Special Blessings

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  The couples had arranged to meet on the beach Friday morning, but when Heath and Candace arrived, the Mullens were not in sight. Heath set up the umbrella, under which Candace had spent much of her time during the week, while she and Brooke laid out their large beach blanket and set up some chairs. Howie wanted badly to get in the water, but Heath made him wait until he could go with the little boy. The waves here were only about a foot high, but occasionally a larger one would roll in, and wading people who didn't want to get soaked would screech and rush for higher ground.

  Heath was wary. Candace knew he’d read plenty about Lake Michigan in preparation for this trip. Although the lake was mostly flat, there were strong currents and undertows beneath the surface. It was certainly enough to yank Howie off his feet, and they had discussed the dangers with their children.

  Candace had just settled down in a chair when Eason and Indiana came to stand beside her, heedless of the sand they had just tracked over the blanket.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Where's Howie?” Eason wasn't big on manners.

  “He's in the water with Heath. You can join them”—Eason sprinted off toward the waves—“as soon as your daddy gets here.” She stood up and began to run toward the water in alarm, as Eason bypassed Howie and splashed out into the waves. “Heath!”

  He turned and saw her wildly waving, looked back at the waves and reacted instantly. Unfortunately, an extra-large wave rolled in at the very same time. Eason, who was farther out than Howie, disappeared immediately. Howie got knocked down, but Heath grabbed his arm and hauled him up.

  “Go,” he shouted as the wave receded. Howie staggered up toward the waterline, and Candace grabbed him.

  Heath had already plunged back into the water after Eason, who was unable to regain his feet and was being dragged along by the current. A nearby swimmer saw the child in trouble and got to him before Heath did. As he hauled Eason up into his arms, Heath got to them. Eason was sobbing uncontrollably, and he lunged out of the man's arms, reaching for Heath. Heath cuddled him close. “There you go, buddy.” He patted the little back, wincing as Eason retched up seawater. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

  “Too bad you weren't here when he needed you,” Eason's rescuer said angrily. “Don't you know not to let a kid this small swim on his own? This lake is dangerous. He could have drowned.”

  “He's not—”

  “You ought to take better care of your kids.” And the man turned away.

  Candace had left Howie on the beach with Brooke, with Indiana huddled beside Brooke. Candace had rushed into the water in time to hear the man's unfortunate words, and she watched as angry color climbed up Heath's neck and darkened his cheeks. Face like a thundercloud, he started wading toward shore with Eason clinging like a limpet to him.

  Candace couldn't remember ever seeing Heath so steamed before. She hurried out of the water and ran up the beach to grab a towel. Heath carried Eason to her, and she wrapped the subdued child in the towel and began to rock him gently.

  “Where are your parents?” Heath asked Indiana. The little girl looked up at his stern face and promptly burst into tears. Heath muttered something Candace was certain she didn't want to hear, threw up his arms, and stalked away.

  Friday afternoon, the high school counselor's door opened, and she beckoned to the three Bell family members waiting in the exterior area of the guidance office.

  “Come on in, folks. Hope I didn't keep you waiting.” She invited them to take seats in front of her desk, then flipped open a folder and perused it. “I wish,” she finally said, “that we were meeting for more positive reasons.”

  Gideon slouched down in his seat.

  The counselor tapped the folder. “Your grades slipped this past year,” she said to him. “Between Christmas break and the end of the year, your math and English grades both fell. What's going on?”

  “They haven't slipped that much,” he protested.

  “Two letter grades are significant,” she countered. “From an A to a C in two courses? How are you going to handle this, Gideon? Have you met with the JROTC folks yet?”

  James frowned, not seeing a connection. “Why would he need to meet with JROTC?”

  The counselor's eyes opened wide. “Umm, the letter?”

  “What letter?” He glanced at Gideon and saw a look of resigned guilt on his son's face, just as the woman handed a letter across the desk. Fern leaned over, and together they perused the missive.

  “Gideon's in danger of being put on academic probation from JROTC?” Fern asked.

  “It's a first warning, just to let you know things aren't going so well,” the counselor said. “Probation, or release from the program altogether, would require much more serious academic problems. If he continues to have trouble, someone from the program will contact you to discuss the ramifications.”

  “I’m not going to have serious academic problems,” Gideon insisted. “Dad, I told you I was going to get school under control.”

  James was so upset he could barely speak. He felt as if the young man before him was a stranger rather than the honest, courteous child he had raised. “Right now, I’m a lot more concerned about the fact that you deliberately hid a letter from the school. That's the same as lying.”

  James and Fern sat silently, while Gideon worked with the counselor to reschedule his academic courses to include the Advanced Placement and Honors courses about which James had been so concerned. After that, barely another word was spoken until they arrived home again. As they walked into the kitchen, James said, “When the school year begins, your mother and I need to see every single assignment until we’re satisfied your grades have come up.”

  “Dad!”

  “We talked about this before, Gideon. You’re going to be a junior. If you don't get your grades up and keep them up, your GPA may not be high enough for you to stand a chance of getting into any of those schools you talked about.”

