Forever Beach (21 page)

She left him staring after her, interest barely registering on his face.

That night he slept in the recliner and she didn't miss him one bit.

Reesa grabbed her overstuffed briefcase. Only one of the clasps worked. An executive, even a minor one, in any business would buy a new briefcase. They even sold them at the big discount stores. She could afford one, so why did she continue to carry this one around?

She didn't even look into the den to see if Michael was awake. She was afraid that she might take up where she'd left off the night before. She went out to her car, threw her briefcase and purse onto the passenger seat and climbed in after them.

She was halfway to the office when she pulled to the curb and fished in her bag for her cell.

Mrs. Finch, her supervisor, was in the office and answered her phone. Reesa took it as a good sign.

“It's Reesa Davis.”

“Good morning, Reesa. Heard things went well for one of your families yesterday.”

“Yes.” One out of how many? “I called because I'm really not feeling”—
up to the job? can't possibly face it? have had it up to here?
—“well this morning.”

“Oh dear. I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have anything scheduled?”

“No. Nothing specific.”

“Well, then take the time off. And take care of yourself. We need you.”

“Thank you.” Reesa hung up. They needed more than her.

She sat there for a few minutes. She never called in sick. But today was different. Today was a mental health day. Maybe a permanent mental health day.

Reesa drove to her favorite deli, ordered coffee and a bagel with extra vegetable cream cheese, and sat down and ate it. Then she drove to Eighth Street and Hands Around the World.

A
S SOON AS
Sarah returned from seeing Leila to the bus, she called Randy Phelps to alert him to the hearing date, which he already knew but hadn't planned on consulting her about. When pressed for information on why this was even happening, he told her that Carmen had convinced the court that she had been underrepresented by her appointed attorney, that he had not explained things thoroughly about termination of parental rights.

“Which is a crock,” Randy said. “Sarah, I don't think we need to worry overmuch. These things rarely go in favor of the bio parents.”

“Unless there was some bit of the court order that wasn't correct,” she countered.

She could hear him sigh over the phone. And she wasn't even a pro bono case. She expected more from him for her money, but she didn't say so. Now was not the time to alienate her attorney.

“There is nothing on our side that isn't solidly in place.”

“So what do you think will happen?”

“I expect it to be thrown out.” He paused. “Unless Ms. Del
gado has made particularly excellent progress with her rehab and the judge acknowledges the possible mistake in the earlier judgment.”

“In other words, the adoption is not a sure thing.”

“Not a sure thing, but both factors would have to be compelling for the court to reverse its decision.”

“Will you be allowed to present evidence at the hearing?”

“Briefly, perhaps, but it isn't a judgment hearing, just whether to continue on with the appeal and possible reunification. The judge won't make any kind of pronouncement until Carmen's been through unsupervised extended visits and comes out clean.”

“That could take months.”

“Unfortunately it could. But it also means it allows more time for Carmen to fall off the wagon.”

“But—” Sarah stopped herself. She didn't want Carmen to fall back into drugs and poverty and abusive relationships. She just wanted to adopt Leila.

“Let's just wait and see how things shake out. Depending on the judge we pull, the whole thing might get thrown out.”

“So should I bring documentation?”

“Not really necessary. The DAG will be there, Carmen's new lawyer, who is a bit of a blowhard, Carmen's caseworker, Leila's CASA advocate—”

“The same one as before?”

“Not sure. I imagine if she's still available. Regardless, since this is an appeal, they'll probably appoint a counsel ad litem to represent her. And if they do, most likely there will be an adjournment in order for the attorney to be brought up to speed on the case.”

Which could mean months, maybe a year, before Leila's
future would be decided. “What about Carmen's other children?”

“What about them?”

“Is she trying to get them back?”

“I don't know what she's planning, but those cases are older and pretty decisive. I'm only aware of one baby since Leila, and he was removed at birth. He is in a full-care facility.” He sighed. “These crack babies. I don't think she has the desire, never mind the means, to care for him.”

“So she's going after Leila because she's the next youngest.”

“She's not a predator, Sarah. She's just a mother who wants her child.”

“There's a big difference between what you want and being able to love and care for a child twenty-four seven until adulthood.”

“True. Whether she's capable of doing that is another question altogether. That's what this round of hearings will decide. If they even decide to go forward with it. Which I doubt. But don't worry. Once this is done, they'll speed you through the rest of the process. You'll get your adoption papers and start on your new life.”

New life. It wouldn't be new. Leila had been with her for nearly three years not counting two brief reunifications with Carmen. She was woven into Sarah's life. Tear her away and you tore away part of Sarah. She wasn't sure Leila would survive another round with Carmen. Sarah wasn't sure she could.

