Dawn knew the signal well. The meeting was over, short and sweet. That was good, because the day was pressing in on her. As Marion and Jerrod said their goodbyes, Dawn realized she had no inclination to go back to work.
Just outside the library, Dawn pointed across the park-like lawn in front of the building to a wood-and-stone pillar a half block away. “Have you seen the World War I Memorial over there?”
“I walked by it and meant to stop, but you know how that is. No time that day,” Jerrod explained.
“Let’s go over there for a minute. I bet you’ll find it interesting.”
As they walked, Jerrod chatted enthusiastically about ideas for his talks and blog posts. Dawn’s mind wandered in and out. But when they stopped in front of the memorial she said, “I thought you’d be interested in this because our mutual acquaintance, Zeke Donovan, had a hand in restoring this.”
The pillar was stone, but the pedestal and the base were made of wood, and the circular metal top was gleaming in the afternoon sun, obscuring the names etched on it. Two benches sat side by side at the edge of the bricks surrounding the memorial.
“What did Zeke do in the restoration?” Jerrod ran his hand down the smooth stone.
“I don’t know Zeke well, but he and an architect put in a proposal to bring this memorial back to its original condition. Some people wanted to haul it away rather than fix it up. They wanted to put an engraved plaque on a boulder over by the other war memorials around City Hall.”
“You’re kidding? It looks like a lot of thought went into this memorial.”
Dawn pointed to the list of names. “These four men died in that war.” She moved around the pillar a few feet. “And these five men were injured.” She reached up and tapped one name. “See this one? James Loran. My mother’s great-uncle. He lost an arm and was badly burned. I didn’t know him, but I heard a lot about him. He and his wife ran a little candy store here in town.”
“I see. I’ll bet you were among those who wanted this restored in place, right here.”
“You got it,” she said, running her fingertips along the engraved name. “And I wasn’t alone.”
She turned to take in the park around her. “For such a small town, only 13,000 people today, it always surprises me to look at the memorials and see how many men—and women—went off to the many wars.”
“I didn’t realize your family has such a long history here. Interesting about Zeke, too.”
Jerrod asked if she had time for coffee at the Bean Grinder. “One of my favorite Two Moon Bay institutions.”
“And another of Zeke’s projects. He worked with the architect to restore the octagonal building, originally an old dance and music hall they used in the summer.”
On any other day, she’d have jumped at the offer, been eager to go. She repeated almost those identical words. “Normally, I’d like that, but I have a conference call in an hour. I really need to get home.”
Why had she lied? She had no answer, but she wouldn’t find one if she went out for coffee with Jerrod.
“No problem,” he said. “We can do it another time.”
“Soon.” She took a couple of steps toward the street to go back to retrieve her car. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
Jerrod walked off in the opposite direction and Dawn hurried to her car. Once inside, she gripped the top of the steering wheel and rested her forehead on her hands. What had come over her? The photographs in Jerrod’s office. Yes, they’d disturbed her. The unbearable sadness had thrown her off center. But then, minutes later, the news of new life on the way. Paul and Nancy having a baby. Their first.
Be grateful for Gordon. She shushed the little voice whispering that message. She didn’t need that reminder. She was overwhelmed with gratitude for her son sometimes. But did that mean it was wrong to want another family, another baby?
Dawn lifted her head and lowered her hands to start her car and buckle in. She’d soon be home and drop that heavy bag of business in her office and shut the door. She was eager to leave all those confusing emotions behind.
Chapter Seven
CARRIE PEEKED AROUND the doorjamb, but didn’t come all the way into the room.
“Hello, sweetie. Are you hiding?” Jerrod asked the question as he lined up his three neckties on the end of the bed.
“Nope. Just watchin’ you.” She moved into the doorway.
“You want to help me pick out a necktie?”
Carrie nodded and came into his bedroom holding Candy by its ear.
“So, what will it be? Red or blue? Or, how about this one, yellow-and-white-striped?”
Carrie put her finger to her lips and frowned in thought.
Oh, to be able to freeze the moment when his necktie choice was the most important issue on his little girl’s mind.
“I like the red one best, Daddy.”
“Well, then, that’s the one I’ll wear.” He’d been leaning toward the yellow-striped one, but what did it matter? He couldn’t recall the last time he’d worn a necktie, or a sports jacket, for that matter. Turning to the mirror, he knotted the tie and tugged it in place. He assumed his navy sports coat and khakis were right for the evening.
“Where are you going, Daddy?”
“Remember, I told you this morning I’m walking over to the bookstore. Dawn invited me to meet some people who wrote a book and lots of people are going to buy copies of it at the bookstore.” He deliberately avoided calling the book signing a party. That would sound like too much fun and Carrie would want to tag along.
“I like Dawn,” Carrie said, climbing up on the end of the bed.
So do I. He grabbed his jacket off the chair. “She’s very nice, huh? And she works hard, too.” That was a safe comment, and Carrie wouldn’t notice that he’d brought himself back to their business relationship. Where it needed to stay. “So, what do you think? Do I look okay?”
Carrie nodded. “Is Gordon coming to the bookstore?”
