Again she shrugged, as if what she said made no difference to her. But he heard the hurt. “Be there when he wanted me,” she said quietly. Trent read between the lines. “And that wasn’t very often?”
Ever private, a protest rose to her lips. She began to say no, then raised her eyes to his. He’d know if she was lying. He had that knack. But she didn’t want him there, didn’t want him seeing her regrets. It was too late to act on them and having him see only compounded the matter.
“You’re Cody’s therapist, Trent, not mine,” she reminded him tersely.
“I’m not being a therapist right now,” he assured her.
“Then what?”
“A friend,” he told her gently. “I’m being a friend. I thought you might be able to use one.”
She had no idea how the distance between them had dissolved, no idea how she’d wound up in his arms, her face pressed against his chest as she struggled to hold back the tears. She only knew she was here, and that Trent held her. And that somehow, just for the moment, her demons were at bay.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “I can.”
Chapter Nine
Laurel lengthened her stride to keep from falling behind. Because it was spring break, Knott’s Berry Farm’s hours began earlier than usual and they had been here since the gates had opened.
Throughout the first few hours, she kept glancing at Cody’s face, hoping for some indication that this “field trip” would be the key that would finally open the glass prison that surrounded her son. That magically he would turn into the little boy she’d brought here about fourteen months ago. A lifetime ago.
Back then Cody’s bright blue eyes had been as big as saucers as he had tried to take in everything at once. Eighty percent of the park looked like weathered scenes from the Wild West and Cody had just discovered cowboys, thanks to an old John Wayne movie on the classic movie channel. His usual gusto for life had all but doubled and he’d been completely enthralled.
But when they’d arrived here this morning, that enthusiasm had been conspicuously absent. His face expressionless, it was as if Cody were sleepwalking through the experience.
The stagecoach ride they took, with Cody seated on top, next to the driver, did nothing to change his demeanor. Neither did the old-fashioned train ride, a rickety fifteen-minute trip, complete with a set of train robbers who bantered with the passengers they were pretending to rob. When one of the robbers attempted to draw Cody into the scenario, the boy merely stared at him. The “robber,” sensing something was wrong, quickly moved on to another boy.
Laurel sighed as they got off the train. It was a noble plan, but it wasn’t working.
She watched Trent swing the little boy off the metal step between the coupled cars and place him down onto the ground. The magic she’d once felt here was gone. “Maybe we should go home,” she suggested.
The magic she’d once felt here was gone. “Maybe we should go home,” she suggested.
Trent looked at her, mild surprise in his eyes. “Why?”
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “It’s not working and there’s no reason for you to waste the rest of your day.”
“I’ve got no place else to be,” he told Laurel. “Do you?”
Two children holding half-eaten cones of cotton candy raced by her, ahead of their parents. She stepped aside to avoid a collision. “No.”
“Then, since we’re here, we might as well stay,” Trent said philosophically. He thought a moment. “Did Cody have a favorite ride here?”
Laurel laughed softly. “The log ride,” she told him.
Damp from the spray that had hit them as the “log” they were riding in had splashed into the water, she and Cody would get off and run to the end of the line, ready for another ride. He couldn’t seem to get his fill of it. And each and every time, Cody had clutched her hand excitedly, squeezing it and shrieking with joy as they had ridden the log down a thirty-foot plunge.
What she wouldn’t give to have that back.
“All right, then we’ll hit the log ride,” Trent declared. “And after that, the petting zoo.” He turned to look at the boy. “Does that sound good to you, Cody? The log ride and then the petting zoo?” As he asked, he watched Cody’s face closely for any sign of a connection. Cody raised his eyes from the ground and looked at him. And then there was just the smallest, almost imperceptible inclination of his head.
“That’s a yes,” Trent announced, slanting a look in Laurel’s direction.
Taking Cody’s hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Trent placed his other hand against Laurel’s back to guide her. With both in tow, he hurried them along through the park, crossing the tracks before the train that was just moments from another run through “the badlands.”
