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The Delaneys of Sandpiper Beach
The Delaneys of Sandpiper Beach

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The Delaneys of Sandpiper Beach

Язык: Английский
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“Never my intention, Daniel. I’m just stuck in the middle today.”

He clenched his molars. Yeah, he got that. Now he was, too, but childcare wasn’t part of their employment agreement. He had a business to run. It was his lifeline. “Okay, kid, have a seat.”

The little girl looked to her mother, who dropped to her knees and gazed at her, eye to eye. “Be a good girl for Dr. Delaney. Mommy needs to work, okay?”

Anna nodded, as serious as a little kid could be. Keela took the tiny, tangerine-colored backpack covered in animated movie characters off the child’s shoulders, unzipped it and fished out some crayons and a coloring book. “You can make some nice pictures for Daddy for when you see him next.” Then she escorted the girl to the chair opposite Daniel’s desk. The one he reserved for his patients. There was a small table with assorted magazines next to it. She could color on that. She was so tiny, and probably worried about the big mean-faced man. He tried to smile to ease her concerns, but failed. It wasn’t her fault she’d been stuck with him, old mean-face, who was still hurting and lost and, so far, unable to move on.

Anna didn’t seem too interested in drawing for her dad, but Keela opened the book to a specific page. She left for the therapy room on a wave of that vanilla herb scent, with a relived “thank you” on her breath, and thankfully, the child went right to work on her coloring.

Okay, so far so good. He’d survive, he’d get through this, and before he knew it, the time would be over. Think defense. He checked his watch, then got back to the task at hand, ignoring the kid.

“What are you doing?” The slow, inquisitive words broke his concentration. He tensed. Again.

“Uh, I’m working on a project.”

“Can I help?”

He stapled pages together from the large stack waiting on his desk. Daniel wanted to breeze through the mindless job in record time so he could practice his presentation until he knew it backward and forward. But there she was, standing next to his desk. He stopped and glanced at the kid, noting her hopeful dark eyes, her obvious eagerness to get involved. Man, ignoring her was tough. “Uh, okay. Can you push this down hard enough to go through the papers?”

He placed the stapler at the upper left corner of the next four-page packet on his desk. She was too short to reach it, so he held the stapler out to her, trying to keep some distance. Not the right angle, and zero support. She climbed up on his lap, and he instantly regretted it. How tiny she was, yet full of life, how...

Bang, she whopped that stapler like a professional, surprising him. “Good.” If they worked fast, this would soon be over.

A minute later she’d completed the task, with his guidance, and somehow he’d survived. “And that’s it. Thanks. Now you can go back to your coloring.” He immediately removed the child from his lap, finally able to relax and take a deep breath.

It occurred to him he might stick Abby, the receptionist, with Anna for a while. But Keela had asked him to do the job, and he’d already assigned Abby to update client records this afternoon, which involved calling former and current patients on the phone. Otherwise known as drumming up more business. She couldn’t very well do that, check in the arriving patients and watch a kid, too. And he’d cleared most of his afternoon specifically so he could work on his 4Cs pitch for tomorrow morning.

“I don’t want to.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to color. Is that a fountain?”

Looking out the door, she said the word slowly—“foun-tan.” Yes, it was. It was in the hallway and she was welcome to go get a drink so he could get back to what he needed to do. “Yes. Help yourself.”

Anna scooted out of the room in her pink leggings and tutu, her sneakers squeaking on the tile. It was kind of cute, but he ignored the thought. Too damn painful. Instead he gave a sigh of relief that he was alone again and focused on his speech.

“I need help!” She used her outdoor voice, which startled him, and he jumped out of his chair to assist her by lifting her under the arms. Man, she was light, hardly weighed anything. So vulnerable and completely dependent on him. So trusting. Precious. She pushed the button for water, but her mop of curls got in the way. Her face got wet and she giggled. He almost smiled.

“Here,” he said, balancing her on his bent knee and thigh, and holding her hair out of the way with one hand. She slurped to her heart’s content, coming up only when she needed to breathe.

“Tastes good.”

