Forever Beach

by Shelley Noble

  “Why do I have to go?”

  “Because Carmen . . .” The words stuck in her throat. “Because Carmen is your beginning mother. She loves you, too. Like the book says. Everybody loves you.”

  Leila shook her head.

  “I’m your forever mommee. No matter what.”

  God, she knew she wasn’t supposed to say things like that until it was a done deal. But it should have been over by now. Not this ripping of their lives and their hearts. Maybe if she promised Carmen that she would be a part of their lives, she would give up the appeal.

  But Sarah didn’t want her to be a part of their lives. And if that was selfish, then so be it. Carmen came with too much baggage, had caused too many frightening memories, jeopardized Leila’s safety, and she couldn’t be trusted not to slip back again.

  Leila clung to Sarah while she tried to make breakfast and finally gave up and poured Cheerios into a bowl. Leila sat but she didn’t eat.

  “Honey, you’ll make yourself sick if you don’t have breakfast.”

  “Then do I have to go?”

  Sarah nodded and quickly turned away. “Just for a little while.”

  Leila refused to get dressed, then hid behind Sam’s chair in the living room until Sarah had to drag her out. She kicked and screamed while Sarah carried her into her bedroom.

  “Leila, Danny will be here soon. The sooner you get ready, the sooner you’ll be back.” A lie but Sarah was feeling a little ragged. It didn’t work. She set Leila on the bed where she lay stiff legged and armed while Sarah dressed her.

  This wasn’t right. This was almost as bad as waking up one morning and realizing you’re a cockroach. Sarah had read that story in high school. She thought it was so unfair then. Before she knew what it was like to really feel like a cockroach. But that’s what she felt like now.

  When Sarah tried to pull Leila up, she refused to help. Fine, let Danny come and get her.

  “I love you, sunshine. And I’m sorry that you have to go. But you will come back soon and then we’ll have some fun.”

  Nothing.

  She walked out of the room. Walked down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water, splashed more water over her face. Glanced at her computer. What was she even contemplating. Was she crazy?

  Sam’s words radiated from the surface of the fridge. Fix the now.

  “How, Sam? Tell me how.”

  The doorbell rang, and her stomach flipped over. It was just a few hours, she told herself. Just like she told Leila, just a few hours. Forcing herself to appear calm, to breathe evenly, she went to answer the door.

  “Hi,” Danny said. He didn’t look very happy about being here. Well, he should have made more of a stink. She opened the door far enough for him to come in. What was there to say?

  She left him standing in the little entranceway, the place where bad news always seemed to rest. As long as it didn’t make its way farther into the cottage—if she could keep it away, they would be safe.

  Leila was behind Sam’s chair. Sarah knew it, but she didn’t find her right away. If Sam had been there, he would have known what to do. He would have told Danny to piss off, told the courts to stop thinking about the unimportant stuff and see the whole child.

  But Sam wasn’t here, and his chair couldn’t protect either of them for long.

  “Time to go,” Sarah said, not bending down, but just standing where Danny could see her. She looked back at him, looking uncomfortable and helpless, and something snapped. Be an advocate, dammit.

  “Come get her.” She stepped back out of the way.

  He stared at her. He didn’t move.

  “Sarah, don’t make this difficult.”

  “Me? We were having a perfectly nice morning until you came.” Another lie but at this point she didn’t really care. “We were having a perfectly nice life until all this bullshit started. So what are you waiting for? I would have gladly taken her to all these visitations, but Carmen didn’t want me there. So now it’s your duty. Go for it, but don’t expect me to make it easier for you.”

  Danny swallowed, she could see his Adam’s apple bobble. He walked over to her, looked behind the chair.

  “Hey, Leila. Ready to go?”

  She shoved herself farther back in the corner.

  “Come on, you don’t want to be late.” He reached in for her. Her feet started pumping. He jumped back.

  “Sarah. Help me out, will you?”

  “Why? Can’t you see that she doesn’t want to go?”

  “It’s just confusing for her if you don’t help with the transition.”

  Sarah took a step forward. “Don’t. Don’t even try to blame me for this. I’ve done everything by the book. Made that stupid book about having two mothers who love you. For what? To have this innocent child traumatized week after week, and then just when you think life will be normal, they make her do it all over again. Did you even read the reports of the last two times we went through this?”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “That’s hardly an excuse.” She pushed him out of the way, squeezed in behind the chair. And sat. Leila had her face to the wall.

  “Look, sport, we can’t get out of this. But your Mickey clock is in your backpack, and when it goes off it will be time to come home. And Danny will drive you here. And then Wyatt said he’d take us for pizza. Won’t that be fun?”

  At last Leila peeked out at that.

  “I’ll be right here when Danny brings you home, and then we’ll have pizza. And tomorrow we’ll have the whole day to play.”

  Leila relaxed just enough for Sarah to lift her out, then stagger to her feet with her clinging to her neck.

  She gave Danny a look that should hurt. He reacted appropriately and peeled Leila’s arms from Sarah’s neck.

  “You’re my sunshine,” she called to Leila as he walked to the door.

  “You better not let anything happen to her,” she added under her breath.

