“Aw, Jesus. You’re already involved. Physically, huh?” Rick didn’t answer and Jack thought, who knew what they were up to. Jack remembered only too well the things experimental kids could do to get a little satisfaction without going all the way. It was a frickin’ art form. Problem was, it just didn’t last, and the closer you got, the greater potential for slip-ups. Sometimes it made more sense to decide you were going all the way with good birth control in place, rather than risk an accident. But man, you should be older. Older. “Aw, Jesus.” Jack took a breath. He dug down into his waders, down into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a fist full of condoms. “This is tough, Rick, because I don’t want you to use these on her, and I don’t want you not to. I’m stuck here. Help me out, will you?”
“It’s okay, Jack. I’m not going to do her. She’s fourteen.”
Jack reached out and tousled his hair. Those freckles had given way to the stubble of a young beard; he wasn’t skinny anymore. The work he did at the bar plus the pastimes of hunting and fishing, not to mention chores for his grandma had bulked the kid up and his shoulders and arms were muscled. Handsome kid, he thought. Real grown-up. He had a lot of responsibility—he worked hard, maintained his grades, did every physical thing around his grandma’s house that needed doing. With Jack’s supervision, Rick had painted her house. All that built toward creating a solid, reliable man—one who shouldn’t get shot in the foot by a teenage pregnancy.
“So, how old were you?” Ricky asked him.
“’Bout your age. But the girl was much older.”
“Much?”
“Way older than Lizzie. Older than me. Smarter than me.” He handed Rick the condoms and although Rick’s cheeks took on a dark stain, he accepted them. “I know you’re at that age—I was that age once. You know what the problem is. She might not look so young, but she’s got a long way to go yet. Huh?”
A shiver went through Ricky and Jack caught it. Well, it’s not as though he had been oblivious to Lizzie’s rather over-matured charms. Thus the talk. “Yeah,” Ricky said, a little breathless.
“Let’s be sure you know some things,” Jack said. “You know that old business about pulling out in time—you know that doesn’t work. Right? And trying to not put it all the way in? Useless. First of all, if you can do that, you’re a stronger man than I am, and even if you can, it’s not good enough—you can still get her pregnant. You know these things, right?”
“Of course I know that.”
“Rick, you understand, if there’s no backing out of this relationship with her and if there’s a strong potential for it to get more serious rather than less, you might have to be the one to take charge. Draw a line in the sand—insist on birth control at least. You got a midwife in town—there’s help available. For Liz. I think she’s too young to be having sex, personally. But I know she’s too young to be pregnant. You with me here, buddy?”
“I told you, I have it under control. But thanks, Jack. I know you just want me to do the right thing.”
“Which includes not getting caught off guard. If it’s getting close, you get her fixed up. Double protection—hers and yours. You have to use the head with the brain in it. Believe me, I’ve seen more than one good man go down because he was thinking with his dick.” He watched Ricky’s chin lower as he looked down and he knew. Liz was irresistible to him. He was fighting for his life. His pants were on fire.
“Yeah,” Ricky said. “I hear ya.”
“You make sure you always have a condom, okay? It’s your responsibility to keep her safe, son. If you use even one condom, Rick, you get her to Mel. Right away.”
“Do we have to talk about this anymore?”
Jack grabbed the boy’s arm and felt solid biceps in his grasp. Damn, Ricky was nearly six feet and still growing. “You wanna be a man, son? You have to think like one. It’s not enough to just feel like one.”
“Yeah,” he said. Then, “By the way, it’s not statutory unless I’m over eighteen.”
Jack laughed in spite of himself. “Too smart for your own goddamn good, aren’t you?”
“I hope so, Jack. Holy God, I hope so.”
Seven
Mel talked to Joey at least every other day, sometimes everyday. She would place the call from Doc’s when she had a free minute and Joey would call her back so it wasn’t on his nickel. She sent her digital pictures of the renovation of the cabin from Doc’s computer and Joey, being an interior decorator, was fascinated by all the building and refinishing Jack had done. Then Mel told Joey that she was going to stay a little longer. A few weeks. At least long enough to be sure Chloe was doing well with Lilly. She loved the little cabin and wanted to see Polly through her delivery.
She didn’t tell Jack. But by her daily presence at the grill, he came to realize that she was giving it a chance, and he couldn’t hide the fact that it pleased him.
She and Doc played gin, Mel walked down to the store in time to watch the soap with Connie and Joy, and spent a large amount of time at the bar. Joy, who was not a librarian, was the person who opened up the little library on Tuesdays—and Mel was always there. It was about ten by twelve feet, crammed with books, mostly paperbacks with the stamps from secondhand stores inside the covers. It was the only entertainment Mel had when she went home at night.
Mel learned that Lydie Sudder had poor general health when Doc sent her down to the Sudder house to deliver diabetic testing supplies, insulin and syringes. Lydie, beside being diabetic and arthritic, had a weak heart, but Mel was surprised to find that the little house she shared with Ricky was very well kept and nicely furnished; Lydie somehow managed to keep up with things. She got around slowly, but her smile was kind and her manners delightful. Of course, she wouldn’t let Mel out of the house without tea and cookies. She was still there, visiting with Lydie on the front porch, when Ricky came home from school, driving up in his little white truck.
“Hey, Mel,” he said. He leaned down and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “Hi, Gram. I’m going to work if you don’t need anything.”
“I’m just fine, Ricky,” she said, patting his hand.
“Call me if you need me,” he said. “I’ll bring you something of Preacher’s later.”
“That would be nice, honey.”
The boy went inside to drop off his books, then out again, jumping off the porch steps and back into his truck to drive the whole block to the bar. “I guess a man can’t be separated from his wheels,” Mel observed.
“That appears to be the case.” Lydie laughed.
The next day she sat at the grill at lunchtime with Connie. “I haven’t heard you say you’re leaving for days now,” Connie said. “Something change on that score?”
“Not a great deal,” Mel said. “But since Jack went to such a lot of trouble to work on that cabin, I thought I owed it to him to give it a few weeks. I can deliver Polly’s baby.”
Connie glanced at the bar where Jack was setting up lunch in front of a couple of fishermen. She gave a nod in his direction. “Bet that makes Jack real happy.”