Beach Baby

“The last thing I want is for Reid to give up on becoming a writer,” Nina said. She smiled her thanks to the maid who’d silently removed her salad and replaced it with salmon. “But does he need to go to university to do that? And if he did quit to get a job, would it have to be such a poor one? Couldn’t he work for Mr. Robertson and write on the side?”

Exactly what kind of work Reid might do for his father, Nina had only a vague idea. The Robertson family had made their money several generations ago in the mining industry and now were diversified into many areas including property development and light manufacturing.

“Those two men!” Serena shook her head with an exasperated sigh and a conspiratorial smile that suggested she and Nina were allies. “These days they’re like a couple of bull moose butting antlers in the forest. Reid is determined to be independent. Reginald point-blank refuses to give Reid a job if he quits university to get married. Not that Reid expects or even wants to work for his father but he would do it for the baby. If his father would agree, which he won’t. Nor will Reginald give Reid any money to continue university if he marries. So you see, my dear, Reid is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.”

“I’ll go away,” Nina blurted. “I’ll have the baby on my own. When Reid’s finished studying we can be together.”

Even as she said it, she wondered how she would manage. Her father had lost his job as a longshoreman and his unemployment benefits had run out. Leo’s pride prevented him from applying for welfare and Nina had inherited the same stubborn conviction that a person should support herself. The family couldn’t live on what her mother made cleaning houses; they’d been counting on Nina finding a job and bringing in income. That was before she got pregnant.

“My dear, you know Reid,” Serena said, her smooth, confiding tone honeyed with a mother’s indulgent smile. “With his strong sense of responsibility—quite remarkable in someone so young—he would never allow you to do that.”

What she said was true, Nina realized. Reid would put her and the baby first, even if it was to his disadvantage.

“Please don’t think it’s you Reginald and I object to,” Serena went on. “Or your family. It’s just that you and Reid are so young. You’ve got your whole lives ahead of you. But if you and he marry and have a baby…” She trailed away, having already painted Nina a bleak picture of the future.

Serena was right. It would be a disaster for Reid. The last thing she wanted was to hold him back, or worse, have him hate and resent her. And she didn’t think she could raise her baby without him. Nina put down her knife and fork, too sick at heart to eat any more of the exquisite food.

“But what can I do?” Nina said. “It’s too late for me to have an abortion. And I wouldn’t want to, anyway.” She was only four months along but already she had a fierce love for her little sweetpea.

With a sympathetic smile, Serena reached across the table and placed a manicured hand atop Nina’s. “There’s a lovely couple in our sailing club, Jim and Elaine Hocking. They’re a little older and can’t have children of their own. Your mother knows them—she cleans their house. Jim and Elaine would give your baby a warm, loving home with every advantage.”

Surrounded by fine china and old silver, with the scent of roses wafting through the open window on the warm breeze, Nina began to cry. She thought about her situation and knew she wanted the best for her baby. And she knew, too, that that was something she couldn’t give.

Still feeling a gentle pressure on her fingers, Nina swallowed. Then she heard her name spoken, bringing her back to the present. It was Dora who was squeezing her hand.

“With all my heart I wish your father and I had been able to talk you out of giving up your baby,” Dora said. “If only you’d accepted Reid’s proposal—”

“Marrying Reid wasn’t an option.” Agitated, Nina paced the small space between table and stove. “All he ever dreamed of was being a writer. If we’d married he’d have ended up flipping burgers and wondering which he hated more, his job or me. Cutting him loose was the best thing I ever did. For all of us.”

When Reid had come home from Yale for the birth and found out she’d given up their baby for adoption, they’d had a raging fight. Before her eyes, she saw his love for her shrivel and fade, like a wisp of black smoke. She’d felt angry then, too, and betrayed. After giving up their baby for his sake and for the sake of their future together, she’d lost his love anyway. Her sacrifice had been for nothing. Now all she had left were regrets.

Forget Reid. Forget his quirky smile and intelligent eyes, the way he made her laugh, the way he’d made her shiver and burn when his hands moved over her skin.

Forget Reid? Nina sighed. She’d never managed that.

“Why did—?” she began then stopped. “I don’t even know her name.”

“Amy,” Dora replied.