  “That would be a problem,” Nelson said under his breath. He had come into the kitchen when they returned. As they watched, he selected an apple from the bowl on the counter and began polishing it.

  “What?” Fern turned to him. “There are other colleges he could apply to.”

  “Not schools that are close to Jenni.” Nelson began to take a bite of his apple, but Gideon launched himself at him.

  “It's none of your business. You need to learn to keep your nose out—”

  “Hey!” James pulled Gideon away from his younger brother. “We do not fistfight in this house. We do not fistfight anywhere. Gideon, you are grounded for a week.”

  “A week?” Gideon was absolutely outraged. “You can't make me stay home for a whole week.”

  James struggled to hold onto his temper. “Yes, I can.” He glanced at Fern. “We can.” He held out his hand. “I’ll need your car keys.”

  “Fine.” Gideon's face was dark with fury. “If I’m going to be grounded for nothing, then I’ll do nothing. And you can forget about JROTC. I quit!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  AFTER THE WATER RESCUE HAD CONCLUDED, IT still was some time before Skip and Margie Mullen came onto the beach with their youngest child Violet. Eason, extremely subdued, was still sitting in Candace's lap when Indiana spotted her parents and went running to greet them. Instantly cured, Eason struggled free of the towel and did the same.

  Candace didn't say anything when the other couple spread out a towel next to them. Heath had gotten up and gone to stand several yards away, staring out over the water. He gave no indication that he knew they were there, although Candace knew he had seen them approach.

  Skip and Margie didn't seem to notice anything amiss. They were full of good cheer and high spirits, talking about dinner plans and tourist attractions that might be fun for the kids. Skip immediately took Eason and Indiana into the water. Had he not noticed that Eason's suit was damp? Margie waved over her shoulder as Violet dragged her toward the water. “See you in a bit.”


  Heath rejoined her after a few moments. Howie and Brooke were building a sand castle with several other kids they’d met earlier in the week, and he glanced to be sure they weren't within earshot. “So how do we say, ‘Don't leave your kids alone on the beach,’ again? I just said it yesterday.”

  Candace could see how perturbed he was. She took his hand in silence and just held it, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his knuckles. The initial sense of misgiving she’d felt when the beach vacation was mentioned returned to haunt her. Next time, she vowed to herself, next time she felt that kind of intuition, she’d listen. They never should have agreed to this joint vacation. Looking back, she could see all the possible conflicts that could come up between two families. Thank heavens they hadn't traveled together.

  Skip and Margie returned to the blanket after their water play. Margie took a chair and bundled Violet up in a towel to sit in her lap. Skip dropped into a chair next to Heath and Candace, while Eason and Indiana went off to join the sand castle construction.

  Candace glanced apprehensively at Heath. Heath was still staring at the water, his mouth compressed into a thin line.

  “Water's great, huh?” Skip said. “It's so much warmer than the Pacific.” Skip and Margie had relocated to Illinois from California.

  “The water's nice.” Heath cleared his throat. “Did Eason tell you what happened before you came to the beach?”

  Skip nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. He said a wave knocked him down, and you picked him up. I guess he got a snootful of water, hmm?”

  The child clearly hadn't imparted any sense of urgency to the incident. “He almost drowned,” Heath said flatly. “Another guy got to him before I could, or he might have.” His voice was tightly controlled. “It's really not a good idea to leave them alone on the beach.”

  “They weren't alone,” Skip said, sounding indignant. “We were on our way, and we’d seen you from the lodge, so we knew you were already here.”

  “It was just luck that we even knew they were on the beach,” Heath said, his voice rising. “The undertow here is really strong. He could have been gone before we even saw him.”

  “Well, sorry,” Skip said sarcastically. “I apologize for inflicting my children on you.”

  “I like your children. I just don’t—”

  “Don't worry.” Skip cut off Heath's attempt to salvage the scene. “You won't need to worry about our kids anymore.” He got to his feet and beckoned to Margie. “Let's go.”

  Margie silently rose and began packing up their things.

  “Margie?” Candace began. But the woman flashed a glance brimming with hurt and anger at her, and she fell silent again. None of them said another word as the Mullens gathered up their protesting children and stalked away far, far down the beach.

  Howie stood, a sand castle mold hanging idle in his little hand, looking after them with a disconsolate droop to his shoulders. “Can't you watch us both?” he asked Heath.

  Heath's face fell even farther. “I’m sorry, buddy,” he said. “It's just not that easy.”

  They had the picnic lunch they had brought and stayed on the beach for several more hours, but the joy had gone out of the day. Candace was distressed, thinking of how much she had been enjoying the budding friendship…with the exception of those incidents with the children.

  Heath must have read her mind. As they prepared to leave the beach, he put an arm around her and drew her head to his shoulder. “It had to be said,” he told her, and she suspected he was bolstering his own resolve as much as hers. “You know we did the right thing.”

  She did know. But that didn't make it any easier to lose their friends.

  Cesar came home whistling after his stress test on Saturday morning and found Elena sewing in the bedroom. Elena had been surprised when he’d told her how quickly it had been scheduled. And she’d been alarmed that the doctor had been willing to do it on a Saturday morning.

