The Beach House (30 page)

Cara felt her heart accelerate. “So, do you think he might come to the house?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice low with fear. “I told him not to.”

“Okay, good. What did
he
say? Exactly?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Something about how I couldn’t tell him what to do, and if he comes, he’s taking me back with him.” Her voice was beginning to tremble. “I know when he talks like that, soft and kinda weird, that he’s really mad.”

“There’s no point panicking. It can’t be good for your baby. Why don’t you drink some of your juice and then you can tell me more about the man.”

Toy nodded, settling down. She sipped some juice, then followed Cara’s lead and ate more of her sandwich. Although Cara’s outward appearance was calm, she was very worried and fighting off the urge to run home and lock all the doors.

“What does Darryl do for a living?” she wanted to know.

“Well, what he really wants to do is play in his band. He’s really good. You should hear him. It’s kind of country rock. He writes his own songs, too. Wrote one about me. He keeps talking about going to California so he can get noticed. He says there’s no one gonna discover him around here. All he needs is one break and he’s going to make it.”

Cara didn’t care for the sound of pride in Toy’s voice. “Does he support himself with his music?”

“No. Not yet, anyway. He works other jobs. Last job he had was at Best Buy selling stereos and stuff like that. Before that he tended bar. He likes to be around music.”

“Tended bar? How old is this guy?”

“Twenty-four.”

“
Twenty-four?
But you just turned eighteen. How old were you when you started going out with him?”

“Sixteen, but I didn’t move in with him until I was seventeen,” she hastened to explain. “He said I was too young before.”

“And he didn’t think a high school girl of sixteen was too young for a twenty-two-year-old man? Doesn’t he know the law, for Christ’s sake? Toy, one false move from him and you could send his butt to jail.”

“I don’t want to do that! I told you, I love him and he’s been real good to me. He took care of me when my parents were so mean.”

All Cara could think was how utterly horrid the parents must be to let their underage daughter go off with an older man like that. “Do you think this Darryl still loves you?” When Toy only looked down and shrugged she asked, “Well, more to the point, do you think he still feels that he owns you? Because if he does, then I’d say it’s likely he’ll show up.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Really. I was just lonely for him and wanted to hear his voice. I didn’t think that he could trace me. Are you sure he can get the address?”

“If he wants to find you, he can. We should be prepared in any event. I don’t want him bothering my mother.”

“Oh, don’t worry that he’ll do anything to Miss Lovie or to you! He’s not crazy like that. If he comes, he’ll just come for me. And I’ll go with him so there won’t be no trouble.”

“Oh, yes, there
will
be trouble if that jerk thinks we’ll let him force you back.” Despite her resolve, she’d raised her voice at the thought of some bully dragging Toy away against her will.

“I don’t want any trouble, Cara,” she said, fear in her eyes. “Maybe I should just leave.”

“I know you don’t want trouble,” she said in a softer tone. “That never crossed my mind. But if there
is
trouble, is there anyplace else you could go? Just for a few days? Not for our sakes, but for yours. How about your mother’s? Just for a night?”

“No. They don’t want me back and I’d never go back, either. That’s how I ended up going to the shelter in the first place. If I don’t stay here, the only place left is the shelter. Or I could just go back with Darryl.”

“That’s out of the question. Besides, you’d only face this situation again sooner or later.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. “No, it’s best you stay put. We’ll work it out somehow.”

“Cara, as much as I love living with you and Miss Lovie—I mean, it’s as close as I’ve ever come to having a real home—maybe it’s better that I go with Darryl now.”

Cara put her elbows on the table and tapped her lips at the innuendo. At times like this she was sorry she’d given up smoking. She studied Toy’s face and saw again the stubborn determination that she’d seen in her eyes the first time they’d met. “Just answer me this. Do you
want
to go back to him?”

Toy only stared back, her blue eyes limpid with indecision.

Cara shook her head. “Oh, Toy…”

“I’m so confused! I don’t know what to do,” she cried, bringing her hand to her forehead. “I still love him. I don’t want to lose him. He’s the father of my baby.” She threw up her hands and sat back in a huff. “And now you’re all mad at me. Or disgusted.”

