Minor Adjustments (6 page)

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Devon shrugged. “If it had all been as easy and smooth as I’d imagined it, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

“And who are you today, exactly?”

He chuckled. “I really have no idea.”

Stella smiled, brushed some sand off her legs, and stood up. “Well, I’ll let you figure it out while I go pay a visit to the loo.”

Stella’s slim figure made its way across the beach, somehow looking graceful as her feet wrestled with mounds of soft sand. She really was beautiful—and a complete mystery, but maybe that was part of her attraction. One minute she seemed anxious and worried, and the next, calm and collected. Devon didn’t understand her.

Or why he even cared.

He was lounging on a beautiful beach in Sydney, Australia. A dream vacation for most people. And yet all Devon could think about was a mysterious girl and a four-year-old boy.

Who was no longer adding seashells to his castle.

Where did he go?

“Ryan?” Devon sat up and scanned the surrounding area. No Ryan. He wasn’t in the ocean either. Leaping to his feet, Devon called, “Ryan!”

No answer. No boy.

The crowded beach now looked like a page out of
Where’s Waldo
.

“Ryan!” Devon yelled. He’d been there only seconds ago. He couldn’t have gone far.

A girl lying on a towel ten yards away set her book aside. “Lost someone?”

“Yeah, a boy. Four years old.”

She scrambled to her feet. “Which way did he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s he wearing?”

“Uh . . . navy blue shorts. Red hat.”

“Okay. I’ll head this way, you go that way.”

Devon nodded and jogged to the left, shouting Ryan’s name along the long stretch of beach. By the time he neared the end, several others had joined in the search, and cries of “Ryan” drifted up and down Manly beach.

Ryan, where are you?

Had he gone out in the ocean? Had a large wave carried him out to sea? Had he drowned? Been attacked by a shark? Been kidnapped? Was someone driving off with him right now? The nightmares came at him like an onslaught of killer bees.

Deep breaths.

Calm down.

Ryan knew not to go in past his knees. He couldn’t have drowned. No. He must have gone for a walk and gotten lost.
But does he know to stay away from strangers? Not to take candy from them and get in their cars?

Stop it already!

Devon ran, calling out Ryan’s name and searching the beach as he went. Maybe the girl with the book had found him. Please let her have found him.

Stella stood by their towels, holding the hand of a small boy with a red baseball cap. Stopping, Devon doubled over and tried to catch his breath. Ryan. He’d been found. He was fine. He hadn’t drowned or been kidnapped. Everything was okay. Ryan was okay.

Devon suddenly wanted to throttle him. “You scared me to death, Ryan. Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“As well as half of the people on the beach,” Stella said. “You sure know how to get a search party moving.”

Devon glared at her before returning his attention to Ryan. “Well?”

“I went with Stella,” said Ryan.

“No you didn’t. I watched her walk away.”

Stella had the nerve to grin. “I guess I didn’t hold your interest long enough because Ryan caught up to me just outside the loo.”

The girl was unbelievable. How could Stella make fun of him at a time like this? Could she at least try for some sympathy? Her cheeky grin widened.

Apparently not.

Knowing he was about to wring both their necks, Devon spun around and went for a walk.

A long walk.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

The hike from Manly Beach to North Head was breathtaking. A lush plateau of green looked like its edges had been crudely chopped off, exposing jagged cliffs that were splattered with creams, oranges, and browns. The ocean waves splashed across the rocky coastline below while a light breeze danced over Devon’s skin, cooling him.

He was officially in awe of New South Wales.

Stella gripped Ryan’s hand as they stood overlooking the ocean. “Did you know that most of
Mission Impossible II
was filmed here? In fact, somewhere along these cliffs they shot that scene where Nyah nearly jumped to her death.”

Devon took a step back and pulled Ryan with him. “I’m beginning to think you’re the queen of random facts, Stella. First the platypus, then Manly beach, and now North Head.”

“Those aren’t random facts,” said Stella. “They’re interesting tourist facts. But if you want random, I can give you random.”

Always full of surprises. “Okay, sure. Let’s hear it.”

“Did you know that if you chew gum while peeling onions, it will keep your eyes from stinging?”

“Seriously?”

“It’s true. I’ve tried it.”

Devon grinned. “Ski goggles work too. What else you got?”

“Hmm . . . Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.”

Devon laughed. “Where are you getting these so-called facts from? The
National Enquirer
?”

“You mock, but I’m telling you, they’re true. Go look them up for yourself.”

“Maybe I will.”

