Chapter 2

Rita took the easy way out with that evening's dinner. Remembering Randall's legendary appetite, she set out a large platter of spaghetti and meatballs with a tossed salad to add a little fiber. She could hardly believe how much food the kid could put away. Together, they cleaned up the kitchen after dinner then went downstairs to the rec room to select a movie on Netflix.

Randall preferred movies with a lot of murder and mayhem while Rita leaned toward something more cerebral so they compromised and watched the black comedy 'Bernie'. They both loved it. Rita kicked his butt in a game of scrabble after the movie but it was hardly fair because she had a master's degree in English Lit and Randall couldn't remember the last time he'd looked up the meaning of a word.

He'd worn Sparks and himself out with an afternoon of riding followed by giving the horse a good rubdown and brushing so he was ready for bed by nine. "I think I'll take a shower and crash early if you don't mind, Aunt Rita."

"Actually, I was thinking of doing the same thing. See you in the morning, sweetie."

The objection he voiced to his mom about staying with Jack and Rita had nothing to do with his opinion of them; they were just about his favorite people in the world. The issue was his independence. Truth be told, he would have been perfectly happy living on the little farm. Riding and taking care of Sparks, helping out with the garden, working with Jack on day-to-day chores, all of it suited his temperament and, like Jack, he was a very hands-on person.

He thought about those things as he lay in bed listening to the near perfect silence that simply didn't exist in the city. He was just drifting off to sleep when he heard the door creak open. He guessed it was Aunt Rita checking on him before she went to bed. Cracking open his eyelids a tiny bit and peering from under the blankets, he could make out she was just standing there in the doorway watching him. A couple of times, it looked like she took a step toward him and then stopped. Finally, she sighed, shook her head and left, closing the door softly behind her.

What was that about, he wondered as sleep overtook him.

Jack had a three-acre peach orchard on his land that he harvested to sell to local grocery stores although baskets of the fruit were also sold from a little roadside stand he set up at the end of the driveway. Aside from that, Rita had a garden of her own that provided them with nearly all the veggies they could use through the summer. Much of the harvest was canned and lasted them through the winter as well. There were fourteen yearling steers grazing the rest of the land.

After breakfast, Rita and Randall spent a couple of hours in her garden hoeing weeds and propping up tomato plants. His Aunt was a woman with a rapier wit and he totally enjoyed spending time with her. Their conversations would sometimes drift into a steady stream of japes, jokes and pokes and they'd get to laughing so hard they'd have to stop what they were doing to recover.

Rita was still a very pretty woman at age forty-two and there was no way Randall couldn't take notice, especially when she was dressed in rather short shorts and a halter-top. She was tall at five-eleven and one of those women who refused to ever let herself go. She still had a flat belly, an awesome derriere and 'decent jugs', as Randall liked to think of them but he wasn't obsessed and he didn't spend an inordinate amount of time fantasizing about her, mostly because he liked and respected her and Jack so much. He just couldn't think of her as a sex object. Well, not often, anyhow.

Over lunch, she asked him what he wanted to do for the rest of the day. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe give Sparks another workout if it's OK with you."

"I don't mind if he doesn't. You know what? I think I'll run a few errands in town while you two are playing. Is there anything I can pick up for you?"

"Umm, no, I can't think of anything. How long will you to be gone?"

Rita glanced at the clock on the wall. "I should be back by four or five. Jack might make it home before me so tell him I'm bringing pizza back for dinner."

"Great! Would you get Gino's? They make the best pizza."

"Gino's it is! With everything but pineapple or anchovies, right?"

"Tell 'em to throw on some extra sausage."

She made a quick phone call before taking a shower. She dressed in tan shorts and a sleeveless top and drove off in the beige Tacoma Jack bought her to replace the clunker that had brought them together.

Jack did indeed make it home that afternoon. He drove his Peterbilt tractor around the barn and parked it beside the house. Randall had just put Sparks away and jogged across the yard to meet him as he climbed down from the cab.

"Hey, Uncle Jack! How's it goin'?"

"Randall! Good to see ya, buddy! How's your mom doin'?"

"She's good, strict as ever, of course."

Jack chuckled and said, "You'll thank her for that some day. I don't see the pickup. Is Rita over at the neighbors?"

"Nah, she said she had some errands to run in town. She's supposed to bring back pizza for dinner."

The smile faded from Jack's face and he looked at his boots. "I see. Uh, how long has she been gone?"

"Well, she left right after lunch." Randall wondered about his uncle's sudden change in mood. "Is there something wrong, Uncle Jack?"

Jack shook off the sense of trepidation over his wife's absence. "Wrong? Oh, no, no, nothin' wrong. So what've you been up to today? Ridin' Sparks, I'll bet."

"Yeah, I just finished brushing him down and gave him some oats. He sure is a great horse."