Forever Beach (12 page)

His hairline receded slightly giving him an air of respectability. Not a hair of June's platinum pageboy was out of place. Both were impeccably dressed and smiling for the camera. Nonie stood in front of them, dressed in a skirt and blouse that would have had her making barfing noises if they'd seen some other girl wearing it. There was no doubt about it, Ilona Cartwright had once been Nonie Blanchard, Sarah's best friend and sister. She was wearing those stupid clothes. And smiling.
Smiling.

Just one big happy family,
Sarah thought, and anger and hurt swelled inside her. Nonie had lucked out big-time.

She read the article and almost barfed herself at the quote by Mr. Cartwright about race relations and the foster care system and how they wanted to do their part.

Sarah didn't read more. She didn't need to. Nonie had found a great home and forgotten about Sarah. Maybe she was even embarrassed to know her. Maybe she didn't want to be reminded of what went before.

And they had lived twenty minutes away. So close and she never even tried to get in touch with Sarah.

Was that why she'd run when Sarah saw her? Then why had she come at all? Sarah wanted to know. Wanted to confront her and ask her why. Or why she couldn't have just written her that she didn't need her anymore and then Sarah wouldn't have lived so long with false hope. Waiting for the day that Nonie would come and get her and she would have a real family at last.

Sarah yawned. She checked her phone to see if Wyatt had called. She liked him to call when he got back from a rescue mission. Just so she would know he was okay. She didn't always know when he went out. Sometimes he would tell her about it after he'd already returned. Still she worried.

An hour later, Sarah powered down her laptop. She'd learned a little more about Nonie, but as an adult, which stood to reason; the Internet wasn't all that common when they were kids.

She would have to confront her before this was over but not until she'd consulted Reesa and not until this first visit was behind them.

She checked on Leila, a little angel and free of care in her sleep. If only Sarah could promise her a life free from fear and insecurity. If given the chance, she could . . . and she would . . .

S
ARAH HAD FALLEN
into a fitful sleep filled with half-realized dreams and Technicolor nightmares and images that seemed to float between the two. She woke the next morning feeling like she had been sleeping underwater. She didn't remember dreaming, which was probably just as well. She woke Leila, who seemed reluctant to get out of bed. She felt her forehead. No temperature.

During breakfast, Sarah managed to keep upbeat, and so
was Leila. But when it was time to leave for the school bus, she refused to take her backpack. Sarah didn't make a big deal of it, just picked it up and took her hand.

She waved as the bus drove away, then turned to make the best of it until Leila came home and she had to turn her over to Danny Noyes.

She detoured past Dive Works and stopped to peer in the window to see if Wyatt was there. She could see him working behind the counter. Restocking shelves. He was amazing—store owner, rescue team leader, dive instructor, and still he always made time for Sarah and Leila.

With so many things unsettled in her life, she suddenly wanted to make sure he was okay. She tapped on the window.

He looked up, slid a box onto the counter, and came to open the door.

“Hey, what's up?” He was wearing wrinkled khaki shorts and a T-shirt.

He looked concerned and for a second Sarah wondered if she only sought him out when she needed something.

“I was just coming from the bus stop and wanted to know how the rescue went yesterday.”

“Fishing boat ran aground. Come on in. I've got a lesson in a few minutes.”

“No, I don't want to hold you up, and I've got to get to work. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thanks. But I have to wait until Victor gets in, and the hires aren't even here yet.” He stepped back, and she stepped over the threshold. He turned the Open sign over.

“Skipper broke his leg trying to get her free. Just one of those dumb things.”

“Well, I'm glad everything turned out all right.”

“So today's the big day, huh?”

“Yeah. I'm trying to stay calm. Maybe we can do this without all the angst and trauma of last time.”

He pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there. “You're a strong woman, Sarah Hargreave. You'll come through this.”

She smiled shakily. “One way or the other.”

The front door opened, setting the entry buzzer off. Sarah turned around expecting Victor. But it wasn't Victor. It was the young woman she'd seen talking to Wyatt the other day. Close up she was even prettier, more fit and blond than she'd been at a distance. She had a dazzling smile. It was trained on Wyatt.

“Am I late?” she asked in a voice Sarah swore was too sexy to be real.

“No. Just right. Here comes my associate.”

Sarah slid behind the woman, held up her hand to say good-bye to Wyatt, and walked quickly toward the door.

“Let me know how things go?” Wyatt called after her.

She wiggled her fingers at him and slipped past Victor as he came in the door.