“And maybe you’ll learn a random fact of your own.”

“Like how all blue-eyed blondes are eccentric?”

“You obviously don’t have extra zinc and copper in your hair.”

“I’m tired,” said Ryan. “Can we go home now?”

Devon lifted the boy into his arms, and Ryan’s head dropped to his shoulder. Little hands wound around Devon’s neck as Ryan snuggled against him. Trusting him.

Devon tightened his hold. There was something about Ryan . . . something different, something unique. It was like an added responsibility, but one Devon didn’t mind so much.

A large boulder rested a few steps away, and Devon sank down in front of it, leaning back. Ryan relaxed against him as his breathing deepened.

Stella collapsed beside him. “Feel like carrying me back as well?”

“Sure, why not?” Devon said. “Hey, I want to apologize about earlier. One minute Ryan was there and the next he was gone. It sort of freaked me out.”

“So I noticed.”

“Funny.”

Stella smiled. “It was partly my fault. I should’ve made sure you’d seen him follow me.”

“I should’ve been watching him better.”

“You mean instead of watching me?” Her eyes laughed at him.

“Are you flirting with me?”

Her smile vanished and she looked away. “Why would I flirt with you? It would be pointless.” She cringed. “Uh, what I meant to say was—”

“I’m leaving in a week and you’ll never see me again.”

Blue eyes reconnected with his. “I’d better see you again.”

What? Wow. She really was flirting with him.

“Now don’t go selling tickets on yourself. I only meant that if I don’t see you, I won’t see Ryan, and that’s not okay with me.”

Whoa. Slow down a second. Did she just imply . . . ?

“What are you talking about?”

Red-cheeked, Stella stammered, “I mean—if you plan to take Ryan home with you, that is.”

The girl had some nerve. Devon couldn’t take Ryan. Sure, he cared about the boy, but there was no way Devon could raise him. Maybe if he had a wife or fiancée or lived closer to his family—but he didn’t.

“Stella, when are you going to realize that I’m not in a position to take Ryan? I can’t. I have no idea how you convinced me to stay for two weeks or why I’m even here, but you did—which is the only reason I haven’t left. If you keep pressuring me about Ryan, though, I’ll be on the next plane out of here. Understand?”

Stella nodded and then turned away, but not before Devon saw the pain on her face. Was she going to cry? If so, tears wouldn’t work on him. Devon refused to be coerced into taking Ryan home permanently.

Almost unconsciously his arms tightened around Ryan, and Devon found himself wishing things were different. If the truth be known, he wanted Ryan to come with him. He’d love nothing more than to offer the child a home filled with love and security. But he couldn’t.

And now Devon would have to leave knowing there was nothing he could do.

Sometimes he wished he’d never met Stella Walker.

But then traitorous and betraying images slapped him in the face. Stella, with her gorgeous blue eyes and cheeky grin. Stella, comparing him to a platypus or snuggled on the couch with Ryan. Stella, splashing Ryan in the ocean and spouting random facts. Stella, Stella, Stella. For a girl he’d known less than a week, Devon sure had a lot of memories of her.

In her own frustrating, beseeching way, Stella had touched him. Which would make saying good-bye to her and Ryan that much more difficult.

Devon took a breath and slowly let it out. “I’m sorry.”

There were no tears, only a sad resignation. “I’m sorry too.”

“I’m not sure why you want me to take Ryan, anyway. It’s only been a week, and I’ve already lost count how many times I’ve messed up.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You’re wonderful with him.”

“Really? Because I remember you once said that I’d never make a good father.”

“I’ve been known to say things I don’t mean when I’m frustrated.” Her fingers reached out and gently brushed Ryan’s curls before falling to Devon’s shoulder. “You’re generous, patient, and caring—the type of person every boy should have in his life. You would make an amazing father, if you only had the desire to try.”

Not again.
Devon closed his eyes. “Stella, please . . .”

“I know,” she said. “I promise not to push you anymore. Just promise me you won’t leave until you have to.”

“I won’t.”

But somehow, Devon knew he’d come to regret the promise.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

Ryan finished his prayer and crawled into bed. “Will you read me a story?”

A story?
This was a new request. Devon searched the room, hoping a children’s book would suddenly appear. “Sorry, bud, but I don’t have a book. Maybe we can get one at a bookstore tomorrow. Would that be okay?”

“I have one.” Ryan jumped from the bed and ran to his bag. Unzipping a side pocket, he pulled out a beat-up hardback book. It pictured a wooden doll on the cover with the words, “You Are Special.”