“No, honey, he’s spending time with his dad tonight.” He reached out to smooth her silky dark hair, the braids loose now at the end of the day. Jerrod understood the question about Gordon. Ever since the taco dinner, Carrie had asked about Dawn and Gordon frequently. The questions were tough on him, even though he knew all his daughter wanted was another chance to spend time with people she thought were their new friends. That’s what he’d called them.
She hugged her bear to her chest. “I don’t feel good.”
What? “What do you mean, honey?”
“My stomach feels weird.”
Her almost offhand remark about not feeling good was odd. Not something that happened often. Melody was there, so he could leave if he needed to, but backing out was okay, too. Even picking out his tie he felt like a nervous teenager getting ready for a date. And that was wrong in so many ways. It wasn’t only about mixing business and pleasure. That was the simple explanation. More like an excuse, he thought.
“When did you start feeling sick?” he asked, putting his hand on Carrie’s forehead. It felt cool.
“This afternoon,” she said.
“Did you eat dinner?” He lifted his hand and put it on her forehead again. Maybe it was a little warm. Worried now, he didn’t trust himself to judge.
“A little. Melody made macaroni and cheese. Wyatt and Rob ate some, too.”
Why hadn’t he been there for dinner? Saying he had to work on his library presentation, he’d stayed behind, snacking on crackers and cheese in his office. The people who were the closest he had to a family were eating together and he was alone. He’d have to analyze that later. “Wait here, sweetie. I’m going to go talk to Melody.”
“She’s in the kitchen,” Carrie said.
He went down the hall to the kitchen, where Melody was wiping down the counter. “Did Carrie tell you she didn’t feel well?”
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br /> Frowning, she said, “No. We just got back from the other house. I brought mac n’ cheese over there, and they made salad. Carrie seemed fine then.”
“She said she wasn’t feeling good. That her stomach felt weird, her word.” He looked back down the hall to his room. Something didn’t seem right.
“Well, she’ll be with me,” Melody said. “She doesn’t get sick much, but I can take care of her if she does. You won’t be far away.”
“I know. I’m not worried about that.” What was he worried about? Being gone and him needing her. “I think it’s because she’s not sick very often that I’m concerned.”
He made a fast decision. “I’m going to cancel. I’ll call Dawn now.”
Her expression quizzical, Melody said, “Jerrod, really, you don’t have to do that.”
He smiled at the woman he’d completely trusted for two years. “I know she’d be fine with you, but this is something I need to do.” He didn’t say it out loud, but he left too much of this kind of care to Melody. Yes, she was Carrie’s nanny, but he was her father. “I need to know I can.”
He went back to the bedroom to get his phone and check on Carrie. She had stretched out on the bed on her side using Candy as a pillow. Her eyes were closed. No bigger than a minute, he thought, the old expression Augusta used coming back to him, seeing his tiny girl on the big queen-size bed in his room. He knew Carrie sometimes went up to Melody’s room on the second floor and climbed into bed with her early in the morning. It was a game they played, with Carrie pretending she had to drag Melody out of bed.
He called Dawn and left an apologetic voice mail, but followed up with a text just to be sure to reach her. It was an important evening for Dawn, not only because of her clients’ success, but because she’d planned to introduce him to people she believed should be in his network. He scoffed to himself. She hadn’t said these people could be his friends, just in his network. He admired her professionalism, most of the time, but it could grate on him now and then, too. Like now.
He also couldn’t deny his curiosity about what happened with her husband. Why didn’t she have what she wanted? She hadn’t offered an explanation and he hadn’t asked. But he’d bet it was a painful chapter.
* * *
DAWN LIKED HAVING had a reason to be in downtown Two Moon Bay at night. There was a different atmosphere when most of the retail stores were closed but the Half Moon Café and the ice cream and fudge shop and the diner at the end of the block stayed open. Starting in June, the Book Shelf kept evening hours, too, and the Half Moon Café hung strings of white lights around the outdoor patio in the back and stayed open way past midnight.
She could have headed home, but she didn’t feel like calling it a night just yet. She stood by her car, trying to decide where she wanted to go. She knew, of course. She wanted to see Jerrod. But she kept trying to banish that thought. On the other hand, it wouldn’t hurt to call him to see how Carrie was doing. Right? She could wait until morning, but there was no reason to put off a friendly call. Besides, the book signing hadn’t been much fun without Jerrod. In her mind, it was much more of a social occasion than linked to her clients. Oh, quit the big debate, she scolded. She took her phone out of her jacket pocket and made the call.
“Are the festivities over?” he asked, bypassing a regular greeting.
“Yes, they are. I’m getting ready to go home, but I thought I’d call you first and see how it’s going with Carrie?”
“Everything seems okay now,” he said. “She’s sleeping.”
“Do you need anything? Soda crackers, ginger ale?” She waited for the answer.
“Well, now that you mention it, we could use some ginger ale. I already hunted up crackers for her.”
That took her by surprise. A pleasant one. How strange the needs of an ill child meant her evening wasn’t coming to an end after all. But wanting to see Jerrod had nothing to do with business.
“See you in a few minutes,” she said.
* * *
HE STOOD ON the porch and watched her pull in behind his van.