“No, no, Toy, I’m not mad. And certainly not disgusted. These are your feelings. And while I may not agree with them, I accept that’s how you feel. What I’m most concerned about now is your safety, and your baby’s safety.”

“I’m scared for my baby, too. I’m not worried about what he might do to me.”

“You should be, Toy. Don’t forget, he’s raised his hand to you once already. You can’t give him another chance.”

“I won’t. But he won’t want to do it, either.”

“Do you want to take the risk with your baby?”

“No.”

“Okay then. It sounds to me like you’re not ready to go back to Darryl. At least not yet.”

Toy shook her head.

“Then that’s settled. You’ll stay with us. But if he calls again, will you tell me?”

“He won’t.”

“But if he does?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“And anything else. Notes, flowers, but especially if he comes to the cottage. You have to tell me. That’s all I ask.”

“Okay.”

Cara could only hope she would. She swore she would not let Darryl take advantage of this child again and was suddenly glad at the prospect of having Brett around the house for the next few weeks. She made a point of picking up her fork and jabbing at her salad to lighten the mood. If she ate a bite, however, she’d choke. Across from her, Toy was despondent. Cara wouldn’t let that bastard Darryl ruin their day.

“I was thinking,” she said, changing the subject and striving for a positive note. “If you’re not too tired, let’s really splurge and get manicures. The yard work has ruined my nails. I’ve heard raves about a salon called Shear Paradise. And since it’s your eighteenth birthday, why not get your hair done? Something new. I’m told Terri is a wizard. What do you say I try and get an appointment?”

“Really? I’ve seen that place. Are you sure?”

Cara looked at Toy’s face. A makeover was just what she had in mind, but for much more than just her hair and clothes. Beneath the heavy makeup and bright-yellow hair Cara saw an insecure young girl seeking direction. Toy had a good heart and a sharp mind. All she needed was a chance. “I’m sure.”

A waitress came to take their plates.

“No, don’t take that!” Toy said when the waitress reached for her dessert. Toy picked up her fork and began cutting into the pecan pie covered with melting vanilla ice cream.

Cara watched as the waitress gave Toy’s pregnant belly a second look. The waitress couldn’t have been any older than Toy but with her tight, cropped knit top exposing a flat belly and beaded jewelry, it was obvious that this girl lived in a different world than Toy. Cara leaned forward. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but did you get your high school diploma?”

Toy shook her head. “I couldn’t. I mean, I
could
have, but my being pregnant and all made it, you know, too embarrassing. And Darryl didn’t want me to. He told me I didn’t need it. I just figured if I wanted to, I could get it later.”

“And do you want it?”

She looked up, surprised by the question. “I guess.”

“Good. Because you really should get it. Why don’t we look into the GED? I’ll bet if you study real hard, you could take the test by the end of summer. I’ll tutor.”

“Why would you want to do that for me?”

Cara folded her hands on the table. “I was just thinking. If I’d had a child when I was your age, she would be about your age. I know, I know,” she said with a chuckle. “The thought surprised me, too. But after I got over the shock that I was old enough to be your mother, I thought how neat it would be if I did have a child your age. A daughter like you.”

Toy set down her fork. “I never knew you thought that way about me.”

“We may have gotten off to a bumpy start, but I think we’ve both learned to trust each other a little bit. And like each other, too. Don’t you?”

She nodded. “I got a hint after you took down Palmer for me.”

“I’ll probably never have a child,” she said, giving voice to the realization for the first time. “Or a grandchild. So it would mean a lot to me if you’d let me help you.”

Toy swiftly looked down at her belly and began to stroke it with her small hands. “It’s weird, but when I was little and my mama and daddy would fight, I’d put the covers over my head and wish I could be adopted by some other family. A real nice family with a pretty house and people who smiled and talked to each other and said goodbye when they left the house.” She looked up at Cara, yearning swimming in her pale blue eyes.

