Currant Creek Valley(83)

“Hi, Dad!” Ethan exclaimed when he spotted him. His son grinned and ran to him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist, and the tension that came from dealing with contractors and job headaches and tourist traffic miraculously dissipated.

“Hey, there, kiddo. Did you have a good day?”

“Yes! I made a really cool bowl with a picture of a fish on it—I painted an Atlantic salmon—and it’s going to be fired in a real kiln tonight.”

“Wow. Very cool. Hi, Claire. Owen.”

“Hi, Mr. Delgado,” Owen said politely.

“Hi, Sam.”

To his delight, Claire gave him a hug in greeting around the bulk of her pregnant belly. The warm, generous welcome of so many in town still took him by surprise.

“Tell me you’re not running the art camp, along with everything else in town,” he said.

She looked slightly aghast at the idea. “Oh, my word, no. I was just picking up Owen. He’s been coming to the art camp every year since he was old enough and loves it.”

“This year we’ve been doing some computer animation. It’s very cool!”

“Great.”

Seeing Claire made him automatically think of Alexandra and he wanted to ask how she was doing. He hadn’t seen her since the memorial service for her friend Caroline the week before.

He had felt a little weird about going since he didn’t really know the woman, had only met her the very day of her death, but he had decided to attend for Alexandra’s sake, if nothing else.

She had looked pale and distant; her features that normally glowed with life had been tight and withdrawn. He had tried several times to talk to her, to convey his sympathies, but she had studiously avoided him.

Frustrated and, yes, rather hurt that she would turn away the comfort he wanted to offer, he had finally reminded himself everyone grieved differently. He certainly had learned that after Kelli’s death.

On some days after his wife’s funeral, he had wanted to sit on the couch and flip aimlessly through channels on the television so he didn’t have to think. Others, he had to throw himself into frenzied work to keep the gnawing pain away.

He had a feeling Alexandra was in the last camp. She hadn’t been around her house much, which meant she was probably working most of the time. Their disparate work schedules complicated the situation—he generally worked early in the morning until late afternoon and she went into work early afternoons until late at night at the restaurant, which made it difficult to connect, even if she had wanted to.

Which she plainly didn’t.

The two boys were talking about some of the things they enjoyed in art camp. Because of their age difference, they were apparently on different tracks and Owen was telling Ethan about some of the activities he could look forward to in future years. He found it curious that Ethan had always been comfortable talking with adults or older peers, though he sometimes grew impatient and frustrated with children his own age.

The boys’ conversation gave him the chance to speak more directly to Claire than he might have if Owen and Ethan had been paying attention to them.

“How is Alexandra doing?” he finally asked. “I’ve tried to talk to her since the memorial service for Mrs. Bybee but I can’t seem to run her to ground.”

Concern darkened her eyes. “She tries to hide it and go on like nothing is wrong but she’s pretty broken up inside. She and Caroline were very close. Alex even lived in Caro’s basement when she came back from Europe. I haven’t seen her like this in a long time, maybe even since her dad left.”

“Her dad left?” He frowned, feeling stupid for his ignorance. Why hadn’t she told him about such a crucial part of her life?

Claire also seemed surprised he didn’t know. “She never told you the gory details?”

“No.”

“Well, I suppose I should respect her decision not to share it.”

She paused, her mouth twisted into a frown. “On the other hand, it’s not exactly some kind of secret, since it affected the whole family, so why not?”

Yes. Why not? he wanted to say. Any tidbit of information he could find out about Alexandra might help him understand why she struggled so hard to keep him away.

“Alex and I were in high school when he left. Her dad was a high school science teacher and very well respected in town. One day, out of the blue, he just decided he didn’t want to be tied down by a family anymore. Call it a midlife crisis or whatever but James McKnight decided he wanted to pursue his professional dreams and he didn’t think he could do that while he was stuck in Hope’s Crossing raising six children and teaching surly teenagers about protons and neutrons. He dropped everything and left to take a job on an archaeology dig near Mesa Verde. He never came back and was killed a few years later in a site accident.”