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“Yes. She did. Do you want that for Kayla? It’s clean.”
“Yes, I do. She wants to tidy up for her father. And wasn’t there some stuff in there that Ben had outgrown? Kayla brought her little boy with her.”
“I thought Doug said Kayla had a daughter.”
“She has. But she also has a little boy. About three. His name is Adam.” She glanced over to the kitchen table where Adam was pausing to lick some peanut butter off his hand. He heard his name and, just for an instant, the frown was gone and he gave her a timid smile that she knew she would cherish. Recklessly, she plunged ahead. Kate was such a practical, sensible person.
“Look, what I really need is a lot of things, well, several things. Kayla is about Jill’s size, but thinner. Will you look through what you’ve got and pick some out? She has nothing but what she’s wearing. See what you can do for Adam, too. Just until she can make other arrangements?”
Kate’s unquestioning “Okay, will do. What else?” made her wonder again how she could have had two such wonderful daughters.
“You do most of the pricing at these sales, don’t you?”
“Yes. You mean you want to buy this stuff?”
“Right. It’s iffy if Kayla will get her luggage back. So she’d better have something to wear until she can start replacing things.”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll do it now, and send one of the boys over with the stuff.”
“Thank you, Katie. This is really a help. I’ve got two guests coming in before five so I’m going to be busy.”
“Wait. Don’t go yet,” Kate said. “Did you visit the hospital today?” And as Kate said it, the afternoon’s other worries came crowding back. Kayla’s arrival had pushed them aside for the moment.
“No, but Bessie called me. It’s not good, Kate.” Even as she said it, her voice broke. “I don’t think Cyrus is going to recover soon.” She paused, a thousand and one images welling up in her mind. Their pastor, Cyrus Ledbetter, had always been there for all of them. He had married her to Ralph Bennett years ago. He had baptized both their daughters. He had supported them in joy and in grief. And he and Kate had a special relationship. They had worked so hard together to establish the church school, Gilmartin Academy. The very idea that he might not always be there was unbelievable.
As they ended their conversation and rang off, Beth recalled the other problem she had pushed aside. Kate was in the midst of her third pregnancy, and things were not going very well for her. Beth had the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that always came when people she loved were at risk.
Still standing by the phone, she watched Adam. No longer wolfing down food, he had lain his head on the table and was finishing his cookies, half lying down. He must be exhausted. Did he have regular naps? Did he have regular anything? He was using one grimy hand to slowly break up his last cookie into small pieces, which he put tiredly into his mouth. His eyes were heavy. Any moment now he would simply fall asleep where he was.
Beth hurried to make a snack for Kayla. She had forgotten to ask what she might want, so she improvised. While she made a quick grilled cheese sandwich and sliced an orange, she watched Adam fall asleep. When she had these and a small pot of tea on a tray ready, she went to him and gently placed her hand on his tousled head. Instantly, he struggled out of sleep.
“Is it Adam’s nap time?” she asked.
He sat up quickly. “Mommy?”
“Mommy’s upstairs taking her bath. Do you want to go up?” she asked reassuringly.
“Mommy,” he said again, and started to get down, almost falling. Beth caught him and held him close for a moment.
“Come on. We’ll go up to see Mommy. Let me get this tray.”
Holding the small tray in one hand, she reached out the other, and Adam confidently put his small hand in hers. It was the beginning of trust. Well, Adam, you can trust me. She was surprised at the fierceness of the thought as it crossed her mind. Then, just as fiercely came another thought. Don’t get too attached to this child.
Upstairs again, Kayla was glowing. “Beth, you have no idea how good it feels to be clean again. Lucky I keep my hair dryer in my tote, isn’t it?” She started eating hungrily of her snack. “This is so good!”
Beth brushed aside the idea that the lost luggage was a myth. There had never been any other luggage. The ugly tote was all there was. “I can cut those split ends off for you, if you like. I used to trim my daughters’ hair all the time.”
“I’d love it if you would, as soon as I finish this. I want to look nice for Dad.”
“Fine. I’ll put Adam down for a nap. He was falling asleep at the kitchen table.”
“Okay, but make him go potty first,” Kayla said, taking another bite of her sandwich.
“Go potty,” Adam said sleepily.
Beth had almost finished styling Kayla’s hair when the doorbell rang. Not the guests so soon, surely. But it was only Kate’s boy, Tommy, with two shopping bags balanced on the carrier of his bike.
