The Family Gathering. Robyn Carr

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      “That brings something to mind. Does everyone around here know how we grew up?”

      “Everyone? I doubt everyone knows the details. The people we’re close to know. I took Maggie to the farm to meet the folks before we got married, giving her one last chance to run for her life.”

      “And she didn’t run?”

      “Nah,” he said. “Maggie’s tolerance and compassion far outpaces anything I’ve encountered. That’s one of the things I love about her.”

      Dakota didn’t look at his brother but he could feel Cal’s eyes on him.

      “You’re wasting a lot of energy still being mad at them,” Cal said.

      “They weren’t exactly sterling parents,” Dakota said. “And it’s not because they were poor—there’s something honorable about being poor and holding it together. They were negligent. Jed should’ve been on medication! Marissa should have insisted.”

      “Know what Maggie said about that? She said she’s had a lot of people refuse medical treatment for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they find the treatment worse than the disease, sometimes they’re afraid, sometimes they’ve made peace with their dysfunction and know how to live with it. He might not have been the best father but Jed is still a gentle soul. Crazy, but sweet. Scared of his own shadow but kind. He was always so good in his heart.”

      “As he talked about his design of Apollo 13, or his Nobel nomination or some other delusion.”

      “My favorite was when he was getting ready for a security briefing,” Cal said with a chuckle.

      “I don’t want to laugh about it yet,” Dakota said.

      “Let’s check out your new porch chairs and see if we can talk about things you find more agreeable.”

      They sat and talked for a while about general things, the town, Sully’s place. Cal explained that Sully had had a heart attack a couple of years ago and ever since then those people attached to him—Maggie, Sierra, Cal, Connie—had all been checking on him regularly and pitching in with the chores around the Crossing. Dakota had fallen right into step, often showing up at the Crossing to help out.

      In the late afternoon Dakota took Cal home and then headed for town. He parked way down the street and walked to the bar. He sat up at the bar and was promptly waited on by Rob. They chatted briefly while Rob served him a beer but there was no sign of Sid. Dakota nursed his beer slowly and eventually heard another customer talking to Rob. “Sid’s day off?”

      “Not usually,” Rob said. “The boys had baseball tryouts and one of us had to take them so Aunt Sid offered. I told her to take the day off. She was just going to leave early, anyway.”

      Then Dakota remembered: she left the weekends to the other bartender and waitresses because it got busy. That was good to know because Dakota wasn’t into crowded, noisy bars. But he would have to wait until the following Monday to see her again. He could take a chance on Sunday but he was pretty sure she had said Monday through Thursday was her usual schedule.

      Through the weekend he enjoyed himself with his family and their families. Cal and Maggie hosted a big Saturday night dinner at their house because Connie wasn’t working and everyone was available. It was the end of March; the campground general store was still closing early and there were only a couple of intrepid campers. Sully liked to be in bed before nine so he left early, but the rest of them played poker until midnight.

      At last it was Monday. Dakota was very calculating. He showed up at the bar between lunch and happy hour. He sat in his usual spot. The place was deserted. He waited for Sid to come through the swinging door from the kitchen. He grinned at her. And it was unmistakable...she smiled back. She slapped down a napkin in front of him. “And how can I help you today?”

      “I’ll have a beer,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

      “Me? Fine.” She craned her neck to look out the windows. “Are we expecting company today?”

      “We are not. I parked behind the diner and walked down. I’m undercover.”

      That brought a laugh out of her and she filled a glass with beer for him. “I don’t know why you’re fighting it. Alyssa is perfectly nice. And that other one is certainly beautiful and willing to buy you dinner. And, I suppose, other things...”

      “I explained that,” he said. “Trouble. And Alyssa seems awfully young.”

      “She’s not that young,” Sid said. “Just something to think about. How about you? How have you been?”

      “Good. I thought we’d celebrate my new job.”

      Her face lit up. “Congratulations! And what will you be doing?”

      He lifted his beer and took a sip. “Picking up trash.”

      She laughed and it was a wonderful sound. “Just as you planned.”

      “It’s good money. I have to go to a training program first. Apparently there are things to learn about garbage. I hope they let me drive that big truck.”

      She leaned on the bar. “That’s probably a senior position.”

      “I’m experienced. I’ve driven great big MRAPs. You know—those enormous military vehicles that are resistant to mines and bullets and carry troops around the desert. I could probably parallel park a garbage truck.”

      She laughed again. He could make her laugh. That was a start. “I might end up their star trash hauler.”

      “After your training,” she reminded him.

      “I bet I’m at the head of the class,” he said, grinning. “I doubt you have to be a Rhodes scholar to get through it.”

      She seemed to snap to attention. “Why would you say that?”

      “Just a joke. That was a strange reaction.”

      “What exactly is a Rhodes scholar?” she asked.

      “A recipient of the Rhodes Scholarship that includes a couple of years at Oxford,” he said. He judged her expression and it was his turn to laugh. “Hey, just because I’m hauling trash...”

      “Huh,” she said. Then she wiped the bar. “The Army must have educated you very well.”

      “In a manner of speaking. They have this nifty little thing called the GI Bill. When I was in the States, I took advantage.”

      She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I guess you’re a little overqualified for the county refuse pickup.”

      He raised one brow. “How about you? College?”

      She grinned. “What for? I love this job,” she said. “Seriously, it might be the best job I’ve ever had. Except once when I was a babysitter for this rich couple who took the family to France and brought me along to watch the kids. That was pretty sweet.”

      “When do you get off work?” he asked.

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