“Amy,” Nina repeated. In her heart she’d always thought of her as sweetpea. That is, when she allowed herself to think of her at all. “Why did she run away?”

“She found out accidentally that she wasn’t Elaine and Jim’s biological child and was angry at them for not telling her she was adopted.”

“How did she find out?”

Dora hesitated. “She gave birth to a child of her own, a little girl,” Dora said. “She had complications and—”

“Wait a minute—Amy had a baby?” Nina whirled to face Dora. “I’m a grandmother?”

“And I’m a great grandmother.” Dora blinked as if she could hardly believe it, either. “The child is nearly a year old. She’s called Bea or something. I didn’t quite catch it.”

“I’m thirty-seven,” Nina said. “Which means Amy would have been only—” quickly she did the mental calculations “—eighteen when she had her baby.” Nina leaned her head against her hands. Like mother, like daughter. She tried to imagine Amy as an adult, but the face was a blank. Stabbed by that terrible sense of loss all over again, Nina asked, “Did she give her baby up for adoption, too?”

“No, she left home to live with the baby’s father then she quarreled with him and came out west.” Dora bit her bottom lip. “She asked Elaine for your contact details and Elaine called me wanting to know if she should give Amy your name and address. I hadn’t heard from Elaine since they moved back east. It’s a good thing you’ve never managed to convince your dad and me to move to a fancy apartment or she might not have found us.”

Nina looked up. “Did you give her my phone number?”

“I wouldn’t do that without consulting you,” Dora said. “But I did manage to wangle Amy’s local address out of Elaine.”

Her daughter was no longer a hazy memory consigned to the past but a real person confronting her in the here and now, maybe asking hard questions like Why didn’t Nina find a way to keep her? Despite having sworn off chocolate, Nina fumbled in the box and popped a rich dark piece in her mouth.

The back door opened and Leo Kennerly came in from the yard. “Nina, I didn’t know you were here.”

Leo worked as a handyman and gardener these days. His blond hair was graying but his blue eyes were still sharp; his work shirt was worn but his shoulders were still broad. He took a can of beer from the fridge and popped the tab.

Nina rose to greet him with a kiss on his cheek. “Mom was telling me about Amy.”

Leo took a long drink of his beer then pressed the cold can against his sweaty neck. “I’d think twice before you interfere in the girl’s life. She’s not your responsibility.”

“I don’t want to interfere,” Nina said. “She wants to meet me and I’d like to meet her.”

“This isn’t about obligation, Leo,” Dora said. “It’s about connecting with your own flesh and blood.”

“Amy’s upset with the Hockings for lying to her,” Leo said. “How do you know she’s not angry with Nina for giving her up as a baby?”

“You’ve got a point,” Nina conceded. “Amy might feel I abandoned her.” What if Amy rejected her? She didn’t know if she could bear it.

“If Amy was angry she wouldn’t come looking for you, Nina,” Dora countered. “She deserves to know her biological family. Jim and Elaine never should have kept that from her.”

“The Hockings are her real parents,” Leo said. “With Nina the link is only genetic, bits of DNA she has in common with Amy.”

“You don’t mean that,” Dora protested. “Family is family.”

Leo put his arm around Nina’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I just don’t want Nina to get hurt.”

“And I want her to know the joy of having a daughter.” Dora’s face softened into a smile. “And a granddaughter.”

Nina broke free of her father’s embrace and raised her hands to halt the exchange. “Dad, I know you want the best for me but if I can do anything for my daughter at all, even if it’s only to satisfy her curiosity, then I want to make up for the lost years. Mom, do you have her address?”

Dora rose and went to the notepad beside the phone and tore off a slip of paper. “Here it is.”

Nina raised her eyebrows when she saw the street name in the upmarket beachside community where she’d met Reid so many years ago. “Is she renting? How can she afford that area?”

“I, uh, believe she’s staying with a friend of Jim and Elaine’s,” Dora said. Leo choked on his beer.

“Are you all right, Dad?” Nina asked.

“He’s fine.” Dora thumped him on the back and threw him a warning glare.

Nina wondered briefly what that was all about but she didn’t have time to find out. She stuffed the paper into her purse and glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late for my show.”

