“I didn’t know what you like for breakfast, or what she can eat, but I’ve got lots of cereal and some frozen waffles. Maybe those aren’t the best for her.” He stared at French Fry, concern all over his face.
“Have you got any Cocoa Puffs?”
“Cocoa Puffs?”
He stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language, and from the looks of all the sugarless cereals he had lined up on the counter, he would never think of buying any Cocoa Puffs.
Sunny shrugged. “They’re her favorite, but she might eat waffles.”
He fixed waffles, then watched her feed French Fry. He kept reaching over, offering her a paper towel to wipe the baby’s hands and continually mopping the sticky syrup off the table, which was both frustrating and endearing.
More than anything, she wanted him to become acquainted with Alice, so she offered, “Will you hold her while I eat?”
“Sure.” Though he instantly agreed, his tone sounded hesitant.
She handed the baby over, and after a couple of awkward moments, he started to bounce French Fry on his knee, pretending to understand her gibberish.
Sunny fixed herself a bowl of his dry-as-dust natural rice puffs. She sat down at the table, and when she looked over at him, Ty was watching her as if he’d never seen anyone eat before.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he said softly.
She looked down at the puffs floating in skim milk, pushed a few under with her spoon, and watched them rise to the surface again.
“Yeah. Me, either.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Consider this your home.”
She was afraid for a minute that she was going to cry. He seemed like a good guy and sounded like he really meant it. She wondered if he’d be so eager to have her here if he knew everything about her.
Finally she managed to whisper, “Thanks.”
“So what made you change your mind and come up here?”
What would he think if she told him she was desperate? That she was afraid her life back in L.A. was about to take a turn for the worse and that she didn’t want Alice involved? That she’d do anything she had to in order to keep Alice safe?
She swallowed, thought about it for another second, and hoping to avoid having to answer all kinds of questions, she said, “I was kinda shocked when you showed up out of the blue like that. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get to know you, to give you a chance to know Alice.”
He studied her carefully until Alice reached for a spoon and started banging it on the table. Gently he pried it out of her hand and passed her a paper napkin instead. She immediately shoved the napkin into her mouth.
Sunny took the napkin away and handed Alice an empty plastic cup.
“What did you do in L.A.?” He was jiggling the baby on his knee again. “Aside from taking care of Alice,” he added.
She hesitated. “Nothing really.” Uncomfortable with where the conversation might be headed, she changed the subject. “How’d you find me, anyway?” She put the last bite of cereal in her mouth.
“I hired Kat. She’s a private investigator.”
Sunny almost choked on her rice puffs.
A P.I.? She wondered exactly how much Kat Vargas had found out about her. She was pretty sure her own record was still clean, but Jamie had racked up a few misdemeanors. Obviously whatever Chandler knew hadn’t soured him to the idea of inviting her into his life.
Apparently, he hadn’t noticed that she’d fallen silent. He continued to bounce Alice on his knee.
“We found your name on the welfare rolls,” he admitted.
Again, she felt her cheeks heat up. All the cash she made racing wasn’t traceable, so it had been easy to qualify for welfare. It wasn’t much money compared to what she made street racing, but these days she needed all the money she could get.
Chandler shifted and stood Alice on his thighs. “You’re going to need some diapers for the baby, some clothes and things while you’re here.”
He sounded so hopeful that she didn’t want to burst his bubble by telling him she wasn’t sure exactly how long she’d be around. Sooner or later she had to go back to L.A. She wasn’t sure about anything right now. Not him, not the situation here or the one back in Hollywood.
“I didn’t have a chance to pack. I left kinda sudden.”
Alice started squirming to get down but he had a firm grip on her. “Are you in some kind of trouble, Sunny?”
“No.” She shook her head. So far it was the truth. She wasn’t in real trouble. Not yet anyway. “I . . . I just didn’t want any of my roommates to start asking a lot of questions or to talk me out of leaving. We’ve been together a long time.”
“Since River Ridge?”
“Yeah.” She glanced around the kitchen. Thinking about the others back in Hollywood made her gut twist. Without her they wouldn’t be bringing in half as much on race nights. The least she could do was take back all she could save.
“I’d like to get a job right away,” she said suddenly. “You know of any?”
“What about school? Have you graduated from high school? If so, you could live here and go to college. Or you can get your GED.”
Go to school? He had to be freaking kidding. She’d been in public schools a total of three years and they’d been a joke.
“I’d rather work,” she hedged.
“You’ll need time to settle in.”
She didn’t need time, she needed cash, but she doubted she’d make very much in a town like Twilight Cove. She tried to imagine working nine to five, flipping burgers, or dipping ice cream for five bucks an hour, and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe she should have thought things through before she left L.A. But she was here now, and for the time being she had to make the best of it.
Her life had never even been close to a Happy Days rerun, and it was way too late to dream of that for herself now. She was flat broke, and although Ty Chandler sounded like he was willing to take them in on a permanent basis, she didn’t know him well enough to commit to anything. Besides, she had commitments of her own back in L.A.