A flood of good memories rippled through Devon. He’d been eight when his family moved to Oregon, where he’d struggled to fit in and make friends. He started pretending to be sick so he wouldn’t have to go to school. One day, Devon arrived home to find
You Are Special
lying on his bed, tied up with a bright green bow. His mother had read it to him nearly every night that entire school year, even after he’d made friends. And every night she’d kiss him good night and say, “You’re special too. Don’t ever forget that.”

Devon’s fingers glided over the cover. “I know this book,” he told Ryan. “My mom used to read it to me.”

“My mum always read it and said I’m special.”

Devon blinked at the moisture in his eyes. “She’s right. You are special.”

“Can we read it?”

“Sure.”

Devon picked up the boy, swung him around a few times and threw him onto the bed, loving the sound of his giggles. He scooted next to Ryan and smiled when the child snuggled up to him.

Together, in the dimly lit hotel room, they read the book. Devon would read a page and then Ryan would explain it with his own enthusiastic words. It was almost déjà vu for Devon, bringing back memories when his own mother had done the same thing.

The story ended, and Devon turned the last page, recalling the message his mother had written in his book years before. His breath caught. The words were faded, but they were still there. “Devon, I hope you never forget how special you are to me, to your dad, and to God. I love you! Mom.”

Why had Lindsay taken it? The thought settled inside Devon as Ryan’s little arm came to rest on Devon’s chest. His finger grazed Ryan’s cheek. Whatever her reason, Devon was glad she had. Somehow the knowledge that his book was now Ryan’s favorite made it all the more special.

Stella stared at the open file on her desk. It was Monday, the beginning of a new week, and the skies were clear and blue. It should have been a great day, but the words from the file seemed to pop off the pages and smack her in the face.

Ryan Devon Caldwell

Mother: Lindsay Ellen Caldwell, deceased.

Father: unknown

Mother’s parents: George and Betty Caldwell

Stella shut the file, hoping it would lessen the hatred and fear that came with those last two names. Her eyes drifted closed.
Please, God, please bring Devon around.

“Looks like you could use something stronger than a lolly, but it’s the only thing I have on me,” Tess said, throwing a wrapped piece of candy at her.

Stella caught it and set it on her desk. “Ta, love. I haven’t talked to you in a few days. How’s Jeremy?”

A diamond glistened from Tess’ left ring finger. “He wants to move up the wedding date to September.”

“A beach wedding will be a bit chilly in September.”

“I know, which is why I still want to wait until January,” Tess said. “But he has a brother living in England, and they haven’t seen each other in three years. Turns out, his brother is coming to Sydney for a business trip in September and Jeremy wants him to be the best man.”

“His brother won’t come back in January for the wedding?”

“Can’t. His pregnant wife is due about then.”

“How about November? It should be warm by then.”

Tess shook her head. “Jeremy’s parents have a three-week vacation booked. And October is close enough to September, so we might as well have it then.”

“Well there you have it,” Stella said. “If I had a gavel, I could pronounce the case closed.”

“But I’ve already found the loveliest dress with short, capped sleeves.”

“You could always wear a sweater.”

Frowning, Tess said, “Some friend you are. I want my lolly back.”

Stella’s hand clamped over the candy. “No way. Besides, you’ll be radiant no matter what you wear or where you get married. And just think how much Jeremy will owe you for this one. You could probably ask for anything.”

A slow smile crossed Tess’s face. “You’re right. I never thought about it that way. He told me the other day that he wants to wait awhile before we have a baby. Maybe I can use this as leverage to make it sooner.”

Stella laughed. “It’s a good thing you’re a solicitor. If he does agree to that, you’ll know to get it in writing.”

“True. Now, what about you? How are things going with the American?”

If only Stella knew. “He’s a good guy. I just wish he’d stop thinking about why he can’t take Ryan and focus on how he can.”

“What are you going to do if he doesn’t?”

“What can I do? I’ll have to turn the matter over to the Department of Human Services.” Stella hated saying the words out loud. Speaking them seemed to make it more of a possibility. A possibility she wasn’t willing to consider yet—not when there was still a speck of hope. “I’ve been thinking about taking a few days off work. Do you think Gerald will mind?”

“Of course not. He thinks you work too hard anyway.”

“I want to spend some time with Ryan before I can’t anymore.”

“I know. I need to talk to Gerald anyway, so I’ll let him know.” Tess offered her a look of sympathy and stood. “Eat the lolly. It’s the red kind that brings good luck.” She blew a kiss and left the room.

