Forever Beach (13 page)

S
ARAH WAS STANDING
at the window when Danny double-parked his Hyundai in front of her cottage. He ran around to the backseat and scuttled Leila out of the car seat, swung her to the grass verge, and then hurried her up the steps to the house.

Sarah opened the door and knelt down to give Leila a hug, but Leila pulled her hand away from Danny's and blew right past Sarah without slowing down.

Danny looked apologetic, but spoiled it by glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't getting ticketed.

“This is normal behavior,” he said as he began stepping back across the porch. “There's always a little adjustment after visits.”

“I know, Danny. Been there, done that. Several times. You'd better go see to your car.”

“Yeah, thanks. Next week same time?” He'd asked it as a
question but since there was only one acceptable answer, Sarah didn't bother to say it. He nodded, turned, and sprinted toward his car, just as a black-and-white came around the corner.

Sarah closed the door, took several calming breaths and went in search of Leila. She was in her room sitting on the floor. Her backpack was open and she was rummaging inside.

“Did you have a good time?” Sarah asked.

Leila ignored her. The silent treatment. She'd been pretty good at it herself at one time.

“Want an apple and some almond butter?”

“I want candy.”

“We don't have candy. How about yogurt and granola?”

“I want candy.”

“We don't have candy.”

Leila looked up then, her eyes narrowed, her face scrunched up—her “mean” face—and Sarah smiled.

“Carmen has candy.”

“How about Jell-O?”

“Go away.”

Leila got to her feet and pushed Sarah toward the bedroom door. Sarah didn't resist or try to change her mind. She just left the room. She heard Leila shut the door behind her.

Sarah sighed. Just like clockwork. It was happening all over again.

I
LONA CLOSED HER
briefcase as the courtroom cleared. The Sobrato case had just been recessed until next Friday and she wasn't happy about it. She could have gone in for the kill and finished this charade—and the opposing lawyers knew it.

Now they would spend the interim time negotiating and bargaining. She wasn't going to negotiate or bargain. Olivia
Sobrato was going to get a shitload of money or Ilona would go back to law school for a brushup course.

Olivia stood and reached for her purse, leaning in close to Ilona. “We have them, don't we?”

We, nothing,
Ilona thought.
The only thing you've done is whine and complain
. “I think we do. Excuse me.” Ilona took her briefcase and strode toward Barry O'Doul who was pleading the next case.

“See you on Friday,” Olivia called after her.

“Damn,” Barry said. “You were fierce.”

Ilona smiled her barracuda smile and waited for Olivia to mince her way up the aisle of the courtroom. “I was just doing my job for my client.”

“Yeah, you had 'em by the short hairs, that's for sure. Man, the way you wiped the floor with Ken's presentation; my balls headed for the hills in sympathy. Damn.”

The clerk called for the next case.

“Good luck,” Ilona said and climbed the steps to the back door. Good luck and a dose of histrionics—those were the only two tools in Barry's toolbox.

Her energy lasted as long as it took to get to her car. She reviewed the afternoon and pretended to be pleased—long enough to get out of the parking garage and to the coast road.

Then the courtroom drama fell behind her like the wake of a speedboat, and the hurt and anger she'd been fighting against since seeing Sarah Hargreave rushed over her once again.

She'd made something of her life, had endured, hadn't let anything or anyone stop her from getting what she wanted. She was right where she wanted to be, on her way up in the legal world. Living in a posh apartment, socializing with the up-and-comers.

And in one mistaken decision, one brief encounter, it all came crashing down. Her past staring her in the face.

She stepped on the accelerator and the car tore down the street while Ilona screamed at the top of her lungs.

            
Dear Sarah,

                
I hate you. I hope you are dead.

Not your sister anymore.

Nonie

S
arah and Leila managed to get through the evening, though Leila refused to speak for most of it. Waking up with a tummyache in the middle of the night helped to break the ice somewhat, until Sarah explained that it was probably from eating too much candy. Then Leila turned her back on Sarah, pulled the covers over her head, and finally fell back to sleep.

The silent treatment continued through breakfast, and by the time she saw Leila off at the bus, Sarah was frayed around the edges.

So instead of going directly to the store, she detoured to Ocean Brew. Wyatt was coming out carrying his morning coffee. He was wearing jeans and a stretched-out T-shirt. He looked strong and handsome, but more than that, he looked comfortable.

“Hey,” she said.

“How did it go with Leila yesterday?”

“Like you'd expect. Went willingly enough. Came back quiet. Got mad because Carmen had candy and we didn't.” Sarah shrugged. “Par for the course, I guess you'd say.”

“Well, hopefully this won't go on for too long.”

Sarah nodded. “Well, I'd better get to work. I've been sorely neglecting the store lately.”

“It's summer.” Wyatt grinned, but he seemed a little distant. Was he already expecting her to start pushing him out of their lives? Because that's what she did. She didn't want to. But what choice was there?

Her cell phone rang—Karen's ringtone.

“See you later,” Wyatt said.

