An Unlikely Match

the town, and the quiet. It was the polar opposite of everything in Los Angeles. No sirens, honking horns, schedules, or traffic. He wished he could have spent more time with his grandparents when they were alive.
He followed Veronica, who was wearing a wetsuit. Cameramen were already loading equipment into one of the boats and insistedthey would carry the more expensive gear themselves. There was a flurry of activity as several other actors and crew membershustled to board the boats.
How far into the cave would they be going? His stomach began to twist and churn.
“Jayce, hold up.”
He slowed at his father’s voice coming from behind him. He turned and waited as the others kept going.
“Listen . . .” His father took a moment to catch his breath. Jayce had seen the man go up and down the long ramp to the riverlevel twice.
“What?” Jayce asked, frowning.
His father put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “I know how you feel about places without an easy exit, so after everything isloaded, you can hang back. We’re only filming one scene, and the setup will probably take longer than the actual filming.”
Wow. He’d dodged a bullet. Jayce was about to take him up on the offer when the corner of his father’s mouth went up on one side, mockingly. His silent expression spoke volumes to Jayce as he remembered the time the man had forced him into an elevator that took them to the top of a forty-six-floor building. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, but he could recall the event like it happened yesterday. By the time they reached the forty-sixth floor the first time, Jayce was crying and could barely breathe. His dad pushed the Down button, and they made the trip three more times while he screamed at Jayce to suck it up. The dissatisfaction in Brandon Clarkson’s eyes, telling him to toughen up and be a man, had never left his memory.
“No, I’ll go,” Jayce said as he stared him down, wishing immediately that he’d accepted the get-out-of-jail-free card. Justonce he’d like to prove the man wrong. Maybe he would treat Jayce with a little more respect if he saw this through.
His father’s smirk expanded as he eased his arm to his side. “Well, okay then.”
Jayce tightened his grip on the wagon and forced himself to meet up with the others at the water’s edge. After two more tripsfor the rest of the gear, it took another thirty minutes or so to get people and equipment stowed in a way that was acceptableto the guides who would be driving the boats. Despite the cool temperature in the cave entrance, sweat gathered on Jayce’sforehead and trailed down both sides of his face.
The boats wobbled as everyone balanced themselves and the equipment in the middle. The cameramen clung to their minicams and other paraphernalia as if they were children who might fall overboard. Jayce wondered how deep the water was farther into the cave. Standing on solid ground and handing the last of the snorkels and masks and another air tank to Hal, he worried he might toss his breakfast. When he felt eyes on him, he looked to his left. Veronica’s expression was filled with sympathy, unlike his father’s. Her eyes said, You don’t have to do this.
Over the years Brandon Clarkson had made his feelings known, often calling Jayce a coward—or something far worse—in frontof people. He longed to shut the old man up and show him that he had conquered his fear, but when he stepped one foot intothe boat, his head started to spin.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Dad, to stay behind.” He hoisted himself back to the dock. He could feel his faceturning red and wished that just this once his father wouldn’t make him look like a fool.
Dear old Dad’s eyes shone with satisfaction. “Yeah, I didn’t figure you’d actually get in the boat and go.”
Jayce trembled, wanting more than anything to get in that boat. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. As the cavern employees firedup the trolling motors, the boats eased away.
The last thing Jayce saw was his father’s smirk.
*  *  *
Esther stared at the pile of breakfast dishes in the sink, then thought about all the laundry that was building up. Aftertheir guests left this morning, she’d gone upstairs to tidy the rooms. She’d never seen so many towels used in such a shorttime. It looked like each person had used two or three. Of course, there wasn’t a towel limit per guest, but they were allon the floor—some in the bathrooms, others in the bedrooms—meaning she would need to replace them with fresh towels.
As the kitchen sink filled with warm water, she added soap, then heard Lizzie clomping down the stairs. When she turned around, she saw that Lizzie had beat her to the task. She was carrying an armful of towels.
“These city people are slobs,” Lizzie said as she dropped the towels near the basement entrance. She dramatically placed ahand on her forehead. “Don’t even go up there, Esther. It’s a mess. There are clothes all over the floor. And one of themeats a lot of chocolate bars. The wrappers are just thrown on the floor.” She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.
“Ya, I know. I was up there earlier.” She turned off the water and faced her sister. “But we’ve had guests before who weren’tvery tidy.”
“Ya, true. But all of these guests are messy. Didn’t their mudders teach them the basics? Hang your towel on the rack. Don’t throw trash on the floor of your bedroom. And someone must havegotten up in the middle of the night because they left a half-eaten piece of apple pie on a plate on the bed.” Lizzie wrinkledher nose and shook her head again.
“We’re too old to do all of this ourselves.” Esther turned back to the sink and started scrubbing the dishes.
“I’ve been asking around trying to find someone.” Lizzie sat at the kitchen table. “But no takers.”
“We’ll find