“I know,” he said with a smile and a squeeze of the hands he still held. “You’re probably thinking that I tried that before, and I did. I got married and hoped to start a family, but I didn’t have my head on straight. I didn’t know what I wanted. Didn’t know how to choose. I’ve learned a lot in the past year and a half since Michelle and I split.”
Her mouth was bone-dry. She couldn’t have spoken if someone had held a gun to her head.
“Erica,” he said, “what would you think about taking our relationship deeper?” He put up a hand. “I don’t mean physically. I mean thinking about whether we could make a go of it...together.”
She bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. What kind of a dream come true was this? For a wonderful man like Trey to want her, to say he’d chosen her... She couldn’t speak, couldn’t break the illusion that this was real and it was for her.
“I know it’s early times,” he said. “But I want to take this further. To explore the possibilities with you.”
Yes! Yes, I want that, too.
But she couldn’t have it. Not now, not ever.
A new sense of all she was losing flooded her. Not just her inability to have kids; that was awful enough, but she’d dealt with it, figured it out with her therapist. In teaching, she’d found a way to connect with young people that, while it wasn’t anything like being a parent, still offered solace and helped fill the hole in her heart.
But this, the loss of a good man because he wanted to be a father—and what an awesome desire that was!—and a man who wanted to do that with her... That was a fresh, sharp pain.
He was looking at her with all the tenderness in the world, and she had to protect her heart. Being with Trey wouldn’t work in the end, especially since she couldn’t bear his children. And it was all well and good to think about adoption, but the fact remained that she was an unlikely candidate.
“I can’t,” she forced out.
“Uh-uh.” He leaned closer, studying her face. “You backed off before. Why? What’s wrong? Is it something about me?”
She studied his blue eyes, knowing they wouldn’t look at her with this caring for much longer. Because Trey was sensitive, beneath the macho exterior. She’d figured that out.
Maybe she could say it without hurting him. She cleared her throat. “It’s me, Trey. I can’t be what you need.”
He scooted back a little, his eyes cooling, and even though she’d been expecting it, the change hurt. “It’s not you, it’s me?” he asked. “That’s a pretty old line.”
So maybe he wasn’t going to take it well. Best to get it all out at once. “And...I won’t be having kids.”
“No kids,” he said, his voice curiously flat. He looked out the window, where the bay was barely visible through the sheets of rain. Then he looked back at her, studied her face for a moment and then said the most devastating thing he could say: “That’s a deal breaker for me.”
Her stomach tightened and quick tears rushed to her eyes. She realized how much she’d been hoping he would understand. “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lip hard to keep from crying. When she could speak without her voice shaking, she added, “It’s complicated, the reason why.”
“Sure it is. It always is.” He looked around and gestured to their waiter, obviously wanting to go.
He didn’t get it. But did that matter? Her revelation had obviously closed a door between them.
The restaurant staff stood conferring in a group, and now their waiter and another man came over to the table. “I’m sorry, but we’re closing,” he said, handing Trey the check. “Gale-force winds. We’re getting that tropical storm after all, at least the edges of it. It took a turn.”
“Here in Pleasant Shores? It’s here?”
“I’m afraid so. We’re boarding up the windows and heading home, all of us.” And indeed, even as he spoke, a cook and a busboy closed hurricane shutters across the large plate-glass windows.
Trey counted bills off a big wad, and Erica stood and grabbed her purse. “I have to get to Amber and Hannah,” she said. “They don’t know what to do, and Amber can’t...” The thought of her heavily medicated sister trying to manage in a bad storm made her stomach clench. “Hurry, Trey.”
“Here,” he said, thrusting the money into the waiter’s hands. “Keep the change. Come on,” he added to Erica, and strode out toward the truck.
It was hard to even push open the door of the restaurant, and outside, the wind raged. Panic had her gasping for air as she tried to protect her face and head from the blowing objects.
“Careful,” he said, putting an arm around her and guiding her across the parking lot. “We’ll get there.”
It was crazy that even with what had happened between them, even with the storm, she still liked his touch. Which made it even harder to do the right thing and push him away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TREY DROVE THROUGH the storm. No matter how wild and rough it was outside, it couldn’t match the turmoil in his heart.
What was wrong with him?
He was surprised and he shouldn’t have been. Giving in to his impulses never worked. Why had he expected that Erica would fall into his arms just for the asking?
Because of how she was looking at him, maybe? Because of her response to his touch, her warm conversation, her apparent joy at being with him? The romance of the setting had helped, too, pushed him into declaring himself earlier than he’d planned.
But better to know now that she didn’t want him, not seriously and long-term, and didn’t want the kind of life he did. He was surprised, but then, he’d been surprised about his wife, too.
He was a rotten judge of women, that was all.
“Look out!” she cried, and he swerved to avoid a fallen tree limb. There were electrical wires down, too, a couple of them sparking. He saw a bedraggled group of kids standing too close to one such wire and hit the brakes, but a woman in a slicker reached them before he could and shepherded them away.