“Later.” Sarah answered the phone as she watched him walk away.

“Hey, girlfriend. Get all your work done. I'm declaring this weekend girls' weekend away.”

“Karen, I can't go anywhere, not now.”

“Oh, we're not going anywhere, but Reesa needs to have some decompression time. She's going to spend the weekend here. Stu has promised to keep the kids busy and we're going to the beach in the afternoon and to a bar that night and to wherever we want to go. And you're coming, too.”

“Maybe for part of the time.”

“Listen. Reesa's always doing for other people, now it's our turn to give back a bit. So you can't say no.”

“Okay, but I'll have to check on the store sometimes.”

“We'll allow that. And you don't have to sleep at my house, unless you want to.”

“Sounds like fun. But I do have responsibilities.”

“We've invited everyone over to Wyatt's house for a Sunday afternoon barbecue.”

“Did you let Wyatt know? I just saw him and he didn't say anything.”
And why was that?
she wondered.

“Of course we did. We're bringing the food. The guys will grill.”

“Kids, too?”

“Kids, too.”

“Great.”

“I hope you stir up more enthusiasm than that by Saturday. Reesa needs us.”

“I know. I am enthusiastic. I'm just working out the logistics.” And wondering if Wyatt was going to invite the blonde to the barbecue. Maybe she shouldn't go.

“Make sure you do. Gotta run.” Karen hung up.

Sarah unlocked the store and went inside, stopping to look around like she did every morning. Today she let the steady beat of the clocks calm the beating of her heart. She always found peace among the clocks. Time always passed at the same speed, at least in her world.

You couldn't stop it, you couldn't make it go faster or slower, you could just make the best of it. Sam's words. And he'd laugh when Sarah rolled her eyes at him. Sam had taught her acceptance along with all the other important things.

It hadn't been easy. When she walked into the clock store that first day, she had spent years trapped in a holding pattern of waiting. She'd been living in the system, when you were at the mercy of so many factors, none of them personal, and none of which you understood.

Sarah had never felt in control of her life, her world, until she met Sam. Even then she'd fought him. He never gave up on her; he taught her how to stand on her own feet, stick up for herself in a constructive way, not by fighting or furtive attacks;
he taught her to relax, to enjoy the world around her. And he shared his life's love with her, clocks.

At first he only let her dust, showing her how to lightly reach into the “nooks and crannies, like English muffins,” he said. Sarah didn't get it, but she nodded like she did. She didn't fool him. She could tell from his eyes, but he didn't make her feel stupid or anything.

When he finally let her help with repairs, she acted like she didn't care. But she did, more than she could understand. All those little parts, some so tiny that she went all fumble fingers and they would roll and hide until she wanted to throw the whole damn thing in the trash. Sam would just wait for her to calm down, then help her search for the pieces. And when they'd all been returned to the workbox, he'd hand her a magnifier glass, and start her all over again.

She would sometimes complain bitterly, but when she was done, each part, no matter how tiny, was put together in a way that made everything work. Steady, dependable. Like Sam. Like the way life should be.

In the clock shop Sarah felt she belonged, had a reason to exist. Out in the world she was not so sure. Even now, over a decade later.

Now she was stuck in that holding pattern again, at the mercy of decisions made by strangers. She knew there was nothing she could do but wait. Hope, prepare to be disappointed.

Whenever she was depressed or feeling lost, Sam would shake his head and he'd tell her to be her own champion. She sometimes lost sight of that now that he wasn't here to egg her on.

If she was to stay on top of things, she needed to step up to the plate. And she knew just where to start. Because that was
one thing she could “do,” without waiting for someone else's decision.

The minute Alice walked in, Sarah grabbed her bag. “I have to run out. I should be back in a while.” She had no idea when she would be back—a few minutes or a few hours, whatever it took. But sometime before she had to pick up Leila at the bus.

Before she could second-guess herself, Sarah was in her car and driving to the Erickson, Cartwright and Hefley law offices.

She didn't even know if Nonie was there today or if she was in court. Hell, she could be taking the day off and spending it on someone's yacht. Maybe her own. Sarah didn't care; at least she was being proactive. If she had to leave without seeing her, she would, but she'd be back, and she would show up without warning her old friend, her sister, that she was coming. Not give her notice so she could turn her back on her again without hearing her out.

She didn't even know what she wanted to say, mainly she just wanted to know.

I
LONA WAS ON
the phone to Mr. Sobrato's lawyer. His client wanted to meet. Settle this out of court. Too late, baby. They'd had their chance. She was just about to tell him so when the door opened.

“I'm sorry, I couldn't stop her,” Inez explained, following close on the heels of Sarah Hargreave.

“I'll have to call you back.” Ilona hung up the phone. “Inez, get security up here. Stat.”

Inez hurried from the room.

Ilona turned to Sarah, who looked like an avenging pixie. “Do you think bursting in here will get you anything but ar
rested?” Ilona said at her coldest. But she was shaken. She'd been off balance ever since seeing Sarah with her foster daughter. Off balance and angry.

