He squirted a small amount in his hand, rubbed his hands together, and swiped it on his arms and chest. “You need more than that,” Ann said. “At least twice that much.”
“It makes the sand stick to me,” he protested. She looked at him without saying anything. “All right. But I can’t do my back.”
She put out her hand for the bottle and motioned for him to turn around. Three quick swipes and the lotion was distributed. “Now you can go.”
This time, instead of heading for the waves, he cut to his left and went up to the couple under the umbrella. Ann frowned. Jeremy knew better than to approach strangers. But then she could see by the welcoming look on the man’s face, he and Jeremy weren’t strangers. They talked for several minutes before the man rose from his chair and accompanied Jeremy to the shoreline. They sat down together and began digging in the wet sand, the man with his hands, Jeremy with his shovel.
Debating what to do, Ann did nothing. After several minutes the woman turned to Ann and motioned to the empty chair beside her. Her mouth formed words that were lost on the breeze the way Ann was sure hers would be, too, if she tried to reply. Trapped by a lifetime of abiding by social mores, Ann stood and brushed herself off, then reluctantly joined the woman.
“I apologize if Jeremy disturbed you.” Ann took the man’s vacated seat, not intending to stay but reluctant to stand over the woman for their moment of polite conversation.
“Not at all. He’s a delightful young man.”
“You know each other?” Ann asked carefully.
“I’ve seen him in the flower garden when I walk by in the mornings on my way to watch the otters forage for their breakfast.”
“Do you live around here?”
“We’re summer residents–like you. Only we’ve been coming so long it seems like home.”
“It’s beautiful here,” Ann said. “I can see why you would want to come back.”
“Is it just you and Jeremy?”
“No, my husband came, too. He had some business he had to take care of this morning, or he would be here with us.” Already she was sensitive to being alone. What would it be like if she and Craig really did go their separate ways?
“Men never seem to be completely free of their responsibilities.” She glanced at the man happily playing in the sand with the boy and smiled. “It’s such a shame and yet so much of who they are, don’t you think?”
Ann had never thought about it before, but Craig was without question the most responsible person she’d ever known. It was something she both relied on and took for granted. “It does seem to be something ingrained in the best of them.”
The old woman smiled, and Ann felt as if she’d been given a gift. “Do you come to the beach to watch the otters every morning?”
“It’s become a bit of a habit for us. We like to come when we can have the beach to ourselves. It’s something we’ve been doing for years.” She reached over and put her hand on Ann’s arm. “Not that we wouldn’t like company. You’re most welcome to join us when you’re up and don’t have anything else to do.”
Strangely, Ann felt no sense of intrusion or violation at the woman’s touch. Instead she was filled with a powerful feeling of empathy, as if
Ann could tell her anything and she would understand. “Sometimes I have trouble sleeping–or going back to sleep after I wake up. It would be good to have something to do besides lie there and think.”
“I know what that’s like. And you’re right about having too much time to think.” She gently patted Ann’s arm and gave her a wistful smile. “There isn’t a problem that can’t be made bigger or more important by spending too much energy trying to solve it. I’ve found most things work themselves out eventually. You just need to give them enough time.”
“How much is enough?” Ann asked, not really expecting an answer.
“The trick is to pay attention to the clues. Most of us don’t. We seem to get so caught up in feeling bad, we forget what it is to feel good. Or we feel guilty when we do, as if we don’t deserve it.” She shook her head. “Guilt is such a useless emotion, and rarely singular. Even when we treat it as a closely guarded secret, we can’t help but involve those around us.”
“Sometimes guilt is deserved,” Ann stated flatly.
The old woman eyed her. “Something terrible must have happened to make you believe that.”
Ann couldn’t say the words out loud, not even to someone she would likely never see again. “It’s been a difficult year for me … and my husband.”
“And Jeremy?” the woman asked gently.
“Yes, I suppose. But you know how kids are. It doesn’t seem to matter how hard they fall, they bounce right back.”
The woman didn’t say anything for a long time, plainly thinking about what Ann had told her. “Forgive me for intruding in something that is none of my business, but you seem upset with Jeremy.”
The suggestion caught her off guard. “That’s ridiculous. How can anyone blame a kid for being a kid?”
“I’m sorry. Now I’ve upset you. It’s just that I see such sadness in Jeremy, I assumed–”
Jeremy interrupted the conversation when he let out a loud, raucous laugh. Startled, Ann swung around to see what had happened. Like a door thrown open, it hit her that she hadn’t heard Jeremy laugh that way in so long she almost hadn’t recognized it for what it was.
Glistening with a fresh dousing of water, it was obvious an errant wave had caught Jeremy and the old man by surprise as they were filling their bucket with wet sand. Jeremy sat in the retreating surf holding his sides and squealing in delight while, laughing almost as loudly, the old man took off to reclaim their bucket.
The contrast between this child and the child Jeremy was at home was too stark to ignore. He went to school and played with his friends and celebrated his birthday a couple of hundred miles from home without protest. He was a normal ten-year-old boy. Or so she’d convinced herself. Could it be she saw what she wanted to see–or what she needed to see?
