Free A Notion of Love by Abbie Williams Page A

“Aubrey just called from the hospital,” and the blood seemed to freeze in my veins. “Justin’s there, in Rose Lake. Something happened at the station.”
    â€œBut what? What could happen there?” I turned in a panicky circle, reminding myself that it wasn’t my place to race there at once and see what was wrong; undoubtedly Justin’s wife would dislike that. But I felt tense and twitchy, my limbs ready to dash outside and follow Dodge as fast as I could.
    One of the customers from my six-top poked his head inside and inquired, “Is everything all right?”
    Mom cupped my arm firmly, her touch conveying the need to calm down, and said in her authoritative tone, “Jilly, we’ll find out what’s going on soon enough. You head back out there and finish up, all right, honey?”
    I couldn’t concentrate, and it was two agonizing hours before Dodge finally called us; he got Ellen, and we all crowded around as she talked with him. I could tell nothing from her one-sided conversation and my thumbnails were just about non-existent by the time Ellen had replaced the receiver.
    Her face was still. She said, “He got burned with battery acid. He was never in danger of dying—”
    â€œWhich someone could have told us!” I couldn’t help but interject.
    â€œBut he’s hurt pretty bad,” Ellen continued, folding her hands together and pressing them against her belly. She added, “His face got the worst of it.”
    â€œWhen can we see him?” I demanded then, wanting to grip my aunt’s shoulders and shake answers free.
    Ellen’s eyes swam with tears and she said, “Honey, he doesn’t want to see anyone right now.”
    ***
    That night I curled in my bed, unable to get the image of Justin’s face from my mind. I pictured him as a ten-year-old, just younger than Clint was right now, his dark eyes always full of mischief, just like Dodge. As a wild teenager, his lips that always seemed to be smiling or about to laugh. In the summers I’d see him almost every morning when he and Dodge stopped out for coffee; it was convenient, just around Flickertail from the filling station and shore shop where both of them worked repairing things, mainly boat and car engines. I considered him a dear friend and if a hint of something more than that ever dared flicker into my mind, if I found myself enjoying his company perhaps a bit more than I should, I stomped it out with determination. He was a married man and I was so lonely, and those two things could be a potentially dangerous combination.
    I turned the other direction and pressed my cheek into the pillow, hot and restless, wondering now when I’d see him again.

    August, 2000
    â€œAubrey’s left him,” Dodge told Ellen around the bonfire that night.
    From across leaping flames I lowered my arm slowly; I had been about to take a sip from my beer bottle, but my stomach went cold in sympathy. Though the rumors were flying in Landon I had purposely blocked out what I’d heard, determined to find out the truth without asking, which meant: wait for Dodge to elaborate. For the past two years Justin had been infrequent at the café. He preferred to do his drinking after work and I knew Dodge was worried as hell about his son. I worried too, though quietly, knowing that Justin would despise any hint of concern or pity directed his way. He was a changed man since his accident, and it hurt all of us to see it; we were all equally helpless to do anything.
    â€œOh no,” Ellen said, her voice low with concern. “Damn.”
    Dodge drew in a deep breath and directed his gaze over to me, saying, “Jillian, don’t let on that you know, honey.”
    â€œI won’t,” I promised. “When…”
    â€œThis morning she was gone,” Dodge said. “I hated to leave the boy today, but he was…”
    My heart constricted further; Dodge was