Pulling the wrapper from the candy, Stella popped it into her mouth. She needed all the luck she could get.

As Stella rode home on the train that evening, she sent a text to Devon, asking if it would be okay if she tagged along to the zoo the following day.

His reply came seconds later.

Tag away.

Tag away? What did that mean? That he’d tolerate her presence? That he didn’t care either way? Stella shoved her phone into her purse. Why did she care what he thought, anyway? Ryan was the one she wanted to spend time with, right?

Right.

And Devon.

Stella couldn’t think about Ryan without Devon’s name forcing its way though, like a child seeking attention. Unfortunately, Devon didn’t seem to have the same problem. What was Stella hoping for, anyway? That he’d be overjoyed to see her again? That he’d decide to stay in Australia permanently? She almost laughed at her absurd daydreams. Well, overjoyed or not, he’d have to put up with her “tagging” for a few more days.

Her phone buzzed again.

In the mood for some ice cream?

A smile spread across Stella’s face as she typed her reply.

Only if it’s New Zealand Natural.

You’d know best. Where? When?

Stella was waiting on a bench at a train stop when they appeared. Ryan grinned and ran to her while Devon followed at a leisurely pace.

“How was work?” he asked.

Who wanted to talk about work? “What are we, some old married couple?” Stella teased, hugging Ryan.

Devon shrugged. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it. I guess we won’t tell you about our day either.”

Pulling free, Ryan gushed, “We saw tigers and monkeys and rhinos and zebras and elephants and a wombat!”

They’d already gone to the zoo. Without her. Stella forced the smile to remain on her face. Why did Devon tell her to “tag away” if they’d already been? “You went to the zoo today?”

Devon shuffled his feet, looking sheepish. “Sorry. When I got your text, we were in the middle of the bird show. I skimmed through the message and didn’t realize you’d mentioned the zoo until I reread it when we were on our way to meet you.”

If only Stella didn’t feel as though she’d missed out on something special. “Sounds like you guys had a fun day,” she said to Ryan.

“Yeah, and now we get ice cream!” Ryan’s enthusiasm, as usual, was infectious.

As they made their way out of the train station, Stella couldn’t resist saying to Devon, “So you reread my text?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Maybe. I had a long day. I could use a nice compliment about now.”

Devon chuckled. “In that case, I reread your text over a hundred times and savored every last word. In fact, I plan to read it again and again when we get back to the hotel tonight. I’m sure it’ll keep me awake half the night.”

“Only half the night? That’s it?”

“Blame Ryan. He wears me out.”

A laugh escaped her mouth. “In that case, all’s forgiven.”

When they arrived at New Zealand’s Natural, Devon held the door for her and Ryan. They ordered their ice cream and found a small table tucked away in the corner.

“Ice cream is good!” Ryan said, digging in.

“Better than custard?” Devon asked.

“No.”

Stella cleared her throat. Now or never. “So, what are your plans tomorrow? Since I invited myself to the zoo and you’ve already been there, mind if I come along to wherever you’re going?”

“I was actually surprised to get your text. I figured you’d be working most of the week.” Devon took a bite of his ice cream and then examined it. “This stuff is amazing. Why don’t we have this in the States?”

Hello, I’m over here.
“Believe it or not, I took a few days off work.”

“You did?”

“I’m not a workaholic like you.” Maybe Devon didn’t want her along. Was he trying to think of a way to tell her to bug off?
Enough, Stella. You’re acting like a teenager.
What Devon thought didn’t matter—it was Ryan who mattered. That’s why she’d taken the time off.

“So, would it ruin your plans if I hung out with you guys?” Stella asked again.

“Since when did you need an invitation?” There was a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Since now.”

“Then consider yourself invited, if that’s what you want,” he said. “Although we haven’t planned anything for tomorrow yet.”

“But you do want me to come?” Stella nearly groaned. Did she really just say that? Why hadn’t she said a simple, “Thanks,” and left it at that?
Honestly, Stella, you need help.

“I see you’re fishing again.”

Stella played with her ice cream. Why did he have to be so unreadable? She wouldn’t have to fish if he would give her some idea of what was going through his mind—at least where
she
was concerned. It was a simple question, really. Did he want her to come or not?

As if reading her mind, Devon leaned over the table and picked up her hand. “Yes, I do want you to come—but only if it’s pressure-free.”

A wonderful, tickling sensation coursed through her fingers and up her arm. “I already told you I won’t pressure you anymore.”

Devon returned to his ice cream. “Perfect. Then what should we do tomorrow?”

