by Dawn Atkins
And he would back off on the personal talk with Bunny, make sure she took her problems to her mother. It wasn’t much of a fix, but it was all he could do.
Jonah hoped to hell by the time he went to bed, the pink smell would be gone. Fool that he was, he’d miss her anyway.
* * *
“MY DAUGHTER…she talk to Beth Ann. Anoche. Las’ ni’.”
Barrett sat up in bed, fighting the fog of sleep to understand Estrella Sandoval’s halting words.
When he’d visited the Sandovals, she’d promised to call if Beth Ann contacted her daughter Serena. It had happened. At last, two weeks after his release, Barrett had gotten the break he’d been living for.
Estrella told him that late last night, she’d found Serena talking with Beth Ann. Serena admitted they’d spoken before Saturday, but that she’d promised Beth Ann not to tell anyone.
Estrella’s voice shook. Barrett’s hints about la migra had scared her. He rushed to reassure her in the passable Spanish he’d used as a family lawyer. He told her he was grateful to Serena for being a good friend to his daughter and promised to thank them both in person as soon as he could get there.
He’d bring gifts, of course, and extract every detail he could from the little girl and her mother.
At last a lead. Barrett was beside himself with excitement. Malloy’s pretext calls to Cara’s principal and Beth Ann’s school had netted nothing and so far Cara had stayed off the grid. She was smarter than he’d given her credit for.
Barrett jumped in the car, and drove for Barstow, stopping at the first electronics store he passed to buy a big-screen TV and the latest gaming system. By early afternoon, he again sat in the neat trailer, dense with the smell of fried cornmeal, religious pictures on the walls.
The Sandovals were thrilled with his gifts, but wary of him. He promised Beth Ann would visit as soon as possible—a lie, but it made Serena relax enough to repeat every word of each conversation the two girls had had.
Beth Ann had told Serena she lived above a café where her mother was a waitress. Cara’s mother’s rattletrap had broken down as he’d speculated, but Serena didn’t know how long they’d been on the road when it happened or the name of the café or the town where it was located.
Interstates snaked in all directions from Barstow, but Malloy could earn his keep calling restaurants in an ever-widening radius, asking about new hires.
Serena told him Beth Ann had made friends with a wild cat with one eye, that she’d built a wooden treasure box, that she loved ketchup and that she missed Serena, her teacher and her school.
Barrett made the girl swear that, if Beth Ann called again, she would keep his visit a secret so as not to spoil the surprise, but if she learned the name of the café or the town, she would call him.
Serena nodded yes, her eyes big and earnest. Estrella would enforce the promise. The threat of la migra hovered over her like the angels in the painting above her head.
One thing Serena said had upset him. The reason Beth Ann had called so late was that she’d had a bad dream and couldn’t find her mother. That made Barrett’s blood boil. What the hell was Cara doing? It had been a Saturday night. Was she bar hopping? On a date? Had she turned into her mother, constantly after male attention?
No. It couldn’t be. Cara was too sweet for that. He mentally slammed the manhole cover on his roiling rage. This got harder each day that passed without finding his family. He’d begun to exceed the recommended dose of mood pills just to keep from exploding at his poor mother over minor annoyances.
But now he was close. So close. Barrett burned with adrenaline. He had half a mind to start hunting himself. The wait was killing him.
He tried to stay busy. He’d found a house and the sellers had accepted his offer. He would keep Cara busy decorating it. Nesting, they called it.
There was one other painful detail Serena had shared. Cara had been baking again. That was good, but it reminded him of when she’d stopped. Once she’d gotten it in her head to go to college, she’d had no time to bake. No time for him or Beth Ann or the ordinary joys that made life worth living.
She’d gotten lost, become selfish. It was his mission to help her find her way back to the contentment she’d lost in the fruitless search for external approval.
He would approach her with love.
Cara, my darling. If I could take back every hard word, every angry touch, I would. I support you. I respect you. I adore you. We need to be a family again. To be whole.
The words brought tears to his eyes. He hoped they’d do the same for Cara.
Soon he would have her at his side and his daughter on his shoulders—though Beth Ann was nine now, possibly too old for piggyback rides.
But no child outgrew ice cream.
They’d have Family Night at Carcher’s every night if it made Beth Ann happy. He wanted to give her the world. He couldn’t wait. It was hard not to call her right now. He’d programmed her number into his phone. Two clicks and he’d hear her voice in his ear.
Wait. Use caution. In his law practice, he’d dealt with fearful women. Barrett knew to proceed with care. Before he made contact, he had to locate them and assess their situation, determine the best approach. He couldn’t afford one false step.
If he lost them again, he didn’t know what he might be forced to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MONDAY, AFTER she got back from the first day of day camp, Beth Ann headed for Jonah’s shop. She had to use his computer. Had to.
