by Sally John
Evidently more than their paths converged.
Out of breath now, Molly slowed. Her cuffs had unrolled and were damp from dragging in the wet sand. She pushed strands of hair fallen from her ponytail back behind her ears.
In truth, she hadn’t paid much attention to birth control over the past year. Everything pointed to her body shutting down. What with that and four busy children and divergent directions, there hadn’t seemed to be a need.
Was it the stress? The stress of turning forty and feeling unfulfilled and trying to fix that? She applied for nonexistent teaching positions in the children’s district. She considered applying at another school located an hour’s drive away. An hour’s drive when there was no fog, hurricane-force winds, or road work. Then Eli’s soccer career took off, Betsy broke an arm in gymnastics, and Abigail and Hannah got strep. Molly knew she did not have an extra two to three hours in a day to spend on the road. She settled for substitute teaching.
Meanwhile, convincing Scott how desperate she was for his attention occupied the rest of her energies. It should have been a no-brainer. As a pastor who counseled married couples, he should have been a little more in tune.
He came around, of course. He loved her, and he was a godly man. In time they reconnected.
Oh, yes. Indeed they reconnected!
“Lord!” She bent forward, hands on hips, and tried to catch her breath before a sob broke loose. Why?
I will be fifty-eight before this one graduates from high school. Fifty-eight!
She straightened and blew out a frustrated breath. She had to talk to Scott right now.
Maybe the test was wrong?
She pulled the cell phone from her pocket. Hands shaking, she flipped it open, and tried to remember her home number.
No, the church was more likely—
No, he was at his other job. Surveying up the Elk River. He was provided a cell phone for work, but it wouldn’t function from there.
“Curses on the Elk River! I wish it would dry up!”
She swallowed back another sob.
Maybe he hadn’t traveled too far yet. What time was it? What was his work number?
She heard a small voice coming from the cell and put it to her ear. “Scotty?”
“Scotty?” a male voice said. “Come on, sugar. I know I’m on your caller ID.”
“What? Who is this?”
“Char?”
“What?”
“Sorry. I must have the wrong number.”
As if emerging from a mental fog, she realized with sudden clarity that someone was calling Char. “No, you don’t have the wrong number. This is Char’s phone. But I’m Molly.”
“Molly! Hi!”
“Cam?”
“Nope. Todd.”
“Todd?” Char’s son wasn’t named Todd, was he?
“Friend. Char has spoken of you. Is she around?”
“Um.” She glanced at the ocean, as if it would produce the owner of the phone. A turn toward the boardwalk revealed that Molly was nowhere near the beach house and Char certainly was not in sight. “No.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
Back from where? The mental fog settled in again.“Nooo.”
“Well, don’t tell her I called, all right?” He chuckled. “I want to surprise her. I’ll just catch her later. Bye.”
“Bye.” Molly pushed the “End” button.
Who was Todd? Why was another man calling Char on her birthday?
Char’s birthday. They had plans. She should go back.
The sob finally erupted. Molly sank onto the sand, sitting at the water’s edge, facing the horizon, her back to the people jogging by. She propped her elbows on her bent knees and covered her face with her hands.
She was pregnant. Pregnant!
The tears were not going to stop any time soon.
Thirty
The roommates had not surfaced by the time Char finished dressing. Frustrated with the situation, she decided to take a walk herself and buy a newspaper. She slid some change into a pocket, sunglasses onto her nose, and thought about the boardwalk route to a vending machine. It would take her past numerous sardine-packed houses, a youth hostel, a motel, and countless interesting-looking people. If the previous two days were any indication, she would more than likely run into either Julian, the boor of a neighbor, or Zeke, an audacious, Bible-toting black man who probably struck up conversations with fence posts.
Char headed out the side door and down the street, a narrow one-way affair lined with garages, carports, and the backs of other small cottages. Half a block from theirs, she turned off it and onto one of the sidewalks that served as passageways from the beach to the business district. On either side of it sat tightly packed houses of all shapes and sizes, their front doors facing the center. The quiet area, profuse with plants, resembled a courtyard.
The walk took only a matter of moments. She reached the main street district, a traffic-filled boulevard and home to all kinds of trendy restaurants, beachy shops, and sports equipment rental places. She paused and scanned the area until she spotted a newspaper vending machine about three blocks away.
She strolled, not wanting to perspire, a given in the bright sunshine. A warm breeze blew against her face. A helicopter flew over, adding racket to the traffic noise.
Well, Molly had said turning forty could be hazardous to one’s health. Evidently her friends had reneged on their pledge to make hers different. As far as she could tell, hers equaled theirs in the disappointment category. What was she doing walking in a strange hot city all alone in search of a newspaper without her cell phone or car keys? With fun plans indefinitely delayed? At least at home she would have reminded the kids to tell Cam. Even without enthusiasm or an especially thoughtful gift, his response amounted to something. He never remembered the exact date itself without prompting; she hadn’t bothered to prompt anyone before she left. The kids would never think of it on their own. Would Kendra clue them in? Surely her friend had called by now and left a voice mail message.
