Free Shining Sea by Anne Korkeakivi

the hammock draped with Luke’s lanky seventeen-year-old body, seemingly asleep despite all the cap rockets going off and the loud music from the neighbors. “Why’d Ronnie put that up in our backyard if he’s just planning to make you sell the house?”
    Patty Ann has been out of the house for three years, but it’s still “our” backyard. It’s enough to break her heart. With the house sold, does Patty Ann feel as though her childhood will be once and for all out of reach? There were days after Michael’s death when her hands shook so much with rage—this perfect life dropped in her lap only to be snatched up again—that it was hard to zip the younger boys’ Windbreakers or attach a barrette in baby Sissy’s fine red hair. Maybe the real reason Patty Ann ran off with that good-for-nothing Lee was out of a similar anger, snubbing her nose at fate for what it had done to them.
    Where is Lee today? It seems like just Patty Ann and the babies these days.
    “You and the boys can always come visit. It’s not that far.”
    “For Luke? He put the hammock up for Luke?”
    “I told Luke last week if he’s going to just loaf around, I wish at least he would loaf around at home, where I could keep an eye on him. Luke laughed. But Ronnie came home with the hammock.”
    “And Luke has barely left it since.”
    “I don’t think Luke likes his friends much more than I do.”
    “Superman Ronnie.”
    “He has a way.”
    “Like I said. Superman.”
    “I don’t know what you have against your stepfather, Patty Ann. Ronnie’s been nothing but nice to you. He even tried to help Lee land a job—not that Lee followed him up on it.”
    “It wasn’t the right fit,” Patty Ann says, looking down at her beer.
    “Right. Well. Ronnie tried.”
    “He always tries. That’s just it. Like he’s too nice. Like he’s hiding something. You never really know who he is.”
    If he’s such a nice guy and loves kids so much, why hasn’t he had any of his own? Why hasn’t he ever even married? Patty Ann said after the first time Ronnie joined them for Sunday dinner. He’s a good-looking guy. I mean, for a middle-aged square.
    It’s a question, like a song she can’t shake, that she hears again each night when Ronnie kisses her on her forehead, puts out the light, and turns over onto his side, facing away from her. She’s sure he loves her. It was his idea they marry, not hers. It’s not like he had anything to gain from it—she’d hardly an extra penny in the bank. And he’s an honorable man. He served in World War II, just like Michael did. And yet she could count on two hands the number of times he has turned to her in the dark. Being married to Ronnie is great, but it’s not exactly how she imagined it.
    But maybe that’s how it is with most men. Just because their private life isn’t like the one she had with Michael doesn’t mean it’s not normal. They’re neither of them kids anymore, after all. She’s no longer a kid.
    She wouldn’t mind if he were to turn to her sometimes, though.
    “That’s what he is, Patty Ann— nice. Some people are.” She picks up the plate of raw steak and heads for the door. “I think the baby has woken up.”
    The late afternoon air smells of eucalyptus and car exhaust and barbecue. She sets the plate down by the grill. “Another ten minutes?”
    “Fifteen,” Ronnie says. He’s wearing the new madras shirt she picked out for him; it makes his hair seem even darker and thicker. He really is a nice-looking man.
    “Well, the salads are ready. And the corn on the cob is done.”
    “I’m starved,” Eugene says, looking up from a pile of firecrackers. A body would think she didn’t have enough children already without Eugene making himself at home here. Then again, Eugene’s been an honorary member of the family longer than Ronnie has—it’ll be strange leaving him behind if they move to Phoenix. In some ways, she understands him better than she understands Francis, her