She hoped Jonah wouldn’t be grouchy like yesterday. He’d showed her how to use the vise and a small saw to cut short legs for her castle stand, but he’d hardly talked to her. When he looked at her, he frowned. Had her mom told him about Beth Ann’s crying fit the night before? Did he think she was a baby?
That idea made her feel sick. She hated for Jonah to think she was that weak. She would have stayed away today, but she had to find out what happened to Serena. Jonah’s computer was the only way she could think of.
She’d called Serena Saturday night because she’d had to. First, she’d dreamed her daddy was chasing her with a knife and she woke up gasping for air. Then she ran to her mom’s room, but the bed was made. She’s gone. She’s gone. Daddy took her. I’m all alone. It was how she’d felt when her mom got put in the coma. Her grandma had said she might not wake up ever.
Standing there so scared, Beth Ann’s brain went black as midnight and she started to shake like that time she’d had the flu. She ran for her puzzle box and called her friend. She had to. It was an emergency.
And it helped. Serena calmed her down just talking about ordinary things. Chulita. The last days of school. The laptop she got to check out from school for the summer because of her good grades. She told her that Beth Ann had won the reading prize. But Serena hung up in the middle of telling her about Water Day. Then all day Sunday she didn’t answer her phone. That was weird. Had her mom taken it away? Was Serena in trouble?
Beth Ann had to find out. Two girls she’d met at day camp had reminded her of a way to do it. They were the only other third-graders besides Beth Ann at the stupid camp, so they had to talk to her.
Amanda was kind of bossy and a show-off, but she included Beth Ann when she and Rachel started IM’ing each other with their iPads instead of making sock puppets like the little kids.
Beth Ann had used Instant Message at school. And Serena had a laptop now. She’d said it was because of her gra
des, but Beth Ann knew it was also because her family was poor.
Beth Ann would download the free IM program on Jonah’s computer and text Serena. Instant Message would be good, too, since Beth Ann had used up half the minutes on the secret phone.
At the workshop door, Beth Ann took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could hear Jonah hammering. Please don’t be grouchy at me. Pretty please.
She opened her eyes and went in. “Hey, Jonah.”
“Hey.” Jonah gave a quick smile, then went back to work. So far, so good.
“Is it okay to use your computer?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Whew. She climbed onto the stool, clicked onto the internet, so nervous she felt sweat pop everywhere on her body.
In a few seconds, she had Instant Message loaded and she logged in, then clicked her friends list, her heart racing. SerenaS was offline. Darn, darn, darn. She wrote a message anyway so Serena would see it the next time she used WiFi in the rec center at her trailer park.
Now she had to wait. She logged out and scooted over to her castle so she could put the legs on the base.
“Drawbridge working okay?” Jonah asked.
Beth Ann pulled the string, but it popped out. “The knot won’t hold.”
He walked over and looked at it, then went to get something from one of his drawers. He brought her back a spool of plastic thread. “This is thicker. Try it.” He went back to work.
She cut some thread, knotted it and tested it. “It worked. Now all I have to finish is the base.”
“You built a handsome castle.” He was being nice. Maybe he’d forgotten about her being a crybaby.
“I like it.” The walls were wavy and the towers didn’t match, but she was proud of it. “I wish it could be real. I could pull up the drawbridge and be totally private.”
“Yeah? I built a tree fort like that when I was a little older than you. Put the lowest rung too high for my little brother to reach. Mean, I guess, but I wanted a place of my own.”
“That would be cool.”
“It was.” He looked over at her. “Was camp as bad as you expected?”
“Mostly, yeah. It was all little kids except for two girls my age.”
“Did you like them?”
“They’re okay. Amanda’s bossy. Rachel’s quiet. She likes cats.”
“So you hung out?”
“We were stuck together. Their other friends are on vacation.” Listening to them talk and joke made her miss Serena more than ever.
“You have to get used to each other. Maybe invite the one who likes cats out to meet Louis or—no.” He frowned. “That’s up to you and your mom. I need to get this work done.”
He was mad at her. Her cheeks felt hot, so she focused on finishing her castle. She measured the legs, then checked again before she cut, but when she glued them on, the base slanted down. She sighed.
“Troubles?” Jonah asked.
“The legs don’t match. I measured twice and cut once.”
“You can still make a mistake, Squirt.”
“You don’t.”
“Sure I do. I just don’t talk about it. I’ve redone the lip for this pastry display case twice now. You’ll get better.”
“I have to start over, right? Since wood doesn’t forgive?”
“You’ve got plenty of scrap. It’s good practice.”
“The reason wood doesn’t forgive is because it’s hard.” Beth Ann measured and marked the skinny board. “My grandma says my mom’s heart is hard. That’s why she doesn’t forgive.” She’d said it during that bad argument. Saying it out loud now made her throat ache.
Jonah put down his hammer and turned to her. “That’s baloney. Your mom has a big heart.” He paused. “She loves you like crazy. In fact—” He frowned. “Just talk to her. I’ve got work to do here.”
