The first few months in Tamarind Valley went smoothly, like they always did just after a move.
The new job went like jobs went. Jack was good at what he did and no one ever complained about the results. Which was good, since it made work easy to find wherever they moved.
He took the money they had put away when they got rid of the place in Oregon and bought pretty much the same things he had sold up there. First a camper. Southern California summers were everything the travel brochures promised, and almost from the first the Merricks spent every weekend on the road, traveling to the ocean or the desert or the mountains. It was always good to get away from things, and anyway, the great outdoors was healthy for the kids, wasn’t it? They certainly enjoyed the freedom to wander around from dawn to dusk without having to be shepherded every moment.
They enjoyed the trips even more after Jack bought three off-road motor bikes, one full-sized for him, two used, cut-down models for the boys. Ariel didn’t like bikes, which was just as well. She preferred to spend the time in the camper, reading or napping. Just as well. Saved some money there.
Once Jack found out about Lake Cachuma, a couple of hours to the north, he decided that the family had to have a boat. Something small enough to haul behind the camper but big enough for fishing and water skiing. A week later a trim little craft was parked in half the driveway, safely sheltered by an electric blue tarp.
Yeah, the Merricks were a with-it, mobile family, all right. Jack liked it that way.
The boys settled into their school routines easily when fall came. Slick had pointed out the advantages of having schools near enough that the kids could walk there and back. Be good for them. Build them up. Build character.
There were the occasional rough spots, of course, but Ariel knew well enough how to handle them.
No one questioned Mark’s injured knee. Ariel write a bullshit note about him tumbling down some stairs and bruising it. It got him out of running in P.E., which was all the kid cared about. Ariel only had to drive him and pick him up a couple of days before he could limp his way to school.
Clark stayed home every now and then, but the school seemed to understand that kids that age sometimes just wore themselves out playing and needed an occasional day to recuperate.
And, on the whole, they performed well. Mark’s grades were just above average in most subjects. Clarks dipped below now and again but he always managed to pull them up. Both boys came home with report cards bearing teachers’ notes that indicated the boys were shy and perhaps a bit socially backward-but that came with moving so often, didn’t it? They both excelled in P. E, though, and that counted for something.
After the blazing heat of summer passed, Ariel was more comfortable, too. She had rarely left the house, not even to work in the yard, which was Jack’s self-proclaimed bailiwick. When she did, it was to drive the second-hand Kia Jack bought for her to go to the store and back. Stores were air-conditioned, so no one ever said anything about her long-sleeved shirts or full-length pants.
And everyone in Southern California wore shades in the summer.
On the whole, Jack was satisfied with life on Oleander Place. Since they were on the end of the street and, in spite of what he might tell Ariel, he only infrequently actually worked in the front yard-mowing and a bit of weeding now and then-they made few close friends among the neighbors.
That was all right. Jack liked his family to be self-sufficient.