Stupid,
Sarah chastised herself as she walked down the sidewalk. She should have been more friendly, or at least not be feeling jealous now. He was teaching the girl—woman—how to dive. Sarah couldn't go out with him because she didn't know how to swim. And had never wanted to, until maybe now.

She didn't have any hold over him. She didn't even want a hold over him. Did she? Then why was she suddenly jealous?

Because she had been taking him for granted. And Karen was right. She yo-yoed him in and out of her life at will. Well, it wasn't exactly at will; it was according to Leila. And that wasn't healthy. Leila needed to learn to trust men.

No, she didn't, Sarah reminded herself. Not until Sarah could protect her.

Men will take advantage, feel you up, rape you if you don't stay vigilant.

Sarah stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Where the hell had that come from? She didn't think like that. But she had once. And she was still leery now years later. She'd gotten off pretty light in her years in the system. Not that some of them didn't try it with her. She was just good at staying vigilant and running away before she was up against the wall, both figuratively and literally.

Of course that had gained her the reputation of being a flight risk and therefore more difficult to place. That had been okay with Sarah. The group home had its dangers. But there she'd known where they were coming from.

Leila needed to learn to be around men without freaking out, and Sarah would just keep her safe until she could take care of herself.

The morning sun was beating down on the sidewalk, heating the asphalt of the street. Sarah already felt dragged out and the day hadn't even begun. The visit with Carmen was hanging over both her and Leila's heads.

They'd both ignored the calendar that morning. Even though the sun sticker they'd put in the square seemed to grow large and more menacing with each passing hour.

As Sarah stopped to deadhead the begonias that grew in the large terra-cotta pot on the clock shop porch, her cell rang.

Karen's ringtone.

“Hey.”

“What time is Leila going to see Carmen today?”

“Danny is picking her up around three.”

“Just enough time to get her home and snacked and not enough time for both of you to sit around worrying.”

“Hmmm.”

“So Reesa and I will meet you at Ocean Brew at ten after.”

“I don't know.”

“You're not going to sit at home alone making yourself sick with worry.”

“You're right. Actually I do have something I want to talk to Reesa about and for you to hear.”

“Sounds intriguing. See you then. Gotta run. It's bring your grandparents to camp day. Gotta bribe them with IHOP before we go. See you at three.” And she hung up.

A
s the clocks ticked their way to the afternoon, Sarah became more and more tense.
It's just two hours, supervised,
she reminded herself. Plus a half hour of travel time. She'll be back by five fifteen.

But Leila was having none of it. When Sarah picked her up at the bus, she stretched up her arms to be carried. Sarah carried her as much for her own comfort as for Leila's. She wanted to make sure that Leila knew how much she loved her.

Sarah had to put her down while she opened the front door, but immediately Leila glommed to her side, her hand fisting in the hem of Sarah's work shirt.

She hadn't forgotten that today was her day to visit Carmen. And it was Sarah's duty to make the transition as smooth as possible.

“Do you want a snack before you get ready for your visit with Carmen this afternoon?”

Leila shook her head and dropped her backpack on the floor.

“What did you do at school today?”

Leila shrugged.

“Okay, then why don't we go to your room and you can put on the outfit you picked out last night?”

Leila pulled her whole body up before huffing out a sigh, letting Sarah know she was not happy.

Sarah tried not to admit it was gratifying. But she'd been here before, and she knew that transitions were the hardest. “It will be fun to see Carmen and I'll be right here when Danny brings you back.”

“You go with me.”

“Sorry, boobaloo, I can't.”

“Why?” A hint of a whine.

“It's the rules. You and Carmen and Danny can visit together.”

“Why?”

“Because it's the rules.”

“I hate rules.”

I know,
thought Sarah,
so do I.
These rules anyway. “Well, rules keep people safe.”

“Why?”

“Because people, all people, should be safe.”

Leila burrowed into her side, and it was all Sarah could do not to snatch her up and drive away with her. But that wouldn't keep Leila or Sarah safe. They wouldn't be safe until this all got sorted out.

Deciding not to push the issue of the clothes, she picked Leila and her backpack up and carried them into the living
room where she sat them all in the big overstuffed chair that had been Sam's place. She immediately felt calmer. As if Sam were still giving her strength from the grave. A bunch of hooey, she knew. But she was willing to take even hooey today.

She picked up a book at random and opened it.
Can You Find Me at the Beach?
One of those hidden picture books that Leila loved.

“Crab,” Leila said, pointing to the crab peeking out from under a striped beach towel. She took the book in both hands and looked over the picture, her brows knitted in concentration.

The knock at the door startled them both.

