Twice in a Lifetime (22 page)

lore her grandmother had planted there over the years. “I don’t think they’ll hatch out until later in the summer. Miz Callie will know. She’ll watch for the signs.”

Lindsay sat still, face averted. This was obviously not about turtles, but if she prodded, Lindsay would retreat further into her shell, protecting herself as one of the loggerheads would.

“That’ll be their birthday,” Lindsay said softly. “When they hatch.”

“I guess so.” She waited for more.

“Where will their mother be on their birthday?”

Georgia was ill-prepared to talk to the child about her mother. She’d done her best when it had come up the day of Lindsay’s party, but obviously her best hadn’t been good enough.

Please, Lord.

“She’ll be out in the ocean. That’s where her nature tells her to be, and that’s where the baby turtles will go when they hatch. And then, when they’re grown up and ready to lay their eggs, they’ll come back to this same beach to make their nests, right back where they were born.”

Those that survive, she added silently. Now was not the time for a lesson on how endangered the loggerhead turtles were.

“My mommy used to tell me the story about when I was born. How my daddy drove her to the hospital, and how

they were so happy when they had a little girl.” Lindsay rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “When Mommy got sick, I prayed that Jesus would make her well. But He didn’t.”

It wasn’t the time for a theology lesson, either; she knew that instinctively. She had to say something that would comfort, but all she could feel was fear that she’d say the wrong thing.

Please, Father. Please give me the words.

“I know your mommy and daddy were the happiest people in the world when you were born.” Now came the hard part, and she tested each word before she spoke. “I don’t think anybody understands why sometimes people don’t get well when we pray for them. But we know that Jesus loves us and will always be with us, no matter how sad or lonely we feel.”

Lindsay swung to face her. “I miss her. Georgia, I miss Mommy so much.”

Her heart seemed to crack as she put her arm around Lindsay’s shoulders and drew her close. “Oh, honey, of course you miss her.”

Lindsay burrowed her face into Georgia’s chest. “I wanted to talk to Daddy about her, but I couldn’t.” Her voice was muffled.

Georgia held her tighter. “Why not, sugar?”

But she already knew. Matt held his grief so close that he couldn’t let anyone in, not even his child.

“It might make him mad,” she whispered.

“Not mad, Lindsay. Just sad, that’s all. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what someone else is feeling, but I know your daddy would never get mad at you for that.”

Oh, Matt. Don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re closing her out.

She smoothed her hand down the curve of Lindsay’s

back, feeling the fragility of tiny bones, the small shoulder blades like a bird’s wings.

“How would it be if I went with you to tell your daddy that you want to talk about your mommy? Is he home this morning?”

Lindsay nodded. The movement seemed to bruise her heart. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I don’t want Daddy to be mad. Or sad. Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“I think you should.” Conviction grew in her. Silence brought barriers between people. She knew. She and her mother were a great example of that.

Lindsay was motionless for a moment. Then she drew back. “Okay. If you promise you’ll go with me.”

Georgia stood, holding out her hand to Lindsay. “I promise.”

Lindsay scrambled to her feet and took Georgia’s hand.

Together they started down the beach.

As they approached the house, Georgia’s breath hitched. Was she doing the right thing?

She was doing the only thing. Someone had to help Matt see what his silence was doing to his daughter, and God had plopped the issue right in her lap.

Are You sure You’ve picked the right person for this job, Lord? You know how I am about confronting people. Hopeless, that’s how. I quake inside. I run away.

If she’d longed for a sense that she could pass this off to someone else, she didn’t get it. Come what may, she had to do this. And what was most likely to come was that Matt would be so furious that whatever existed between them would be extinguished in an instant.

She glanced at Lindsay as they started up the stairs together. One ponytail was slipping to the side, and the part in her hair was slightly crooked. The sight choked Georgia’s throat with unshed tears. This vulnerable child

deserved to have someone speak for her. This time there’d be no running away.

Lindsay tugged at the sliding glass door, and Georgia helped her push it back. Cool air floated out in greeting as they stepped inside.

Matt sat at the desk in the living room, a laptop open in front of him. At the sight of her, his eyebrows lifted in a question.

“Hi, Lindsay. I thought you were out checking turtle nests with Miz Callie.”

Lindsay hesitated, and Georgia could feel the tension that gripped her. “I was. I…I…” She pressed her fingers against her shorts, seeming unable to go on.

Georgia placed a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder. “Lindsay didn’t want to leave the turtle nest, so my grandmother asked me to talk with her.”

Concern darkened the steel blue of Matt’s eyes. He shoved his chair back and reached out a hand toward his daughter. “Lindsay? What’s wrong?”

“I…” Lindsay tilted her face to Georgia, her gaze pleading. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“It’s all right.” She took a deep breath, hoping it would release the stranglehold around her throat, and uttered a wordless prayer. “Lindsay told me she wanted to talk to you about something, but she was afraid it might upset you.”

“My daughter can talk to me about anything.” But even as he said the words, he drew away from them, his body language saying exactly the opposite.

For Lindsay’s sake, she had to go on. “She misses her mommy, and she needs to talk about her. To you.”

Understand, Matt. Please understand.

Lindsay clung to her hand. Without it, she’d probably run from the room. That was exactly how Georgia felt, too.

As for Matt—she could sense the battle that raged within him, even if she didn’t entirely understand it. Surely he could put his child’s welfare ahead of his own feelings. “Lindsay, honey.” He reached for her then, took her hand, drew her close. “We can talk about Mommy if that’s what you want.” His voice was taut with strain, but

it was gentle.

Cautiously, Lindsay reached up to pat his cheek. “Don’t be sad, Daddy.”

He managed a smile, dropped a kiss on her small palm. “I’ll try not to be. Were you feeling sad about Mommy today?”