That afternoon as Sarah and Leila walked past the dive store on their way home from the bus, Wyatt stepped out from the door.

Leila ran over. “Guess where we're going today?”

“Are you sure you should be working?” Sarah asked, coming up behind Leila.

“Swimming lessons,” Leila told him without waiting for him to guess.

“You're going to learn to swim?”

“Me and Mommee.”

Wyatt cut a look at Sarah. Smiled.

“I know, but the instructor said I don't have to go in very deep.”

“First step, up to your ankles; next step, deep sea diving.”

Sarah shivered; she couldn't help it. She didn't know how in the world she could be such good friends with someone whose interests were so different.

“I missed you two last night,” Wyatt said.

“Well . . .” Sarah began.

“I told her. And we came but then she said you had company and we couldn't go in.”

Wyatt frowned, then he made a face. “Caitlyn.”

Sarah shrugged. She could feel her face growing warm; she felt like such a fool.

“Well, you could still have come in,” he told Leila, then he glanced at Sarah.

“Didn't want to interrupt.”

Wyatt chuckled. “You are too much.”

“And we're going to be late if we don't get a move on.”

“And we wouldn't want you to be late for swimming, would we?”

Sarah made a face.

“See you tonight?”

She started to say they might be late.

“We can order takeout. I want to hear all about your first day in the pool.”

“Yes.” Leila lifted her chin, looking up to Wyatt, bending back so far, she almost fell backward.

“Goofball,” he said.

They left him on the sidewalk, Sarah acutely aware that he was watching her. But when they turned to cross the street, he'd gone back inside. Good, the way he was acting was making her nervous.

After a quick snack, they donned their swimsuits and drove to the Y for a Mommy and Me swim class. Most of the other children were younger; none of them knew how to swim—including Sarah.

She just took a breath, crossed her fingers that neither Leila—nor she—would freak out when they touched the water, and helped Leila down the steps to the shallow end. The water was warm, and—since the instructor had promised Sarah she wouldn't have to go past the point where she could touch—inviting. Being able to see the bottom and being able to stand on her own two feet made a big difference and she began to enjoy being in the pool.

Leila took to it immediately, kicking her feet and laughing, though she held tightly to Sarah even after the instructor strapped a bubble around her back. As soon as she realized she could float, she eased her grip on Sarah's neck and was content to let Sarah hold her by both hands while the “wheels on the bus went round and round.”

Sarah decided that before the next summer she and Leila would both learn to swim. And tried not to think that they might not be together next summer.

A
fter class and innumerable rounds of “The Wheels on the Bus” and “Five Little Ducks”—which Sarah thought was an odd choice until all the little ducks came back—they showered and changed in the “family” dressing room and called Wyatt from the parking lot.

“So you didn't drown,” he said, when Sarah told him they were finished.

“Very funny, and I didn't go screaming down the corridor either.” How could she be friends—more than friends—with a professional diver, lifeguard, and water rescuer and be afraid of the water? “Do you still want dinner?”

“Yep. If it's not too much trouble.”

“Of course it isn't.”

Wyatt said he'd call their favorite barbecue place and Sarah would pick the food up on her way home.

By the time she reached Wyatt's, Leila was snoring in her car seat.

Sarah drove to the back of the driveway and carried Leila up the steps to the porch.

Wyatt insisted on taking her at the door, even though he was still recuperating. But he was looking frustrated and impatient, and Sarah decided it was best not to argue. He only winced a little when Leila wrapped her arms and legs around him.

Sarah went back out for the food; when she came in Wyatt was waiting in the kitchen empty handed. “I put her on the couch so she wouldn't wake up in a strange bedroom.”

She smiled. Considerate even when injured. What a guy.

“You know she's accepting me pretty well this time around.”

“I know,” Sarah said, pulling aluminum tins out of the shopping bags and placing them on the island. “I just hope that won't change with all these Carmen visits. She's already had a couple of full-blown tantrums.”

He came around the side of the island and pulled her into a hug. “Promise me you won't shut me out if things get intense.”

“Wyatt, I don't want to shut you out ever, but I can't promise. Right now Leila has to know she's safe. I can't put her through that again.”

“She has to learn she can trust some people.”

“I know.” Sarah started to pull away, but he held on to her.

“And so do you.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “I trust people.”

“Only when it's safe to trust them.”

“The food's getting cold.”

He let her go and reached to get down plates and bowls from the cabinets.

Sarah piled ribs on a plate. “Wyatt, are you drawn to me because you think I need saving?”

“What? Well, you do need saving, but you could save your
self.” He handed her a plate but held on to it. He smiled slowly. “I'm drawn to you, because you're hot.” The smile turned into his current lopsided grin.