What she wanted, what she needed right then, was to be alone. A smile in place, with more effort than she wanted to reveal, she said, “I’ve enjoyed talking to you, but I’ve taken up way too much of your time. Perhaps we’ll run into each other again.”
“Six-thirty tomorrow morning–if you’d still like to join me.”
It took a second for the invitation to register. “Oh–you mean to watch the otters.”
“If you’re up and not doing anything, it truly is a special way to start your morning.”
“I’ll certainly keep it in mind.” She could hardly claim six-thirty was too early when she’d already admitted she had trouble sleeping. “But please don’t look for me. I would hate to think you were outside waiting while I was still curled up in bed.”
The woman nodded and smiled tolerantly. Ann couldn’t decide if she’d accepted the polite brush-off or discounted it. Either way she left with the feeling she had been maneuvered into something. She just didn’t know what it was.
5
CAUGHT UP IN THE PROSPECT OF A FIELD audit by the IRS for his biggest client, Craig almost missed his beach house neighbor waving to him as he pulled into the driveway. They’d spoken in passing but nothing beyond a casual good morning or evening so he was mildly surprised when he glanced out the rearview mirror and saw Andrew Wells approaching.
“Do you have a minute?” Andrew asked.
“Sure.” Craig tucked the faxes he’d picked up at the copy shop under his arm. “What can I do for you?”
“The woman who rented your house last month just discovered she was missing an earring. It’s only sentimentally valuable, but she’s going nuts looking for it and was hoping she might have left it here.”
“Miniature sand dollar on a silver hook?”
Andrew smiled. “That’s it. The guy she’s engaged to gave it to her, and she wants to wear it at their wedding.”
“Come on in. I’ll get it for you.”
Andrew followed him in the house and waited in the living room while Craig went into the bedroom. He was back seconds later and handed Andrew the earring. “I’m always amazed how this place changes with the people who rent it,” Andrew commented. “Same house, same furniture, but somehow different. It’s almost as if it takes on the personality of the people who are staying in it.”
“Have there been a lot?”
“Not as many as you’d think considering how old this place is.”
“Whoever owns the house obviously loves it. I was surprised to see how well cared for it is. If there was any way I could manage it, I’d stay another month. But like I told the rental agent, one month away from business was a challenge, two is downright impossible. I have a feeling she’s not going to be able to find anyone at this late date, at least not anyone who can take it the whole four weeks.”
“I was under the impression the house had been rented for August.”
“It was, but I guess the people backed out.”
“When did you find out?”
“Yesterday. The agent said we were the first people she called because she wanted to give us first refusal. I have a feeling it had a lot more to do with us being the only prospects.”
“I think I might know someone who would be interested,” Andrew said.
Craig decided it had to be someone Andrew was involved with. No man lit up like that at the prospect of friends moving in next door. Even with the darkness of the past year clouding his thoughts, he could clearly remember the anticipation he’d felt at his and Ann’s first weekend away together. Looking back he saw himself as impossibly young and carefree.
“I’d call right away–just in case I’m wrong about the agent’s motives for getting in touch with us first.”
Andrew grinned. “My thoughts exactly.”
Craig saw him to the door. “If you’re not doing anything tonight, why don’t you come over. I picked up a bottle of Merlot that I’ve been wanting to try, and Ann isn’t much of a red wine drinker.”
“Thanks. What time?”
“Seven?”
“I’ll be here.”
Andrew checked his watch as he crossed to his house. He had another half hour before he had to be back at the nursery for a meeting with a new distributor. He could try to run down Cheryl and chance losing the house, which would make her saying yes a moot point. Or he could call the agent and take the house and worry about convincing
Cheryl later. Logic told him it was too late for her to get that much time off. He didn’t even know if she had vacation coming.
But she had weekends. Even if that was all she had, it would be worth taking the house no matter what the cost.
The decision made, Andrew called the agent and was told the house was still available, although she had a couple coming to look at the photographs that afternoon. Andrew told her to call and cancel, that he would be there with the deposit in ten minutes.
Putting himself in a bind for time provided the perfect excuse for delaying his call to Cheryl. Sometimes things just fell into place.
CRAIG CHANGED INTO SHORTS AND SANDALS, took a towel out of the linen cupboard, and headed for the beach. He’d promised Jeremy a day of sand castles and shell hunting and had already spent half of it on work. He had the right to expect at least one of them would keep their promises.
Standing at the top of the stairs, he spotted Ann immediately. She was sitting in the blue-and-white canvas chair they’d brought from home. It took a second to find Jeremy. When Craig did, his jaw literally dropped in surprise.
Jeremy was working on a sculpture of a castle at least six feet long and half as tall. Even from this distance, Craig could see turrets and windows and a flag fluttering in the breeze.
There was no way Jeremy could have built that structure by himself. At just the possibility that Ann had been the one helping him, Craig’s heart did a tap dance that would give Savion Glover a run for his money.
It had to be Ann. No one else was around. At least no kids Jeremy’s age. Hope was like a red carpet of welcome that led him across the sand to his wife and his son.