“That must be Danny. He's a little early.” Sarah went to answer the door. Danny Noyes stood on the porch in baggy khakis and a short-sleeve sports shirt. He was wearing a tie, but it was pulled loose at the neck, and the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned.

“Come in.”

They went into the living room, where Leila was standing behind the arm of Sam's chair as if it could hide her.

“Hey, Leila,” he said brightly. “Ready to go?”

Leila shook her head.

Danny cast Sarah a disparaging look.

“I did everything the book said.”

“Come on, your— Carmen is waiting for a visit. She's excited to see you.”

Sarah nodded encouragingly at Leila. “I love you, sunshine.”

Leila hung her head. Danny took her hand and escorted her out the door. She frowned back at Sarah as they walked across the sidewalk to Danny's car.

Sarah kept her smile glued in place, even though her jaw hurt and her lips were trembling. It was just a couple of hours. Everything would be fine.

She watched to make sure Danny put Leila in the car seat, watched him go around to the driver's side, watched as they drove away. Even after the car turned the corner and she couldn't see them, she waited. And finally closed the door. She stood in the foyer, fighting the nausea that threatened to overtake her. Leila would come back and everything would be fine.

Karen had been right about her not being alone. She would go crazy pacing the small cottage for the next few hours. She went to her desk and opened the notebook where she documented Leila's progress and setbacks. She logged in the date and time, the event, and Leila's reaction, then grabbed her bag and headed for the Ocean Brew.

She and Karen met at the door.

“Whew,” Karen said and hugged her. “Whoever called summer a vacation was bat poop crazy.”

Sarah smiled, though she still felt sick and coffee was probably the last thing she needed.

As soon as they were inside, Sarah made a beeline for a free table by the window, so she could see the street in case for some reason Danny and Leila returned early.

Karen gave her a sympathetic smile. “There's a long road ahead, too early to freak out.”

“I know. It just blindsided me and you know how it goes, huge backsliding in behavior and learning. It's already starting.” She saw Reesa hurrying past the window and waved to her.

Reesa barreled into the coffee bar. “Sorry I'm late. Did everything go okay?”

“So far,” Sarah said.

“How about you?” Karen asked.

“I played hooky this morning to arrange housing for an older lady at the senior residence. Aguda found her an available apartment, hallelujah. Sometimes things just work out.”

“You've taken on the elderly in your spare time?” Karen asked.

“No,” Reesa said as she wrestled out of her summer jacket. “She was the one who sounded the alert for the White boys I just removed. She lives in a building surrounded by drugs and worse. I figured she deserved better.”

“Good for you,” Karen said.

Sarah dragged her gaze from the window. She couldn't stare out at the street for the next couple of hours, ignoring her friends when they had taken time to help her through. “She's lucky that you pulled the case.”

“For my sins,” Reesa said.

“I mean, not everybody would have thought about her.”

“Any more on the other front?” Karen asked.

Reesa shook her head and turned to Sarah. “At the beach the other day, I blurted out that I was going to leave Michael. I meant it then. But now it seems so extreme. What I think I need is another job.”

“Another job?” Sarah said, surprised. “Where would you find the hours?”

“I mean a different job.”

Sarah stared at her. “You mean quit being a caseworker?”

“Maybe.”

“But what about all those children?”

Karen laid a hand on Sarah's arm.

“Sorry, it's just that you're so good at what you do.”

“Except that I'm burned out. Some days I think I can't witness another desperate family, or a battered or neglected child. We're like that story, with our fingers in the dike. God, sorry. We're here to make you feel better.”

“Then for starters,” Karen said, “let's get drinks and something terribly sweet and caloric.” They all went up to the counter and returned a few minutes later with two iced coffees, an iced chai for Sarah, as well as several pastries, a knife, and three forks.

“Well, I have a bombshell to drop,” Sarah said.

Karen, who had been dividing the pastries in thirds, stopped.

“Nothing about Leila?” Reesa asked.

“Not directly. But I know why Ilona Cartwright refused to take my case.”

Reesa's eyebrows lifted. Karen put down the knife.

“We were in foster care—in a group home—together.”

“No. Ilona Cartwright? Are you sure?” Reesa reached for a piece of peach turnover. “I knew she was adopted, but I don't remember it ever being mentioned about her being in the system.”

“She was Nonie Blanchard then. And my best friend. Better than my best friend. We said we were sisters.” The memory was still like a slice across her heart. “We swore we would always watch out for each other; well, at first she watched out for me mostly. She was older and had been there longer. But then she was adopted, I guess by the Cartwrights. We promised to write every week. But she never did.”

The force of that memory hit her so hard that it nearly took her breath away. What had she done to make Nonie hate her so?