  Danny jerked his head back and forth a couple of times.

  “See you in a few. I love you forever.”

  She waited to make sure Danny put Leila in the car seat. Not an easy feat, since Leila didn’t help and Sarah didn’t offer further assistance.

  Sarah watched as they drove away, then closed the door and rested her forehead against the cool wood. She knew she had to go into the store to work or she’d make herself crazy. She could hardly wait to hear what Alice had to say. It was bound to cut to the quick.

  She showered and changed and tried to pretend like life was wonderful. And for the most part it was. It would be complete once Leila was adopted. And if Carmen fought back—she thought about the laptop open to her bank accounts—Well, she’d deal with that, too.

  THE FIRST THING Ilona thought when she woke up Saturday morning was the satisfaction of a job well done. The Sobrato divorce case wrapped Friday morning. Just in time for the weekend. Ilona had gotten everything she’d asked for. As soon as the hearing was over, she marched Olivia right downstairs to probate and signed her up to have his wages garnished. No easy feat when he owned his own company.

  Her forensic accountant had found enough discrepancies in the books to make him sweat. There was no doubt he was taking in more than he was declaring and to avoid the tax man, he’d handed over a wad of cash and two of their homes.

  That wouldn’t prevent Ilona from giving a little call to the IRS. Good citizen that she was.

  She’d gone the extra mile just to nail the bastard, and she was pleased with the outcome. Any qualms she might have had over her role in the Delgado custody hearing were put to rest. Her momentary doubt had been nothing but an aberration brought on by her father’s note and delivery of the box.

  Which she had shoved into the bottom of the coat closet before going to bed. Did she really want to know what her mother, June, had thought worth saving?

  Nothing like pleading a high-profile case to put it all into perspective. As far as Ilona was concerned, she’d gotten a good settlemen
t for one client and a chance to reunite another with her mother. She was pleased with her work on both fronts.

  Olivia Sobrato was free to spend her money. Let the courts deal with Leila Rodrigues. They’d asked for her opinion and she’d given it.

  There had been that one tiny niggle of doubt. It was mostly gone this morning. And a good hard game of tennis with Garrett would kill whatever residual doubt might be lurking.

  It wasn’t that she was ambivalent about what she’d done or even how she’d done it. It was the realization that she had, even for a second, questioned her own motivations. Only for a brief moment did she wonder if her actions had stemmed from her belief in the Delgado case, or if it was a knee-jerk reaction to Sarah Hargreaves.

  Today there was no question; Ilona Cartwright did not have knee-jerk reactions.

  But she did have a date for tennis, dinner, and sex. She was actually looking forward to all three.

  TANISHA WAS SURPRISED but delighted when Reesa walked into the center and asked if she’d hired a development director.

  “Not yet, but we’ll find somebody. Not everybody cares about making a lot of money.”

  “Well, I’d like to apply for the job.”

  Tanisha’s mouth went slack. “You want to work for the center?”

  “For a while, if I have the qualifications.”

  “Qualify? Oh man, this is great. Are you serious?”

  Reesa nodded. “I still have a few things to wrap up at CP&P, but I’ll give you what time I can until that work is finished.”

  “Oh, wow! Really?”

  “Yes, if you think I’ll be a good fit.”

  “The best. Let’s go tell everybody.”

  Reesa followed in her enthusiastic wake, hoping she hadn’t just blown her retirement and her marriage by a rash act of had enough. Michael hadn’t come home last night, nor did he call. And she’d be damned if she’d call him. Maybe his brother could talk some sense into him. And if not, he could have him full-time.

  They could put the house on the market and Reesa would find a little apartment somewhere, which reminded her, she should check to make sure Ms. McKinney had gotten moved into the assisted living building.

  First stop was the computer room, where twelve young and old women sat before keyboards listening to a heavyset woman explain how to log in.

  “Excuse me for interrupting, but I have good news. Reesa Davis has just accepted the position of development director for the center.”

  Tanisha turned to present Reesa, who smiled and waved, and then Tanisha backed her out of the door.

  “This is just so great,” Tanisha said as they moved onto the next classroom. Once they’d made the rounds and were standing in front of the main office, Reesa said. “Maybe you should show me what outreach you’ve done so far.”

  Tanisha winced. “It’s mainly me begging the local businesses to help out. And we did get a couple of grants through the town and one from the state.”

  In other words, not much. Reesa had her work cut out for her. But she also had knowledge of the system and where to get grants and who to call for help. Almost two decades in social services had taught her how to navigate the not-for-profit waters.

  “There’s a little office that you can have.” Tanisha frowned, bit her lip. “It doesn’t have a window.”

  Reesa laughed. Really laughed. “That’s quite all right. I wouldn’t know what to do with one.”

  The office was maybe eight by nine, with a battered desk and a rolling desk chair whose cushion sagged in the shape of the last person who had called it home. She’d have to bring her own computer and a file cabinet and ask the preschool class for some artwork. But as far as offices went, it looked pretty darn good.

  SARAH GLANCED AT her watch for probably the twentieth time that day. Standing in a shop full of clocks, she was obsessed by only one time. Five o’clock—when Leila would be back.