She sighed. The only bright spot at the moment lay in Todd’s hint that he would send flowers. They could be there by the time she returned.
But then she would have to explain Todd to Molly, Andie, and Jo.
Oh, hang it all.
She comforted herself with thoughts of his attention. Even inappropriate, at least it was attention.
Twenty minutes later, newspaper in hand and still thinking of little else but Todd, Char approached her turn. Three uniformed policemen stood at the sidewalk’s corner. They were rather cute in their shorts and sunglasses, without hats. But she was in no mood to chitchat. She smiled tightly at the one who looked at her and attempted to sidestep him.
He blocked her path, his eyes hidden behind dark lenses. “Excuse me, ma’am. This way is closed.”
“But I’m staying in a house down there.”
“Sorry. You’ll have to find another route.”
“It’s not far.” She peered around him. “Just the other side—oh my word.” She spotted a fourth officer crouching beside a gate. “He has a gun.”
She didn’t know guns but it was obvious this particular one was not just any old pistol sort. It was long and huge with all kinds of attachments. A rifle?
“Ma’am, we’re in the middle of a situation here. For your own safety, please move on.”
“As I live and breathe, I am going to get shot on my birthday. What is going on?”
A voice came from behind her. “Nothing out of the ordinary for this neighborhood.”
She turned and saw Julian.
He grinned and looked over her head. “Right, Justin?”
The officer laughed.“Squatters, vagrants, druggies, thieves. We got ’em all. And that’s just for starters this morning.”
“Shh. You’re going to frighten our guest.” He nodded toward Char.
“Sorry, ma’am. Nothing to worry about. Have a good day, Julian.”
“Thanks. Stay saf
e. Shall we, Char?”
“Shall we what?”
“Move.”
“Oh.” Did she have a choice? “I suppose. But I’m sure I can find my own way.”
“Unfortunately, the police have the whole area surrounded. We can’t get to our houses from either the back way or the boardwalk.”
“You’re joking.” She walked beside him along the busy street, noticing his billowy white linen shirt, baggy brown slacks, and sandaled feet.
“Afraid not. This happens now and then. Did you notice the helicopter?” He pointed skyward.
“I guess I did hear one.” She peered up and saw it now. It banked, low enough for her to decipher “Police” printed in large bold letters on its underside.
“Always a clue. It’s been circling for a while. That cottage directly behind your carport seems to be precisely in the center.”
“Which means?”
“The thieving, vagrant squatter high on drugs was or is currently inside Sapphire’s home.”
“Who’s Sapphire?”
“A free spirit you wouldn’t have met. She’s down in Mexico this month.”
“And a vagrant is using her house?”
“That’s my guess. I’ll let you know when I get the full story.” He stopped.“How about breakfast?”
They had reached a corner restaurant with patio seating along the sidewalk.
“I never eat breakfast.” How to get rid of the annoying man? She glanced across the street. A shop displaying sandals in its windows was a possibility—No, it was obviously closed.
“Something to drink then.”
She looked further down the street. Hadn’t she seen a bathing suit store nearby?
“I won’t bite,” he added.
“I know.” The reply flowed automatically, though in all honesty, he gave her the heebie-jeebies. She hadn’t forgotten his insinuations that night on the beach when he talked to her after she’d been on the phone with Todd, making her feel she owed him an explanation of the private conversation.
“But,” she went on, “I’m sure you have better things to do than entertain me. I’ll be just fine. I can go, um…” She had turned nearly a full circle, studying the shops. The bike rental place was open. Not exactly her cup of tea…
“But it’s your birthday.”
She swung back to face him.
“I overheard you.” He smiled and pulled open the patio gate.“They have these great iced caramel chocolate whipped cream coffee drinks for birthday girls.”
He really did have a nice smile and gentle eyes. She really was too hot to continue hiking up and down the blasted street waiting for the cops and robbers to finish their silliness.
And it really was her birthday.
She flashed a smile. “Well, all right, sugar. Lead the way.”
Char removed her sunglasses and fanned herself with the menu. “Why is it so unbearably hot today?”
Across the table, Julian smiled. “Santa Ana. Feel the wind?”
“Yes.”
“Straight from the desert. Dry heat blows in, pushing the temperature above normal.” He looked back down at the menu.
They sat on the busy restaurant’s sidewalk patio. Located near an intersection and practically within reach of a traffic light pole, it was a noisy place.
He said, “They serve nice bagels here. Oh, but you said you don’t eat breakfast.”
“Well, if I’m going to have that luscious iced coffee you described—What was it? Caramel, chocolate, and whipped cream? I’d better have a bagel to take the edge off all that sugar and caffeine.” She replaced her sunglasses. “How long do you think we will have to wait before the perpetrator is apprehended?”
“It could take all day.” His face was deadpan.“Four o’clock, maybe.”
“Four o’clock! Why, they can’t possibly keep people out of their houses until four o’clock! Or in them, for that matter! We’re not prisoners! For goodness’ sake! It didn’t sound like they were after some armed guy with hostages! What kind of a crazy place is this?”
