Back Creek by Leslie Goetsch

Author:Leslie Goetsch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bancroft Press

Chapter Fifteen

That summer’s current moved us through June, bringing us to one of the worst heat waves ever. I never minded the heat and humidity, though my hair became my nemesis and I had to invent elaborate knots to keep it off my neck and face just to survive. Lillian suffered more—in New York, she’d gotten used to the indoor life of air-conditioning, and Daddy had never entertained adding such a modern luxury to our house. She spent much of the hot part of the days setting up a dark room in the shed under the pines, the one where Mother used to work. The day after our boat trip to the little island, I’d helped her clean it up.

She bounced into my room that morning, yanking open the door and seating herself beside my head, tickling my nose with an antique feather duster that had always amused Mother. The Barnett women had probably never dusted a thing in their lives, but anything old—anything connected to family—held a sacred quality, including this ancient, molting duster.

Still deeply engaged in a dream, a confusing scene of Bay and sandy island where I’d been stranded with only an oar, I awoke sneezing. I heard her laughing and snapped my eyes open to see a zoom lens peering down at me. Before I could get my hands in front of my face, there was a click, and I was temporarily blinded by a flash that appeared out of nowhere.

“There, the first in my new series—I’ll call it ‘Grace in the Morning’—maybe I’ll make it religious.” Lillian cocked her elbows and rested her camera. Then, suddenly, she dropped the camera on the bed and grabbed her slightly bulging stomach. I pushed back the sheets and sat up in a hurry, watching her face take on a strange look. I prepared to leap out of bed, find my keys, and deliver her to the hospital again.

“Grace,” Lillian said, grabbing my arm. “Grace, it moved—the baby—I could feel it. I swear!” She lifted the t-shirt she had draped over herself and pressed my hand against my stomach. “Feel!” she commanded. I waited, holding my breath. I could feel only the smoothness, the already straining flesh. Nothing moved.

Lillian exhaled. “I guess it stopped. Wow! I tell you what—there really is a baby in there. And I guess it likes taking pictures—or maybe it just likes being near you.” She let go of my hand and laughed.

“Okay, come on. Let’s get down to business. I need you to help me clean out that shed. I like your idea. I should do some work around here. I’ve brought out my bags and my cameras, and I’m ready to go.” She bent her head and looped the neck strap of the old Pentax around her neck. The camera rested on her stomach.

“Hey, look, I’ve got a little shelf! Grace, get up now. Don’t bother taking a shower. You’re just going to get dirty. Come on.”

Lillian was never so commanding as when

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