Quickening her pace, Laurel felt a lump in her throat. God help her, but she felt as if they were a unit. A family. If only life had “do overs,” she knew which moment she would choose.
But despite Trent’s patience and kindness, in her heart she felt that he would never forgive her for hurting him. Not just because she’d turned him down and disappeared, but because she’d then married someone else. The very act had been like a slap in the face for him, especially in light of the circumstances. Her reason for not saying yes to him was because, ultimately, she was haunted by what had happened to her as a child. A little girl was supposed to trust her father, be protected by her father. If she couldn’t rely on him, if he turned out to be the very one who physically and emotionally hurt her instead of being there for her, how could she trust any other man? Trent had accepted this on some level. But how could he accept the fact that after everything, she had turned around and married Matt less than six months later? She wasn’t about to tell Trent why she had done it because that would be making excuses for herself. Moreover, she saw it as begging him to understand, and she couldn’t beg, not for herself. For Cody was another matter.
And despite the shadow in their past, Trent was coming through for Cody, wasn’t he?
I wish I’d had a little more faith in you—and my heart, back then, Trent. Things would have turned out very differently. The line for the log ride was long, snaking around the perimeter of the so-called
“lake” where the logs came down from the flume. But for the moment, the line moved rather quickly. They made their way up along the outside of the
“mountainside” until they finally came to stand before the hollowed-out mock logs.
“Keep moving, keep moving,” an attendant in the red flannel shirt, jeans, woolen cap and high-laced leather boots urged, waving the three of them into a vacant log.
“One in back, two in front.” He guided Trent to take a seat in the rear and thus balance out their weight. Trent got in, then extended his hand to Laurel to help her into the log. Once inside, Laurel helped her son in, as they all took their seats almost simultaneously. Sitting inside the rectangular, narrow space was far from comfortable. Trent’s long legs formed a parenthesis around hers, and her legs in turn stretched on either side of Cody to buffer the jolting ride.
Trent’s legs being around hers, however, didn’t serve as a buffer as much as an igniter. Having Trent so close to her, his legs pressed against hers, his torso right up against her back, brought every single nerve ending in her body to rapt attention. Feelings were going on inside of her that had absolutely no safe outlet. Laurel took in a deep breath, bracing herself. She did what she could to focus on the ride, desperately trying not to think about the man behind her. She would have been more successful if she’d just decided to stop breathing.
As the log inched its way through the inside of a cave, highlighting what the life of a miner must have been like a hundred and fifty years ago, Laurel closed her arms around Cody’s waist.
For once, she didn’t feel her son stiffening when she touched him.
Thank you, Trent!
The log sped up, going faster and faster as it dipped and rose, traveling down the e
ngineered rapids. And then suddenly they were back to inching along. But this time the log was going up and up, all within an expanse of semidarkness.
The creak of the mechanism’s chains only made the prospect of what was to come more nerve-racking. All around them, children squealed in anticipation. All but her child.
Their log arrived at the apex, its progress halted for a long split second. Laurel, in the middle, could feel the log teetering on the brink. And then, without warning, they were plunging down a steep decline, racing toward a man-made body of water below. Laurel felt her stomach rise up in her throat, felt Trent’s arms closing around her waist more tightly even as she tightened her own hold on Cody. All three of them were buckled down in their seats, but the feeling that any moment they could go flying out of the ride seemed like a very real possibility. She screamed to release her built-up tension. Her voice mingled with those of all the other riders. In front of her as well as directly behind her, they were doing the same thing. Screaming at the top of their lungs.
It took her less than an agitated heartbeat to realize that Cody was screaming, too.
She had to restrain herself from tightening her hold around his waist. If she squeezed him any harder, she would have cut off his air supply. Joy bounced erratically through her.
All right, Cody wasn’t talking—yet. But this was at least another, louder sound than he had been making. That was progress, right? It was to her.