Julian’s eyes crinkled behind his glasses.“Santa Ana is hard on tempers.”
She sputtered. No words made it off her tongue.
“I am joking this time, Char. Thirty, forty minutes tops.”
A young waitress stepped to their table and greeted Julian by name. He also knew her name and chatted with her about her dog.
After ordering, Char said,“My word, do you know everyone?”
“It’s an outdoor community, paths always crossing.”
“How did you ever get from Scotland to here?”
“Jesus.”
“Hmm.” A Molly clone for sure.
His crows feet crinkled as his mouth curved lazily into an enigmatic nonsmile. “That’s the short version.”
Okay, she thought, I’ll bite. “We’re not going anywhere.” She tilted her head and smiled sweetly. “What’s the long version?”
“I grew up in Scotland. Work brought me to the States. I was in software. I designed what some considered to be a spectacular creation.” He shrugged. “By forty-five I’d had two heart attacks and lost my family. I sold out and moved here.”
“Oh my goodness. What happened to your family?”
“I was not a fun person or even all that nice. Business consumed me. I never blamed my wife for leaving. We’ve made our peace. She remarried; someone else raised my son and daughter. They’re grown now and visit occasionally.”
“How sad to miss out on their lives.”
“I was devastated, ready to check out. Permanently. I went so far as to purchase a gun. Then my neighbor Faith Fontaine and Zeke got hold of me, which is synonymous with Jesus getting hold of me. He let me crash and burn, the only way I’d turn to Him for help. And the rest, as they say…” He spread his hands. “Is history. Have you met Zeke yet?”
“Oh, yes.” Yes, indeed. And she wasn’t about to pursue any subject related to him! “What do you do now?”
“I keep on eye on Faith’s house and the guests. I work with Zeke.”
Zeke again. “But what do you do?”
“I live.”
Obviously the man was wealthy. He lived on the beach in Southern California in what she assumed had to be a multimillion-dollar home. She mustered up manners that had been scattered by the day’s events and decided not to pry further. “I see.”
He gave his little smile again.“You’re wondering how a beach bum can afford this. As I said, the software creation was considered spectacular.”
“Hmm. Well, good for you.” Definitely time to change the subject. “Speaking of spectacular, we had quite a day yesterday. For starters I watched three drug deals go down.”
“Here?”
“No. It was in some neighborhood Jo took us to. Jo’s the doctor, the single doctor.” She lifted her sunglasses just long enough to give him an exaggerated wink.“Remember? Anyway, we were at this clinic.” She went on to describe the events of the day, from her friend’s beautiful office to the gang members on the street to the baby’s birth to chicken potpie. “Let me tell you, that is not going to fit onto one postcard.”
“How is your family?”
“Just fine last I heard, which was yesterday when Savannah called to whine about her volleyball practice.”
“No birthday calls yet?”
How ironic that of all people on the face of the earth he would know the day simply because he overheard her mention it! “Molly has inadvertently taken off with my cell phone. I feel downright lost without it. I am far too attached to that thing.”
“Your husband must be frustrated, not being able to get a hold of you.”
She gave him her pert smile. Why pretend? “Honey, without me at home reminding Savannah so she can remind him, Cam has been glued to his patients since sunup with nary a single thought as to the date.”
“You didn’t remind her on the phone to tell him?”
“No. I’m on vacation.”
“When was th
e last time he remembered on his own?”
“Cole was two. He is now thirteen.” She shrugged. “Not that I’ve been counting.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sudden tears stung her eyes, and she turned toward the street, grateful for dark glasses hiding the inexplicable from this stranger.
“I think,” Julian spoke in a careful tone, “old Cam just needs some encouragement.”
“And what would you suggest?” Too late she heard a bitter note.
“Straight talk often works. Tell him how things like this hurt you.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Your marriage isn’t that big of a deal?”
“No, I meant forgetting my birthday. I always organize a dinner out with friends. We’ll do that when I get back. After all, I am the one who chose not to be home on this date.”
“You are worth it, Char. Worth the attention.”
Wanting to flee the conversation that seemed to be doing a number on her equilibrium, she pushed her chair from the table, a half-formed excuse on the tip of her tongue.
The waitress arrived just then, delivering bagels and iced coffees, one of which had a small pink birthday candle stuck into the thick whipped topping. “Happy birthday, ma’am. The candle was lit, but I think it’s hopeless in this wind.”
Char couldn’t help an inward sigh. Then, calling on a lifetime of ingrained propriety, she found her voice. “Oh my goodness. How did you—” She glanced at Julian and back at the girl. “I guess I don’t have to look too far. Thank you, sugar.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy.” She left.
Julian’s eyes crinkled again in his nonsmile, the corners of his mouth hardly lifting. “Happy birthday, Char.”
Not knowing how to civilly excuse herself, Char sipped the special coffee through a straw and tried not to think who had ordered it for her: a Jesus freak with penetrating eyes that were beginning to make her squirm.
The coffee was quite tasty, a pleasant surprise for such a dive of a restaurant. “Thank you. This was hardly necessary.”
