• • •
The late-afternoon sun lingered as though it were enjoying, far too much, shining its golden light over rooftops and warming the country roads to give way to evening, and Charley wandered about the garden, gathering up Micah’s tools and empty seed packets, recoiling the hose, until she heard the screen door slam and walked to the corner of the house, thinking she’d meet Micah on the walkway. Only it was Ralph Angel and not Micah who’d stepped out onto the porch in his T-shirt and sweats, his hand raised against the afternoon sunlight, looking like he’d just woken up from a nap.
“Hello, Ralph Angel.” Charley spoke politely but cautiously. She hadn’t been in the mood for too much conversation since he teased Hollywood for asking her out.
“Hey.” Ralph Angel yawned and stretched. “Micah said you were out here. But it’s what — five thirty? You don’t normally roll in here till after six.”
“We finished early for once,” Charley said. Privately, she was glad when Alison said the preschool called, one of his grandsons was sick, he needed to leave by three, and Denton had suggested they call it a day. The fields were looking good. The cane had grown another notch, which meant that it was almost as high as it needed to be for this time of year, and they’d nearly finished making minor repairs to the equipment they bought at the auction. But since Ralph Angel seemed to be in a good mood, she let her guard down. “I would have been home sooner, but LeBlanc’s light was on, so I picked up a loaf,” Charley said. “I bought some ginger cakes, too, if you want one. I told Micah to put them on the counter.”
“Good to know,” Ralph Angel said. He leaned against the porch rail and surveyed the garden. “’Da had a garden when I was coming up, but I always hated yard work. Too hard.”
“Hard work builds character,” Charley said, picking up a shovel Micah had left facedown in the grass.
“Maybe, but this here is plain old manual labor, which doesn’t build anything but an aching back. Thanks, but no thanks. That’s why I was an engineering major.”
“What kind of work do you do, exactly?”
Ralph Angel seemed to hesitate. “Actually, I’m out of work at the moment, but my last gig was for the Department of Water and Power.”
“Like designing power grids and reclamation facilities?” Charley asked, thinking maybe she’d underestimated him.
“Reading meters,” Ralph Angel said. “But it’s more technical than you think. Have to be extremely precise or customers complain.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Sort of hoping you’d made a decision about me working on the farm.”
But for the cereal bowls he often left in the sink or his sweat jacket she noticed slung across the back of a kitchen chair, Charley had almost forgotten Ralph Angel was around.
“Here’s the thing—” Charley began, but then, thankfully, the screen door slammed again and Micah, and then Blue, holding a small action figure, stood on the top step. Micah took the camera from around her neck and slipped it over Blue’s, helped him point it at the sky. He pressed the button and smiled as the camera churned a dark square into his hand.
“Now blow on it,” Micah said.
“Micah, we need to go,” Charley said.
“Those aren’t the gates of heaven,” Blue said, disappointment leaking into his tone. “That’s a tiger’s eye.” And just like that, he and Micah were bickering like they’d known each other all their lives.
“Hey, now. Cool it, you two.” Ralph Angel’s voice was like a firm hand on the napes of their necks. “Here, let me see that thing.” He studied the photo, asked Blue what he saw, and when Blue said he saw the tiger’s whole body now, Ralph Angel laughed, and Charley laughed too, because wasn’t it just like a kid to let his imagination run wild? “Now, show me those gates of heaven.” He held the picture while Micah explained.
Charley tucked her keys back in her pocket as she watched Ralph Angel with the children. She thought he looked like a regular father playing with his kids on a Saturday afternoon, was impressed when he managed, somehow, to convince them the Polaroid could be both things, and no one cried or pouted or ran into the house.
“Uncle Ralph Angel has memorized the whole Bible,” Micah said. She yanked his arm. “Say that thing about clean hands.”
“What’s this?” Charley said.
“Your daughter’s overstating things,” Ralph Angel said, looking sheepish. “The other day I told her I used to memorize Bible verses for Sunday school.”
“Whatever,” Micah said. “Just say it again, so Mom can hear.”
“Okay. But one time and that’s it.” Ralph Angel took a breath, closed his eyes. “‘Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord or who shall stand in his holy place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.’ Psalm twenty-four, verses three through five.”
Micah and Blue clapped, and Charley clapped too. “Impressive,” she said. “I didn’t make you out for the religious type.”
“Yeah, well. The Lord and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, but some things are just hardwired, you know? ‘For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.’ Ephesians, chapter two, verse eight.”
“Nice,” Charley said, and meant it.
“Say another one,” Blue demanded.
“That’s enough.” Ralph Angel handed Micah the stack of Polaroids. “Your mother’s ready to go.”
Micah turned to Charley. “Can Blue come with us?”
Charley hesitated. She had talked to Ralph Angel more in the last ten minutes than she had in the last three weeks. She looked at him. “It’s fine with me.”
Ralph Angel reached for his wallet. “Uh — well, buddy, let’s see.”
Charley didn’t want Blue to see his father fumble with his flimsy billfold. She didn’t want Blue to see his father finger the two measly singles and grab for the smeared scraps of paper that fell into the grass, not that there was anything wrong with being broke, but she didn’t want Blue to understand that Ralph Angel was broke in a particular and humiliating kind of way.
“That’s all right,” she said. “It’s my treat.”
• • •
The John Deere 3510 sugarcane harvester was designed for comfort and convenience with its forward-tilting cab and pressurized ClimaTrak temperature control that provided a dust-free environment, its air suspension driver’s seat and optional DVD player with surround sound speakers. Lying on her bed that evening, Charley stared at the machine’s picture featured in a two-page catalog spread with the same rush of desire as a high school boy staring at his first Playboy centerfold. All those hoses, gears, and bright green paint, Charley thought. Who knew a piece of farm equipment could be that sexy? She was reviewing the safety features for the second time when Ralph Angel knocked on her open door.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said when she startled. “You busy?” He stood awkwardly, just over the threshold.
“Just reading.” Charley invited him in, aware that she was sitting on the bed that should have been his.