Second Chance Christmas--A Clean Romance

by Rula Sinara

  “Maybe you’re overthinking it. Give him a chance to adjust. He just found out.” Damon scrubbed the stubble along his jaw. “Oh, man. My parents. My siblings. I don’t see them that much, but they have a right to know, too. Why do I feel like a can of worms has been opened?”

  “Who knows, maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe sharing a grandson will give our mothers a reason to get along in the same room. They’d finally have something in common.”

  “Or something concrete to fight over.”

  Zuri picked up a piece of sea glass and rubbed it between her fingers as she walked.

  “Or a mutual understanding of what it’s like to lose a child. Please, don’t tell them just yet. The last thing Caden needs is to get caught in the middle.”

  Damon looked over at her and gave a wry smile.

  “I think it’s too late for that, but yeah, I don’t even want to deal with telling them yet. Let’s get through the holidays. Or wait until Caden brings it up. I’m sure once the idea of having me in his life sinks in, he’ll realize through mere deduction that he has another set of grandparents.”

  He was implying that Caden was caught in the middle of the two of them, which meant he was still thinking about custody.

  “Damon, you want what’s best for him, don’t you? You wouldn’t cause problems just to satisfy your need to stake your claim at his expense, would you?”

  “Don’t try and make me sound like the villain here. Guilt-tripping isn’t going to work. What’s best for him is having a father around. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t agree on that.” He cut off the conversation as they neared the rescue station.

  “Duck. Come!”

  The dog ran toward them, causing Zuri to stop in her tracks, then back up a few steps.

  “She won’t bite you or jump up with me standing next to you. She just got a bit excited yesterday. I think she gets an adrenaline rush when she’s been in the water for a rescue, staged for training or not. Plus, she’s dry this time,” Damon said, giving Duck a good rub.

  “Her size is intimidating,” Zuri said.

  “Duck, sit.” The dog obeyed Damon, then he reached out and took Zuri’s hand. His touch felt more personal to her than it probably did to him. He didn’t seem fazed by it, but she couldn’t stop the rush of energy that zipped up her arm and through her chest. She dredged up how he’d made her feel years ago and the energy was abruptly extinguished. Damon placed her hand on Duck’s head and let go, keeping his dog in a seated position. “See. Just like last night. Harmless. She loves a good ear scratch.”

  Zuri scrunched her fingers through the dog’s thick, wavy hair. Duck looked up at her with soulful eyes and panted.

  “You’re right. I’ve got this. I’m really not quite as afraid of dogs as I used to be. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I’m just cautious. I believe I recently heard someone say something about how a bit of fear serves to protect us. Hmm? I don’t think I’ve ever been near any breed this size.”

  “I remember how you were about dogs. You used to cross the street to the opposite sidewalk whenever our German shepherd came out to greet me or my brothers on the walk home from school.”

  “Yeah, I did do that.”

  “I remember a lot of things. Don’t worry. I’ll stay near you when she’s around.”

  Zuri sucked at the corner of her lip for no reason other than she needed a reminder that she was the one who’d had a crush on him, not the other way around. All he was saying was that he was a responsible person now. That’s the message he had been trying to get across. He was a protector. He could be trusted with Caden and he was proving it by using her as an example.

  “Well, thanks, I guess. But see, I’m totally fine now.” No protecting needed. She faced Duck full on and started petting her with both hands, giving her that big old scratch behind the ears and on top of her head and—

  “I wouldn’t do tha—”

  Too late. Her hand was already under Duck’s chin. She thought dogs were supposed to like chin scratches. She’d seen her elderly neighbor doing so with her miniature poodle at the end of every walk and right before a treat. Apparently, it wasn’t the best place to touch a Newfoundland. She grimaced and looked at her hands. She’d been slimed.

  “Sorry,” Damon said. She knew by the way a cough escaped him and he cleared his throat that he was choking back laughter. “I tried to warn you. This breed drools quite a bit. Not all the time, but if they’re expecting food or treats or just excited, it happens.”