“That's crazy,” Karen said, putting a piece of turnover on Sarah's plate.

“Neither of you said anything while we were there,” Reesa said.

“I didn't know then. She doesn't look anything like she did when I knew her and I never knew her name was Ilona, just Nonie. But she recognized me. She must have. That's why she wouldn't take the case. I don't know what I did that made her so angry at me, but she obviously still holds a grudge.”

“Wait. Then how did you figure out that you knew her?”

“She was down here yesterday. I'm sure she was following me. She saw me meet Leila at the bus after school. I saw her standing across the street and when she saw me, she turned and walked away, then disappeared down one of the walk-throughs. I ran after her, but when I reached the end of the walk-through, she was gone.”

“And you're sure it was her?”

“As soon as she turned and walked away, I could tell. It's exactly what she taught me to do when we were shoplifting.” Sarah grimaced. “Before I reformed. She had me practice so many times and copy her that I would know it anywhere. It sounds crazy, but it isn't. It was Nonie all right. That's why she wouldn't take the case—she hates me. That must be why she came down to spy on me. What do you think she's up to? Trying to sabotage my chances?”

“Stop.” Reesa put up her hand, crossing guard style. “You don't know that she has ulterior motives. Maybe she just happened to be shopping when you saw her.”

“Then why did she run?”

“You should go talk to her,” Karen said. “Maybe it's just a misunderstanding. Her letters got lost. You know how the system is. Someone could have stolen them. Or a thousand things could have happened. I bet if you talked things out—”

Sarah shook her head. “I haven't forgiven her, either. Two years we were inseparable, sisters. Then she left me behind. She promised she'd come back for me, but she never looked back.”

Reesa leaned forward on her elbows. “Sarah, you know she wouldn't have been able to do that.”

“Maybe not then, but she could have written like she promised to do; she could have looked me up once she was on her own. She never did.”

Reesa laid her hand on Sarah's arm. “We may not even need her.”

“But you should try to reconcile,” Karen said, passing around three sections of a sticky bun. “It's not good to leave things like that to fester. Just talking about it—”

“No. She's had eighteen years to reach out to me. The system knew where I was. And they know where I am now.”

“Look,” Reesa said. “Let's give it some time, see what shakes out. If it turns out we do need her, I'll talk to her. Twenty years is a long time to be angry. I'll try to convince her to do the right thing.”

“Don't bother. You said yourself we had time. I'll let Randy handle it, or I'll find someone else. But not her.”

K
AREN AND
R
EESA
stayed at the coffee bar after Sarah went home to wait for Leila and Danny. They watched her walk across the street, up her porch steps, and go inside. Then they turned to each other.

“It's like she's already distancing herself from us,” Karen said.

Reesa nodded. “Detaching. It's a classic reaction. Sometimes the child isn't the only one that regresses.”

“But she's pulling away already, like she expects to lose, like she doesn't expect us to stand by her.”

“When you're used to losing, losing becomes your default mode.”

“Well, it sucks.” Karen cut the last chocolate croissant in half and handed half to Reesa. “Gosh, look at me. I've been cutting everyone else's food like I was the mother or something.”

“You are and a good one. And so is Sarah if given the chance.”

“So what can we do?”

“You've run support groups for years.”

“But this is different. Sarah is our friend.”

“And we'll be here when she needs us. But she has to come to that realization. We can't just keep butting in. It will make her defensive and less able to cope.”

“It's such a mess. Do you think Carmen might really have a chance of getting Leila back?”

“From past attempts, no. But this might be the time that works.”

“I should have warned Sarah not to adopt from the system. They make it too difficult.”

“Tell me about it. I'd really like to have Cartwright lined up in case we need her.”

They both finished their half of the croissant, not talking, each with her own thoughts.

“So what are you going to do?” Karen asked, pushing the cake plate away.

Reesa raised her eyebrows. “About Sarah or Ilona Cartwright?”

“About your life.”

“Damned if I know. But something's gotta give or I might end up on the cover of some tabloid.”

“That bad?”

“Pretty much.”

Karen reached for her hand. “You need a vacation.”

Reesa gave her a look. “Me and all the other overworked, underpaid, sleep-deprived caseworkers.”

“I mean it. At least take a long weekend. I know. Come stay with us for a few days. It will be mass craziness, but at least it will be good craziness. You can tell Michael you're having a girls' weekend away. Even better, we
will
have a girls' weekend. I bet Sarah could use one by then, too. We've got the beach, and I'll con Stu into watching the kids. We'll have Sarah bring Leila over, and the three of us will go have some fun. Goodness knows we could all use some.”