And she wasn’t hard to look at, either. She had good teeth, he thought, then laughed at himself. Like he was judging a horse? He was just one of those people who noticed eyes and mouths first. It was somehow natural to him and also something he consciously thought about—you can tell a lot about a person from their mouth and eyes.
Maggie’s eyes were brown like his but darker. Chocolate. She had thick lashes, fine, thin, arching brows and a sparkle in her eyes. They reflected humor, anger, curiosity and embarrassment. He’d caught her; it was written all over her face—she’d been trying to research him. Probably because he was hanging around the campground so long, even during inclement weather. And not just hanging around the grounds but also the store—she was naturally protective of her father and his property.
He said good-morning to Frank, who sat by Sully near the stove. Sully had another cup of coffee and Cal guessed he must have gotten rid of Maggie somehow to score another cup. Who knew how many he’d had before walking with his steaming mug over to Cal’s campsite. Cal wasn’t sure whether Sully was hard to manage or he just enjoyed watching Maggie’s attempts. He was extremely curious about their family history. Where was Maggie’s mother?
“What would you like me to get out of that storeroom for you, Sully?”
“Aw, I don’t want to work you, Cal...”
“I don’t feel put upon at all. I don’t have anything on the calendar. Another week and your campground will get busy, the weather will get warmer and I’m going to take you up on your offer to park and see what these trails have to offer. So—want to tell me?”
“I’ll go with you and show you,” Sully said.
“As long as you don’t get in trouble with the warden.”
Cal went about the business of bringing out boxes of supplies and restocking the shelves. He rotated the goods so the newest went in the back and the oldest would sell first. He checked the dates on the food products if necessary and he used a dampened rag to wipe the shelving clean.
It brought back memories of his student days. Stocking supermarket shelves didn’t pay particularly well but it was something he could do at night. He went to classes and study groups during the day and early evening, worked at night. And sleep? When he could. He learned to work quickly, study every second he could spare, power nap, eat on the run. He recorded facts, stats, case studies and lectures into his pocket recorder, listened and repeated as he showered, drove, shelved. The days were long, the nights short, the labor intense.
Yet it was a happy time. He was achieving all his goals, was deeply bonded with his friends and fellow students, his life felt challenging but very stable. And he met Lynne.
Lynne Aimee Baxter was the smartest, kindest, strongest, funniest person he’d ever known. They weren’t headed in the same direction, not really. They both wanted to work in the legal system. He wanted to make a good living, put down roots, build a house that could hold him till he died and with space to accommodate a growing family. Lynne wanted to help people. He might end up in criminal law...maybe tax law...same thing, they would joke. She might end up a public defender or, better still, a storefront operation for the underprivileged in need of legal counsel. What was so comical—he came from nothing while she was a trust-fund baby.
Maybe that explained it. He longed for security; she wanted to shed the excesses of her life.
“You’re better at this than I am,” Sully said behind him.
He turned around with a grin. “I’ve done this before.”
“I’ll say it again—I just don’t pay you enough. Listen, Maggie’s gone over to town to pick up my seeds and starters and maybe to get away from me. Want to join me for a hot dog?”
Cal smiled. “You eat a hot dog, you’re going to pay. That’s for sure.”
“You thinking I’ll get caught?” Sully asked.
“Someone is bound to talk,” Cal said. “But I was thinking more along the lines of indigestion. You’ve been on a pretty bland diet, haven’t you? I’d work up to a hot dog if I were you. And then there’s the high sodium, fat, et cetera.”
“That mean you don’t want one?”
“Oh, I want one,” Cal said. “You should have something a little more easy on the stomach. If you ever want to have sex again in your life.”
“Hell, I gave up on that a long time ago. Don’t tell Maggie. I’d like to think of her having nightmares about it.”
When he was done with the shelf stocking and his hot dog, Cal went to the area Sully had mentioned was his garden. It was easily identifiable. It was behind the house, kind of hidden from the campgrounds. Cal wondered if that was sometimes an issue—a thriving garden being tempting to campers. Did they occasionally help themselves to the tomatoes?
It wasn’t too big, maybe sixteen by sixteen feet. He could see the rows from last year. He went to the shed that stood back from the property, tucked in the trees. There was a lot of equipment, from snowblower to plow attachment, lawn-grooming equipment, riding mower, wheelbarrow and gardening supplies.