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The Pieces We Keep(55)

By:Kristina McMorris


“Careful now, Jack,” Audra said. “Try not to get ketchup on your cast.” She took care in articulating his name. Ever since last night, when calling him Jakob had distinctly soothed him, she feared making the same mistake—almost as much as she feared the reason it had worked. On the drive over, she had asked him about the name, undeniably similar to his own. As usual, he shook his head.

Whose idea had it been to call him Jack in the first place? Hers or Devon’s, she couldn’t remember. It wasn’t a family name. No specific actor or athlete or character in a book sprang to mind as the inspiration.

Not that it mattered.

“So, Robert, how’s business going?” she asked while scooping up fruit cocktail.

“Pretty well,” he said. “They tell me no walls have fallen down this week. So far.”

“That’s always good news.”

Meredith said, “What about you, Audra? Any word from your interviews?” She seemed more interested than investigative, a welcomed difference from before.

“There might be an opportunity. Nothing set yet.” In actuality, as of this morning, a solid option had materialized. But she would save that for a private discussion. She diverted the subject, perpetuating small talk as they all enjoyed their lunch.

To Meredith’s credit, her mentions of Devon were limited, her efforts for levity clear. Always a teacher, she entertained Jack with fun facts that ranged from the formation of Multnomah Falls to squirrel-proofing her garden with mothballs and cayenne pepper.

When the time came, the couple went inside to prepare for the finale. Audra transferred gifts from the car to the back deck, where Robert assembled a mound of presents. On this day above any, Audra saw the value of a grandparent’s duty to spoil.

They all sang “Happy Birthday” as Meredith carried out the cake. It was shaped like a moon, with candles surrounding a big wax 8. A sign protruded from airbrushed craters: Happy birthday to our shooting star!

Robert snapped his camera. “Make a wish, Beanstalk.”

Jack’s concentration rivaled that of a surgeon. The candles dripped into puddles of color. He blew out the flames and the group applauded. It seemed they all shared a common wish, based on the quiet that set in like a low-lying cloud. The tearing of wrapping paper helped hide the tension, as did Jack’s pleasure over his toys, books, and clothes.

Audra had just finished her cake, chocolate with raspberry filling, when Meredith rose to clear the table. “Audra, would you mind grabbing the bowls?”

“Not at all.”

As Audra assisted in gathering, Jack salvaged crumbs from his plate. He chuckled at the frosting that fringed his grandpa’s mustache. The sound, though brief, was powerful enough to make Audra contemplate her plans; there was much to gain from a drastic relocation, but there also would be loss.

“Holy Toledo, I forgot to bring out the best gift yet,” she heard Robert say as she stepped into the house.

In the kitchen, Meredith rinsed off plates and cups for the dishwasher. Without being asked, she shifted away from the sink, giving Audra access to the trash can below. Audra deposited a wad of dirty napkins and closed the cupboard with her foot. The routine here, together, filled her with a rush of the familiar. A choreography she missed.

“Looks like Jack’s still having bad dreams,” Meredith said, without turning from the sink.

“Yeah. He is.”

The drooping of his eyes, or Audra’s, must have given them away. After all, she had provided few updates since the festival. She hadn’t deliberately avoided the woman’s calls, but neither had she raced to return them.

Meredith’s demeanor told her this hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“I’m sorry we’ve been out of touch lately,” Audra said.

“There’s just been some issues with Jack, and I’ve been trying to figure it all out.”

“Well, you know Jack’s welfare always comes first for us.”

“I do.”

Meredith scrubbed at a grill spatula, the charred pieces not budging. Her skin grew splotchy from the intensity of her efforts.

Soaking the tool in suds would be better, letting the grime ease gradually rather than forcing it clean. But who was Audra to say as much? The same advice could apply to her own life.

Maybe Meredith was right; distance from family could prove more damaging, and not just for Jack, but Audra too. Her parents were prime examples.

“Meredith,” she said softly. “I could really use your help.”

At this, Meredith shut off the faucet and turned. Her expression underscored how long it had been since Audra had confided in her about anything.

Meredith nodded, encouraging her to continue.