“Call me as soon as you’ve made contact.” Dora put her arm around her daughter’s waist and walked her to the door. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Nina paused on the steps and turned to her mother. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

“Of course she will. Everything’s going to be okay,” Dora said, hugging her. “Call me soon, okay?”

When Nina had gone, Dora went back to the kitchen and sat in front of her chocolate box, pretending to study the guide on the lid.

“As if you don’t know what’s beneath every swirl and squiggle,” Leo said. He straddled a chair and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell Nina that Amy’s staying with Reid Robertson?”

Dora shrugged, averting her gaze. “She didn’t ask.”

“Dora.” Leo shook his head. “That’s as bad as a lie.”

“Oh, Leo.” Dora laid a loving work-roughened hand on his leathery cheek. “Nina will find it hard enough to face her daughter. You know perfectly well she’d never go out there if she knew she might run into Reid.”

CHAPTER TWO

LUKE MANN WAS LYING wounded in an abandoned warehouse next door to the safe house, the envelope undelivered. Reid hadn’t the foggiest notion how the agent was going to get out alive. Ever since Amy and Beebee had arrived a week ago, neither he nor Luke had made much progress.

Reid’s gaze kept drifting from the monitor to the window overlooking the beach and the broad curving bay. The tide had receded a mile or more; children waded in pools between sandbars, and shorebirds with long narrow beaks prodded the sand for worms and mud shrimp.

Beebee’s strawberry curls popped up from behind a log. The little girl’s chubby limbs beneath her pink sundress were bare and already turning brown after a week in the sun. She toddled a few steps before crouching to pick up a shell embedded in the coarse gray sand.

Reid smiled when she sat down abruptly to examine her treasure. Beebee was adorable—until she was frightened or thwarted, then look out. The kid had a pair of lungs an opera diva would envy.

A moment later Reid was frowning, scanning the beach. Where the heck was Amy? It wouldn’t be the first time Beebee had gotten out of the house and wandered off by herself. Keeping a watchful eye on the little girl, Reid moved to the side window from where he could see another angle of the beach. Still no sign of Amy.

Beebee stood and continued her meandering progress down the sandy beach. Muttering under his breath, Reid thrust his bare feet into sandals and went through the family room and out the open French doors to cross the lawn. As he dropped over the retaining wall onto the sand, Daisy overtook him and galloped ahead.

Reid caught up to the toddler in a few strides. “Beebee!”

A sunny smile lit her round face. “Weed!”

Dropping to a crouch, Reid nudged Daisy and her slurping tongue aside and brushed off the grains of sand stuck to Beebee’s cheek. “Where’s Mommy?”

“Me find shell,” Beebee said happily, thrusting the broken cockle under his nose.

“Very nice,” he said. “Let’s go show your mom.” Getting to his feet, he took her hand and started leading her back to the house.

Beebee followed, chatting away. He lifted her over the low concrete wall and carried her through the house, calling to Amy. He came to the ground-floor bedroom she shared with Beebee and pushed open the door. Amy was pacing between the crib and the bed, speaking to someone on the telephone.

“So I have an appointment this morning?” she said, her eyes alight with excitement. “Cool! Thanks again.” Amy hung up and turned to Reid.

“Look who I found wandering down the beach,” he said.

“Beebee, you naughty girl,” Amy scolded gently and tried to take her daughter.

“Me find shell,” Beebee informed her, showing no inclination to leave Reid’s arms.

Reid readjusted his hold on the sun-warmed little girl and she snuggled into his side. “I’ll put a hook on the French doors,” he told Amy. “In the meantime, you should keep a better eye on Beebee. She could have been lost or drowned.”

“I put her in her playpen in the living room. She must have climbed out.” Amy twined one long golden lock around her finger. “Can you do me a big favor?”

“Maybe,” Reid said warily, thinking he could guess what was coming after overhearing her phone conversation.

“Can you look after Beebee for a couple of hours?” Amy asked. “I have a job interview.”

“How long will you be?” His publisher’s deadline was looming and he was way behind on his weekly page quota.

“A couple of hours, three at most,” Amy said. “Please, Reid, just this once. An L.A. production company is filming a movie in Vancouver and they’re looking for extras. They pay a hundred dollars a day and guarantee at least ten days work. You know I could use the money.”

Beebee was wriggling in his arms so Reid set her on the floor. She toddled off to put her shell among her growing collection on the windowsill.

