Pepperell Academy was only a few miles from downtown, surrounded by undeveloped woodland and farms. It was the perfect place for Jake and Andy’s retreat. When “The Day” arrived, and the world collapsed as Jake so believed, Winston’s town center would draw people seeking resources and shelter, leaving Pepperell Academy and the land around it mostly deserted.
Jake never envisioned that he’d be raising his son in a town like Winston. He thought he’d be living in the Back Bay, or maybe a sweet condominium in Cambridge during baseball season and somewhere warm in the off months. But life, like the sport Jake loved, could throw curveballs. Which was how he’d ended up in the western part of the state. It wasn’t so bad. The community was supportive, the air clean, and the restaurants were more than halfway decent.
Jake and Andy liked to go out to eat at least once a week. Tonight they had settled on Lotus, the only Asian cuisine in town. Andy was busy checking over the menu and didn’t notice his dad looking at him across the table.
“You know what you’re getting?” Jake asked.
Andy studied the menu some more. “I might have the pad Thai and dumplings,” Andy said with his face buried in the menu.
Jake appraised his menu anew. “That’s what Uncle Lance usually gets.”
Andy glanced up and looked around the restaurant. “Speaking of Uncle Lance, where is he?”
“You know if it’s not school-related, your uncle is always fifteen minutes late. By my watch, we’ve got another minute or two to go.”
Andy went back to studying his culinary choices, but with an odd look on his face. Jake had been noticing his dark mood, which was short-tempered and sullen, and wondered whether Andy was properly managing his blood glucose.
Andy noticed his dad’s attention. “I’m at one hundred ten,” Andy said with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve got to stop worrying.”
Busted. “I’m your dad,” he said. “It’s burned into my DNA. Besides, I wasn’t worried when I saw you in The Quad today.”
Andy perked up. “You were there? Watching?” A spark of pride flared in his brown eyes.
“I felt bad for that Ryan boy from the get-go,” Jake said, “but I wanted to see you in action.”
“Yeah, well? How’d I look?”
Jake made a face. “The move was great,” he said. “I saw it coming from a mile away, but he sure didn’t. The yell when you made your strike, though-now, that needs some work.”
“I thought I was loud.”
“It sounded more like you got something caught in your throat.”
“I could yell now.”
“You’ll have plenty of chances to practice your yell, where you won’t scare the waitstaff. I thought maybe we’d toss some muay Thai training into the mix, or even krav maga. I think there are instructional DVDs in the library.”
“Krav maga’s pretty badass,” Andy said.
“When The Day comes, you might have to pull some of those moves on tougher opponents than Ryan Coventry.”
Andy looked seriously annoyed, and then he just looked away. “I’m glad you’re teaching me self-defense because I think it’s cool,” Andy said in a soft voice, as if anything louder might trigger an avalanche of emotion. He locked eyes with his father once more. “But enough talk about The Day, Dad. Serious. I want to enjoy my meal.”
Jake respected Andy’s wishes. He only wanted what was best for his son, but the parent and the child didn’t always agree on what that entailed. He felt the years were slipping by too quickly, and he worried about the time remaining to prepare his son properly for the bleak future they most likely faced. At first, Jake thought Andy’s constant complaining about the drills was due to pressures at school, or maybe a temporary dip in enthusiasm, but lately he’d begun to see that it was something much more serious and involved.
Nevertheless, the drills weren’t stopping anytime soon. Drilling meant survival. He could still vividly recall the first time Andy wasn’t prepared for catastrophe. Jake hadn’t been, either.
Andy had just turned five when he strolled into the kitchen, pulling Draggy by its purple tail. Jake had won the stuffed dragon at the Deerfield Fair; it had been Andy’s inseparable buddy ever since.
“Where’s Mama?” Andy asked.
Jake slid Laura’s note into the kitchen drawer so Andy wouldn’t see what had made his father cry.
Jake wiped his eyes. “She’s not here, little buddy.”
Andy made a face. His dad’s voice sounded funny. He looked around. “Where is she?” he asked.
Andy’s doleful eyes put a hole in Jake’s chest, and he had a hell of a time getting air past the lump in his throat.
“She’s not here, champ,” Jake said, sweeping his son into his arms. Laura had bought Andy’s fleece dinosaur footy pajamas last Christmas, but already they were a little snug.
“Why you crying, Daddy?” Andy asked.
His genuine concern cleaved Jake’s heart. The boy kicked to get down, and then he trotted off to explore every room in the house, with Draggy in tow.
A few minutes later, Andy reappeared in the kitchen. He was holding something other than Draggy in his hand. Jake could see it was a photograph of Laura.
“Mama left a picture of her on my bed,” Andy said. “Why’d she do that?”
Again, Jake took his son into his arms. He clutched Andy tight to his chest and stroked the silky hair on the back of his son’s head. He wanted his voice to be strong, but it had come out trembling then.
“Because she loves you so very much,” Jake said.
Andy didn’t appear to understand.
“I want my mommy,” he said, sniffling, his eyes going moist. “I want my mommy,” he repeated.
“Me too,” Jake said as he rocked Andy in his arms. “Me too.”
The bells above the front door chimed a sweet set of notes and pulled Jake out of that painful memory. Lance Dent entered. Jake and Andy stood to greet Lance and the three exchanged quick hugs.
Lance had a thick head of raven hair, while Jake’s was ash blond and close cropped, but it was obvious to any stranger that these two were brothers. Lance was Jake’s fraternal twin, eight minutes the elder, but the rigors of his job-the alumni dinners, social functions, committee meetings, parent conferences, fund-raising events, and school-sponsored activities-meant he didn’t have time to take a fifteen-minute jog, let alone practice krav maga. Over the years, Lance, once married but now a committed bachelor, had packed on twenty or so extra pounds compared to Jake, who maintained his pro athlete physique. Even today, Jake could still fire off a ninety-mile-an-hour fastball, but only because he’d spent years rehabilitating his pitching arm.
Lance took a seat next to his nephew.
“Thinking about trying something new this time,” Lance said as he perused the menu. “What else is good here?”
Andy looked incredulous. “Good at Lotus?” he said. “Heck, Uncle Lance, just close your eyes and point. You can’t miss here.”
Jake gave Lance a cautious shake of the head. “You’re a creature of habit, bro,” he said. “Just get the pad Thai and dumplings and be happy about it.”
Lance put the menu away and smiled at his brother. In all the years Lance had been coming here, he’d never ordered anything other than the pad Thai. Jake knew he’d be disappointed with any other choice.
Jake and his brother were close growing up, but their bond had strengthened since Jake joined the staff at Pepperell Academy. For a time, the brothers’ paths had diverged widely. While Jake battled to make it out of the minor leagues and into The Show, Lance Dent got a B.A. in education from Tufts and took a job as a math teacher at Pepperell Academy.