Somewhere Over the Freaking Rainbow - By L.L. Muir Page 0,16
and his mother jumped out. She hurried toward the tree and frowned as she watched the three men carefully make their way down the widespread rungs.
“What's going on?” She turned to Jamison and raised the famous eyebrow.
***
Skye didn’t know what she’d expected, but when she’d told Lucas of the connection between herself and their mortal neighbor, he’d said, “Interesting,” and walked away. As he’d passed Jonathan, however, the two had exchanged a look that led Skye to believe the pair weren’t telling her something.
It wouldn’t be appropriate to demand to know their secrets—but she was determined to work it out of Jonathan later.
Skye stood at her bedroom window looking out on the cornfield. She stayed out of sight, as Jonathan had suggested; if someone looked her way, they’d only see curtains.
Sheriff Cooke, a pleasant and patient man for the most part, was proving even more patient than usual, going back over rows that had already been examined and listening to Jamison’s story over and over. Every once in a while, he’d take off his cowboy hat, rub the back of his neck, then pull the hat down tight and start looking again.
Lori Shaw, Jamison’s mother, searched the field too, showing complete trust in her son. When sunlight could no longer illuminate anything more than the tassels, it was Jamison who finally gave up. He must have realized they were all waiting for him to cry uncle.
As his mother followed him inside the house and Lucas walked the sheriff and his deputy back to their vehicles, Skye again wished she could have wept. Jamison had done an incredibly brave thing.
And no one would be allowed to remember any of it in the morning.
She prayed he would at least be able to remember her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jamison woke up the next morning in a fine mood. Today was the day. The moving company had left a message on the machine; his car and the rest of their belongings would be there by five pm.
As he headed down the stairs he paused and looked down. Pants on. Zipper up. What was he forgetting?
Mom was humming. She hadn't done that for a while. Maybe she was going to get over herself and go visit Granddad. He wouldn't bring it up, though. He wanted that humming to last for as long as possible.
Just as he suspected, a cooked breakfast was waiting for him—not something bacon-smelling and micro-waved, but actual bacon. She'd made a greasy mess of the kitchen, and she didn't seem to mind.
“Surprise!” She lifted a pan lid from a plate on the table. Bacon, eggs, and silver-dollar pancakes, like Grandma used to make. “Don't even say how long it's been.”
“I won't look a gift breakfast in the mouth.”
“Good boy.” Mom looked around the table. “What did I forget, butter?”
“Right here.” Jamison pointed to the butter next to his glass.
“Orange juice?”
“Mom! It's in the glass, next to the butter.”
“Sorry, I just feel like I'm forgetting something.”
“Are you wearing pants?”
She looked down. “Yep. Oh well. I guess I'll figure it out the hard way.”
“I'm having that feeling too, like I've forgotten something.”
“Homework?”
“Nothing but a test on Lost Horizon.”
“Lost Horizon! Oh, I haven't read that forever. I wonder how long it will take to dig out that box of books?”
“First thing out is my car.”
“Yep. Last in, first out.”
They had a great morning, smiling and talking about where things would need to go. It was rare; usually they were screaming 'I love you' or 'have a good day' as they ran around the kitchen once and headed for the door. Waking up early was something he'd have to try more often.
They didn't even have to run for the car.
As Jamison pulled up on the door handle, he glanced at the tree house and something nudged his brain.
“How much time have we got?” he asked.
“We're about ten minutes early. Why?”
“I was thinking maybe the thing I forgot is up in the tree house.”
“Well, hurry if you're going. And be careful.” She climbed in the car, then climbed out again. “You know, we might want to think about tearing that thing down.”
“No!” It was his tree house. “Let God blow it over, if he can.”
Half-way up the trunk he had a strong sense of deja vu, like he'd had that thought before, but he was remembering all kinds of things since coming back to Colorado. He’d probably talked it over with Granddad while his mom was packing their things, to leave her home and her father behind.