When Beth came back with the clothing, Kayla was looking at her reflection in fascination. “Beth, I can’t thank you enough. I look great.”
Beth had cut off quite a bit and had used her curling iron to cup the hair under Kayla’s chin line. A middle part had let her draw back both sides and hold the fine, fair hair back with two antique ivory clips. Kayla reminded her of Alice in Wonderland. She looked young and innocent in her slim blond prettiness. Doug would be pleased, and that was what mattered.
Kayla was elated at the clothing donations.
“Just until you can start replacing things,” Beth said tactfully as she emptied the shopping bags on the bed next to the sleeping child.
“Yeah, right. I love this shade of blue.” Kayla picked up Jill’s lovely blue challis dress. “Perfect! I love it!” She was like a happy child at Christmas. “And look at these. Adam’s never had a pair of jeans. He’ll be ecstatic. He’ll think he’s like the big boys now. And look at this!” She held up a small yellow T-shirt with “Mariners” printed across the front.
Kate had even sent some underwear, and Beth wondered if she had taken things from her own wardrobe. Kate was good at reading between the lines. Well, it was little enough to do for Doug’s daughter.
“Will you be all right for a while now?” Beth asked. “I have some things I need to do.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine. Thanks a million. And don’t worry about Adam. I’ll clean him up nice for Dad.”
Beth held back surging questions. Where is Adam’s father? Where are your first husband and your little girl, Becky? Did you really bring any luggage, or did you just run away from someplace, or something, or someone, in a panic, with no clothing, no money? And why? And, as she was going down the wide stairway, there came the question she really didn’t want to know the answer to: What do you expect of Doug?
With a sudden feeling of lassitude, Beth wandered back into the kitchen. She’d need to clear the table where Adam had scattered crumbs. She looked vacantly at the small mess he had made and she sat down.
She and Doug were so happy. By some miracle they had found each other in the autumn of their lives. Never had she loved anyone as she loved him. And she knew that he returned that love. It was as if they had both lived all their lives, carefully going through the motions, faithfully doing all they needed to do, or had committed to do, but marking time. Waiting. For this ultimate happiness. Was there such a thing as a perfect life? If so, she and Doug had found it.
They had married just after last Thanksgiving. She loved her small B and B business that she had created and he seemed quite willing for her to continue with it. And he, having worked all his life, was not content with just painting his beautiful landscapes. He had found other satisfying work to do. His work in the textbook field had made him a natural for a place on the board of trustees for the church school. He volunteered to teach Kate’s Raymond and Tommy how to play golf, and they were getting quite good at it. And he constantly helped her with the B and B work. Beth, don’t lift that. I’m your heavy-lifting guy.
She wished intensely that Doug would come home. Now. This minute. She wanted to see his big frame coming through the doorway, the ready smile on his rugged face. She remembered when he had first registered as a guest. She had thought of him as a man who might climb mountains, or wrestle heavy, wet sails on choppy water. She glanced at her watch: four-fifteen. The minutes were sliding by. She had so many things to do. Instead she went to the wall phone and dialed Doug’s cell phone. He answered almost immediately.
“I’m heading home soon,” he said. She loved the sound of his deep voice. He had been down at the church for a meeting. “I suppose you’re anxious for news. Well, the Elders have appointed an interim pastor to keep things going until Pastor Ledbetter recovers.”
“Oh? Yes, I had wondered.” She should tell him about Kayla. He shouldn’t come home and just find her here.
“He’s a nice enough guy,” Doug was saying. “I met him. He’s a bit young for a pastor. I don’t think he’d have been my choice, but I guess the Elders know what they’re doing. Name’s Philip Cooper. He’ll take the service Sunday, so you’ll meet him then. I meant to be home to carry suitcases, but things got busy here.”
“The new guests haven’t come yet. I don’t expect them until about five. Listen, dear. I want to tell you something, and this is a nice surprise. Your daughter, Kayla, is here. She came in this afternoon. Such a lovely girl.”
There was dead silence for a moment, then his astounded voice. “Kayla? Here?” The joy in his tone was clear.
After Beth hung up the receiver she lingered by the wall, feeling oddly indecisive, almost confused. Doug was happy. Her beloved was thrilled that Kayla had come. Why then did she have this strong feeling that something was very wrong? It just didn’t make sense. Get on with your work, Beth.
Then Adam’s piercing wail cut the air, chilling her.
“No! Mommy! No!”