“Okay, go ahead.” He transferred his gaze to Beebee. “Looks like it’s you and me, squirt.” She glanced up at him with a trusting toothy grin that would have softened the hardest heart. God knows, it reduced his to a puddle.

Amy bestowed Reid with a brilliant smile. “Thank you. You’re seriously cool for an old dude.”

“Amy,” he began. “There’s something we need to talk about.” He’d spoken to Elaine on the phone yesterday and she’d given him the go-ahead to tell Amy who he was but between his book, Beebee and helping Amy with job applications, he hadn’t found a quiet moment to talk.

“Can it wait until I get back?” she said. “I’m already late.” Without waiting for an answer, she bent to hug Beebee. “Be a good girl for Reid and don’t run away again. I’ll see you both in a little while. Wish me luck.”

“Sure,” Reid said, ashamed of his relief at the temporary reprieve. “Break a leg.”

Lunchtime came. Reid piled phone books on a kitchen chair and sat Beebee down with a peanut-butter sandwich and a glass of milk. She ate out the insides, smearing her face with peanut butter and leaving the crusts. Daisy wagged her tail hopefully, never taking her eyes off the dangling strips of bread.

Tara glided into the kitchen looking tired and disgruntled in spite of her immaculately pressed mint-green T-shirt and beige shorts. She rummaged in the fridge for an orange and grumbled to Reid, “The kid woke me up at six this morning.”

“Tawa!” With a grin, Beebee offered the tattered remnants of her sandwich to the older girl.

Despite herself, an answering smile tugged at the corners of Tara’s mouth but she frowned and replied brusquely, “Beebee eat.” Rolling her eyes at her father she added, “She’s got me talking like a two-year-old.” Tara peeled her orange over the sink, fastidiously placing each scrap of peel into the garbage as it came off. “There are toys and laundry all over the living-room floor. That was Mom’s favorite room.”

“We never use it since she passed away,” Reid said quietly. “Maybe it’s time someone did.” He handed Beebee her milk. She slurped it, dribbling most of it down her chin. Reid wiped her face with a cloth and said to Tara, “I remember when you were this age. You were so neat you hated having a mess on your face or hands.”

“I still do.” Tara pulled apart the juicy segments with her fingertips and shook the drips off before popping one into her mouth. “Why did Amy come here, anyway?” Tara demanded. “How long are they going to stay?”

Reid hesitated. Tara deserved to know the truth, too, but telling her before he talked to Amy didn’t seem right.

“I don’t know how long they’ll be here,” Reid said at last. “Amy’s looking for work and that takes time. She’s a little mixed up right now. I wish you’d be more friendly. You used to look up to her when we lived in Halifax.”

“Yeah, well, I was just a kid back then. Anyway, it’s not like I knew her that well. Most of the time when you went to see the Hockings, you went on your own.”

“My family knew them when they lived in Vancouver,” Reid explained. “Your mom didn’t have the same connection.” Or interest, he added silently.

“Whatever,” Tara said. “I’m going to the community center with Libby after lunch to see what they’ve got for summer art courses. Can you drive us?”

“I would but I have to look after Beebee and we haven’t got a car seat for her.”

“Yesterday you couldn’t take me to the mall because you had to help Amy with her résumé,” Tara complained.

“The mall isn’t far,” Reid pointed out. “Amy walked from there carrying Beebee and a duffel bag.”

Tara blew out an explosive breath. “You think Amy’s so great! She’s got her stuff all over the bathroom, she won’t eat anything we eat and now she’s got you babysitting. Everything’s changed since she arrived.” Tara glared at him. “She’s taken over our house.”

She’s taken over you. Tara couldn’t have said it more clearly if she’d spoken the words. Reid was seeing another side to his quiet sweet-natured daughter. He shouldn’t be surprised she was jealous of the time he spent with Amy and Beebee; she’d had him all to herself for three years since Carol had died.

“Her parents are old friends and I’ve known Amy since she was a baby. Putting her up for a couple of weeks until she sorts herself out doesn’t seem too much to ask.”

Tara rinsed off her hands and dried them. “She’d better be home in time for us to go to my violin recital tonight. You can’t bring that baby.”