Erica was punching numbers into her phone. But from her frustrated sigh, he guessed that there was no response. “Cell service could be out,” he said so her mind wouldn’t go to a worse place, a place where Amber and Hannah were hurt.
Then again, why did he care where her mind was when it had so definitely rejected him?
Of course, he did care. He glanced over and saw the wrinkles across her forehead, the shaking of her hands. “Amber’s sensible,” he said. “She’s not going to go out in this.”
“Normally, yeah, but she’s on those painkillers,” she said. “Come on, Hannah. Why aren’t you answering?”
“Try Julie,” he suggested.
She punched into her phone. “A text got through!” she cried, but then, as she waited, it was apparent that there was no answer back. Undoubtedly, they were up to their ears in worried hotel guests needing reassurance. So far, it didn’t look like any structures were down, but there were tree limbs and shingles aplenty.
“I’m so worried,” she said, leaning forward, hands on knees, peering through the rain-pelted windshield. “Can you drive any faster?”
“Not without putting us at risk,” he said tersely as the truck plowed through a midroad river, eight or ten inches deep. Truthfully, he welcomed the focus, the chance to help people. It was what he did best, and it might chase away the pain in his heart. He’d drop Erica off and then see what else he could do. The police and fire departments had to be swamped.
When they got closer to the cottages, though, that plan changed because the road was entirely underwater and live wires were thick on the ground. The wind shrieked, and he had to yell over it. “We can’t drive any farther!” he yelled to Erica. “Stay there. I’ll come around!”
She didn’t listen, of course. By the time he’d made his way around the truck to her side, she had the door open and was clinging to the j
amb with both hands, her face wet in the rain, hair soaked and blown back.
Was it sick that he wanted to kiss her?
Yes, for sure. He was one sick dude.
“Hold on to my arm,” he ordered, “and keep your head down.” And they fought their way through the wind and rain. Once, a child’s wagon flew in front of them, and he jerked Erica out of its path just in time.
If this wasn’t a hurricane, it was about as close as you could get. He’d never seen worse.
As they reached Erica’s cottage, he could hear King howling next door. Not because he was scared, most likely, but because he wanted to be out with Trey, working and helping. “Get you in a minute, bud,” he muttered as they climbed the steps to Erica’s cottage.
Funny, he didn’t hear Ziggy. If any dog would be freaking out in the storm, he’d have expected it to be the giant, goofy goldendoodle.
The awning of the cottage hung down precariously, swinging back and forth in the wind. Trey grabbed it and held it safely away from Erica while she forced the door open.
“Hannah?” came a rough voice from inside. Amber.
“It’s me, honey. Are you okay?” Erica ran to her sister.
Amber leaned against the wall, wearing flannels and a T-shirt, huge circles beneath her eyes. “I’m fine. Waiting for Hannah to come back.”
Trey’s heart sank. “Where did she go?”
Amber shook her head, rapid little movements as if she were trying to shake the cobwebs off. “I think she went out after Ziggy. She wasn’t supposed to be gone long.”
“She just left you here?” Erica asked.
Amber waved her hand. “I’m fine. Ziggy, though...” She put her back against the wall and slid down to the floor, knees upraised. “Ziggy went nuts. And Hannah opened the door to see what was going on and he ran out. I told her to go get him, that I was fine.” She frowned. “But it’s been too long. I don’t know where she is.”
Trey thought of the flying wagon, the blowing awning, the pools of water. His gut tightened. “We’ll find her,” he promised Amber.
“I’ll come, too.” She tried to push herself to her feet and then stumbled back down, barely catching herself on her arm. “Wretched pain pills.”
Erica hurried to help her, easing her into a chair. Amber’s frustration was palpable, and Trey knelt in front of her. “Do you have something Hannah wore recently? It wouldn’t hurt to have King sniff it.” King wasn’t highly trained in search and rescue, but he had a good nose and was smart.
“Just take him up to her bedroom.” Amber laughed shakily. “I’m sure there are clothes all over the floor.”
So Trey ran next door and brought King back to the women’s cottage.
“Top of the stairs, first door on the left,” Erica directed, and he and King trotted up.
“Get something of Ziggy’s for him to sniff, too,” Trey called over his shoulder.
When he came back down, Erica was holding a flat pillow. “Ziggy sleeps on this every night,” she said.
Trey took it and held it to King’s nose, and the dog sniffed for a few minutes and then looked up inquiringly at Trey.
“Okay,” he said to Erica. “You stay here with your sister. King and I will find Hannah and Ziggy. I promise.”
He turned and then paused in the doorway. “Search, King,” he ordered, and dived out into the storm again, hoping that, with King’s help, he’d be able to keep his promise.
* * *
“JUST GET INSIDE, MOM!”
From the middle of the motel parking lot, Julie heard Ria’s shout behind her and turned back into the wind, rain slapping her face and eyes. “I’ll check the guests over here,” she called, gesturing to the far wing of the motel.
Ria ran toward her, her feet splashing through puddles. “It’s too risky! Get inside!”
What was it that kept adult children from seeing that their parents were still competent adults? “Go on. Do what you need to do. I promise, I’m fine.”