He looked goofy and tousled and handsome and glorious. And he thought she was hot. How cool was that?

K
NOWING THE UPCOMING
hearing would take up her time and being determined to spend at least a few hours on the beach on the weekend, Sarah spent the next two days catching up on her work.

The mantel clock was returned to its owners who were ecstatic at having it working again. She prepared several antique watches for sale and took in a grandfather's clock whose mechanisms had been scavenged for parts by person or persons unknown.

Mrs. Bridges's violin clock still thwarted her at every stage, but she had several sections in working order. She was too close to give up now. It would work again if she had to stay up every night to make it happen.

Saturday turned out to be a busy day. While Leila was at her visit with Carmen, Sarah sold two vintage shelf clocks, an art deco alarm clock, several watches, and an Early American tall case clock made from mahogany and walnut burl.

“He must have had his eye on that piece for a while,” Alice said as soon as the customer left. “That whole transaction took less than half an hour.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows and smiled.

“Are you sure it was priced high enough?”

Sarah's smile slipped a little. “Yes. Enough to pay this year's taxes, maybe a bit of next year's, too.”

That night Wyatt came to the cottage for dinner. Leila immediately dragged him back to her bedroom to take pictures of her and her outline drawing to see if she'd grown. When Sarah came in to call them to dinner, they were sitting on the floor, the Candy Land board laid flat between them.

Leila jumped up to go wash her hands.

Wyatt needed a bit of help getting off the floor.

“I owe you,” she said as he levered to his feet.

“And you're going to pay me, later tonight.”

Leila went to bed soon after dinner. Wyatt stayed until dawn.

W
YATT DIDN'T COME
back for breakfast since he was giving a diving workshop at a dive place in another town. Sarah didn't think he should be slinging heavy equipment around. He merely said he'd be careful, kidded her about worrying about him. And didn't change his plans.

She suggested he take Victor to do the heavy lifting, but he needed Victor at the store. She gave up.

He'd returned to working at the store but his rescue, lifeguard, and dive instructor work was still on hold. And would be for a while. Sarah could feel him getting more restless as the days went on and he was still hobbling around. He didn't relish nonactivity and she guessed he also wanted to get back on the job to quell any naysaying about the professionalism of the rescue team.

He didn't have to worry. The guy who was talking smack in the Brew that morning called him to apologize. He'd just been razzing, but it was misconstrued. Wyatt told her that the guy had said she was fierce.

“That's right and don't you forget it,” she told him. It had been different with Sarah being able to help him out when it was usually the other way around. And Sarah felt herself growing closer to him . . . because of it? In a way it was comforting to see the man out of his element. It made him more human. Not more human, he was always very human, but not so overwhelming. More equal. Which was a joke. She couldn't even swim. Much less save people, or care about her friends enough to run to the rescue anytime one of them needed her.

She was getting better at it though. She'd been so caught up in Leila that she'd lost perspective on the rest of life.

The therapists were always saying you should integrate the pieces of your life into a whole. Sarah preferred the tapestry analogy, herself.

It was a little after three when Sarah and Leila put on their swimsuits, then slathered on sunscreen. They packed up some snacks and bottles of water, stuffed two big beach towels in a beach tote, and walked down to the beach.

“Bessie!” Leila squealed when she saw the top of Karen's polka-dotted umbrella.

Sarah had to grab her hand to keep her from running across the street. Once they had watched both ways for cars and crossed the street to the boardwalk, Sarah let Leila go. She had to slow down to get down the steps, but she managed them by herself, an easy feat for most four-year-olds, and Sarah comforted herself with the knowledge that Leila was beginning to catch up to her peers.

The summer program had been a great idea.

They stopped to take off their flip-flops, then Leila ran across the sand to where Bessie and Tammy were digging.

“We're making pies,” Tammy informed her and handed her
a green plastic mold. Sarah unfolded one of the beach chaises and set it up next to Karen under the umbrella.

Karen turned her magazine over on her stomach and pulled her sunglasses down. “I can't believe you're actually wearing a swimsuit to the beach. Is that because Wyatt's meeting you here?”

“No-o-o. Actually he's working.”

“Is he crazy?”

“He's giving a workshop on diving. He's going stir-crazy.”

“I can believe it.” Karen leaned over the arm of her chaise and rummaged in her bag. She pulled out a spray bottle and tossed it to Sarah. “Here, put this on.”

“Thanks, but I already sprayed us both before we came, and it's after three so we should be okay.

“Just put it on your face and sit down. Now that you're back to the land of the living, you don't want your skin to look like an old woman.”

Sarah made a face at her, but she put on the additional sunscreen.

“I'm even going to learn to swim.”

