years of his life that he’d been so sick, so weak and fragile, that she feared losing him. Complicated allergies, a weak immune system and asthma conspired against him, leaving him vulnerable to infections and viruses.

It was true—in the past few years he’d gotten stronger. It was also true that she hadn’t relaxed enough yet. But what mother wouldn’t understand sitting vigil at the bedside of a small boy in an oxygen tent? She’d lost years of her life every time he was hospitalized. She’d felt so alone.