“How about a bushwalk?”

Ryan’s eyes lit up and Stella wanted to hug the darling boy. “You mean a real one? In the mountains?” Not waiting for an answer, he turned his dimple on Devon. “We get to go on a bushwalk and see real live kangaroos!”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about kangaroos,” Stella said.

“A bushwalk sounds great.” Devon winked at her. “And seeing real live kangaroos sounds even better.”

So much for a pressure-free outing.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

The following morning, Stella chauffeured Ryan and Devon to the Blue Mountains near Katoomba. As they wound their way up the road, Ryan wouldn’t stop talking about kangaroos. Stella hoped the clearing at the top would contain the usual mob. She wanted a front row seat to Ryan’s excitement when he saw them.

Stella parked the car and led them past an old and decrepit knee-high wooden railing. Peering through the trees, she smiled. A mob of kangaroos was clustered in a clearing not far from them.

“I see them!” Ryan shouted, his little legs bouncing along in anticipation.

Devon and Stella shared a smile and quickened their steps to keep up.

“Don’t get too close,” Stella called as they neared. Several kangaroos looked their way but soon lost interest.

Ryan burst into giggles and pointed. “Look! They’re hitting each other!”

“It’s their way of playing, I think. Like when we wrestle.” Devon studied the kangaroos. “They’re interesting animals, aren’t they?”

Maybe to him. To Stella, and most Australians, kangaroos were more like vermin. “When early European explorers described what they looked like, the English thought they were crazy. They called them travelers’ tales until a man shot one and brought the hide back to England. It was stuffed and put on display.”

“First the platypus and then the kangaroo,” Devon said. “The English aren’t very trusting, are they?”

“I guess not.”

When Ryan had seen enough of hopping marsupials, Stella drove them to the trailhead of one of her favorite hikes in the Blue Mountains. In the middle of a rain forest, eucalyptus trees, ferns, and moss-covered boulders framed a well-worn dirt path. Every now and then a tropical flower would appear, stark and lovely against the green backdrop.

The sweet scent of vegetation, chirping birds, and fresh air—Stella never tired of bushwalks, especially ones that snaked through the dense and humid areas of these mountains. There was something calming about nature. Peaceful—a feeling that had been missing from her life recently. It had been too long since Stella luxuriated in sliding her worries aside. Way too long. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the gentle reminder.

Thank you, Father. I needed this.

Ryan stopped to point out a bug, and Devon crouched down beside him. Next it was a plant or something else Ryan found interesting. Each time, Devon was there, making Ryan feel important. It showed in Ryan’s dimple and his proud, dark brown eyes. A feeling of rightness stirred inside Stella, bringing with it a penetrating warmth. For all of Lindsey’s skepticism about the existence of a God, her friend definitely had a spark of inspiration there at the end.

Devon was exactly what Ryan needed.

The knowledge filled her, buoyed her, lifted her. Stella wished she could capture the impression and somehow inject it into Devon. He needed to feel what she felt—to know what she knew. If only she could tell him; if only he’d listen.

Ryan’s wails cut through her thoughts. Ahead, Devon peeled Ryan off the ground and hugged him, rubbing his back and murmuring into his ear.

Stella rushed forward. “What happened?”

“He tripped.”

Brushing hair from Ryan’s forehead, Stella said, “Hey, tough guy, you okay?”

“My knee hurts,” cried Ryan.

Devon pried the tiny body away from him. Sure enough, a few drops of blood oozed from a skinned knee.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! I need a bandage!”

“It’s okay—it’s just a little scratch,” Devon soothed.

Stella dropped to her knees and rifled through her backpack. She pulled out a small first aid kit. “Here we are. Let’s get this on and you’ll be good as new.”

Ryan cries intensified until the bandage was intact. Before long, he was bounding along on his own again, his skinned knee forgotten. Stella loved that about children—how easy it was for them to forget.

“I’m thirsty,” Ryan said. “Really, really thirsty.”

Stella almost laughed at Devon’s expression. He was probably reliving the fish incident and petrified of another meltdown. She fished out a water bottle from her bag, untwisted the cap, and held it out to Ryan. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Devon mouthed in obvious relief.

Ten minutes later, the drink was gone, as well as Ryan’s enthusiasm for the hike. “I’m hungry,” he whined.

Devon turned to Stella, looking drained. “Please tell me you have a snack in that Mary Poppins bag of yours.”

“Of course.” Stella pulled out some black licorice. “But not until you say, ‘Stella Walker is practically perfect in every way.’ ”