Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(36)

Cara laughed softly. “Of course. Now, let’s sneak out of here. You don’t want to meet cranky Hope.”

Linnea didn’t think there was such a creature as “cranky Hope.” She soon learned that that was not true.



LINNEA THOUGHT HOPE was a beguiling girl with her limpid brown eyes and wispy dark brown curls against her light skin. After the baby woke, Cara gave Linnea a tour of Hope’s nursery, where the stash of diapers, clothing, et cetera, were stored, then on to the kitchen to find baby supplies, and finally the living room where she stored the toys.

“It’ll take a few days for you to really get used to being here and create a routine,” Cara told her. “I suspect you’ll both need a few days to adjust. I thought I’d go out and run a few errands. Give you two some time to get acquainted without me in the way.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Linnea told her, smiling into Hope’s face. “We’re best friends already, aren’t we?”

Hope stared back at her doubtfully from her mother’s arms. Cara was wearing a long, flowing skirt and a tank top with a chunky necklace and espadrilles. Linnea, on the other hand, was dressed for babysitting in short yoga pants and a T-shirt and was barefoot. She’d pulled her hair back and her face was scrubbed clean.

When the appointed hour arrived, Cara tried to pass Hope over to her, but Hope began shrieking and clinging to Cara. Linnea felt nervous, wanting to make a good impression. Babies, she quickly learned, didn’t care about impressions.

“I’m sorry—” Linnea began, frustrated at her own ineptness.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Cara said. “Babies cry when they want something. Either they are hungry, which she isn’t. Wet”—Cara made a quick check of Hope’s diaper—“and she isn’t. Or sleepy, which she isn’t. So it simply means she wants something.”

“You.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Cara exhaled, thinking. “Maybe if we get her started playing with her toys,” she suggested. “The power of distraction.”

The two women sat on the floor and began playing with the building blocks and small dolls until Hope grew engrossed. Cara quietly rose to her feet and tried to slip away, but Hope’s radar picked it up. Immediately she swung her head around and called out, “Mama,” abandoned the toys, and began crawling after Cara.

Linnea desperately tried to distract her. She frantically wiggled the doll in her hand and called Hope’s name, all to no effect.

They repeated this pattern two more times before Cara, growing exasperated, finally said, “I think we should just tear the Band-Aid off. You take her in your arms and I’ll say a quick good-bye. I’ll go out to do my errands. Eventually she has to learn that Mama has to work and Mama will come back.” She followed her own advice with action, and shortly the door closed behind her.

Linnea realized in the next few minutes that she really knew nothing about taking care of babies. She’d babysat when she was younger, but the children could walk and talk. Babies were another world. Hope cried and cried and couldn’t be comforted. Linnea tried interesting her in toy after toy, but Hope only grew more frustrated. Her face was pink and tears flowed down her cheeks. Linnea felt helpless. When Hope crawled to her mother’s bedroom door and sat there crying piteously, Linnea’s heart broke.

She began to wonder, Is there something wrong with me? She’d always thought motherhood would come naturally. She’d had no idea that it could be so agonizingly hard. Or that she’d feel not only frustration but fear. What was she doing wrong? She ran to get her laptop and googled how to handle a baby crying. Scanning the list, she found she’d already tried most of the helpful tips. The one that hit home reassured her to stay calm.

Linnea thought Hope would self-soothe and tire of crying eventually, but twenty minutes later she was only gaining steam. The walls were closing in on her with Hope’s screams echoing. The canary, of course, thought the crying was marvelous and was singing his heart out. It was mayhem. Linnea was near to bursting into tears herself.

What would Cara do? Linnea wondered. Then she knew it was time to take charge.

“Come on, sugar,” she called out in a cheery voice as she made her way through the pile of toys scattered across the floor to Hope, who’d pulled herself up and was standing at her mother’s door. “We’re going outside!”

She picked up the stiff-legged child and first wiped her face of tears, kissing her frequently. She slipped into sandals, grabbed the beach bag of supplies, and carried Hope out the porch door into the sunlight. It was another in a line of gorgeous summer days on the island. The sun was shining in a clear sky, and it was neither too hot nor too humid. Linnea saw the blue ocean’s soothing, rolling surf, and immediately she felt the tension lessen. The serene, twinkling water stretched out to infinity.

Then it struck her—Hope had stopped crying! No longer stiff, the child had relaxed comfortably into her arms. Her dark eyes, a bit puffy from crying, were calm now as she looked out toward the sea. A whisper of a breeze ruffled her soft curls and, blinking, Hope smiled at the sensation.

Linnea’s heart bloomed with love for her. “You’re a kindred spirit, aren’t you?” She squeezed the baby. “Let’s go to the sea. It’s calling us!”