He thought quickly. “I can fill up a cup for you. That’ll be easier.”

“No...” She dragged out the word. “I do it this way.”

And there he stood, letting his PT’s daughter drown herself in icy foun-tan water, braving brain freeze for fun.

“All done,” she finally said, so he set her down and felt immediate relief. Now maybe he could get back to work.

“I have to pee.”

He scrunched up his face, didn’t even try to hide his reaction. Was this really happening? “Do you know how to do that by yourself?” Because there was no way he was getting involved in that.

“I’m almost five!” Up went the hand.

“Okay.” Whatever that meant. He took her lifted hand, walked her to the unisex bathroom and nudged her inside. She gave him an exasperated glance, then pointed to the toilet seat cover container on the wall, too high for her to reach. He stepped inside, but only long enough to put the thin paper cover on the toilet, then turned to leave while again thinking how small she was and hoping she wouldn’t fall in. Before he closed the door, she was already pulling down her leggings and underpants.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He couldn’t help raising his voice, but seeing alarm on her face, he toned it down. “Let me leave first, okay?”

“Okeydoke.” So easily appeased.

He stood outside the bathroom door for what seemed like forever, marveling at the innocence of children and how they needed to be protected. There went the stab to his heart again. He checked his watch, listening to make sure she hadn’t fallen into that toilet bowl, but mostly wishing he was in his office doing what he was supposed to be doing. Unfortunately, his thoughts got stuck somewhere between loss and grief, pain and dangerously close to do-not-enter territory.

He pushed the feelings down, insisting he could do this. She was an innocent kid and he was the adult in the room. Soon he heard a flush. “I can’t reach it!” she yelled.

He tried to open the door. How had she managed to lock it without him hearing? “Let me in so I can help.”

“What?” she yelled over the running toilet water.

“Let me in.” Instead of raising his voice, he lowered it, not wanting to draw attention to the predicament, or alert Keela that he’d already screwed up.

With the toilet flushing, she spent a few seconds opening the door, long enough to have Daniel wondering where he kept the emergency bathroom key. Once it was open, she beamed up at him as if she’d just completed the most amazing undertaking of her life.

Daniel stepped into the small bathroom and immediately turned on the water. “I’m going to teach you a trick,” he said, putting the toilet lid down. “Stand on this.” Anything to avoid holding her again.

She crawled up, then leaned forward to use the adjacent sink.

“See? Isn’t that better?”

She tossed him a look that proved he was a true genius. But he still smarted from the last time he’d picked her up.

Anna clapped her hands beneath the stream of water. He jumped back to avoid getting wet, then guided her to the liquid soap and showed her how to lather up. “Make bubbles. That’s how we doctors do it.”

“You’re smart!” Why did everything she say come out like an exclamation? Still, her compliment caught him off guard and he cracked a smile for the first time that afternoon. Okay, so she was kind of cute.

He glanced at his watch again. All of fifteen minutes had passed since he’d been handed the job of childcare provider, and Keela wouldn’t be through until five. Now what should they do?

* * *

Keela stepped out of the therapy room, escorting her last patient back to the waiting room. She glanced in Daniel’s office as she passed, but he and Anna weren’t there. Worry flashed briefly. She followed the patient through the door and asked Abby where they were.

The receptionist didn’t have a chance to respond before the front doors of the clinic flew open and in waltzed Daniel and Anna, half-eaten ice cream cones in their hands. He looked up, and rather than seem guilty about feeding a child ice cream right before dinnertime, his expression clearly read Thank God you’re done.

Anna ran to her mother. “We had fun!”

“You did?” Surprised, she smiled, fixing her daughter’s hair, tightening the lopsided bow and only then daring to look at Daniel again—who stood licking the remnants of his cone, ignoring both of them.

“Okay. So my job here is done,” he said coolly, when he finally noticed her watching him. Then, business as usual, he walked to his office without another word.

She’d imposed her daughter on him, and what could she expect—that he’d love it? Thank the heavens it had ended well and she still had a job. But a flare of sadness made her think how Anna’s own father hardly ever wanted to spend time with her. At least Daniel had taken her for ice cream, maybe not because he wanted to, but because he was a decent guy. That alone made him different from her ex.