“I’ve been so happy at Primrose Cottage. It’s like what I dreamed of back then, like you and Miss Lovie have adopted me. But you haven’t, of course,” she hurried to add, as though embarrassed for the sentiment. “I’m grown-up now. And having a baby to boot. But I want you to know that what you just said means a lot to me. A whole lot.”

Cara’s breath stilled in her throat as the impact of that statement sank in. She knew what it had cost Toy to make it. They’d both exposed their vulnerable spots and now everything had changed between them. Cara reached out to place her hand over Toy’s. It was an impulsive move, a heartfelt gesture. But when she looked at their joined hands, Cara realized that she was imitating her mother’s familiar gesture.

Up to eighteen thousand loggerheads per season nest in the southeastern United States, the bulk of them on the eastern beaches of Florida. Sea turtles travel long distances as they migrate between their feeding grounds and nesting beaches. Although there are many theories, no one is certain how the turtles navigate their way.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A
mid a whirlwind of buzzing saws, hammering and shouts, Brett and his crew managed to finish the porch and pergola by the end of June. They’d all squeezed the project in between other jobs and worked around the clock on the days they could get there. Cara hired another crew to help paint not only the porch, but the whole house as well. Everyone’s spirits soared as the beach house quickly took shape. As Lovie exclaimed, it was as if God had picked up the dusty place, given it a good shake, then placed it back on the earth and smoothed out all the wrinkles.

No one beamed more than Lovie. She felt like her old self as she made decisions again. It was painful to admit, but she was beginning to feel sorry for herself. Of course, she was thrilled to see the restoration begin, but sitting in her rocker she’d felt damaged, not knowing from one day to the next if she was going to spend what was left of her life rotting in a chair and watching television. She’d given up control over her finances to Stratton, then to Palmer without much concern. Yet the home and garden had always been
her
territory. It seemed to her that she and Primrose Cottage had both been devastated—one by hurricane, the other by cancer.

When the project began she’d tried to keep out of the way. A few months earlier, Cara might not even have noticed her mother sitting alone in her rocker on the sidelines. But she noticed now—and Cara dragged her into the decision making. Cara pressed Lovie to find the exact yellow paint match for the house, to consider where the old palm trees had been before Hugo ripped them out and to choose where to place new ones. She brought her countless catalogues and had Toy drive her to nurseries to choose the number and variety of climbing rosebushes to match those that had once thrived so magnificently over the pergola. Most of all, Cara insisted that Primrose Cottage belonged to Olivia Rutledge and always would.

And her plan worked. Lovie felt alive again, in ways she hadn’t in many years. When she directed the planting of the seven new palm trees around the property, she felt as she did the day she had first bought the little house on the beach. There were so few houses on the island at that time and so many trees. And though Cara did the physical labor of tilling and adding new soil, Lovie herself planted the new, blaze-red climbing rosebushes that would someday arch over the pergola.

Each morning of the three weeks of construction, Lovie awoke with a prayer of thanks to God. First, she was glad just to be waking up. She also thanked God for the simple routines that filled the days and hearts of the ladies of Primrose Cottage and brought them closer together.

Finally, on the morning the porch was finished and the workmen did not come with their hammers and saws, a quiet peace was restored. Lovie stood alone in the garden, breathing in the sweet-scented air and taking in all the changes. Through the window she saw Toy bustling inside, cleaning the house and cooking a hot breakfast. She hummed as she waltzed through the rooms. Cara was visible across the road walking along the beach path wearing her green Turtle Team shirt, the red bucket dangling from her arm. Lovie watched her march with the confidence of a natural born leader. In addition to all her records and equipment, Cara carried with her all of Lovie’s hopes and dreams.

Lovie took a deep breath, feeling as one who had run the long race and just passed the torch. It wasn’t so bad being old, she thought. She didn’t have to rush off anywhere to get something done. It was nice to stand back and see the wildflowers blooming again, maybe think where she might add a few new ones. And it was very nice to stand on a hilly dune in the early morning and watch the wonder of a miracle happening right before her eyes.