Laurel didn’t even realize they’d gotten wet until the log had slowed down considerably and the mechanisms beneath it had pulled it up to the unloading zone. Trent hopped out first, then held out one hand to her and the other to Cody. There was no hesitation on Cody’s part. He took Trent’s hand and quickly clambered out of the log.
“Well, that was a lot more exciting than I remember it,” Trent commented, brushing the water droplets out of his hair. When he and Laurel had frequented this park, there had been fewer logs, but he hadn’t minded waiting. Hadn’t minded being anywhere as long as he was with her. Grinning, he turned his attention to Cody. “I feel like doing this a second time. How about it, Cody? Are you game? Do you want to do it again?”
Instead of answering, Cody was already hurrying to find the end of the line.
Trent gave Laurel an encouraging smile and winked. “Looks like we’re getting on that ride again.”
In total, they went on the ride another five times before, soaked, they decided it was time to test out another, drier ride. But not before Laurel stopped at the photography booth where she could purchase a print of the picture the camera perched overlooking the top of the flume had taken of them. The selection ranged from several different sizes of prints to a key chain. She bought a key chain and a five-by-seven print, wanting to press this moment between the pages of time.
“We’re both screaming,” Laurel said, studying the photograph as she walked away from the booth. She referred to Cody and her. “But you look as if you’re laughing.”
She looked at Trent. Most of the people in the other photos projected on a screen next to the booth were screaming, too. Which made him a loner. “Why?”
“Because I was having a good time,” he said simply. There’d been no bubble of tension within his chest. The only thing humming within was a sense of happiness. And that he didn’t want to release. He wanted to hang on to that feeling as long as possible.
“Okay, everyone set to hit the petting zoo?” he asked, once Laurel had tucked away the photo and her key chain. He thought he heard one of their stomachs rumble in protest. “Or would you guys like to stop to get something to eat first?”
“I could eat,” Laurel told him. Until he’d made the suggestion, she hadn’t realized just how hungry she’d become. She’d been too focused on Cody, too happy about his progress.
“And you?” Trent asked Cody.
Cody looked undecided whether to acknowledge the question. And then, just as Trent was about to turn away, the boy nodded his head.
“Lunch it is,” Trent declared in triumph. “Let’s go.” Again, taking the boy’s hand, he began to weave his way through the colorful, crowded streets. Bringing up the rear, Laurel noted with no small pleasure that Cody didn’t seem as if he wanted to pull his hand away from Trent’s. The man was a miracle worker, she thought. There was no other way to describe it. She would have never thought of coming here if Trent hadn’t suggested it. And now look, Cody had made another stride.
She hadn’t been wrong in seeking out Trent to ask for help. She just hoped that having him back in her life temporarily wouldn’t leave any permanent repercussions. Who was she kidding? It already had. But it was too late for regrets. What was done was done. She had to move forward. She had to think about Cody. The moment they reached the restaurant in the middle of the park, she recognized it. They had always come here during their past trips to the park. With effort, she shut away the memories. There was no point in reliving them. She knew how the story ended.
The restaurant, whose open kitchen looked like a chuck wagon with its cover pulled back and its wooden ribs exposed, was filling up quickly. They secured the last available table. Behind them, a line of waiting patrons started to form.
The waitress came by with three glasses of water and an order pad. Laurel had taken a quick glance at the menu. It hadn’t changed in eight years, although the prices had gone up accordingly. She placed her order. Trent was next, ordering a duplicate of hers.
Then he looked at Cody. “Your turn, champ.” Cody sat there, looking back at him.
“I can come back,” the waitress offered.
“No, this’ll just take another minute,” Trent assured her. Patiently, Trent held up a menu before the boy, flipping to the children’s page. “C’mon, Cody, I need a hint,”
he urged softly.
Pressing his small lips together, Cody scanned the menu before him, then pointed to an item.
