Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(16)

Cara leaned back in the chair and smiled, remembering those golden years. They’d gone by quickly. Everything had changed when Cara graduated from high school. She’d started making plans of her own—plans that didn’t correlate with those of her father.

It came to a head during an epic battle when she was only eighteen. Cara had left her home, Charleston, and all she knew and headed north. She was on her own without one dime to rub against another. But she wasn’t afraid. She was hell-bent on succeeding. She was smart, and more, she was a hard worker.

Her first job had been as a receptionist at Leo Burnett, a major advertising firm in Chicago; gradually Cara had earned her way up the ladder to become an account executive, getting her college degree after years of tedious night school. And then, suddenly, it was over. After twenty years of mainlining work at the expense of her personal life, she’d been ignominiously let go in a major power shift at the agency.

That was when she’d come home to her mother. Once again, Cara had rebuilt her life, giving up the bright lights of the city for the moonlight and sunshine of the lowcountry. She’d met and then married the love of her life. She’d been happy. Then, just when things were going smoothly, her husband had died in a cruel twist of fate, and Cara was alone once more. She’d picked herself up off the floor and left the lowcountry to find new meaning in her life. And she’d ultimately found it in the form of a twenty-three-pound little girl. For Hope’s sake, she would be careful and make do until she landed a few more clients. Her decisions for the future would always put Hope in the forefront. With her daughter, Cara would never be alone again.

This thought gave her the motivation to shake off the sleepiness and focus on the tasks at hand. Fatigue was never good for one’s work ethic.

An hour later, she heard the faint sound of Hope’s call: “Mama!”

Cara lowered her head into her palm. Not yet, she thought. Hope wasn’t supposed to awaken for another hour. Cara had two conference calls scheduled for later in the day and needed to prepare. Hope was teething and had woken four times in the night.

Beside her, Moutarde heard the cries and began chirping with excitement, hopping from perch to perch. Cara closed the computer and rose to fetch her daughter.

By 10 a.m. Hope was changed, dressed, fed, and playing on the floor. Cara knew this peace was short-lived. Soon Hope would be crawling to a new location, trying to stick her finger in an electrical socket or some other such dangerous game. Cara needed coverage for her phone calls. With desperation she reached for her phone and dialed the only person who she knew could help.

“Hello?”

“Emmi? It’s me. Cara. Listen, I have to get work done and I’m just not managing with Hope crawling about. She wants me to play with her all the time and she isn’t napping.”

“You sound frazzled.”

“I’m just so tired. She gets up at the crack of dawn and wakes up during the night. I need sleep. But I need to work more. Emmi, do you know someone I can call to babysit?”

“Oh, gosh, Cara. I’ve been out of that game for a long time. And”—she rushed on—“I can’t. I have to go to work.”

“I know you can’t. I was just hoping you knew someone who might babysit. Or just take pity on me for a few hours?”

“What about Heather?”

“I wish. She’s out of town.”

Emmi exhaled heavily after a moment’s thought. “I’m sorry, I can’t think of anyone. Most women I know are either working or volunteering.”

Cara sighed. She needed someone today if she was going to get those résumés out and be ready by the deadline. “What about Flo? Is she busy today?”

“Flo? Honey, Flo’s eighty years old.”

“So? She seems plenty sharp to me. Certainly capable of watching a small child.”

There was a long pause. “I don’t know,” Emmi replied slowly. “It might be too much for her.” She lowered her voice. “Here’s the thing . . .” She hesitated again. “Flo’s . . . not herself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Emmi began uncomfortably, “you remember Miranda, don’t you?”

“Flo’s mother? Of course I do.”

“Do you remember how she started to wander off looking for turtles? And how Flo would get all worried and we’d all run out and search the beach?”

“Good Lord, Emmi. Is Flo wandering off?”

“No! Not yet, anyway. But she forgets things more.”

“We all do!” Cara felt enormous relief. “She’s just getting older.”

“True,” Emmi replied with a light laugh. “I can’t remember names at all anymore. I recognize the person, but the name? Gone. But,” she continued in a more serious tone, “it’s not just names with Flo. Her mind wanders too. Honestly, I just don’t know if it’s safe to leave a baby with her.”

“I won’t leave the baby with her. I’ll be in the next room. I just need another pair of eyes. Someone to play with Hope so I can work.”

Emmi sighed. “I guess that’s okay. Anyway, she’s in the kitchen. Hold on. I’ll fetch her. Oh, wait, I almost forgot. I’m having a little party tomorrow night. Just family and friends. I want to welcome Hope.”