Karen, who had just opened her magazine again, put it down. “Say what?”

Sarah laughed. “You heard me. We're doing a Mommy and Me class at the Y, and in the fall I've decided to sign us both up for real swim lessons. It's about time, don't you think?”

“Everyone should know how to swim.”

“So you don't sink,” Sarah added. Her eyes caught Karen's for a few seconds. “Thanks for putting up with me, no, for supporting me, when I get crazy.”

“We all get crazy sometimes. And you've bitten off a lot for a single woman.”

“Is that a hint?”

“Not really. Though it is all over town how you came to Wyatt's defense the other morning at the Brew.”

Sarah shook her head. “I can't believe I did that. But, hell, someone needed to shut the guy up.”

“They're not bad guys; they just get excited, then go all macho and start bragging. Like kids, only bigger.”

Sarah laughed.

“Anything new on the Leila front?”

“Carmen's going through with the appeal. Randy seems to think it's nothing to worry about. I hope he's right.”

“He's done a lot of these cases. I'd listen to him.”

“I guess. I just wish it was over and I had those adoption papers locked away in the safe.”

“Soon,” Karen said.

“From your mouth . . . I thought maybe Reesa would be here today. She hit the beach two weekends in a row. That's got to be some kind of record.”

“She's coming later. I thinks she's going through some stuff, too.”

“About being burned out?”

Karen pulled her chair back up and leaned forward. “I think she and Michael are having problems.”

“Because he's out of work?”

“Because he's not trying to find new work. It sounds to me like he's suffering from depression. But she says he won't go to see anyone, just sits watching the baseball channel all day.”

“That would be depressing,” Sarah said. “So is she planning anything, um, drastic?”

“Well, I don't think she'd mind if I told you. The other night
after you left, she said she was thinking about leaving him. She said she couldn't take both him and her job, and one of them had to go.”

“Ugh. That sounds drastic.”

“She did say she wouldn't quit until she sees Leila settled.”

“Well,” Sarah said. “Selfishly, that's good for me. And maybe time will help her figure out what to do.” She lay back in the chair, closed her eyes.

It seemed she wasn't the only one going through changes. She opened one eye. “Are things okay with you and Stu? I mean, if it's any of my business.”

“Of course it's your business and, yes, I'm still putting up with the dude. He and Rory are having a boys' afternoon out on the driving range.”

“They play golf?”

Karen laughed. “They swing and try to hit the ball. But they have fun. Whatever works.” She looked over at Sarah. “How about you and Wyatt?”

Sarah shrugged. “It's okay, I guess.”

“You guess? You don't know?”

“I don't know. Leila and he are really getting along these days, but I don't know if it will last if she keeps seeing Carmen. She's already started with the tantrums. Yesterday when she came back it was the silent treatment.”

“Normal.”

“I know. I just hate that she has to go through it again.”

“Well, if she starts being afraid of Wyatt, we'll know something is going on in the other house that shouldn't.”

“Yeah, which I pray won't happen. But . . .”

“But . . . ?”

“I don't want it to be so good that she wants to go back.”

“It sucks to be so far along in the process and have this happen.”

“But what if Carmen has gotten it together this time long enough to get her back? I don't want to be unsympathetic, but we've been here before.”

“Something the judge will take into consideration. I'm actually surprised her appeal got this far.”

“Randy said she's saying that her attorney didn't explain that termination meant forever.”

“Bosh. If he didn't, the judge did.”

“So why are we here again?”

“Damned if I know. I hear the ice cream truck; can children demanding money be far behind?”

Sure enough, three little girls ran squealing toward the umbrella. “Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream.”

Karen and Sarah reached for their wallets simultaneously.

“The consolation is that ice cream at the beach mostly melts before they can eat it, saving their teeth and not spoiling their dinner.”

They trudged up the sand to the street and got in line.

“Just in time,” Karen said.

Sarah turned to see Reesa hurrying across the street toward them.

“Man, that girl could use a day at the spa and then a trip to the mall.”

She could,
thought Sarah. Reesa was wearing a pair of ancient clam diggers, a Mexican peasant blouse that looked like tomato sauce had been spilled all over it, and she was lugging a heavy-looking canvas bag more appropriate for books than beachwear.

“What happened to you?” Karen asked.

“Lunch at Hands Around the World.”

“Is that the place the woman in the store was talking about?”

Reesa nodded.

They all stopped to order their ice creams.

“My treat,” Sarah told Reesa.

“Thanks, finding my wallet in this bag has become like the search for the holy grail. I need a job where I can carry a smaller purse.”

“Nah,” Karen said. She unwrapped the girls' ice cream then started on her own. “Jobs with little purses require very high heels. Not worth it.”