Chapter Two
Beth rushed upstairs, her heart pounding with anxiety for Adam. What now? There was the distinct sound of an open palm smacking bare flesh. Adam and Kayla were in the big bathroom.
“Kayla! Stop!” Beth grasped Kayla’s uplifted arm. Both Kayla and Adam were crying.
“But he’s so dumb,” Kayla wailed. “Why can’t he be smart, like Becky is? He’s just plain stupid. He won’t get in. He kicked water on me!”
“Let me do it,” Beth said, making her voice calm when she wanted to scream. “Kayla, you’re tired. You’re impatient because of it. Let me bathe him. Go back in the bedroom. Lie down awhile. I’ll clean Adam up.”
Kayla rubbed tears from her face. “Okay,” she muttered. “You do it. He’s too much for me.” She turned, but before she left the bathroom she glared through angry tears at the naked, trembling little boy. “You dumb brat. How can you get clean if you won’t get in the tub? Beth, can you comb my hair again? He messed it up.”
“Yes,” Beth said evenly. “Just go lie down awhile.”
She turned to the little boy. He was backed up against the wall like a small animal at bay.
“Why don’t you want to get into the tub, Adam?” she asked gently, hoping that he remembered that she was his friend, the one who had given him food. The tears had made streaks in the dirt on his face. What went through the mind of a three-year-old child when confronted with big, angry adults?
“Too hot,” he said finally. Beth reached down to test the water. It was too hot, at least for skinned knees.
“Would you like some cold water in it?” she asked, and he nodded reluctantly. She turned on the cold tap, cooling the temperature to just barely warm. Cajoling, coaxing and explaining, she persuaded him into the tub and began bathing him. She was getting water all over her lavender silk blouse. At some point she had taken off her jacket. She couldn’t recall where she had left it. The minutes were ticking by. She managed to get Adam washed, including his hair. It was too long and somewhat shaggy, but there wasn’t any time to cut it. Doug would just have to see his grandson with shaggy hair. At least it would be clean.
When she took Adam, clean and dried, back into the bedroom, Kayla was lying flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
“You know, I’m scared. That’s the whole problem. When Dad and I parted company last, he was pretty fed up with me, with my drinking problem. And it is a big problem. I don’t know what he’s going to think now.”
Beth glanced at her watch. Almost five. And Kayla showed no inclination of getting up to dress Adam. Maybe it would go more smoothly if she did it herself. Mentally gritting her teeth, and hoping the new guests would be late, Beth hurriedly picked out some clothes intended for Adam.
“Here, Adam. Would you like to wear these jeans?” She held up the pants. He stared at them, his wide eyes questioning. Then he reached out to touch them. “Adam’s new jeans,” she assured him. Then he lunged past her and grabbed a small pair of red sneakers. He looked at her desperately.
“Adam’s shoes?” he asked. “My shoes?” He gripped them to his narrow chest. “Mine!”
She had a sudden need to cry. “Yes, Adam. Your shoes.” And she was rewarded by his sudden, radiant smile.
“Mine!” he said exultantly. “Mine!”
She managed to dress him, although he kept trying to hold the red shoes, which made it awkward. As soon as she had Adam dressed, she got Kayla back to the dressing table for another combing session. She tried not to keep looking at her watch. How long was this going to last? She had a business to run. She made herself speak kindly.
“Don’t worry about your dad, Kayla. He was delighted when I told him you were here. He’s coming home as soon as he can.”
“He was? When did you talk to him?”
“Right after you came upstairs. I called to let him know you’d come. He was very pleased,” she said firmly. Well, he had been pleased. Fair was fair.
Kayla was looking at her reflection with satisfaction. “That sounds hopeful. The right clip is pulling a bit.”
Beth loosened the clip. “Is that better?”
“Fine. You see, Dad doesn’t know that I got married again.”
“But he knew you were divorced from Becky’s father, didn’t he?” Beth wanted to ask about Adam’s father. Maybe Kayla would tell her without being asked.
Kayla continued to gaze at her reflection. “Yeah, he knew that. You sure do have a way with hairstyling. I look great. Thank you, Beth. You’re an amazing woman.”
All right. She would ask. “Why didn’t Adam’s father come with you?” That was blunt enough. She put down the comb and got a glimpse of herself in the glass. She was positively disheveled! Bathing small children was something she hadn’t done in a long time.