It was nice sitting in the cozy kitchen, surrounded by so many old things, comfortable things. Each and every one of them had probably meant something to whoever picked them out a long time ago. She wondered how many Chandlers had lived in the old house, amazed to think that they had been related to her.
Then she wondered if her mother had ever been here as a girl. How long had Chandler known her mom?
She tried to imagine her mom as a teenager, hoping that for some part of Amy’s life she was not only drug-free, but happy.
“Do you have any pictures of my mom?”
He stopped jiggling French Fry and stared at her. “Pictures?”
“You know. From when you two were together?”
He looked thoughtful and then said, “Maybe. Come to think of it, there was a box full of old photos someplace around here. I’ll look for them.”
She nodded, knowing already that he was the type who wouldn’t forget.
The sound of the sea soothed her deep down inside, surprising her. Oddly enough, she felt content here already, and yet, even as she savored the moment, she reminded herself that she couldn’t turn her back on the situation in L.A.
This wasn’t the real world, not hers anyway, but it might be a perfect place for French Fry.
While Chandler amused Alice, Sunny washed the dishes. Then he asked if she wanted to take a walk around outside, to go see the garden and the beach. She would have liked that, but she turned him down, telling him that he was welcome to take Alice out if he’d like.
The sooner he bonded with the baby, the better, but he looked uncertain. “Will she go with me?”
&nbs
p; Sunny looked at the way French Fry was nestled against Chandler’s chest, twisting a button on his shirt. “She’ll go. Just make sure she doesn’t fall when you put her down. Sometimes she gets going too fast and takes a header.”
“I appreciate you trusting me.”
“Is there some reason I shouldn’t? You’re not some pervert, are you?” She meant it as a joke, but from the look on his face, he obviously didn’t think it was very funny.
“Why do you call her French Fry?”
“When she was born, her legs were so skinny that Dodge thought they looked like two little fries hanging out of her diaper. Everybody calls her French Fry now.”
“Dodge?”
“Her dad.”
“Does he still see her?”
“No.” Sunny didn’t want him thinking ill of Dodge. “But you didn’t see me for nineteen years, either.”
“I tried to explain the circumstances.”
“Right. And there are circumstances in this case, too.” Her eyes suddenly flooded with tears, and as she quickly swiped them away with the back of her hand, she said, “He’s . . . he’s dead, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Saying little was easier than going into everything that had gone wrong.
“I’m sorry, Sunny.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” She got up to pour herself another cup of black coffee and stared, looking for a sugar bowl but didn’t see one. Chandler picked up Alice and said that he was going to take her for a walk outside.
Sunny took her coffee into the living room to hang out on the sofa. An hour later, she still hadn’t moved. It was the most relaxing morning she’d had in months.
At first it was actually hard to loaf, but eventually she was able to lounge on the sofa like a total slacker, flipping the TV channels, watching whatever she wanted without Jamie or Butch grabbing the remote. Leaf never bothered her. He was a pushover, like Callie.
She reached for the remote again, noticed that a wet ring had formed on the Outdoor Trails magazine beneath her cold coffee mug. She pressed the remote and watched the channel logos at the bottom of the screen flick by: ESPN, HGTV, SCIFI, DIS, HBO, HBO2, HLN, EYEWITNESS NEWS.
She stopped to watch a breaking news story filmed from a news chopper high over a major freeway—a car chase in progress—held her breath until she remembered this was a local channel, not a broadcast from L.A., then started to breathe again.
Flipping to Cartoon Network, she glanced out the front window and watched as Ty walked French Fry around the wildflower garden.
He seemed perfectly content to stop at every flower and let the baby touch and smell them. He shortened his steps to match hers, took her hand when she teetered, squatted so that he could talk to her at eye level.
Sunny could tell by the way French Fry gazed up at Chandler that she already adored him. The kid loved all the guys—Jamie, Butch, Leaf, and the others—even though none of them ever doted on her the way Dodge had. Jamie had no time for her. Butch and Leaf would play with her for a while but soon got tired of her cute baby tricks.
Callie was the only one who truly loved French Fry enough to help care for her night and day, the only one besides Dodge that she’d ever really trusted the baby with—until now.
She hoped Callie was getting along all right. She hated leaving her behind with the guys, but she knew they’d look after her. There was just no way in hell she’d wanted to show up at Chandler’s door with both French Fry and Callie in tow.
She glanced outside again, watched as Ty lifted French Fry up onto his shoulders. It was pretty clear he was already getting hooked on the kid.
Good. Good for French Fry.
She fought off an intense wave of sadness, reminding herself as she watched Ty carefully center the kid on his shoulders that this was exactly what she had hoped for. Every time the sound of French Fry’s sweet baby giggle floated in through the window, it was followed by Ty’s deep, masculine laugh.
