Beach Baby

“I’m so glad you came!” Amy greeted her with a warm smile and leaned forward to exchange tentative kisses on the cheek. She lowered her voice and added, “It’s like a morgue around here this morning.”

“Are you all right?” Nina asked, frowning slightly and searching Amy’s face. “You look tired.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Amy admitted. She felt Beebee’s small hands clutching her calves as her daughter peeked around Amy’s long cotton skirt at the newcomer.

“Neither did I,” Nina said. “I guess we all had a lot to think about.” She bent forward to smile at Beebee, “Hello, sweetheart.”

Beebee shrank back behind Amy’s legs.

“She makes strange,” Amy apologized and lifted Beebee up. “Come on, Beebs, say hello to Nina.”

“Don’t force her,” Nina said. “We’ll make friends in time.”

“Come in.” Amy led the way through to the back of the house. From the second floor came the sound of a violin concerto. “That’s Tara,” she explained to Nina as they passed the stairs. “She’s awfully good, although I get the feeling she doesn’t practice as much as Reid would like.” Glancing at the closed door leading off the family room, Amy added, “Reid’s working. I think he’s behind on his book.”

With explanations over, there was an awkward pause. All the way across the country on the bus, Amy had imagined a dramatic meeting with her mother, her fantasies alternating between tearful recrimination and joyful reunion. What she hadn’t expected was this uncomfortable distance between them, this not knowing how to talk to each other. There was so much she wanted to know, facts and dates, whys and hows. More than anything she wanted reassurance that, despite being given away, she’d been loved. She realized now with a wince at her naiveté that was something she could never ask for.

As the silence stretched, Nina moved to the windows. “What a lovely view of the mountains.”

“Do you want to go for a walk on the dike?” Amy suggested. Movement and action might break the ice.

“That sounds good.” Nina seized on the idea with obvious relief. She watched Amy smooth sunscreen on Beebee’s cheeks and nose, and strap her into the stroller. “Is it too far for her to walk by herself?”

“I always end up running after her on the way out and carrying her on the way back,” Amy explained.

“This is better, then,” Nina said. “We’ll be able to talk.”

Amy smiled tentatively. “That’s right.”

Nina removed a digital camera from her red leather purse and left the purse behind on the kitchen table. She helped Amy carry Beebee’s stroller down the steps and they walked along the street to the pedestrian gate at the entrance to the dike, a raised gravel road that sloped away to the beach on one side and the marshland on the other.

The dike ran around a point between Reid’s beach and the next beach, holding back flood tides from the marsh and pastureland. Rabbits hopped through the long grass, birds sang from the hedges and ducks paddled down the deep, wide channels that crisscrossed the low-lying fields.

Amy pushed the stroller over the bumpy track. No cars were allowed on the dike but there were people walking their dogs or jogging, plus the occasional kids on bikes. They’d gone a few hundred yards when Nina slipped her camera off her wrist.

“Hold it there, Amy, so I can take a photo of you and Beebee to show my parents. Beebee looks a lot like my mother, your grandmother. Her name is Dora. She had red hair, too, which turned auburn as she got older.”

“I never had grandparents that I remember,” Amy said. “Both Mom’s and Dad’s—I mean Elaine’s and Jim’s parents passed away when I was very young.” Amy adjusted Beebee’s sunhat so her face was visible then crouched beside the stroller so Nina could take their photo. “That’s why I came out west, to find my real family.”

No sooner did she say that than she felt guilty. Despite her anger toward her mom and dad, she loved them and knew they were good parents. But what hurt her so badly—besides the lies—was that they couldn’t understand her curiosity about her biological parents. They seemed to think she was only doing it to get back at them. Nina’s silence as she lowered her camera and checked the photo she’d just taken made Amy feel ashamed. Would she get on her case the way Reid had?

“I’m glad you came to look for me,” Nina said at last. “I’ve wondered about you over the years. What you looked like, your personality, if you were happy.”

