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Marcia O’Doole was sitting in her grandmother’s rocking chair on the decking at the back of the lodge and watching the darkening blood-orange sky being reflected in the Flathead River. She’d rescued the piece of furniture from the attic and brought it to West Glacier the summer before last. One of the runners was split – courtesy of Tyler – so you couldn’t actually rock, but she was glad to be using it. She didn’t often get the chance to sit still without immediately falling asleep. Like her mother, she dropped when she stopped.
It was an unusually warm night for March, and Tyler and Kevin were stripped to their boxers and wrestling each other on the edge of the jetty. The water was freezing and whoever was pushed in – usually Kevin – semi-feigned hyperventilation when they broke the surface. Their commotion echoed off the other bank.
She watched Tyler as he tussled with his brother. He had Ted’s muscle tone and skin colouring. Marcia never tanned and, despite nagging everyone to smear on sunblock, was usually the one who ended up getting burnt.
Tyler’s condition had made him lose a little weight, but he looked like any kid his age. The doctors had said the cancer cells in his cartilage didn’t respond well to radio or chemotherapy, but they’d put him through it anyway. Surgery on his pelvis was the next step, and he was booked in for June. Tyler had had a few months to regain his strength and, bar some dizzy spells and bladder complaints, was miraculously back to his old self. She knew appearances were deceptive, though. They had to make the most of his break from treatment, and it was good to be away from the usual distractions – no Internet or landline connection, and she’d confiscated the boys’ iPhones for the whole fortnight. Marcia only kept her cell switched on in case her sister needed to contact her. Kevin was finding it hard. He’d sneaked off and spent an hour in an Internet café updating his Facebook page when they’d gone into Martin City for extra provisions that morning.
Some harlequin ducks barked eerily. They were early this year. She breathed the earthy air in and took a swig of her third Blue Moon beer. She couldn’t relax, didn’t like to take Kevin out of school, but they had to work around the time she could get off. Tyler wasn’t trying with college, and there was only so far she wanted to push him. He’d figured he might not need an education. It was a regular argument, and Marcia didn’t know if she yelled at him because he was so dismissive of his future, or because she wondered if he was right.
She still hadn’t made her mind up if every day should be more precious, or if they should carry on as any normal one-parent family would, despite the prospect of what could be waiting for them at the next doctor’s appointment. Marcia had opted for the latter, but that didn’t mean she didn’t question the decision every time she had a screaming match with him.
Both the boys missed Ted, and she knew they were suspicious she’d been responsible for his absence from their lives. Fact was, their father was a coward, and how could she tell them that?
Kevin lost his balance again and fell in. As he clambered out it sounded as if he was exhausted.
“Tyler, let your brother catch his breath!”
Tyler ignored her and pushed down on Kevin’s head. Kevin was halfway out and resisted, his shoulders trembling with the exertion.
“You’re going down, cockwad.” Tyler wouldn’t let him up.
Kevin slipped back underneath the water.
“Tyler!”
He didn’t turn but helped his brother out this time.
She knew that, even though he tormented him, Tyler looked out for Kevin. During one of their scraps, she’d overheard him tell his little brother he had to toughen up because he might not always be around to protect his ass.
Marcia finished her beer and put the bottle between her feet on the deck. Maybe a glass of merlot would relax her a little more. Why couldn’t she enjoy these moments? Was it being back in this place without Ted? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance of him turning up. But something else was disquieting her, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.
She could see a couple of brown bats circling on the far bank, hear their squeaks piercing her eardrums when they swooped close. She always got itchy before a storm. But as Marcia surveyed the vista before her, there were only a few flattened wisps of cloud in the orange sky.
