Scandal by Patsy Brookshire

myself, to be The Mom. For Roger to be The Dad.
    I let myself swim in self-pity for a few steps, and then shook it off, pulled off the pack and
rummaged for the binoculars. I lifted the glasses to my eyes and searched for Tillamook Rock
Lighthouse--Aunt Sophie knew it as Terrible Tillie--just about two miles out. The rock is still there,
with the building, but the light that Aunt Sophie took comfort from, no longer shines.
    Thinking of Aunt Sophie and her lesson to me to enjoy life as it is and not waste time
agonizing over unfilled desire, calmed me.
    With the back of my sandy hand I wiped my tears, wishing I'd not used the hankie on the
shell, and did the old trick of listing ten benefits in my life, The Gratitude List. My health, my
eyesight, my fingers & toes--was I going to count them as ten, or one? That I can feel the water
on my toes. That I'm at the beach. That I have Sam and Dave and Teri, and that they love me. And
that I can love them. That's eight. That I have a house and that I have a place I can go take a nap,
now, and be with family.
    Enough. I turned around, taking into myself the roll of sea onto the sand, gulls hopping and
squalling. Haystack Rock. A glorious place and a glorious day. The walk back was over too quick. A
light fog was moving in, bringing that feeling of enclosure, with it the small damp. I found the log
and shoes and socks where I'd expected them to be. I brushed my sandy feet, cleaned the grit from
between my toes. The pleasure of the warm, dry socks comforted my cold feet.
    Grateful for more than ten. I laughed to myself. More than eleven!
    My nap that afternoon righted me, as did the evening meal of spaghetti and meatballs with
salad and garlic bread. When we were all satisfyingly well fed, Teri stood and said, "Connor, help me
with this. Hand me the dishes, I'll load the dishwasher and you can set out the cobbler."
    Pleased to see how quick he was to help his mom, as if the promise of cobbler inspired him,
I asked Connor how his bugs were doing. He was good at talking while moving, a family trait.
"Everybody liked 'em. That picture you took with the cages shut tight, it was in our paper. It helped.
They put my blue ribbon in the case at school, where the trophies are for the football guys."
    Sam broke into a 1930's song. "We're in the money..."
    Connor looked annoyed but laughed. "My little hisser guys are small but just as mighty as
line backers when it comes to moving people. Wow, that was a tromp, wasn't it!?" When he had the
table cleared, Teri handed him a casserole dish of blackberry cobbler, still warm, and me a spatula
and a pile of bowls. Dave got a container of vanilla ice cream and a scooper. Connor handed spoons
and forks around.
    Sam sat waiting, spoon in one hand, fork in the other, anticipation deepening the wrinkles
in his face. I ladled the cobbler into the bowls and Dave piled on the ice cream.
    I said, "Sammy, you don't have to do anything but eat, huh?"
    "Just who do you think picked these berries while you were messing around on the
beach?"
    "The family that works together stays together." Dave scooped ice cream on cobbler for
Teri. Nobody commented on me calling him "Sammy". Maybe that was common here.
    "Gramps, you did a good job. Man, oh man, this is good! Mom, you make the best
cobbler."
    Sam sang out, "We're in the money..." drawing out the final word, "nowwwww," to which
Conner nodded in agreement.
    "Tell her about the aftermath of the bug stomp," said Teri.
    "Oh, yeah! A couple days later that guy from the Salem paper came over, you know, the guy
who took that photo. Said he knew you, that you guys are old friends. Fishing for info about you.
Dad didn't tell him much."
    Dave was nearing the end of his cobbler. "He talked about Grandma Sophie like you all was
good friends. Said he was going to meet up with you. Has he done that yet?" His left eyebrow lifted
in a question.
    "Oh, yeah. He's sniffing around," Sam said. "She went to his house to meet up with