“We look similar, don’t we?” Amy said shyly, searching Nina’s face and finding no disapproval, only a near mirror-image of herself. “Like mother and daughter. We have the same heart-shaped face, the same dark blue eyes.”

“For me it’s like looking in a mirror and seeing myself twenty years younger.” Nina held out a slender manicured hand adorned with an opal ring set in gold. “We even have the same fingers. See how narrow they taper and how the index finger bends in slightly?”

Amy nodded, stretching a tanned arm tinkling with silver bangles next to Nina’s. Her skin was softer, smoother, but other than that they could almost have been twins. It was as though she’d found the piece of herself that had been missing all these years. Maybe. It was too soon to take anything for granted.

“I want to take you to meet your grandparents,” Nina said. “They’re dying to get to know you and Beebee.”

“I’d love that. Tell me about them,” Amy begged. “I want to know everything.”

As they walked along the dike, Nina related details of her family history, about growing up in the small house in Vancouver’s east side, about her father almost losing his hand in an industrial accident, her mother’s gentle humor and her father’s pride. Amy listened eagerly, asking questions as rapidly as Nina could answer them. Their constraint vanished as their conversation wove a pattern of half-finished sentences and intuitive leaps of understanding punctuated by frequent bursts of laughter.

The only thing they didn’t talk about was Amy’s birth. Nina seemed to shy away from the subject every time she came close. And she wouldn’t say anything more about her early relationship with Reid either. The burning issue in Amy’s mind was why Nina and Reid had given her up for adoption. The question was on the tip of her tongue more than once, but she was afraid her hurt and resentment would come out in her voice. Afraid that the truth might ruin the growing connection between her and Nina. And yet, wasn’t that the main reason she’d traveled four thousand miles across the country? To find out the truth?

“Let’s see, what else can I tell you?” Nina said. “We’re all very healthy, with no hereditary diseases in the family. You’re lucky that way. You have good genes on both sides.” She paused and asked cautiously, “Have you met Reid’s parents?”

“Reginald and Serena came out for dinner last Sunday. They’re very reserved and formal and they positively dripped money. They were nice to me and they fussed over Beebee but it didn’t occur to me they were her great grandparents.” Amy’s voice held a wobble. “Reid didn’t say a word about my relationship to them. I still can’t believe he lied to me. He was always so supportive, always encouraged me to follow my dreams. I trusted him.”

“He loves you,” Nina said, stepping aside so a gray-haired woman could power-walk past. “He’s proved that beyond a doubt.”

Amy brushed her hair out of her eyes and slowed to turn her gaze on Nina. “Does love justify the lies?”

“He made a promise to the Hockings,” Nina said. “He thought he was doing the right thing.”

“I don’t understand why you’re defending him,” Amy said. “I’ve been here over a week. He knew from the first day that I was looking for my biological mother yet he didn’t tell me who you were. Why?”

Nina shook her head. “I can’t answer that. Maybe he thought I would give him away. Have you tried talking this out with Reid?”

“I’m too angry to talk to him,” Amy said. “He went straight to work after breakfast and hasn’t come out of his office all morning.”

A jogger ran by in a burst of pounding feet and spraying gravel. When he’d passed, Nina changed the subject. “What about Beebee’s father?” she said. “What does he think about you coming out here?”

Head down, Amy shrugged unhappily. “I didn’t tell Ian I was leaving, much less where I was going.”

“Why not?” Nina asked. “What happened to make you run away from him?”

“We fought over his job at the meat-packing plant,” Amy said, avoiding Nina’s gaze. “We’re both vegetarians.”

“Don’t you think he has a right to know where his daughter is?” Nina asked, gently, and Amy felt a hot burst of shame. “Is there another reason you left?” Nina added. “You can tell me. If you want to talk about it.”

Amy hesitated; she’d been longing to confide in someone. Her mom and dad didn’t understand and she couldn’t talk to Reid. “Elaine and Jim want us to get married and Ian agrees,” she blurted out. “I just don’t know if I love him enough to settle down with him.”

