Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(27)

Cara would never do that, of course. For her the beach house was a sacred place, just as much as it had been to her mother. There was no amount of money that would tempt her to sell it. She’d traveled off, true. But her name was Caretta. And like the sea turtle she was named after, she came home to nest. And this time, she wasn’t going to leave.

Her muscles burned as her heels dug into the soft sand while carrying the added twenty-three pounds of Hope. Shame on me for not walking more, she chided herself. There was no excuse for being a hermit while living on the beach! At last she reached the end of the path and stood at the top of the dune. She lifted her chin, breathed deep the salty air, and stared out at the water. Sky and sea blended together at the horizon line to create a seamless blue so vivid she heard her breath release as a sigh. Cara had always come to the sea to relieve stress, to gather her thoughts, to recharge her batteries. It was a great peace she felt in every cell of her body.

Hope felt it too. She was smiling, her eyes dancing with happiness. Buoyed with joy, Cara hoisted her up higher in her arms and continued down the dunes to the beach. This early in the morning, there were only an older woman in a pink jogging suit walking her chocolate Lab off-leash and a young man jogging close to the surf. She carried Hope to the shoreline and set her down, expecting her to balk at the strange feel of the sand. But this child was a little turtle. Hope didn’t hesitate at all. She crawled straight for the sea. Cara was right behind her, laughing, as Hope scrambled like any hatchling into the waves. When a gentle wave slapped her face, she didn’t cry; she laughed! Cara scooped her up in her arms and twirled her around, relishing the sound of her laughter.

Brett would have loved this, she thought, then squeezed Hope tighter.



THE FOLLOWING DAY Cara took Hope to the park. She sprayed insect repellent on both herself and Hope. The mosquitoes were so fierce and big this summer she was sure one could carry Hope off. She loaded up the stroller with the bag of bottles, biscuits, and diapers, and they were off on another adventure.

The traffic on the island wasn’t too bad midweek. She cruised along Palm Boulevard, seeing neighbors planting flowers and crews mowing. She took the S turn by the church and soon turned inland into the shade of towering live oak trees lining the street. At the end of the road young boys were clustered around a baseball diamond in the grass. The tennis courts were filled too. She heard the muffled grunts of serving. It was a perfect morning to be outdoors. The sky was blue, the humidity low, and the temperature not too hot. She lifted Hope from the stroller and made her way across the soft playground mulch to buckle her into a swing. She gave a hearty push and was rewarded with a gurgling laugh from Hope.

A sweet-faced girl no older than five walked up to the bigger swing. With her long pigtails slipping out of their elastics, a smattering of freckles, and the scab on her knee, she looked like Pippi Longstocking. She climbed onto the seat and kicked her legs mightily, but the swing barely budged. Cara looked to the other side of the park where a young mother was strapping an infant into a carrier.

“Want some help?” Cara asked the girl.

The little girl nodded gratefully. Cara walked behind her and gave her a couple of good pushes to get her going. She smiled, listening to the young girl’s laughter as she flew high into the sky.

“Are you having a good time?” Cara called out to the little girl.

“Yes!” she called back.

“What’s your name?”

“Maddie.”

Looking over again, she caught the mother’s eye. The woman smiled and waved gratefully. Cara felt a first flush of inclusion into the motherhood club.

“Is that your mama over there?”

Jessica looked to where Cara pointed, and nodded. “Yeah. She’s with my baby brother. He cries a lot.”

She pushed the girl a few more times and then returned to Hope. When the girl’s swing slowed once more, she climbed down, already bored. Jessica hung around a few minutes longer, hanging on the poles, watching them. Then she pointed to Hope. “Is that your baby?”

“Yes. Her name is Hope.”

“Are you the baby’s grandma?”

A little part of Cara’s self-esteem withered with her smile. She didn’t think she dressed differently or looked much older than the child’s mother across the playground. She was shocked that an innocent question could make her feel so insecure.

“No,” she replied. “I’m her mama.”

“Oh.” The little girl’s perplexed look quickly disappeared, her curiosity sated. When her mother called her name, Jessica took off running, calling, “Bye!”

Cara was relieved to see her go. The sweet child had suddenly become annoying. Cara chided herself for being sensitive. She had to face the fact that though she might feel like that thirty-year-old mother, she wasn’t thirty anymore. She looked again at Hope in the swing. Was she too old? she worried. Would her daughter ever look at her and wonder why her mother looked older than her friends’ mothers?

Hope was smiling gleefully, kicking her legs, demanding another push.

Cara couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on her face. At least for now, Hope didn’t care if she was young or old. Perhaps years from now, when she was in school, she might wonder. Cara knew that the day would come when Hope would have many questions. Including who her birth mother was.

Cara gave Hope another push. She would deal with those questions later. For now, these precious moments were fleeting. She took a cleansing breath, and looked out across the park. A tall man was pushing a stroller toward them across the great expanse of grass. He was nattily dressed in dark jeans and a blue-and-white-checked shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Though he was youthful in appearance, his salt-and-pepper hair hinted he was either a grandfather or an older parent, like her. Except, she thought with chagrin, he probably had a younger wife . . . a trophy wife. She tried not to stare as he approached, but something about him seemed vaguely familiar. He was wearing aviator sunglasses, which made it harder to tell if she knew him. She absently gave Hope another push.