“Say thank you, Anna.” She guided her daughter to his office door, intent on showing her manners.

“Thank you!”

He looked surprised, maybe a little bothered by the interruption. Anything he’d done for her daughter had been purely out of duty, that was obvious. Maybe he wasn’t so different from Ron.

“You’re welcome. Okay, sport,” he said nonchalantly, “remember to pump your feet out when you go forward and in when you swing back. Then you can swing really high.” By the end of the sentence, he’d already gone back to focusing on his computer screen.

But that didn’t seem to faze Anna. She gathered her backpack, put her crayons and coloring book inside, then zipped it.

Did he just say swing really high? How high? Keela wondered, helping her daughter put her backpack over her shoulders. “Did you color Dad a picture?” she asked.

“No. We did lots of other stuff.” Anna reached for her mother’s hand, oblivious to Daniel’s lack of attention, then let Keela lead her out the door. “He taught me to swing so high! He said I shouldn’t ’spect him to do all the work.”

“I didn’t say it that mean,” he interjected, without lifting his head.

So he was listening. Keela glanced over her shoulder at Daniel, in his own world, clacking away on computer keys, pretending to ignore them. That guy taught you how to swing? They continued down the hall.

“We looked at bugs and he let me hold a caterpillar and...” She babbled on with a lengthening list of everything they’d done. A surprisingly long list, too. Daniel?

“Is that so,” Keela said, guiding her daughter toward the car.

Things didn’t add up. Daniel couldn’t have ignored Anna all afternoon and still won over her clear adoration. He’d taken her to the nearby park and bought her ice cream from the parlor three doors up. Shown her bugs and who knew what else. The child was practically dancing with joy. Of course, that could have something to do with the sugar high from the cone. Truth was, Anna never came home from the occasional visits with her father happy like this.

Keela tightened the belt on Anna’s car seat, closed the back door and slipped behind the steering wheel, turning the key on the old but dependable sedan.

She had been under the impression that Daniel Delaney was a man driven by his profession. All his time and effort seemed to focus on the clinic, and she respected him for it. She’d heard from Abby about a bad breakup before he’d opened the business, as well as the terrible experience with the last PT, and understood why he might be standoffish with her, or any woman, for that matter. But even when he spoke brusquely to her, she never took it personally. She understood pain and what it did to people. She was part of his staff and wanted to see him succeed, not just for him, but for her job security. They were a team. She and Ron were anything but.

She pulled onto Main Street, passing the ice cream parlor where Daniel had bought Anna her treat, heading for her neighborhood several blocks inland from the beach.

Ron hadn’t changed overnight. No, it had taken a couple years for his true personality to finally break through. He talked a good talk, but when it came to everyday living, the hard part of being a husband and providing for his family—for the woman he’d brought over from Ireland to be his lawfully wedded wife—he’d turned out to be selfish, demanding and miserable to be around. The fact that Anna hadn’t been Andrew seemed suspiciously part of the problem. But mostly, once Keela learned there was no making him happy, she’d quit trying. She’d also quit holding back from pointing out his shortfalls. Things got ugly between them, and he spent more and more time away from home.

After he’d cheated on her, and they’d finally broken up, he’d agreed to pay for her to attend City College for a physical therapy assistant certificate. Payoff money? Guilt? Clearly, he’d wanted to get rid of her, especially since he’d found a new woman, this one a German exchange student. But Keela didn’t care anymore; the old hurt had scarred over and in her heart she’d moved on. Never to be tricked by a sweet-talking man again.

She pulled into the carport beside her aging summer cottage. After the divorce, she’d remembered her first trip to California and the quaint hotel on the beach in Sandpiper, and how much she’d loved it there. Since it was close to the college, she’d found this small place to rent and, though hurt to the core, did her best to get on with her life. Landing a job at the clinic had made a huge difference in her outlook.

Once released from her car seat, Anna flew out of the vehicle and ran like a whirlwind toward the porch. Keela stayed behind, gathering the backpack and her purse.