“Mitch died,” Kayla said almost accusingly. “He was… Well, he got into some trouble about a DWI. And he was sent into rehab. Being sent is a lot different than going in on your own. He wasn’t ready, see. But he had to go. It was that or a jail sentence.” She was staring angrily into the mirror. “He was fighting it, see? And I guess he drank the wrong stuff. It’s hard to get anything decent to drink in rehab. They thought…afterward…that he’d drunk something like maybe rubbing alcohol. Anyhow he…died. And he left me with Adam to take care of. Just on my own. That’s why I’ve really got to get squared away. And the last time Dad and I were together he said if I ever really meant to get dry he would help me. But I really had to mean it. Well, I mean it now. I got to. No ifs, ands or buts. This is it.”
Beth’s heart sank. “Of course he will help you,” she made herself say. This was Doug’s daughter. She tried to sound sympathetic. Poor, desperate Kayla, fighting her demons and trying so ineptly to care for a small child at the same time. She was thankful her own daughters didn’t have such difficulties.
Kayla’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Thank you, Beth. You can’t know how much I appreciate this.”
Then Beth felt guilty. She really had no right to judge Doug’s daughter. Her own life had been so good.
Beth was about to say something comforting when the front door chimes rang out. The new guests! Without thinking, she hurried out into the hall and down the stairs as the chimes rang out again. Almost at the door she remembered that she hadn’t combed her own hair, and she noticed that her gray skirt as well as her blouse was liberally splashed with water. Well, so be it. She pasted on her perfect hostess smile and opened the door.
“Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll,” she said brightly. They were a stocky middle-aged couple. Mr. Driscoll smiled but Mrs. Driscoll didn’t.
“Yep. We got here and only got lost once, finding the place.” Mr. Driscoll dropped the big suitcase onto the porch.
“Come in,” Beth said, smiling. “Everybody gets lost at least once finding this place. Didn’t you get the little map I sent?”
“He lost it,” Mrs. Driscoll snapped. She was looking at Beth’s wet skirt intently as they went into the entry hall. Mr. Driscoll had picked up the big bag again and dropped it inside the hall. It sounded heavy.
“If you’ll just register here…” Beth said, indicating the registration cards on the small neat desk. “And feel free while you’re here to take postcards and things as you need them. We have some good views of Seattle.” She was going automatically into her welcome-the-new guests routine. But she wished fervently that Doug would walk through the door. She had to at least offer to carry the big bag upstairs.
As Mr. Driscoll registered, Mrs. Driscoll finally said what was on her mind.
“Do you know there’s water all over your clothes?”
“Yes, I know it,” Beth said, laughing. “I was bathing our little grandson. I forgot how small children splash about. I’m going to change in a minute.”
Mrs. Driscoll’s face went dark and forbidding. “Are there children here? The bed-and-breakfast directory said there were no children here.”
“Th-there aren’t, actually,” Beth stammered. “I mean, he doesn’t live here. He’s just visiting.” As soon as she said it she thought, But he does, at least for a while. Was this going to be a problem?
Mrs. Driscoll was still worried. “Does he cry at night? I have a sleep disorder. I’m a very light sleeper. Anything—even the drop of a pin—wakes me up. Oh, dear, I really must get my rest. Is our room near his at all?”
“No, it isn’t,” Beth said quickly, instantly rearranging the room assignments in her head. She would put the Driscolls in the very front bedroom. And when Mr. Bryant arrived later, she would put him in the room next to Kayla and Adam. Justin Bryant was a regular who came up every spring from San Francisco to look for “collectibles” for his antique shop. He was a pleasant, good-natured man. He wouldn’t care about not getting his regular room for once.
“Well, we’ll just hope for the best,” Mrs. Driscoll said wearily, as if the weight of the world rested on her thick shoulders.
Beth reached the top of the stairs, out of breath from carrying the Driscolls’ suitcase. What did they have in it—lead weights? There were guests and then there were guests. She huffed her way to the very front bedroom, wondering what Mrs. Driscoll would find wrong with it. Mrs. Driscoll let her know immediately.
“Oh, dear, this bed has a canopy,” she said with a worried glance around the lovely room. “Canopies are pretty but they are dust catchers. I have several allergies. Dust is just deadly for me.”
“I don’t think you’ll find any dust in here,” Beth said briskly. “My cleaning service vacuums everything, including all fabrics, draperies, upholstered furniture and canopies. I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable here.”
“Well, we’ll just hope for the best,” Mrs. Driscoll said with weary patience.
