knotted belly.
The same old question haunted her: why hadn’t Sarah returned her calls?
For the thousandth time, she turned and reached for the phone on the counter, a corded landline she’d had since Sarah had been in diapers. Its beige plastic body matched the peeling wallpaper, an ecru damask pattern that yellowed a little more every year.
Pick up, pick up, pick up. She willed Sarah from God only knew how many miles away as the phone rang.
Nothing. Like her prayers, the call went unanswered.
She looked around the kitchen. It had once been her favorite room in the house, but now she saw it for what it was: a dingy alcove, as suffocating as a chamber in a rabbit warren. The countertops were stained and the cupboards scuffed, the linoleum and appliances dated. A box fan whirred in the only window, a substitute for the air conditioner that’d given up the ghost weeks ago.
Alone in the shabby heart of her home, she felt the solitude as keenly as she felt the sweat dampening her armpits and the back of her neck. Misery. It had become her constant companion, as suffocating as the Carolina summer humidity.
She didn’t even cook for herself anymore. Not really. Subsisting mostly off of cereal and frozen foods, she ate only when she remembered to, which wasn’t always often. The longer her daughter was gone, the less of an appetite she seemed to have.
Sarah had always been a difficult child, but she was Beverly’s only legacy, no matter how heartbreaking. She couldn’t give up, no matter how many things had gone wrong lately.
She would get in touch. Would make things as right as they ever could be. Would bring Sarah back to make their house a home again. Despite her mistakes, Beverly would welcome her with open arms. Children were gifts, and she never let herself forget that.
She needed to remember. The world needed to remember. Family was everything.
* * * * *
Guilt swamped Jeremy as he pulled into the public parking lot at Sea Glass Beach. The day was gorgeous and so was Lucia, who rode in the passenger seat of his car. Paige sat in the back with a bag full of towels and sunblock.
As he pulled the key from the ignition, he was fully aware that he may have overstepped a line by inviting Lucia to the beach. Looking back, he’d more or less obligated her to come.
He’d wanted more time with her. For himself and for Paige, who’d taken a liking to her. But what right did he have to ask for it, just because they’d come so close to sleeping together?
Lucia hadn’t offered anything more than physical intimacy and he knew it. He had Paige and his job – those responsibilities didn’t leave him with the kind of time a woman deserved from a man. He’d told her as much, and they’d agreed to seek pleasure in what little time he had.
Just like he’d done with the last woman who’d touched him. He knew he was lucky to get that much from Lucia, but that truth hadn’t stopped him from riding the coattails of Liam’s invitation and encouraging her to join them that weekend.
Sweet as she was, Lucia had agreed. Now, here they were.
“What a gorgeous day,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “The water looks calm, too.”
He nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. Her being so sweet about all of it only made his guilt that much more poignant.
Was she really so glad to be there, acting like there was something more between them than there really was?
Acting like they were a family, really.
Maybe he hadn’t just overstepped a boundary; maybe he’d steamrolled over it.
And she was too nice to put him in his place.
“How strong of a swimmer are you, Paige?” Lucia asked.
Paige climbed out of the car and shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Want to race?”
“Out there?” She nodded toward the water.
“Yep.”
“Umm…” She stood frozen on the asphalt as Jeremy exited the car and pulled the bag of beach towels from the back. “I don’t like to swim out too far.”
“Not even if you have someone
The same old question haunted her: why hadn’t Sarah returned her calls?
For the thousandth time, she turned and reached for the phone on the counter, a corded landline she’d had since Sarah had been in diapers. Its beige plastic body matched the peeling wallpaper, an ecru damask pattern that yellowed a little more every year.
Pick up, pick up, pick up. She willed Sarah from God only knew how many miles away as the phone rang.
Nothing. Like her prayers, the call went unanswered.
She looked around the kitchen. It had once been her favorite room in the house, but now she saw it for what it was: a dingy alcove, as suffocating as a chamber in a rabbit warren. The countertops were stained and the cupboards scuffed, the linoleum and appliances dated. A box fan whirred in the only window, a substitute for the air conditioner that’d given up the ghost weeks ago.
Alone in the shabby heart of her home, she felt the solitude as keenly as she felt the sweat dampening her armpits and the back of her neck. Misery. It had become her constant companion, as suffocating as the Carolina summer humidity.
She didn’t even cook for herself anymore. Not really. Subsisting mostly off of cereal and frozen foods, she ate only when she remembered to, which wasn’t always often. The longer her daughter was gone, the less of an appetite she seemed to have.
Sarah had always been a difficult child, but she was Beverly’s only legacy, no matter how heartbreaking. She couldn’t give up, no matter how many things had gone wrong lately.
She would get in touch. Would make things as right as they ever could be. Would bring Sarah back to make their house a home again. Despite her mistakes, Beverly would welcome her with open arms. Children were gifts, and she never let herself forget that.
She needed to remember. The world needed to remember. Family was everything.
* * * * *
Guilt swamped Jeremy as he pulled into the public parking lot at Sea Glass Beach. The day was gorgeous and so was Lucia, who rode in the passenger seat of his car. Paige sat in the back with a bag full of towels and sunblock.
As he pulled the key from the ignition, he was fully aware that he may have overstepped a line by inviting Lucia to the beach. Looking back, he’d more or less obligated her to come.
He’d wanted more time with her. For himself and for Paige, who’d taken a liking to her. But what right did he have to ask for it, just because they’d come so close to sleeping together?
Lucia hadn’t offered anything more than physical intimacy and he knew it. He had Paige and his job – those responsibilities didn’t leave him with the kind of time a woman deserved from a man. He’d told her as much, and they’d agreed to seek pleasure in what little time he had.
Just like he’d done with the last woman who’d touched him. He knew he was lucky to get that much from Lucia, but that truth hadn’t stopped him from riding the coattails of Liam’s invitation and encouraging her to join them that weekend.
Sweet as she was, Lucia had agreed. Now, here they were.
“What a gorgeous day,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “The water looks calm, too.”
He nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. Her being so sweet about all of it only made his guilt that much more poignant.
Was she really so glad to be there, acting like there was something more between them than there really was?
Acting like they were a family, really.
Maybe he hadn’t just overstepped a boundary; maybe he’d steamrolled over it.
And she was too nice to put him in his place.
“How strong of a swimmer are you, Paige?” Lucia asked.
Paige climbed out of the car and shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Want to race?”
“Out there?” She nodded toward the water.
“Yep.”
“Umm…” She stood frozen on the asphalt as Jeremy exited the car and pulled the bag of beach towels from the back. “I don’t like to swim out too far.”
“Not even if you have someone
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