Page 503 of Summer Heat
“I’m tired,” she admitted. “But we’re almost through it all now.”
Lance took her hand, clasping it between both of his. This was her sweet son—the little lover. As a child, he’d come downstairs in the morning and found her wherever she was, to give her a hug, first thing. Even as a teenager, he’d take her arm when they were out shopping, and put his arm around her when he introduced her to his friends. It was a rare thing in a man.
“I miss him already,” he said now in a rough voice.
“I know you do.” She brushed a lock of hair from his face. He’d been so stoic at the funeral, she worried about him. “You had a real special relationship with him. A man who is loved by his son can’t have lived too bad a life.”
Lance nodded, and she saw his eyes glimmer with unshed tears. He swallowed, lifting his head to the wide mountain sky, and she patted his hand.
“I’ll leave you alone. No matter what your daddy said about boys and tears, I reckon even he would be honored right now.”
She left him without looking back. It would be harder for Lance than for any of them. She had to be sure he had plenty of chances to grieve, get it out in the open where it wouldn’t fester and poison him. She’d seen that festering happen with Tyler, and she wouldn’t lose another son to it.
* * *
Tamara picked up her check and bought Cody his treat-night supper—a hamburger, shake and French fries from the local hamburger stand. Once he’d eaten, they stopped at the grocery store, where he picked out the words he’d learned to read. “Mommy, is that ‘sale’?” “Mommy, is that ‘fish’?” “Mommy, is th
at ‘diet’?”
She nodded distractedly most of the time. Although he was only four, he’d been able to pick out most of the letters in the alphabet when he was two, and had been counting to a hundred for more than a year. It didn’t surprise her anymore that he was teaching himself to read. Her mother had once told her that Valerie’s father was the smartest man in Choctaw, Arkansas. Cody had evidently inherited his brains.
In the spice aisle, she bent over, looking for lemon pepper. Behind her, Cody chanted in his usual way, making comments on whatever he saw. And in her usual way, she said, “Mmm-hmm,” every so often without really hearing.
But suddenly, his words penetrated, and she looked up, stunned. He was chanting the names of spices. “Nutmeg, nutmeg, nutmeg. Salt, salt, salt.” He paused and frowned. “Carmamom.” The sound pleased him. “Carmamom, carmamom, carmamom.”
When he noticed Tamara looking at him, his impish little face wreathed itself in a smile. “Carmamom!”
“Cody,” she said, standing, “are you reading the labels on the bottles?”
“Yep.” He swung his feet and cocked his head. “Some are hard.”
“Which one is hard?” She pulled the basket close to the shelves.
“That one.” He pointed to a bottle of Italian seasoning.
Feeling a queer sense of excitement, Tamara forced herself to be calm as she pointed to another bottle. “How about this one?”
He leaned forward against the silver handle of the shopping basket and made little gestures with his mouth, murmuring under his breath. “Pop-py!” he cried. “Pop-py, pop-py, pop-py. Hey!” he cried. “That’s almost pepper!” He pointed to the can nearby. “Black pepper.” With a serious expression he added, “I already know the color words.”
With a happy little giggle, Tamara took his face in her palms and kissed his nose. “You are so smart,” she said. “I didn’t know you could read so well!”
He leaned on the bar. “I can’t read books so good. There’s too many words.”
“Oh, there are many books with only a few words in them. I’ll find you some, okay?”
“Okay.” With a coy little expression, he said, “Can we get some dinosaurs now?”
“Sorry, kid. Still can’t afford one today. Maybe next week. How about some cookies instead?”
He sighed. “Okay.”
On the way home, she stopped at a discount store and got several beginning readers for Cody. At the checkout was a display of inexpensive classical CDs. Impulsively she plucked out one of Vienna waltzes, as a treat for herself. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad day after all.
She had no real stereo system, but couldn’t stand to have no way to play music, and two years ago had splurged on small remote speaker. Happily, once they got home, she put the CD on her computer, linked to the Bluetooth, and started putting away her groceries.
“Turn it up, Mommy!” Cody cried, running into the kitchen. “This is happy music!”
With a chuckle, she did just that. Cody spun and whirled all over the living room, and she watched him with a deep sense of satisfaction as she stowed the perishables. Then, leaving the rest for later, she rushed into the living room and scooped him up. “We can dance together!”