  “Great.” She splayed her hands. She was not about to wipe them on her jeans. Damon whipped a rag out from his pocket.

  “Here. This hasn’t been used yet. I keep a towel on hand—no pun intended—for when she drools. Some folks even use dog bibs. I don’t think that look suits a rescue heroine. There’s a bathroom at the station you can use to wash up if you want.”

  Zuri took the cloth and wiped her hands.

  “You won’t have to remind me.” A small laugh escaped her. “This isn’t funny. It’s gross.” Yet another chuckle blurted from her lips.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  She really didn’t think it was and didn’t mean to laugh. It had to be nerves or some sort of stress release.

  “Caden, you might want to avoid petting Duck under her mouth. Just saying,” Zuri said, as they approached the two kids.

  “Everyone knows that,” her nephew said. “Some dogs drool a lot.”

  Had he been researching dogs? He’d mentioned wanting one once, but with his mom sick and Zuri working and not being exactly a dog person, she’d always dismissed the notion. Man. This was looking better for Damon than it was for her.

  “Follow me.” Damon led the way up the steps and held the back door to the station open for them. The place was really just a converted beach house, much simpler than some of the quainter ones on the other end of town. This one had a deck overlooking the stretch of sand and gave the team a good vantage point of the ocean.

  “Yo, Damon. You bring friends.” A guy who was almost as tall as Damon’s six feet but had narrower shoulders and more of a lanky build greeted Duck and waved to Caden and Sara. “I’m Joe.” He held out a hand to shake Zuri’s but she held up her palms.

  “You probably don’t want to touch these. They were covered in drool.”

  “Nah, that doesn’t bother me,” Joe said, extending his offer and shaking her hand.

  “Zuri. And this is my nephew, Caden, and his friend Sara.”

  Caden was wide-eyed and taking in everything in the place from the radio setup to a radar station, to a wall where red rescue buoys, flags, air horns, megaphones, first aid kits and other equipment were either hung or were organized on shelves. A giant board with grids and schedules written in hung on the wall adjacent to the door. But what stood out to her the most was that, unlike Damon’s house, this place was decked out for the holidays. There were evergreen boughs framing each window, an artificial tree set up in the far corner and decorated with a surfing theme—so unlike anything she’d seen up North—and a giant cardboard box filled with wrapped and labeled gifts.

  “Nice to meet you, Caden. I know Sara from swim lessons last summer and the beach party her grandma hosts every year.”

  “Hi, Mr. Joe,” Sara said.

  Damon pointed around the room.

  “That there is Brad, Mark, Sanjay and Kiko. We have others, but the staff rotates and is bigger in the busier months. Some like Mark and Kiko also volunteer as EMTs, so they’re not always here.” Everyone gave a wave as their name was called and went back to what they were doing. Duck headed for an oversize dog pillow in the corner of the room and plopped down.

  “What do you do when no one is on the beach?” Caden asked.

  “We have to keep an eye on the weather and water conditions, help warn people if the currents and undertow or waves are t
oo rough. We have four-wheelers we use to comb the beach for litter, set up flags—red for ‘stay out of the water it’s too dangerous,’ orange for caution and green for calm—and if we see anyone disturbing the sea turtle nesting sites that you’ll see marked off by reed fences along the dunes, we’ll step in or report them to the sheriff’s department. And of course, we’re also notified if any suspicious boats or activity is spotted in the area.”

  “What’s with the box of toys?” Sara asked.

  “A toy drive for Christmas. We do it every year,” Brad said. “In fact—” Zuri caught Damon giving him a subtle headshake and Brad acknowledging the signal with nothing more than a twitch of his brow “—you two could donate something if you’d like. Books, toys, whatever. Even gently used items are fine. They get taken to women and children’s shelters along the Outer Banks right before Christmas and some are handed out during the Christmas Day Parade,” Brad said.

  “Sure. We could do that. Right, Caden?” Sara asked. He hunched his shoulders slightly.