“I know,” Reid assured her. “I’m sure Amy’ll be home any minute.”

After lunch Reid tucked Beebee into bed for a nap and went back to work. At first he kept an ear out for Amy but as time passed and she didn’t return, he got deeper and deeper into his story.

“Where my mommy?” Beebee suddenly spoke at his elbow.

Reid started. Still engrossed in his narrative, he answered distractedly, “She’ll be home soon.”

Beebee tugged on his sleeve and Reid dragged his gaze away from the monitor to see her staring at him with bright blue unblinking eyes. “Want Mommy.”

Out in the bay, water covered the sandbars and wind surfers skimmed the white-flecked waves. He glanced at his watch. Four o’clock. The tide was in but Amy wasn’t.

By six o’clock Tara was in a flap. Her recital was at seven and they needed twenty minutes to drive to the hall. After tears and angry words, she called a friend for a ride and stomped out the door without Reid.

After dinner, Reid sat on the couch with Beebee on his lap and switched on Nina’s current-affairs show. Tonight she was interviewing a man who’d narrowly missed being hit by a chunk of meteorite that had fallen through his roof while he’d been eating breakfast.

“That’s your grandma,” he whispered into Beebee’s ear.

Nina had done something different to her hair. The chin-length blond strands had been tweaked into a wayward whimsical style. The sparkle in her eye, her vivacious laughter had her guest hanging on her every word. And the way that red suit clung to her figure—she and Amy could have been sisters. Reid had to admit, Nina still had it.

Sometimes he thought about calling her and getting together for a drink, for old times’ sake. Then he remembered how the old times had ended and realized that wouldn’t be such a good idea. Anyway, she was probably happily married, with a family.

Amy would be thrilled to find out her biological mother was in the entertainment business. For Amy’s sake, he prayed that Nina would be as thrilled to hear from her daughter. Elaine had told him she’d given his address to Nina’s mother. He’d waited for Nina to call but so far nothing. Maybe she wasn’t interested in meeting their daughter. Or maybe his presence put her off. Regardless, he had to tell Amy the truth tonight. Surely he could find the words to make her realize how much he cared, how the lie had been forced upon him….

He glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock and Amy still wasn’t home. He was starting to get seriously worried. Two or three hours, she’d said. Here it was ten hours and counting. Where was she? Why didn’t she call?

Reid switched off the TV. What if Amy’d had an accident or been abducted? She could be injured or in trouble. His writer’s imagination combined with a father’s sensibilities had no trouble conjuring scenarios of death, dismemberment and disaster.

Reid dragged a hand through his hair and racked his brain trying to remember if she’d written down the number or address of where she was going. If it was anywhere, he decided, it’d be in the spare bedroom she and Beebee were occupying.

NINA PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY of the house where Amy was staying just before 8:00 p.m. The evening air was sultry with a whiff of salt and the two-story white house glowed in the twilight.

Nina checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. She’d removed the heavy studio makeup after her show and now her skin looked pale and somehow fragile. There were faint shadows under her blue eyes and she’d chewed all the color off her lips. Whipping out her lipstick, she reapplied a pale pink gloss and quickly ran her fingers through her hair. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

Her high heels sank into the white gravel driveway and she quickly moved to the concrete path leading to the front door. Who lived here? she wondered. Someone with a few bucks, if the late-model SUV in the carport was anything to go by. The beat-up wooden sailing dinghy with a broken mast and peeling paint next to the SUV seemed out of place.

Her stomach gave a faint rumble, reminding her that after she’d finished work she’d driven straight here without changing her clothes or stopping for dinner. Too late now. She buzzed the doorbell and pressed her palms against her linen skirt. Through the frosted-glass strip beside the door, she could see a light on in a back room but the front of the house was dark. She should have called first instead of just turning up. Amy might be out. She might be busy. She might—

The front door opened to reveal a man in a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. His rumpled dark hair was cut close at the sides and laugh lines framed his mouth and eyes.

“Reid?” She froze to the spot. Even after all these years, she would have known him anywhere.

“Nina?” He went still. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” she croaked. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said.

Low blood sugar combined with shock caused Nina’s knees to buckle and black spots swam before her eyes. Reid sprang forward and gripped her elbow. “You’d better come inside and sit down.”