  The day, of course, dragged on. It was a brilliant beach day, and not too many people were thinking about keeping track of time. They made a few sales, and Sarah managed to catch up on several small repairs, while wondering how the unsupervised visit was going. But she couldn’t seem to make headway on Mrs. Bridges’s violin clock. She would fit sections one and two together, but when she connected the next section, it refused to fit in the casing. She took it out again. Tested each section separately, they all fit. Put two together, still fit, added the third. And was stopped again. None of the screw holes lined up and several of the parts didn’t sit flush. She took them apart, rehammered the angles . . . would start again.

  At four thirty Wyatt came through the door, stopping to flirt with Alice who was not averse to his overtures.

  “I’ve come to take her away,” he said. And trundled Sarah out the back door.

  He put his arm around her as they walked next door and went in the back. “I meant to get here earlier, but I had a rush on board wax at the last minute.”

  “Unlike clocks,” Sarah told him.

  “Slow day?”

  “Too sunny and gorgeous to be worried about time,” she said, wondering why the violin clock was turning out to be such a challenge.

  Wyatt ducked his head to see her better. “Except you. I knew you’d be crawling the walls by now. So I decided to come over and be here to offer pizza and putt-putt and whatever will smooth over the transition.”

  “Putt-putt?”

  “Hey, putt-putt is a real man’s sport.”

  “Uh-huh.” She knew he was trying to take her mind off Leila and she appreciated it.

  Once they were in the kitchen, he turned her around and kissed her. She let herself lean against him, a temporary haven from the outside world.

  “Too bad I didn’t get here earlier,” he said with a sigh.

  Sarah laughed and pushed him away. “How about a glass of hibiscus tea instead?” She went over to the fridge and got out the pitcher of tea. When she turned around, Wyatt was looking at the papers she’d left by her laptop on the kitchen table.

  “What’s this?” he asked. “None of my business probably, but tell me anyway.”

  “I was just doing some budgeting this morning before work.”

  Wyatt picked up the top paper.

  Sarah had to force herself not to snatch it out of his hand. “You’re awfully nosy today.”

  “Not really, but you left it out and this looks to me like you’re considering some drastic changes. Are you having money troubles? Because—”

  “No. Everything is fine.”

  “Then why does it look like you’re planning on selling the store?” He picked up the second sheet. “The house, too?”

  “I was just seeing what my assets were.”

  “Why would you— Sarah, you’re not planning on doing something radical.”

  She shook her head.

  “Because if you’re thinking you could sell everything and run away with Leila, it just won’t work. Is that what all these figures are about?”

  Sarah bit her lip. She didn’t like lying, and she didn’t want to lie to Wyatt. Besides, he would know. He already knew. “I just wanted to see.”

  He took her by the shoulders. “Listen to me. It won’t work. You can’t do that to yourself or to Leila. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to sell that quickly and the authorities would just follow the money trail.”

  “Then I could just take her and go.”

  “Honey, would you listen to yourself? Is that the kind of life you want for either of you? Change your names, living in hiding, not letting anyone get close to you. Is that any way to live your life or raise a child?”

  “But what if they give Leila back to Carmen?”

  He looked at her long and hard, then pulled her close. “Then you’ll have to accept it and figure out how you want to handle it.”

  “But what if she hurts her?”

  “Then they’ll take her away again. But you’ll have to get on with your own life. You’ve lived your life completely around her for the
last two years. That’s not healthy for either of you.”

  “It’s just because everything is always so up in the air.”

  “And always will be whether you have Leila or not. It’s called life.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Sarah jumped away. “It must be them. They’re early. I hope everything is okay.” She hurried to get the door.

  Danny was standing on the doorstep, holding Leila’s hand. His expression was stormy.

  “Here,” he said, ushering Leila inside. “She didn’t want to leave.”

  Sarah’s heart broke. She felt Wyatt come up behind her and put his hand on her back.

  Sarah roused herself. “Come in.”

  Danny dragged Leila in. “Good-bye, Leila. See you next week,” he said, but his voice lacked any sign of conviction.

  “I don’t like you,” Leila said and kicked him in the shin.

  “Leila! We do not hit or kick people. Apologize to Danny.”

  “No!” She stalked past them.

  “I’m really sorry. I’ll go get her.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Danny said, backing toward the door. “I’ll call before next Saturday.”

  “Do you want me to take her over next week?”

  “No, Carmen doesn’t want you there. But everything looked fine when I dropped her off. And when I asked Leila if she had a good time, she said yes. Let’s just go with the status quo until the outcome of the appeal.”

  He left and Sarah went in search of Leila. She found her where she knew she’d be, behind Sam’s chair. Maybe Sam was protecting her from wherever he was.

  “That was very naughty to kick Danny. He’s just doing his job and driving you safely to the places you have to go.”

  Though Sarah had to admit, she’d felt like kicking him and everyone else involved.

  “You can tell him you’re sorry the next time he comes.”

  “No.”

  “Why did you kick him?”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “Well, come on out and let’s discuss this.”

  Leila huffed and turned her back on Sarah.

  “Please come out now.”

  A shake of the head. At least she was still communicating, which was better than the dreaded silences.