  “How did you get it scheduled that fast?” she had asked, to which he had simply shrugged.

  “I asked the doctor if he thought it might be a good idea, and he ordered it right then and there. Asked the office to do it as fast as possible.”

  The statement only served to fuel Elena's concern. Even though Cesar had not appeared to have any more chest or arm pain after the day of the softball game, she watched him like a hawk.

  “How did it go?” She’d wanted to accompany him when he got the appointment scheduled, but Cesar had flatly refused, as close-mouthed as ever about his health. Really, it was the most exasperating thing.

  He shrugged. “Passed with flying colors, the doc said.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she said fervently. “After all that worry…you must be so relieved. I know I am.”

  Cesar gave her a blank look. “What worry?”

  “You know, after all that concern about heart trouble—”

  “I haven't been concerned about my heart. Have you?” He gave her a direct, no-nonsense look.

  “Well, yes.” Normally the most self-confident of women, she felt herself nearly stammering. “Your diet, the added exercise, your family history, the chest pain…” She took a breath. “And you said you felt like you had one foot in the grave.”

  “Elena.” Cesar put his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve been a little worked up about turning fifty, that's all.” He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “That's all.”

  Indignantly, she said. “Well, you can't blame me for being concerned. It's not as if you talk about your health willingly. I feel like I have to drag every scrap of information out of you.” By the end of that sentence, indignation had given way to a wobbly note as she suppressed a sob.

  Cesar looked completely taken aback. And a little guilty. “Have you been worrying about me having heart failure all this time?”

  She nodded, feeling tears well up and spill down her cheeks. “Yes,” she admitted in a small voice.

  “Oh, baby.” He drew her close, burying his face in her hair. “I’m not leaving you for a long, long time,” he whispered. “So you can just get that thought right out of your head.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  HEATH AND CANDACE WERE ON THE BEACH WITH Howie and Brooke one final time. It was the last day of their vacation, and they all were going to be sorry to leave. Except for the discord with their friends, it had been an extremely pleasant and relaxing week.

  “Mom?” Brooke skidded to a stop in the sand in front of her. “Can we come back here next year?”

  Candace laughed. “It's a little soon to be thinking about next year, don't you think?”

  “I think it's a great suggestion,” Heath said. “I love this place.”

  “It has been nice, hasn't it?” Candace dug her toes into the sand. “I’ll be glad to see Mom, but it seems as if time has gone far too fast.” She looked down the beach with a wistful expression. “I wish there was a way to patch things up with Skip and Margie.”

  The other couple had set up their chairs and blankets quite a distance down the beach from where Heath and Candace were, just as they had yesterday. Howie and Eason had met roughly in the middle and were digging with Skip's shovel again. Heath was keeping an eagle eye on the boys to be sure they weren't digging too deep a hole again.

  Brooke was disconsolate, because she couldn't play with Violet. Fortunately, a family close to them had very young children, and Brooke had already made new friends. At one point, Candace had gone over to warn Brooke not to impose, and the frazzled mother had begged, “Oh no, please let her stay. She's the best entertainment we’ve had in three days.” Candace had laughed and retreated.

  Howie wandered back their way after a little while. “I’m hungry.”

  “I have just the cure for that.” Candace opened the cooler she had packed with sandwiches, apples, and drinks. “How about some lunch?”

  After they had eaten, Howie decided he needed to build “the biggest sand castle you ever saw.” Candace took out the book she’d been reading
. Brooke returned to playing with the nearby children, and the two males sought out the perfect spot and began to build their new and improved sand castle.

  Soon, several other children had joined them. Heath got to his feet and came over to sit on the blanket beside her. “That might keep him occupied for five minutes,” he told her.

  “Thank you,” she said. She couldn't stop herself from glancing down the beach to where the Mullens were. But they were no longer there. Their blankets and chairs were still in place, but the whole family had vanished. Then she spotted Eason and Indiana. They were still playing in the spot they had been in with Howie earlier. But, she noted, Eason had deepened the hole quite a bit.

  She pointed out the children to Heath.

  “Oh no,” he said. “Not another hole in the sand. That looks dangerous.” He frowned. “Do you think I should go speak to them?”

  Candace hesitated. Disciplining someone else's children was a touchy action. It skirted the line between stopping someone's kids from running wild and simply disapproving. “Where do you suppose Skip and Margie have gotten to?” she asked.

  Heath had been scanning the beach. He shaded his eyes with his hand and pointed. “Isn't that them way down the beach? See the couple with the little one in the middle?”

  Candace strained to see. “I think you’re right. At least they have Violet with them.” She shook her head. “I can't imagine letting a child unsupervised here. All it would take is one big wave…”

  Heath nodded. “I know. Fortunately, Eason and Indiana aren't near the water. I think part of the problem is that those two swim so well that it's given Skip and Margie a false sense of security.”

  “That's just careless.” Candace reached into their beach bag and pulled out a local publication she’d been reading. “Right here it talks about the potential for riptides.”

  “I know. But what can we do? We already tried to warn them, and look what's happened.” He stretched out his long legs, and Candace laughed, deliberately refusing to let herself dwell on the lost friendship. “You are covered in sand.”