Sarah didn't slow down, until she reached the opposite side of the desk. She braced her hands on the top and leaned forward. “I can't believe you have lived here for the last ten years and you never tried to contact me. But I guess I understand it now. You're cold and heartless and you don't care about anything but climbing the ladder to success. To think I actually believed you when you said we were sisters. That we would always have each other's backs. I trusted you. Loved you. And you betrayed me. You left me with nothing, not even hope.”

She sucked in her breath on a sob. “I hope you're happy with what you have. I hope it was worth it.”

Sarah turned and left as fast as she'd come. Before Ilona had a chance to understand what she was saying. Much less defend herself.

Inez's head appeared in the doorway. “Do you want to file a complaint? Have her arrested?”

Ilona shook her head. “Just have security escort her out of the building. I don't think she'll be back.”

Inez nodded, and the heavy door swung closed behind her. Ilona closed her eyes.

            
Dear Sarah,

                
I didn't mean it. It's just why don't you write me?

Nonie

S
ARAH STOOD ON
the sidewalk in the sun, breathing hard. Not willing to wait for the elevator, she'd taken four flights of stairs
down. She half expected the security team to be waiting for her at the bottom.

What had she been thinking? What if they actually carted her off to jail for breaking or entering or something? She wouldn't put it past the person who used to be Nonie to do something like that. And how would that look on her record at Child Protection and Permanency?

And she didn't even have the satisfaction of seeing Ilona turn back into Nonie and tell her to go eff herself. That's what she would have done before, only she wouldn't have stopped there.

But of course the manicured imitation of her friend inside her air-conditioned, sterile office would never stoop to something so low class. She wouldn't even acknowledge Sarah's presence, much less react to her. Just sat behind her big designer desk with her stony face and waited for her minions to come relieve her of Sarah's unwanted appearance.

Well, to hell with her.

Though to be honest Sarah hadn't given her much of a chance to respond. She had just wanted to get said what she needed to say before she was thrown out. And she had said most of it.

She started walking down the street to where she'd parked the car next to the curb.
Expecting the need for a hasty getaway?
She smiled at the thought. She almost did.

But damn, it felt good to be doing something, even if it made absolutely no difference to anyone else but her.

Her car was stifling, the seat burning from the sun. It was a good thing she hadn't needed to jump in and speed away. As it was, she stood outside while the air conditioner ran, then she got inside and drove away.

It was on the way home that Sarah began to wonder if she'd done something really stupid. Would Nonie be so vindictive as to report her to the child services staff, say that she'd broken into her office and threatened her. That she had anger management problems, that she was a threat to Leila. Sarah wouldn't put it past her. But she had her friends and they would be good character witnesses.

Friends. She had friends. Sometimes in the craziness of her life, she forgot. She had friends. Good friends. Like a family.

            
Dear Ilona,

                
I don't need you anymore. I thought I did, but I don't. It was hard but I held out hope that I would see you again. I never stayed with a family for long. One, there were too many children. They didn't do anything but take the money and sit around watching television. Another the man kept trying to get inside my pants. The wife caught him with his hand up my shirt and slapped me. I ran away. There were others, and through it all I kept telling myself to hang tough like you said. That we'd be sisters again one day.

                
I lost you. But I found Sam. He is the one who taught me how to trust people. How to love. How to expect a good day ahead instead of a bad. I owe everything I am today to Sam, not you.

                
And to my friends who like me in spite of the socially inept mess that I still am. So go on with your life. And I'll go on with mine.

Your . . . nothing,

Sarah

Sarah went straight to the workshop when she got home. She needed to be with the clocks, to envelop herself in the feel of them, the sound of them. She had friends, but she needed her clocks to keep her sane. To keep her from being afraid. Clocks were good. You knew where you were with clocks.

R
EESA GRABBED A
packaged sandwich and a cup of coffee from the hospital canteen and remembered to get her parking ticket validated before leaving the hospital. The office was still looking for relatives who would be interested in taking the three White children. Until then, Reesa was making sure they were being well taken care of. Pete was resilient and would be ready to leave the hospital soon, probably as soon as there was a bed available in one of the care facilities. Little Jerome was still in intensive care.

Reesa had taken Pete a video game. It had belonged to one of her boys and was pretty out of date, but Pete seemed happy to get it. Then she sat by Jerome's bed, wondering how a boy so small could have so many tubes keeping him alive. It was enough to break anyone's heart.

She drove to the CP&P office where she had to sit in on a team meeting for the White boys. She'd already told them to put the boys on a permanency track. She'd tell them again today. They could talk about it all they wanted and they would. There was always someone who thought they knew best and would argue until the others gave up or shut them down.

And they wondered why caseworkers couldn't get their work done.

She'd heard from Tanya Aguda about an apartment for Ms. McKinney. She'd pulled some strings and found a small unit. It wouldn't be available for another week while it was being re
painted, but she could take the older woman over to look at the place before she signed the papers. That's one thing she could do without a committee.

She phoned Michael.

It took him almost ten rings before he answered.