“Sometimes things happen that we have no control over.” Control was always the issue, Tory thought, fighting her own sudden tightness about her chest. She struggled for a breath of air. Up until lately she had done so well keeping her own demons at bay. Why now, when she had a new life, must she be reminded of her own past pain?
“I know life can throw us a curve at any moment.”
Tory swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, “How will you blaming yourself help Mindy?”
He stabbed her with narrowed eyes. “Don’t talk to me about blame until you’ve walked in my shoes.”
Tory dropped her gaze from his unrelenting one, looking beyond his shoulder toward the pond. She took a moment to gather her frayed composure before saying, “True, I haven’t walked in your shoes, but I’ve done my share of blaming myself when I really had no control over the situation. I’ve discovered it does no good and doesn’t change a thing for the better.”
“I need to check on Mindy. I don’t want those geese to attack her.”
“I think we would have heard—” Tory didn’t finish her statement because Slade had left, striding toward his daughter, his arms stiff at his sides, his hands opening and closing.
Tory’s muscles released the tension gripping them, and she sank down onto the blanket. Shivering, she drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest while she watched Slade place his hand on Mindy’s shoulder and listen to his daughter and Laurie talk about the geese, their voices drifting to Tory. Mindy pointed to one of the adult geese herding the rest of them toward the pond. A baby, trying to scurry to catch up with the group heading back to the water, brought a huge grin to the little girl’s face, emphasizing the power animals had over people.
“Hey, is anyone hungry?” Tory called out to the trio by the water.
“Yes,” both girls answered.
Slade took Mindy’s hand and led the group to the blanket under the tree. “Are you kidding? We’ve worked up quite an appetite watching those geese gobble up all that bread.”
“Oh, Dad-dy—you’re—al-ways—hun-gry.”
“And I know what a good cook Tory is. I’ve been saving room for this picnic lunch since she asked us. I could eat a bear.”
Mindy put her hand over her mouth and giggled.
“Well, I’m fresh out of bears today, but I have fried chicken. Will that be all right?” Tory asked the group.
The girls nodded while Slade licked his lips, his eyes dancing with merriment.
“Bring it on,” he said while settling on the blanket across from Tory.
Mindy sat next to Tory with Laurie on her other side. The picnic basket was in the middle of the circle, every eye on it as Tory slowly opened the lid, releasing tantalizing aromas. She made a production out of delving into the basket and slowly bringing the contents out for everyone’s view. Next to the chicken she placed a plate of chocolate-chip cookies, Slade’s contribution to the lunch, a bowl of coleslaw and a container of sliced strawberries, pineapple and bananas.
After saying a brief prayer to bless the food, Tory said, “I prefer not to have to take any of this back with us so dig in.”
“If we can’t finish this off, I volunteer to take the leftovers home with Mindy and me.” Slade raised his hand as though he were in school and he was waiting for the teacher to pick him.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Tory said, laughing. “But of course, if Mindy and Laurie keep piling it on, there won’t be any left for either of us today, let alone any leftovers.”
Slade tried to sneak a chicken leg from Mindy’s plate. She captured his hand and pried it out of his grasp. Then he turned to Laurie who hid her goodies behind her back.
“I think you’re gonna have to fend for yourself. It really isn’t very hard to fill your plate with food. Here, let me show you.” Tory demonstrated how, by putting a piece of chicken on her paper plate, followed by a scoop of coleslaw then fruit salad.
“How about a cookie? Dessert is the most important food here, in my opinion. That’s why I volunteered to bring it. I know a bakery that makes the best cookies I’ve ever eaten.” Slade inched his hand toward the plate.
Tory gently tapped him on the knuckles with a plastic spoon. “You’re supposed to be setting an example.”
Slade grinned. “I thought I was supposed to be eating lunch.”
“Is your dad always this ornery?” Tory exaggerated a stern look.
Mindy bent over in laughter.
He quirked a brow. “I don’t believe that’s a compliment.”
“Well, at least you’re astute.”
“Mindy, come to your dad’s defense,” Slade said while plucking up the last chicken leg and waving it like a sword.
Mindy and Laurie continued to giggle.
“No help there,” he muttered, and dumped the last of the coleslaw onto his plate. When he took a bite of the chicken, he smacked his lips and said, “Mmm. This is better than my mother can fix.”
Tory nodded, saying, “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Of course,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “my mother has never fried a chicken in her whole life.” He looked innocently at Tory while putting a spoonful of coleslaw into his mouth. “And this is as good as Aunt—”
Tory held up her hand to stop him. “I think I’ve had enough of your compliments for the day.”
For the next ten minutes everyone ate their lunch to the sounds of the geese honking across the pond. Mindy craned her neck to see what was going on while cramming a cookie into her mouth, then snatching up another one.
Laurie stood and moved toward the water. “They’re chasing away a beaver.”
Mindy struggled to her feet. “Bea-ver?”
“There’s a family on the other side. They dammed the stream that feeds