  “Yeah. That would be cool. Except that I might be leaving, so I don’t know if I can,” Caden said. Sara’s enthusiasm dimmed.

  “Oh. Well, maybe we can find stuff today,” she suggested.

  Was Caden already regretting his earlier demand to leave town right away? Last night he wanted to leave immediately. But then he lasted through breakfast. Here they were, still in town at 9:30 a.m.

  “You know, Caden, I’m sure we can stay as planned, if you want. I haven’t changed anything at work yet, so it’s up to you. Why don’t we take it a day at a time? If you two don’t find something to donate today, you can always look tomorrow,” Zuri hedged.

  Duck sat up as if she understood what had just been said and Sara gave Caden an elbow nudge and whispered something in his ear. He stood a little straighter and scratched his cheek.

  “Sure. Why not. We can do that,” he said. “So, what’s the deal with helping you with your dog?”

  “Yes. I haven’t forgotten,” Damon said, holding up a finger. “It’s too cold this morning for any water training, but I need you two to serve as targets for Duck.”

  “What? Whoa. Targets?” Zuri asked. Damon kept his focus on the kids.

  “As you learned yesterday, Duck has a tendency to want to pull people out of the water—especially kids—even if they’re just swimming. This was a bit of a problem last summer, so we kept her on a leash, and we’ve been working with her on knowing when to rescue and when to ‘leave it.’ Yesterday, we did some water rescue drills, since it was relatively warm, and Mark here volunteered to be the victim. He hails from the Ice Age and has no sense of what’s cold to the rest of the world.” That earned a giggle from Sara and Caden and a few grins from the team. “But all I need you two to do is stand near the water...not too close...so that I can work with Duck to keep her with me. The goal is to only let her go round you up once I’ve given her the command. You up for it?”

  “Yes!” Both kids answered.

  “Okay, then. Put these on. Just a precaution,” he added for Zuri’s benefit, as he took two small life vests off a rack and tossed them to Sara and Caden. Sara had clearly put one on before. Caden fumbled with the strap, looking to see which direction it needed to go around his waist before buckling. Zuri started to step forward to help, but Damon put his hand on her arm to hold her back. Sure enough, Caden took one glance over at what Sara had done and strapped the vest on properly. Damon was right to stop Zuri. Had she stepped in, the boy would have been mortified and probably would have asked to drive out of town that minute, never to show his face again. Zuri linked her fingers behind her back and stood aside to make room for Damon and his dog to lead the way out.

  “Nice to meet you all,” she said to his team.

  “We’ll see you around. Enjoy Turtleback Beach,” Sanjay said, before turning back to what looked like a radio system. They were near a lighthouse. She wouldn’t be surprised if they listened for any boat distress calls offshore and worked with local law enforcement. What Damon did here wasn’t just the type of lifeguard job college kids got. Turtleback Beach’s ORBP was a full-fledged search and rescue operation and he was in charge of it. And his son had barely had enough swim lessons in a regular swimming pool.

  She hurried after Damon, but he was already jogging toward Duck and calling out to the kids, telling them where to stand. She waited until he blew his whistle, signaling for the dog to go get them.

  “Damon, you need to know something about Caden. He’s not some super athlete like you always were. He’s not a strong swimmer. He hasn’t had enough lessons and started late because he used to be afraid of the water when he was younger.” She braced her hands on her knees and stopped to catch her breath.

  Damon’s jaw hardened. He took off his sunglasses and, for a moment, didn’t look at her. And from the dark look in his eyes when he finally faced her, she kind of wished he had kept his gaze on his dog.

  “Not enough lessons? I don’t care if he was afraid. Do you not understand how important learning to swim is? Learning to survive in the water, at least? How could you not have made swim lessons a priority?”

  His tone was harsh and sliced right through her. She closed her eyes briefly. His brother Lucas. His brother drowned. You hit a nerve.

  “I wasn’t his mother. I helped out with him, but I didn’t set his schedule. It didn’t occur to me to press the issue with Vera.”

  “Didn’t occur to you? Do you have any idea how many times it doesn’t occur to people until it’s too late?”

