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Page 8 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

When they arrived at the orange-roofed diner, the server showed them to a booth complete with paper placemats, a napkin dispenser, and salt-and-pepper shakers.

Jackson thought he was special. They had never eaten inside before.

The only time they had been there was to get ice cream, and Jackson always waited in the car.

“What’ll you have?” George asked.

Jackson made a face and shrugged.

“How about a hot dog?” Rita suggested.

“Yeah!” Jackson was finally acting like a little boy again.

* * *

Later that afternoon, George drove them to the hospital, where Rita was directed to a ward.

He and Jackson waited in a gray and green room, with an ugly linoleum floor and a few chairs that looked like they, too, had been through a war.

Jackson whispered in his uncle’s ear, “This place isn’t as nice as the other one.

” Jackson scrunched up his nose. “It smells funny.”

George nodded. After World War II, there were fifteen million vets returning to the country, with a quarter million of them requiring hospitalization. VA hospitals were packed to the brim, filled beyond their capacity. George knew this was not going to be a pleasant situation.

About a half hour later, Rita returned, looking as if she had seen a ghost. George stood right away. “How is he?”

She couldn’t speak; otherwise, she might scream. George ushered her out the door, with Jackson clinging to his mother’s hand. He was happy to be out of that creepy place.

When they got back to the car, she explained the situation.

She wasn’t going to mince words in front of Jackson.

“J.T. is going to be in this hospital for an exceedingly long time. We don’t know how long, either.

Jackson, honey, this is not a nice place to visit your father, so until he gets better, we’ll just have to pray for him. Can you do that for me?”

Jackson nodded, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be praying for.

“According to the administrator, the VA will pay for J.T.’s medical expenses, but I must cover the rest.” She thought for a moment.

“When Jackson starts school in the fall, maybe I can get a job at the factory where I worked before I got married.” She let out a huge sigh.

“There doesn’t seem to be any reason for me to visit every day.

” She continued to think out loud. “I’ll have to find someone to care for Kirby while I’m at work. ”

“He can stay with us,” George offered. “At least until you find your sea legs.” George served in the Navy and often used nautical expressions.

“What about the captain?” Rita was referring to Betty.

“She’d be thrilled.” He knew Betty would be happy to help.

* * *

The following day, the repair shop phoned to let them know the car was ready.

Then Rita phoned her old boss, who was delighted to have her back.

She was a hard worker, and they were always in need of conscientious employees.

He was happy to take any hours Rita could put in.

That was one thing she could check off her list. Next was to see if there was someone who could babysit until school started.

She didn’t want to wait two months before she began to earn money.

There was a phone number on the card the administrator gave her.

It was for family assistance. She hoped they could help.

George drove her to the repair shop where her car was waiting. The mechanic did as much as he could to fix the mangled mess. There were still lots of scratches and dents, but it was drivable.

Now that Rita had transportation and had secured a job, she insisted that George return home.

He was reluctant to go and suggested he stay one more night, just in case.

Just in case of what, he didn’t know, but he felt uneasy leaving Rita alone.

However, Rita knew she was on her own, and she needed to start taking care of herself and her children, so she sent George on his way.

The next morning, a neighbor knocked on Rita’s door. The news of J.T.’s accident had spread up and down the street. “Hi, Rita. I just wanted to see how your husband is and if there is anything you need.” It was Lydia Foster, the woman who lived next door.

Rita’s first impulse was to say, “No, but thank you.” Instead, she asked, “Can you recommend a babysitter to look after my son while I go to work?”

“For both boys?”

“Just Jackson for now. Kirby will be staying with my sister and her husband for the rest of the summer.”

“How many hours a day?” Lydia asked.

“As many as I can get. I’m going back to my old job, and they’ll let me work whenever I can.” Then Rita realized she hadn’t answered Lydia’s question about her husband. “Unfortunately, J.T. will probably be in the hospital for a long time.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lydia said with a grain of sympathy. She wasn’t a major fan of J.T. He could go from charming to nasty in the blink of an eye.

“We’re going to have to manage, which is why I need to go back to work.”

“I babysit for my grandson Monday through Friday. My daughter is studying to be a nurse, so I look after him. Once school starts, I watch him from two to five every day during the week. The school bus drops him off right in front. The boys may be in the same class, and they can play in the yard together after school. I can watch your younger boy, too, when he gets back.”

Rita thought about it for a moment. She didn’t know how to ask about money, but Lydia chimed in, “And don’t worry about paying me. I have to mind Rickie anyway, and Jackson will be a good distraction for him.”

“That is very generous of you, Lydia.”

“Us gals have to help each other out.”

Rita realized Lydia made a good point. Women had to look after each other, regardless of any difference in their age or marital status.

“I promise I will make it up to you somehow.”

“I am sure you will, dear. When do you want to start?”

“I’ll call my boss and see when he wants me back.”

“Okay. Just give me a holler when you know.” Lydia turned to walk away, then stopped.

“You’re gonna be alright, Rita. There are a lot of people on this block who think very highly of you.

You are always there with a pound cake, or an apple pie whenever someone has a birthday, or isn’t well. You’re a good neighbor, dear.”

Rita watched as the woman walked to the end of the sidewalk. She didn’t remember anyone ever saying she was a good neighbor. If they did, she didn’t believe it. She had to admit her self-esteem was nonexistent. But now? Now she had to pick up the pieces, and she found strength in the challenge.

* * *

Jackson had acclimated to the new circumstances rather quickly.

He was excited to have a friend, and Mrs. Foster made the best chocolate-chip cookies.

His mother would bring him to the Fosters’ house in the morning, then she’d go to work.

He stayed with Mrs. Foster until his mother got home in time to make dinner.

Aunt Betty and Uncle George brought Kirby home every weekend to keep the family unit as close as possible.

Betty and Rita slept in Rita’s room, and Uncle George slept on the sofa.

Kirby and Jackson were in their usual twin beds, playing like brothers should.

Rita loved seeing her sons together, and she missed Kirby so much, but Betty and George convinced her that it would be no trouble for them to keep the boy with them during the week—at least until he was old enough to go to school.

Rita visited J.T. at the hospital at least once a week. And once a week, she was reminded that this was the way life was going to be for a while. Maybe forever.

This arrangement went on for the next two years.

During the summers, both boys stayed with Betty and George.

It gave Rita an opportunity to put more hours in and make more money.

It was throughout that time when Jackson began to understand the importance of money.

Rita made sure he did. Everything she did was for the sake of money.

Money for food. Money for house payments.

Money for electricity. Money for gas for the car.

And with careful planning, money for schooling when the boys got older.

* * *

By the time Jackson was in high school, he learned the art of finesse.

If you said pleasant things to people, you could get them to do things for you, even if you didn’t mean it.

He was fascinated by the Eddie Haskell character on Leave It to Beaver .

Eddie always complimented Beaver’s mother, June Cleaver.

He would have a line that would be akin to “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing, Mrs. Cleaver.

” She would respond with a “Thank you, Eddie,” and give Mr. Cleaver an eye roll.

Everyone knew Eddie was disingenuous. He just didn’t know that everyone else knew.

So Jackson decided he would have to be better; he honed his skill at compliments and made them sound more sincere than they were.

He got particularly good at it and charmed his teachers.

If he didn’t do well on a test, he’d pluck at their heartstrings explaining how his father, “a war hero,” was in the hospital, and his mother didn’t have time to help him with homework.

That excuse worked for a while. His father never regained consciousness and passed away from kidney failure, and he milked that excuse until he graduated.

* * *

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