“I see,” Nina said. “Does he love you?”

“He says he does,” Amy said. “But we’re so young. I’ve seen the statistics on teenage marriages.”

“You have a child,” Nina said. “You could try to make it work for Beebee’s sake.”

“That’s what Jim and Elaine say.” Amy lifted her hands off the stroller’s handles in frustration. “But Ian’s never actually proposed. I’ve never accepted. The decision to be together was forced on us when Beebee arrived,” Amy said, then added hastily, “not that I regret having her.”

“I know what you mean. It’s complicated,” Nina agreed. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give advice. All I know is, you need to be very certain about the choices you make now because they’ll affect you, Beebee and Ian for the rest of your life.”

“That’s what worries me,” Amy said, feeling the familiar weight of uncertainty over the future pressing on her. “Right now I need some time out. I need to feel I can make it on my own if I have to. I need to find out who I am before I can become someone’s wife.”

They came to a halt at the end of the dike. The trail sloped off in several directions through the grassy wetland. A park with barbecues, swings and a baseball diamond lay on the far side, next to a parking lot. To their left, a large gray bird wading through the shallows flapped away, its long legs trailing behind.

Beebee pointed a chubby fist. “Bird.”

“This is where we usually turn back.” Amy paused to gaze at Mount Baker floating above the distant horizon on the far side of the bay. The mountains were an unexpected bonus to this side of the country and she never tired of them.

“Did you ever consider giving up Beebee for adoption?” Nina asked.

Surprised at the question. Amy replied more fiercely than she intended. “Never.”

Nina flinched. “I admire you for that,” she said. “My own situation was…unstable when I was pregnant with you. I’m glad you had the security of having a well-off family and a steady boyfriend.”

“I don’t want anyone’s help,” Amy insisted. “I told you, I want to be able to support myself.”

“I understand that, more than you might think. But even when you ran away, you had Reid to turn to,” Nina pointed out. “What would you have done if he hadn’t taken you in?”

Amy didn’t like to contemplate that or to be reminded of her obligations to Reid. She frowned and bent over the stroller to check on Beebee. “I would have survived.”

They started back in silence. Amy struggled with the stroller over the rough path, even as she struggled with her conflicting emotions. Suddenly the day seemed ruined, herself on the verge of tears. Then she felt a touch on her shoulder and turned to find Nina watching her with anxious eyes.

“There are decisions I regret, mistakes I’ve made,” Nina said. “Since you turned up, I’ve felt incredibly lucky, as though I’ve been given a second chance. I’m in no position to pass judgment on you. But you’re my daughter. I’d just like to get to know you.”

Amy glanced away then back again, blinking to clear the moisture in her eyes. How had she ever thought this would be easy? “Well, that’s what I came west for.”

“Let me push for a while,” Nina said, taking over the stroller. “Tell me, what type of music do you like? What kind of books? I want to know everything about you. We have so much to catch up on,” she continued before Amy could reply. “We’ll go to Stanley Park and take the ferry to Vancouver Island. Oh, the aquarium is wonderful. Beebee will love the killer whales. I’ll take you on a tour of the television studio.”

“That would be fantastic.” Amy’s heart lightened and so did her step. “I couldn’t believe it when I found out my mother was a TV star.”

Bound to a chair, Luke struggled against the ropes cutting into his wrists. His ankles were tied, too, bending his knees at an unnatural angle that cut off his circulation. Before him paced the General, his chest festooned with colorful medals against his dark green uniform. Luke heard sounds coming from behind him and knew the General’s henchmen were preparing their instruments of torture.

“Where are the documents?” The General spoke flawless English with just a trace of an accent.

“I don’t have them.” Before the soldiers had stormed the warehouse, he’d shoved the manila envelope beneath a loose floorboard.

“I don’t believe you. You want to destroy us.”

The General gave the nod and a man in a dark suit slowly stubbed his burning cigarette out on

Luke’s arm, sending the acrid smell of his own singed flesh up his nostrils.