  “Why do you think I just told you? So that you can be careful with all this,” she said, waving toward the dog as she tugged Caden toward them. The boy was laughing hysterically. Zuri gave him a fake smile. She didn’t want him hearing the argument or ruining the moment for him. He hadn’t laughed like that in months.

  “Good job,” Damon told Caden. “You can go rejoin Sara. Duck, sit. Stay.” He waited until Caden was far enough, made sure Duck stayed put, then blew his whistle and let her go. “It amazes me, you know?”

  “What?”

  “How all this time you and your sister kept him from me because you thought I wasn’t reliable or responsible enough.”

  With that, he left her standing there and went to join his son.

  * * *

  DAMON PRESSED HIS fingers to his eyes for a moment, as he walked toward the water’s edge. He tried to wash away the memory of Lucas’s grave. He tried holding on to the way his brother looked the last time he’d seen him alive. The sound of Caden’s voice brought him to the present. Caden—his son—held up his hand to try and get Duck to sit. She actually obeyed him, and the boy got a compliment from Sara.

  He’d snapped at Zuri, but it wasn’t just about the swimming, was it? Maybe it was. He wasn’t sure. Or perhaps he had just needed a reason to release some of the shock and anger he had been trying hard to push to the back of his mind since yesterday. He knew he couldn’t blame Zuri for everything. He’d heard her reasoning and, of all people, he understood how complicated life could be, but seeing Lucas in Caden pushed his self-doubt about being an instant father to the surface. Yes, he told Zuri he wasn’t going to walk away, and he wasn’t. But a part of him was scared. And something about learning that Caden couldn’t swim made that fear grip him by the throat.

  Fear is a protective mechanism. It warns you. You weren’t with Lucas. You’re here with Caden and you had him put on a life vest. He’s fine. You save people for a living. You’ll teach him to swim. He’ll be okay.

  But would he be? What about at other times or if he was in Boston and Damon was down here? What if he wasn’t in Damon’s sight? What if...what if...

  “How was that? How many times do we repeat?” Sara asked.

  “You two are doing great. Now for a switch. Take this whistle.” He pulled the chain holding the whistle from his neck and put it over his son’s head. �
�This time, you two go stand up on the beach where your aunt is, and I’ll be the victim.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CADEN FOLLOWED SARA off the beach, down the boardwalk and into town. His da—Mr. Woods—had taken Duck home and said that he had work to do. Aunt Zuri was trailing behind Sara and him and said that she wanted to stop in at the gift shop to look around. He and Sara were headed for the used bookstore. The place looked way cool, even from the outside. The rickety driftwood sign over the door had a palm tree overhanging a washed-up boat full of books carved into it. It made him think of pirate movies and shipwrecks. Castaway Books. The used books were castaways. He got it. Pretty funny.

  “You’ll love this place. I always come here when I visit my Granny Mel,” Sara said. “If you like bookstores and libraries, you’ll never want to leave this place.”

  “Yeah? I like those places. And books. This place looks chill.” God, he hoped that he wasn’t coming off as nerdy. But she said she liked books first, right? So it was probably okay. He hated it when some of the kids back at school teased him for taking piano lessons and always hanging out in the library instead of at a sports practice. He hated team sports. He tried them once—basketball and then soccer—and usually got left out by the more skilled players, who just passed to each other, especially during a game.

  With music and books, he could disappear into a rhythm or world that was so different from the one he had to live in. He could escape his mother’s illness and bullies and not knowing his father. There were no exams and quizzes or homework projects in books, although he was generally okay with writing book reports.

  They reached the storefront and he quickly pulled the door open for Sara. His English teacher once had his class talking about what chivalry was and whether it was dead or alive. That was the first time he’d understood why some guys opened doors. His teacher had been in the army and had always insisted on good manners in class.

  “Thanks,” Sara said. Her cheeks were redder than when they’d left the beach. Probably from the chilly air outside, although he wasn’t that cold. In fact, he was sort of sweating a little.