Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(53)

“Shall we go?” David asked, not wanting to rush her.

The other boaters were already far ahead. Some had disappeared around the bend; others were slowly strolling, inspecting shells, taking photographs. All enjoying the remote, idyllic island. A squeal caught her attention, and turning, she spotted the two mischievous boys swimming around the rear of the boat, up to no good. Robert was already trotting toward them, calling them back. Cara held back a smile, knowing he’d have his hands full for the next forty minutes. She adjusted Hope’s sun hat and, catching David’s eyes, smiled and took a step forward.

The sand was warm, the sun was hot, and there was just enough of a breeze to keep the insects at bay. David and Cara walked at the children’s slow pace. Hope’s steps were faltering, especially in the soft sand. The tide line was covered with shells of all sorts. Cara kept her gaze to the ground, bending from time to time to pick up a shell, poking in each to make sure she wasn’t stealing the home of some snail. Hope mimicked her, picking up a shell and delighting in putting it in the bag, over and over. The rest of the boaters had moved far off across the island, leaving them the wide swath of beach to themselves. Cara looked around and spied a shallow gully of water beneath the shade of the trees.

“David, there’s a sweet little pool of water in the shade. Let’s let the babies play here. It’s perfect for them.”

David asked Rory, “What do you say, champ? Feel like a swim?”

Cara was restless and not in the mood to talk. David sensed this and didn’t press. After a while of tending the children splashing and crawling, Cara pulled Hope from the pool and dried her.

“David, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go ahead on my own. I need some time alone.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Would you like me to take care of Hope?”

She shook her head. “I’d like to keep her with me. But thanks.”

“I’ll meet you at the boat, then.”

She was grateful for his understanding. David was not the type to sulk.

Cara picked up Hope and began walking along the seemingly endless stretch of narrow beach strewn with large, dark, fallen trees. A few of the dead trees still stood tall like ancient monoliths, their curled and gnarled roots twisting around sand and shells in the open air. It was a ghostly place, desolate in its stark beauty. Brett had thought it the most beautiful spot in the world.

She found what she was looking for. A small creek cut through the sand, a favorite spot of Brett’s to cast a net for shrimp. She turned inland toward the shelter of the trees to a place she knew well. Not too far in, a large dune crested to a flat plateau. It was hard going with Hope in her arms, but Cara dug in her heels, climbed the dune, and stood panting at its peak. The ocean’s breeze caressed her skin, and she looked out over the thicket of shrubs to the mighty blue ocean beyond. This was Brett’s favorite place to pitch his tent. Here was where he’d first made love to her, and it was here, too, that she’d fallen in love with him.

She felt his presence keenly around her. She could almost hear his voice in the wind whispering her name in the trees. Cara lowered to sit on the dune beside Hope. She wanted to lay her head on the sand, stretch out her arms, and weep, as one would mourn at a grave site. Her chest ached from holding it in. But Hope needed her. She was a mother first.

So instead she began to dig a hole to entertain her daughter. She idly scratched the surface with her fingertips, then a bit deeper, when some unexplained urge took hold of her. She began digging, deeper and deeper, clawing the sand, her tender fingertips scraping tiny bits of shell. Putting her hands in the sand grounded her, gave her a place to let her anxiety flow from her brain and her heart out through her fingers into the beach. This was not a game, nor was it like digging a turtle nest. This, she knew, was a kind of grave, the grave she’d never dug for her husband. Brett had been cremated, his ashes sprinkled on the water off Capers, straight out from where she sat now.

Cara’s fingers dug deep to where the sand was cool and moist. Earthy. Beside her, Hope was mimicking her, picking up handfuls of sand and throwing them into the air. The gold band on Cara’s right ring finger caught the sunlight, and she stilled. She held her hand up, her eyes filling with tears.

“Brett,” she called out to him, her voice breaking with emotion. Hope turned her head to look at her, attuned to her mother’s tears. Cara took a breath to try and contain herself for Hope’s sake.

“I love you,” she said aloud. “I miss you every day.” She paused, lowering her hand. She needed to say the words out loud. “Your presence is still so very real. You’re everywhere I go. Everywhere I look.” She reached over to stroke Hope’s arm. “I have a child. At last. And I need her. She’s a gift. Her name is Hope. You would love her.”

Hearing her name, Hope’s eyes grew expectant. Cara reached for the bag of shells and emptied them out in front of the baby. Immediately Hope was enthralled with them.

Cara spoke again. More deliberately. “I’ll always love you. But I have to accept that you are gone. And that I have to move on.” She paused. “I’ve found someone who I think I could love. He’s a lot like you, in so many ways. Good. Kind. Honest. But he’s different, too. He’s not you. And he’s not a substitute you, either. I like him,” she confessed. “Very much.”