She sucked in a breath. She’d made him angry. She couldn’t stand it. “Is it because I talk too much? Is that why you’re mad at me?”
“Mad at you? I’m not mad at you. You can talk all you want about woodwork. I’m no good at the personal stuff. That’s for your mom and you.”
Her cheeks felt hotter than ever.
Serena was gone and now Jonah didn’t want to talk to her. She didn’t feel like being in the shop anymore. She got off her stool.
“You heading out?”
She nodded.
“You get what I said? About talking to your mom?”
She nodded again, but it wouldn’t work. Her mom would just feel worse and worry more. And Beth Ann had already hurt her mom enough.
“And there isn’t one thing you could do that your mom wouldn’t forgive, Beth Ann. That’s the last I’ll say about that.”
“Okay,” she said to be polite. She was almost to the café when she realized he’d called her Beth Ann. Not Bunny or even Squirt. How did he know her name? It was probably a mistake, but she didn’t care. It felt like a hug for her heart. It almost took away the hurt of him not wanting to talk to her anymore.
* * *
TUESDAY NIGHT AFTER supper, Cara headed to Jonah’s woodshop. He wanted her to approve the colors he would paint the new sign. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have entered his sanctuary. The disagreement about Beth Ann had put distance between them. The easy teasing was gone, along with the intense looks, the secret smiles, the thrill of casual touches, the intimacy and connection. She missed that. She missed him.
They worked together still, but it wasn’t the same. Cara felt alone.
She was determined to get back to being friends again. Surely, they could get past her bad judgment. They’d come so far. She’d brought a peace offering—a puzzle box with Jonah’s Treasures burned into the lid she’d found in a crate she’d emptied for Rosie’s yard sale. She hoped looking through it would get them talking like they used to.
At the doorway, she stopped to watch Jonah work. He was hammering nails into the pastry display case. Watching him doing the work he loved put butterflies in her stomach and made her pulse race. But that happened every time she caught sight of him—standing, sitting, walking around, flipping burgers on the grill.
Cara steadied herself, put the box on a shelf just inside the door for when they’d finished with business, and stepped into the lovely sawdust smell and cozy golden light of Jonah’s haven.
“Hey,” she said softly.
He turned to her, hammer in hand. “Hey.” He looked delighted to see her. His gaze stayed on her, drinking her in. He misses me, too.
That gave her hope as she walked closer. “Looks like you’re nearly done,” she said, touching the corner of the case.
“Just need to put in the rotating racks, lights and the sliding glass doors.”
“It’s beautiful.” She ran her hand over the curlicues he’d carved into the borders. “This is like the teacup steam, huh?”
“That’s the idea.”
“You added so much detail.”
He shrugged. “I wanted it to be right.”
“It’s like everything you build—functional and beautiful.”
He looked down, embarrassed by her praise. “The sign won’t take me long once you approve the colors. I’ll install the case once we finish painting on Monday.”
“That’s perfect. Darlene said she’ll help us paint. She’s going to cover my shifts while I run Rosie’s sale. She wants any extra shifts we can give her. I guess her boyfriend’s not working much.”
“Co
nstruction’s down.”
“I hired him to hang the sign, by the way. His boss has a cherry-picker.”
“Good. You haven’t missed a detail, CJ.”
“So far,” she said, but his admiration warmed her. His admiration and the way he kept drinking her in.
“You even got Rosie out of town until the dust settles.”
Rosie. Her stomach clenched. Monday was her surgery. Cara was so scared for her.
“We’re going to have to start calling you Rosie Whisperer.”
“I don’t know about that.” If Rosie did have cancer, it would take more than whispers to get her to cooperate with treatment.
“Something up?” he asked.
“Just that we have a lot going on.” She didn’t want to have to fib about Rosie any more than she had already.
“Let me show you the sign.” He led her to his computer on Beth Ann’s worktable. She sat on the stool and he leaned past her to click the mouse. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, grateful she was sitting so her knees couldn’t buckle. Being this near him was a guilty pleasure.
“What do you think?”
She opened her eyes to see the sketch colored in. The teacup was lilac with mustard accents. The letters were in red with black shadows.
“I love it,” she said. “It’s friendly and festive and fresh. Exactly the feeling I want for the café.”
“Then I’ll go with that.” He turned to her, so close it was almost an embrace. His breath hitched. Hers did the same. She noticed flecks of latte in the espresso of his eyes…and the golden glow in the center. Desire.
It flickered, then went out, like a failing fluorescent bulb. That was proper, but it made her sad.
She turned away and noticed Beth Ann’s castle. “It was a good idea to get her building with toothpicks. So was inviting Rachel out to meet the cat.”
“On that, I didn’t mean to interfere.”
“You didn’t. I also thought about what you said. Maybe I do hover too much.”