“I always like seeing your van,” she said, coming up the walk. “Somehow, the tropical aqua and yellow fish and the deep blue lettering brighten up the atmosphere.”
“It looks a little like a fish out of water,” he said, groaning at his own pun.
“Not bad, Captain Jerrod, not bad.”
Her words and inflection sounded a lot like flirting. He admitted he’d invited her with the ruse of needing ginger ale. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t deny his desire to know more about this intriguing, endlessly entertaining woman with her halo of curly hair and eyes that changed color so easily.
“Come on inside.”
“Is Carrie in bed?” she asked, her voice low.
“She’s asleep on the couch in the living room. For the moment, she’s out like a light. I’ll carry her to her bed later.”
“So, how sick is she?”
“Well, she doesn’t seem to have a stomach virus, but she had a little bit of a fever, 99.5 and 99. She munched on crackers and Melody gave her some sparkling water. Fizzy water, she calls it.”
Jerrod stared down at Carrie, so peaceful now in sleep. He hadn’t said anything to Melody, but he didn’t think Carrie had been sick, so much as a little anxious in a quiet way.
“She looks so peaceful,” Dawn said. “She’s not pale. She’s sleeping soundly. Kids spike fevers and fight off whatever bug they catch. A few hours later they can be good as new. I guess you’ll have to wait and see what happens in the morning.”
“I’m supplied with plenty of ginger ale,” he said, grabbing a couple of glasses and filling them with ice. He handed them to her and he picked up a bottle of the soda and jar of nuts. “Let’s go out to the front porch. We can hear Carrie from there if she wakes up. You can tell me all about the signing.”
“Look at the sky tonight,” she said, following him to the porch. She put the glasses down and pointed between the high oak trees where a few stars shone through on the clear, but moonless night. They settled in the two chairs with a table between them.
He sat across from her and tilted his head back. “Too much ambient light to see many stars, but for all my time on the water, I can’t identify many constellations. The Big Dipper is about it.”
“Lark’s son, Evan, could identify them, and probably Gordon, too. He got his interest in astronomy from Evan. So, we’ll have the two buddies, one a marine biologist, the other an astronomer.”
She took a long gulp from the glass. “In only a week or two you won’t be more or less alone down on the docks. People on sailboats and motor yachts will be having drinks and inviting each other over to their boats for parties. A resort atmosphere takes over. Some die-hards in town don’t like the extra people, the traffic, crowded restaurants and everything else that goes with what’s becoming a little more upscale tourism. They like the old fishing town atmosphere.”
“But right now, the street seems dark and deserted,” he said. “I like these warm early summer nights.”
Dawn took another sip of her ginger ale. “Enjoy them, because they don’t last long.”
“Yes,” he said, and left it at that. He could say that about a lot of things. Carrie’s innocence and sense of wonder, for one thing. How much longer would that last? He’d missed too much of it already, not because he wasn’t present in body, but because he wasn’t paying close enough attention. As much as he’d looked forward to an evening with Dawn, he’d made the right decision to stay home with Carrie. There was a time he’d have left her in Melody’s hands. She’d have been fine, but he’d have missed the chance, no matter how short, of comforting his little girl, stroking her forehead and reading stories about talking bears. That would have been his loss.
“Gordon is getting eager to go up to his grandparents’ cottage on Redwing Lake,”
Dawn said, breaking their silence. “I always thought Gordon would be a fun big brother.”
Jerrod frowned. Didn’t Gordon have a baby sister?
“That came out wrong.” Dawn swatted the air as if trying to make her words disappear. “Forget I said it.”
He mumbled something about her family not being any of his business. But it sounded the wrong note and he shifted in the chair, wishing he could take back his words, too.
“I guess I walked right into this kind of awkward conversation,” she said. “You’ve never asked, but what happened to my marriage isn’t some dark secret. I’d just as soon you hear it from me and not in some gossipy way. My husband fell in love with someone else.” She looked out at the street, not at him. “Bill left me to be with her, Carla.”
In the dim light, he couldn’t see her features, but he could guess they matched her soft tone. “I don’t know what to say. I’m just sorry you were hurt.”
She tilted her head and cupped her chin as if she were mulling something over. “Until it actually happened, I’d always imagined myself a warrior woman, sword in hand fighting for my marriage. No matter what. But then, when it actually happened, I realized righteous fury was futile.” With a shrug she added, “Back here in the real world, Bill managed to make it work with Gordon.”
Jerrod knew where he stood on that score. “I’d guess you had a strong hand in that. Sword or no sword.”
She flashed a closed-mouth smile. “Thanks for that. Holding it together for Gordon was my biggest challenge during those first dreary months.” After only a second of hesitation, she said, “I wasn’t all that perfect at being evenhanded. I tended to grumble to other people, not my son. But no matter how heartbroken I was, I kept my eyes on the ball, Gordon.”
Carrie was all that mattered, too, but especially at the beginning, he’d allowed others to step in and take care of her. Even Wyatt and Rob had picked up his slack. He’d changed that, though, little by little. Carrie was the only child he’d have and he’d needed to be worthy of her.
Something to Treasure Page 10