Ria threw up her hands and then, at a shout from in front of the motel office, she rushed back in that direction.
Julie headed back toward the far wing, realizing only belatedly that this was where Melvin and Ashley were staying. Ugh.
Despite the Melvin factor, things were getting better for her. Life was okay. Just within the past week, she’d realized how far she’d come out of the postdivorce slump. Giving up the cottage and seeing it used in a positive way had helped, as had moving into Ria’s motel. As annoying as her granddaughters could be at times, Julie loved them madly. As for Ria, she was a wonderful daughter, the child of Julie’s heart, and it was good to be so close to her.
She rounded the corner of the building and looked down the row. All the doors were closed except for one, and she squinted to see who was out in the storm.
It was a child, about eight, standing in the door and crying. Behind him, two more children cried.
“What happened?” she asked as she hurried toward them. “Step back. You’re getting soaked.”
“Mama!” The little boy pointed.
Julie squinted through the driving rain. It was as if nightfall had come early, everything was so dark, but she dimly saw a figure on the other side of the fenced-in pool. “Is that your mom?” she asked.
“Yes. She went to check on our car and she can’t get back.”
Indeed, the parking lot between here and the pool was a river. The woman on the other side was pointing and crying. “My children!”
“Go back in and stay inside,” Julie told the kids. She braced herself and started toward the woman, grabbing a stick to steady herself.
“Grandma!” It was Kaitlyn calling out, and when Julie turned back to look, she realized that Sophia was there, too. “Mom told us to come get you,” she shouted.
She braced herself on her stick. “Go help the kids,” she ordered, pointing toward the open hotel room door.
“Help them how?” Sophia shouted.
Good heavens, didn’t they know anything? “Keep them inside and get them warm. Tell them their mama will be fine.”
The girls turned toward the kids, and Julie headed for their mother, but now the storm was even worse. The wind whipped at her as she made her way as close as she could get to the woman.
The woman pointed at the rushing water between them. “It’s deep! Don’t try to go through it!”
The wind blew harder and the woman turned, and suddenly she was falling into the flooded, racing river of water between them.
Julie stuck out her stick and braced herself. “Grab on!”
The woman grabbed for the stick, but missed it and fell backward into the water again, briefly going under. When she came up, gasping, Julie screamed at her. “Grab on and hold tight. I’ll get you to your kids!”
“Yes, yes!” The woman caught the stick and this time grasped it tightly with both hands. Struggling mightily, Julie pulled her to the motel side of the flooded parking lot. A huge gust of wind blew a couple of branches their way, and Julie helped the young mother to her feet and tugged her into a sheltered area beside a storage shed.
“You’re freezing,” she said. She stripped off her own warm rain jacket and wrapped it around the shivering woman.
“My babies, my babies,” the woman moaned, and despite Julie’s reassurances that Sophia and Kaitlyn were with them, she couldn’t calm down, couldn’t even catch her breath. She was panicking.
Julie was a mother and she understood. At the next break in the gusty wind, she put an arm around the woman’s back. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your kids.”
They struggled across the parking lot together, sloshing through ankle-deep water and squinting through the driving rain. As they reached the building, Melvin came out of his room two doors down. “Julie!” He sounded shocked and he was staring at her. “Cover up!”
&n
bsp; She glanced down at herself and realized she might possibly win a wet T-shirt contest, if there were one for older, curvier ladies.
If she’d had a dream of looking good for Melvin, it washed away with the pouring rain.
And she didn’t care in the least. Ignoring Melvin, she pounded on the door of the woman’s room, and Kaitlyn opened it. “Grandma!”
“Mommy!” the older boy yelled, and threw himself into his mother’s arms.
Julie steadied her, and then all the kids were hugging her.
“You’re rocking the T-shirt, Grandma, but it’s not the time or the place.” Kaitlyn was actually smiling.
“It’s not intentional, believe me.” She indicated the jacket the young mother was wearing.
Kaitlyn slipped off her hoodie and helped Julie pull it over her head.
“Come on,” Sophia said. “Let’s go or Mom will kill us. We’re supposed to watch out for you.”
“You know what,” Julie said. “I’m fine. You girls can go back to your mom and report or you can help me check on people. Your call.”
The oldest of the woman’s three kids threw his arms around Julie. “Thank you for saving our mama.”
“They weren’t very nice,” the middle-size boy said, pointing at Kaitlyn and Sophia. “They wouldn’t let us come outside.”
“They were right. They were keeping you safe,” the mama scolded. She gave Kaitlyn and Sophia quick hugs. “Thank you so, so much for helping my kids.”
“Come on,” Julie said to them. “Let’s go.” And as she led her granddaughters through the storm, checking doorways and windows on the way, she felt her shoulders square up, her spine straighten.
She’d done something good today, and she was going to see how else she could help. Because it didn’t matter that she was no spring chicken, and it didn’t matter how she looked to Melvin, her granddaughters or anyone else.
All that mattered was what she could do, how she could help. There was a role for her to play in this world, and she was going to play it, not from the sidelines, but from center stage.
Cottage at the Beach (The Off Season) Page 21