Turning it so that he could see what had captured the boy’s attention, Trent read,
“Giant ribs.” The serving, he knew, was going to be half as big as Cody was tall. He did his best to keep his lips from twitching into a smile. Instead, he solemnly nodded his approval.
“Good choice,” he proclaimed. Closing the menu, he handed it to the waitress.
“Cody would like a serving of giant ribs.”
The young woman eyed the boy dubiously. “You sure?”
Trent made eye contact with Cody, then told the waitress, “He’s sure.”
She shook her head, but wrote down the order. “Okay.” And then she looked up, her pen still poised. “What kind of veggies?”
“French fries?” Trent asked Cody. Cody nodded.
He was good with the boy, Laurel thought, another pang squeezing her heart. Not for the first time she thought that if she had jumped over the hurdle that her fear had constructed and married Trent when he’d asked, Cody would have been their son. And he wouldn’t have been trapped in a car with his dead father. Everything would have turned out differently.
Noting the solemn, faraway look in Laurel’s eyes, after the waitress had departed, Trent leaned in and asked, “Something wrong?”
“No,” she answered, her eyes shifting from him to Cody. She forced a smile to her lips. “Something’s right. Very right.”
Trent knew better than to press.
“Are you really planning on carrying that doggie bag around for the duration of the day?” Laurel asked nearly an hour later, as they walked out of the restaurant. Both she and Trent had done justice to their meals and easily finished them. Cody’s lunch, however, was a different story. He’d consumed all his French fries, which, given the fact that he wasn’t a big eater, had taken up a lot of space inside his stomach. He had hardly eaten a quarter of his main course. Trent had asked the waitress to pack up the rest.
Trent looked down at the brown bag he held. One side had developed a greasy oval spot the size of a baseball.
“Hey, good ribs are good ribs,” he told her. Catching Co
dy’s eye, he winked, as if they shared a secret. “And you never know. We might get stranded on our way back home. These ribs could easily make the difference between life and death.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “If you say so, Trent.”
Their next stop was the petting zoo. The fenced-off enclosure was stocked with baby animals that ranged from rabbits, piglets and goats to a miniature Shetland pony. Children who met the age and height requirement were accompanied by their parents, who provided protection—whether for the children or the animals was a little unclear. They also purchased the pellets that the animals were allowed to eat.
Wanting Cody to be more than a passive observer, Laurel dug through her purse for the proper change. After locating coins, she inserted them into the dispenser, turned the metal knob and then cupped Cody’s hand beneath the mouth of the machine. Lifting the cover, tiny, unappetizing-looking beige pellets belched out of the dispenser’s mouth. Cody raised a quizzical eyebrow as he regarded the pellets.
He didn’t remember, she thought. “You feed those to the animals. That way, they’re easier to pet,” she encouraged. A goat wandered up, momentarily drawn to Cody’s bounty—but then another, far more tempting aroma caught his attention. In the blink of an eye, the baby goat, as well as several of his brethren and friends, closed in around Trent, surrounding him.
“I think you’ve got competition for those ribs,” she told Trent with a laugh.
Holding the bag aloft over his head, Trent began to inch his way over to the gate. The goats followed. He glanced back at Laurel.
“I think you might have something there,” Trent agreed.
Not about to be denied, and most likely sick of pellets, the goats became more aggressive. The ones closest to Trent gave chase. Speeding up, Trent made it to the gate and managed to close it behind him just in time. But not before the goat that had led the others in the pursuit of ribs managed to butt him.
Some of the other children watched and began to laugh.
As did Cody.
Laurel’s eyes met Trent’s. Hers were wide with excitement. Cody was laughing. She’d given up hope that she would hear that wonderful, infectious sound ever again. Trent placed a finger to his lips, indicating that she wasn’t to call attention to the change in Cody’s usual solemn demeanor. Laurel pressed her lips together. It wasn’t easy containing her excitement, or her delight, but she managed.
[Kate's Boys 03] - Mistletoe and Miracles Page 9