“That’s amazing,” Craig said, stopping to drop his towel beside Ann and giving her what had passed for a kiss between them the past few months. “How long did it take you?”
She flinched at the obvious happiness in his voice. “I can’t take any credit. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
He didn’t bother to try to hide his disappointment. “Jeremy did that all by himself?”
She came forward in her chair and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “A man helped him.”
Craig looked around. “What man?”
“He and his wife left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“No kids?”
Ann smiled and shook her head. “Not unless they’re one of those medical miracle couples. I’d put them near eighty, if not over.”
Craig stared at Ann’s mouth. Her smile was different. She didn’t have the pinched look she did when she was trying too hard. “He just moved in and started building that thing with Jeremy?”
“If you want to know something, ask. Don’t beat around the bush.”
“I’m trying to understand what an eighty-year-old man is doing playing in the sand with a ten-year-old kid.”
She sent him a piercing look. “Don’t you dare mess up this morning for Jeremy with stupid questions. For every child molester in this world there are a hundred thousand terrific normal people. We were lucky enough to meet a couple of them today, and I hope we get to see a lot more of them while we’re here.”
Her reaction wasn’t what Craig had expected, but he’d take it. Anything was better than apathy. Still, he’d feel more comfortable when he’d met these people himself. While he disliked the idea that he and his peers were raising a generation of paranoid children, he adamantly believed it was better to be safe than sorry.
“I’ll watch what I say,” he told her.
Jeremy spotted him. “Dad–” he shouted. “Come see my fort.”
Craig kicked off his sandals and joined Jeremy, patiently listening as he told him how he and his friend had put everything together. His final statement put an unanticipated lump in Craig’s throat.
“Mom was the one who said there should be windows. She found all the shells and helped me put them in. They look great, don’t they?”
Craig backed up to take it all in. A wave washed over his feet, and he realized the tide was coming in. In an hour the incredible castle would be a memory.
As if reading his mind, Jeremy said, “It’s okay, Dad. We’re going to build another one tomorrow. You can help.”
“Not tomorrow, Jeremy. I have to go home for a couple of days.”
The spark left his eyes.
“I’m sorry. If there was any way I could get out of it, I would.” Jeremy had heard the words too many times for them to carry the meaning Craig wanted to convey. There were things he’d missed in the past when he could have put work off to his partners and didn’t. This time it was just too important. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“It’s all right.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“I don’t want you to,” Jeremy insisted.
Craig scooped Jeremy up in his arms and swung him around. “Are you telling me I’m going to have to go to the aquarium all by myself when I get back?”
Jeremy wrapped his arms around Craig’s neck and held on tight. “What if me and Mom go while you’re gone?”
“What is this? Are you trying to threaten me, young man?”
Jeremy giggled.
“Do you know what happens to little boys who threaten their fathers?” he asked menacingly, walking backward toward the water.
Jeremy wrapped his legs around Craig’s waist and let out a loud, piercing squeal of delight. “Nooooooo–”
“Too late,” Craig told him, stumbling into a wave. “Hold your nose.”
They went under
in a tangle of legs. When they popped up again they were laughing. A memory as warm as a fireplace after a day of skiing worked its way into Craig’s consciousness. This was what it felt like to be happy.
6
ANN WAS UP AND DRESSED IN SWEATS AND running shoes before the sun rose the next morning. She wrote a note for Craig telling him where she was and that she would be back before he had to leave and left it taped to the bathroom mirror.
She was looking forward to time alone–just her and seagulls and sanderlings, and if she were lucky, an otter or two. While it would have been nice to have a guide to the wildlife, she didn’t expect the old woman to be up this early, and Ann couldn’t wait around for her and still get back before Craig had to leave.
Quietly unfastening the lock on the front door, Ann stepped outside and looked at the eastern sky. In minutes, the clouds hugging the mountains had gone from deep purple to lavender. Like sprinters, mornings seemed in a rush to get started while nightfall moved at the slower, more even pace of a marathoner.
She missed running. It was something everyone assumed she did to keep in shape, but they were wrong. She ran because she liked the way it made her feel. Alone on a course with only her thoughts for company, she experienced an intoxicating freedom that made whatever she had to face that day possible. Craig had understood this need in her and for her birthday–which was a month after Angela and Jeremy’s–had given her a high-tech baby stroller so they could go together when he wasn’t there to baby-sit.
When her six-week leave from work neared an end, she asked Craig what he thought of her staying home until Angela started school. He’d given his enthusiastic support, immediately refiguring their budget to accommodate the lost income.
Their lives had been perfect. For three and a half months they had known unbridled happiness and had been lured into believing it would always be that way. How naive they’d been. How foolish.
By the time Ann reached the beach, the sky belonged to the day. She stretched, then headed toward the rocky outcropping at the southern end of the cove at a brisk walk, obeying all the training rules that said to start slow after a long layoff. Despite the good intentions, she was soon at a gentle, loping run, her feet hitting the hard wet sand in long strides, digging in and moving on.
Another Summer Page 15