The day she’d first met Daniel Delaney, she’d tried her best to remain professional but knew her dire need for employment cracked through her job-applicant veneer. Please hire me. Please. Please. Please? His natural good looks had set her off-kilter, but she’d quickly focused beyond his shocking green eyes and his sturdy rugby build, the charming Irish smile she’d recognize anywhere. There was absolutely no reason for her to notice his stylishly cut, thick brown hair, but she had.

Thankfully, he’d hired her on the spot, and she’d promised herself to be the best employee she could possibly be for him. So if he seemed crusty or occasionally abrupt, he was allowed, and she let it roll off her back. That was nothing compared to the nonstop complaints she’d endured from her ex. Now she was part of Daniel’s team. The businessman and doctor was helping her start her new life in the United States completely on her own.

She unlocked the front door while Anna jumped from one foot to the other, her sign for needing the bathroom.

Keela had saddled him with her daughter today and didn’t expect him to appreciate it, but she’d been desperate, once again thanks to Ron. When would she learn she could never depend on that man? Daniel had obviously been unhappy about it, but he’d stepped up to the task and apparently had done far more than an adequate job, judging by Anna’s cheery mood.

Anna lunged for the tiny pink-tiled bathroom. “Dr. Daniel taught me a trick today,” she called over her shoulder.

“He did?” Keela followed her into the room.

After Anna finished her business, she grinned, shut the toilet lid with a bang and climbed onto it, then leaned over toward the nearby sink. “See?” she said as she turned on the water to wash her hands. “I can do this all by myself. I don’t need that little kid’s stool.”

Keela had seen Daniel only as the man who’d hired her and saved her life until now, but today her predicament had pushed him out of the shadows and into the spotlight. And he’d sparkled. What was the saying? Actions speak louder than words. There had to be a lot more going on behind the gruff exterior of Daniel Delaney, because this afternoon, after first looking like he had a bad case of heartburn, the guy had turned out to be nothing short of a star.

After the rough ride with Ron, who’d changed bit by bit from wonderful to demanding, picky and never satisfied, then flat-out mean-spirited over their three-and-a-half-year marriage, she needed to believe there were still good men out there. Or, more realistically, regular guys with good hearts. Guys who could be trusted.

After Ron’s painful betrayal and the divorce, and a year and a half of swearing off men, since she’d proved she had zero skills choosing the right type, something clicked. The thought scared her to no end, but she was a mature thirty-year-old mother now. She’d moved countries and survived. She’d learned to depend on herself and hadn’t done such a bad job of it for her and Anna. Every day, she felt more confident, too.

She helped Anna dry her hands while her daughter babbled on.

Thanks to Ron, the mere thought of opening her eyes to what was around her, namely Daniel, still sent a jittery wave through her stomach.

* * *

Daniel finished assessing his last rescheduled patient, then went to his office, ready to pick up where he’d left off earlier, practicing his presentation for tomorrow, before he’d been interrupted by Anna. Even though the clinic was empty, he closed the door. The winding tangle in his chest since Anna walked in, reminding him of what he’d lost, pinched tighter. He sat, squeezed his eyes closed and, covering them with his hand, pressed his temples with thumb and fingertip. He stayed like that for a few moments, listening to his breathing, fighting off the pain, the grief, grasping at the calm that always eluded him at times like this. Don’t do it. Do. Not. Do it.

But he didn’t heed his own advice. Instead he opened the lower desk drawer, the one with the hanging files, riffling around way at the back until he found the manila envelope. He shook his head, knowing with every fiber of his being that he shouldn’t, but he opened it anyway. Then carefully pulled out the ultrasound picture of Emma at twenty weeks. The day they’d found out she was a girl. A few days later, when a radiologist had given a proper reading of the procedure, something else even more significant was diagnosed.

The knot that had been twisting around his heart since Anna showed up tore loose as his eyes filled and Emma’s perfect little profile went blurry. She’d never had the chance to drink from fountains, swing on swings, wear frilly tutus or even take a breath on the outside. And some days, like today, he was unsure if he’d ever get past the pain.

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