What would it have been like to grow up here, in this funky beach house, with a real dad? Without a mom who was stoned twenty-four hours a day?
Her mom had slept with everyone, everyone at River Ridge. Everybody thought the place was some kind of a New Age religious retreat and rehab facility, but that was just a front for what really went on. It was about drugs and sex. And money.
They used to act like one big happy family—but drugs, alcohol, and the threat of getting busted can do funny things to your mind, not to mention your nerves. It wasn’t all bliss behind the big wooden gates of the private estate high above L.A.
She had no idea what it would be like to have a dad and a mom all to herself, but she wanted things to be better for French Fry.
In a few minutes she got hooked on a Turner Classic showing of Jane Fonda and Robert Redford in Barefoot in the Park. Some old guy with an accent was wearing a silk scarf and getting everyone drunk on ouzo when Chandler walked through the front door.
When she looked up into French Fry’s smiling face, she saw Dodge’s eyes looking back. She wanted to scoop her up and hug her, love and kiss her, inhale the precious baby scent and feel her soft skin. She longed to tell French Fry that this was all going to work out for the best, but her eyes betrayed her and stung with tears. She turned back to the television until she was in control.
She loved Alice. She really, really did. She loved Alice way more than her own mom had ever loved her. She loved Alice enough to want a perfect world for her.
But, damn it, she was only nineteen herself.
Life wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
TY STOPPED BESIDE the sofa where Sunny had stretched out, her long, bare legs crossed at the ankles, her hands stacked beneath her head as she lay there engrossed in an old film.
She seemed like a miracle to him, a combination of Amy and him rolled into one. There was so much he didn’t know about her life, so much he wanted to know, but he refused to bombard her with questions. He wanted to savor every minute, to let things happen gradually.
She looked away from the television and smiled up at them. Alice leaned over his arm, stretching her hands out toward Sunny.
“I hope you have some diapers left.” He held Alice out at arm’s length. His nose wrinkled at the smell of a soiled diaper.
“Stinky, huh?”
“Right.”
“I guess you don’t want to volunteer to change her.”
He shook his head. “I think that’s something I’ll have to work up to, but I’ll watch.”
He stepped aside as his daughter—he was amazed every time he thought of Sunny as his daughter—gracefully got off the sofa and headed for the stairs.
He followed her up to the small guest room at the front of the house where he’d set up the crib he found in the attic last night. The room wasn’t spacious, but it was light and airy. There was an old dresser painted mint-green that they could share.
Sunny was swift and efficient as she changed Alice’s diaper. He noticed there were only a handful left in the big vinyl bag she’d been toting when she arrived. He made a mental note to drive them into Twilight to pick up some necessities. It was quickly becoming apparent that taking care of a toddler was a round-the-clock job.
“Who was the girl feeding Alice the day I was there?” He’d taken it for granted the other girl was the baby’s mother.
“That was Callie.” She made certain the tabs on the diaper were tight and then lifted Alice to her shoulder. “She was a runaway. One of the guys found her on the street and brought her home. I don’t actually remember if it was Butch or Leaf.”
What kind of a world is it, he wondered, where kids are left on the streets to be picked up and taken in like lost kittens or puppies? He shuddered to think of what Sunny might have already endured in her young life.
“What now?” He watched her redress Alice in her
overalls.
“She’s due for a nap.”
“I’ll run into Twilight for some diapers later.”
A sudden, awkward silence filled the small room.
“I’ve only got five dollars left.” Sunny spoke so softly that he could tell she was ashamed, but she didn’t flinch or look away.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t mention it. The way I see it, I owe you for nineteen missing years.”
“I don’t want you thinking that you owe me anything.” She shifted Alice to her shoulder again. At the small window overlooking the ocean, the simple white cotton cafe curtains his grandmother had made billowed and luffed in the breeze.
“All I meant was that I want to help in any way I can.”
It was a moment before she gave him a slow half smile and said, “Okay.”
In that brief second he saw something in her eyes that told him she wanted to believe him, but experience had taught her to be wary, or worse, not to hope at all.
As Sunny turned and walked out of the room, Alice smiled at him over Sunny’s shoulder. His heart had never felt so full.
TY LEFT SUNNY sitting on the floor with Alice lying on an old quilt his great-grandmother had made. The toddler was chewing on the skunk’s tail, fighting to keep her eyes open.
He walked out the front door, down the uneven flagstone walk, and kept going until he came to the edge of the bluff. He paused at the top of the stairway to the cove and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
The morning was long gone, the hours flown, but not a moment had passed that he hadn’t thought of Kat and wanted to talk to her.
As he waited for the call to connect, he scanned the ocean and the sky. It was a perfect day for fishing. Clear, no wind, not a cloud in the sky, but he wouldn’t be going anywhere near his boat for a while.
He paced the edge of the bluff, and when Kat didn’t answer, he left a message and then tried her cell. Again, she didn’t pick up, so he dialed R.J., who answered on the second ring.
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