She nodded. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to forget about her,” she whispered. “I don’t want to.” She sounded panicked. “I don’t want to forget.”

“No, no, of course you don’t.” He put his arms around her, holding her close. “You won’t forget. It’s okay.”

Georgia’s throat closed with tears. This hurt him—she could feel it. But he was doing it. Maybe he needed this as much as Lindsay did.

“Remember how Mommy always told the story about how I was born? Every birthday she told me that story.”

He smoothed his hand over her hair. “I remember,” he said, his voice rough. “Do you want me to tell you?”

She nodded. “Can I get my baby book out to look at while you tell the story, just like me and Mommy did?”

“Sure you can.” He released her, giving her a gentle push toward the stairs. “You run up and get it while I walk Georgia out.”

“Okay.” The smile that dawned on Lindsay’s face was a delight to see. “Thank you, Georgia.”

“You’re welcome, sugar.” She managed to hold her smile until the child turned away. Then all she wanted to do was run.

Matt was furious with her. Maybe he had a right to be. She turned and preceded him out to the deck and down the stairs.

But she’d done the right thing. No matter what it cost her, she’d done the right thing.

His tread was heavy on the steps. She could sense the weight of his emotion—the power of will that held it back until they were out of earshot of his daughter.

At the bottom of the steps, he stopped. “I suppose you think you had to do that.”

It took all the courage she possessed to meet the grief and anger that clouded his eyes. “I’m sorry if that hurt you, but—”

“If?” The word exploded out of him.

Her cheeks burned. “All right. I knew it would be painful. But Lindsay was hurting, too. She confided in me.” She shook her head, longing to reach him, not sure she knew how. “Don’t you see, Matt? She is desperate to talk about her mother to someone, and there’s no one here who knew her. No one but you.”

His jaw clenched at the words, so tightly that it seemed it might break from the pressure. She quailed inside, waiting for an explosion.

It didn’t come. Matt took one careful breath. Then another. “I know you’re trying to help. I appreciate that.”

Encouraged, she longed to reach out and touch him but didn’t quite dare. “She needs you, Matt. She needs you to talk about her mother. If only you could share your grief—”

“No!” Matt grabbed the railing, the tendons of his forearms standing out. “That I can’t do. Don’t you understand?” He threw the words at her angrily.

Only her love for the little girl kept her from backing away. “No, I don’t. Tell me. Or tell someone, if not me. You can’t…”

The words trailed off. Who was she to give advice to someone about grieving? She couldn’t even imagine the

magnitude of his loss. But Lindsay—Lindsay she did understand. And Lindsay needed help.

“You know everything there is to know about my family, I think. And I don’t even know how your wife died.”

“Cancer.” He spit the word out. “Jennifer died of cancer.” He paused, but maybe having said that much made it easier for him to go on. “She was so strong, so brave. Her faith never wavered, right to the very end.”

She didn’t know what to say, and couldn’t have said it if she had known.

He shrugged, his shoulders moving stiffly. “I thought my faith was strong, too, until I was finally alone after the funeral.” He turned to her then. “You know what I did? I fell apart—acted like a total madman. Screamed, broke things, threw things, raged at God.”

“Lindsay…” She whispered the name. “Lindsay was with her grandparents.”

Of course. Certainty built in her. “You wouldn’t have done it if she had been there.”

“You can’t know that.” Fury sparked from his eyes. “Don’t you see? The only way I can be sure of keeping control is to shut it away.” The anger faded, just a little, and he suddenly looked exhausted. “I’ll do what I can to satisfy Lindsay, but I can’t let go of my control.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered the words, sorrow weighing heavily on her. “But I think you’re wrong. I’d better go.” As she turned, he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly. “Don’t, Georgia.” His voice was ragged. “I don’t want to drive you away. I don’t want to lose you. But just don’t ask me to open my heart, because that’s the one thing I can’t do.”

He was offering her something. It was there under the words. A relationship, but one that had strings attached.

Longing filled her heart. If only she could agree, keep silent, anything to preserve what they had.

But she couldn’t. She wasn’t the same person she’d been when she came back to the island. Somehow, through knowing him, through struggling to help Lindsay, through dealing with Miz Callie’s problem, she’d become stronger. Maybe God had led her through this for that purpose.

She couldn’t turn back now, no matter what it cost. Love costs, Miz Callie had said. She was right.

“I’m sorry.” She managed to keep her voice even, but it took an effort. “I can’t settle for that. Not for myself, and not for you.”

He didn’t move. He let go of her hand, and his silence said more than words.

It was over. Feeling her heart splinter in her chest, she turned and walked away.

Chapter Sixteen

G
eorgia drew her car to a stop in front of Beatrice Wilson’s house and hesitated, her hands trembling on the steering wheel. She hadn’t called before coming, sure the woman would hang up at the sound of her voice.

Probably Ms. Wilson would slam the door instead, but she had to try. They were out of options. Beatrice Wilson’s mother was the only person who might know what happened to Ned when he left Charleston all those years ago.

She’d failed with Matt, and she had a gaping hole in her heart as a souvenir of that encounter. Funny that it had taken this very real pain to show her that what she’d felt about the breakup with James had been nothing but damaged pride.

She took a breath, pressing her palms together to still their quivering. She couldn’t do anything about Matt, but maybe she could still salvage something from the wreckage for her grandmother. Georgia slid from the car and headed for the wrought-iron gate in the low brick wall that surrounded the house.

The gate pushed open at a touch, and she walked into a tiny courtyard. The two-story house, set endways to the

street, its veranda facing the courtyard, was classic Charleston in style. A brick path led to the veranda, where the front door’s frosted glass hid the interior. Breathing a silent prayer, Georgia reached for the shell-shaped knocker and let it fall.