Sweat poured down Luke’s back. Or was it blood from the gunshot wound that had reopened when they’d dragged him from the warehouse to the basement of this burnt-out church? “I’m only trying do what’s right. I’m protecting innocent people.”

REID LEANED BACK IN HIS chair and put his bare feet up on his desk while he read over the passage. What a load of crap, he thought, shaking his head in disgust. Luke Mann didn’t try to defend his actions like some guilty politician. Never apologize, never explain, that was his motto. With a few keystrokes, Reid deleted what he’d spent all morning laboring over.

Tara was mad at him. Amy said she’d never forgive him and Nina suddenly occupied the moral high ground. Was it any wonder he couldn’t write? Thank God Beebee still regarded him with affection.

On a wide, high shelf to his left sat framed photos of Tara and Carol, a scented candle Carol had claimed would encourage creativity, except that he never remembered to light it, and a carved wooden box where he kept his treasures. He opened it now, pushed aside the baseball card his grandfather had given him, a bald eagle feather, a moon snail shell, a set of poker dice and, in a separate compartment of its own, a child’s gold bracelet set with tiny pink stones.

The bracelet had been Amy’s, his gift to her on her eighth birthday. It had come back to him in a box of clothes and toys Amy had outgrown, which Elaine had passed on to Tara. Reid had intercepted the bracelet for sentimental reasons, keeping it as a reminder of Amy’s childhood when he’d moved back out west. Then he’d gotten Tara her own bracelet.

Reid lifted the thin gold links out of the box and felt the fine weight flow over his fingers. Over the years he’d thought about giving it back to Amy but it was a child’s bracelet; probably it meant more to him than it did to her. Carefully he returned it to its compartment.

Through his shut office door he could hear Amy and Nina out in the family room, the soft cadence of their voices punctuated frequently by laughter. He’d followed their progress on the dike with his bird-watching binoculars until they’d rounded the bend and he couldn’t make out their figures any longer. Now they were back, getting along like a house on fire.

Another gale of laughter brought him to his feet with his hand on the doorknob. To what? Ask them to keep it down or to join them? How did Nina do it? Neither of his daughters were talking to him or to each other but, as soon as Nina had arrived, suddenly the house was filled with conversation and laughter. He’d forgotten how much she liked to talk.

He pressed an ear to the closed door. What was so funny? He should be glad that Nina was getting along well with Amy, except that it stung, coinciding as it did with his abrupt fall from grace. He forced himself back to the computer. He absolutely had to write ten pages today if it killed him.

Upstairs Tara was drawing her bow across the violin strings as loudly as she could, as if trying to drown out Amy and Nina. Another burst of laughter from the family room was followed by a piercing screech of the violin’s top string.

That was it. He couldn’t work in here. Reid grabbed his laptop and slid his feet into his sandals. As he came out of his office Nina and Amy stopped yakking to look at him.

Reid put on his sunglasses and a baseball cap and headed for the French doors. “I’m going to write on the beach,” he said to no one in particular and left without a backward glance.

Nina had been almost as aware of Reid’s unseen presence behind the shut office door as she was of Amy and Beebee, right in front of her. “He was always quiet,” she said to Amy, “but he didn’t use to be this antisocial.”

“He gets grumpy when his book isn’t going well,” Amy said. “Some days he hardly speaks to anyone. He just mutters to himself about some guy called Luke.”

“That’s the hero of his novels,” Nina said.

“I’ve tried reading his books,” Amy added. “I can’t get into spy thrillers.”

“They’re not usually my cup of tea, either.” Yet she’d read all of them. Nina got up and went to the window to watch Reid stalk down the beach to sit cross-legged in the sand against a log with his laptop across his knees. “That doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Amy came to stand beside her. “He told me once he couldn’t work outside because of the seagulls.”

“They can be noisy,” Nina agreed.

“It’s their beady eyes,” Amy corrected her. “They fly in and circle around, coming closer and closer, hoping for food, I guess. They stare at him until he can’t think.”