“I know, I know. It was wrong. It was bad. It was stupid. I hate that I did it. I hate knowing I hurt you.”
“And Aiden.”
“Yes, and Aiden. You have a perfect right to be angry. But I love you, Reesie.”
“Stop it.”
“I can’t. I’m fighting for my life.”
“For something that’s already over.”
“I don’t believe that.” The rain was suddenly loud against the window, and Teresa turned her head, distracted. She could think only that if the bad weather kept up, the weekend with Frank might be spoiled. Had she distanced herself from Brett that much? She had been overwhelmed with anger at first, but now maybe she was over it. Maybe Brett was right; she had become hard, callused.
“What?” She couldn’t remember what he had been saying.
He looked confused and then tried again to say what he had come to say. “I’ve been in exile because of what I did, and I know I deserved it, but I didn’t think it would be forever. I’ll do whatever you want, but—”
“I want,” she said emphatically, evenly, “for you to leave now. I’m working. Stop bothering me.”
He didn’t move. “I miss you both so much,” he said. “I love you.”
She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to believe it. “Get out,” she said. Unexpected tears blinded her, and when she could see again, Brett was gone.
Chapter 6
It rained Friday night, but Saturday morning the valley was clear and sunny. Teresa turned on the news to check the weather report for the coast. It wasn’t very informative—partly cloudy, temperature in the mid sixties. Clouds were all too common—they had given Grey Harbor its name—but at least it shouldn’t be too cold. She put a light sweater and a warm sweatshirt in her overnight bag.
She had put an annoying amount of thought into her packing. Which pairs of jeans were in best condition? Which T-shirts were most flattering? Should she take a blouse in case they ate at the hotel or an expensive restaurant? A lacy nightgown to look fetching in or pajamas for modesty? What she needed was to be firmly in control of the situation, not to dither like a teenage girl before the junior prom.
Frank was right on time, as always. He grinned at her, happy and relaxed, and took her bag. He pretended to find it heavy and put it in the back seat. “I hope you have a bathing suit in there,” he said.
She shook her head. “I did pack shorts and a halter top for the beach, but it might be too cold. It’s been a while since I wore my bathing suit. It probably wouldn’t fit me.”
He shook his head. “I bet you haven’t gained a pound since high school.”
“You’d lose the bet. I had a baby, Frank.”
“Yeah, I guess you did, but it doesn’t show.” He opened the passenger door for her. He had a bag, smaller than hers, and an open-top cardboard box in the back seat. She could see sunscreen, an insulated cooler bag, and the red cross of a first-aid kit in the box. He had thought of everything.
He got in, glanced at her to be sure she had her seatbelt on, and started the car. “Tell me about him,” he said. “Your boy.”
“Aiden,” she said. “I don’t think you’ve ever used his name.”
“I guess—it’s one of those cute, modern names. Sort of trendy?”
“It’s also a very old Irish name.”
“Did you choose it?”
“I think it was pretty mutual. We considered a lot of names and decided we liked it best.”
“So what’s he like—Aiden?”
“Shy with new people,” she said, “but pretty fearless in other ways. Smart. He’s already a good reader, and he picked up sign language really fast. ”
“Was he born deaf?”
“No, they think it was from a high fever.”
“So it’s not genetic. That’s good. I looked up some stuff on cochlear implants. I guess it’s a better option when they’re not born deaf, but the sooner the better, right?”
“They say nine is the upper limit for the best outcome, but even adults can benefit.”
“We’ll have to see what we can do,” he said, as if it were nothing. “I know some doctors—we might be able to work something out.”
“We? You haven’t even met him!” He was only trying to be nice, but he had skipped several steps in their relationship without her permission.
“We’ll talk about it another time,” he said soothingly. “Does he see his dad?”
“No,” she said shortly. “It’s better that way.”
“You would know,” he said and then changed the subject. “I thought we’d head straight to Genoa and work our way up the coast. Stop wherever we want—I’d like to see the lighthouses and the aquarium and so on. We could go whale watching or, you know, whatever you’d like. I aim to please.”
Teresa gestured toward the cooler bag in the back seat. “Did you pack a lunch?”
“No, just bottled water and snack bars, in case, but there are lots of good places to eat. They cater to tourists, so jeans are fine. You look very pretty today, by the way. That’s a good color for you. Cute shoes, too.”
Teresa laughed. “Who told you to say that?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, but his feigned innocence was clearly a joke.
“Somebody told you women like it if you compliment their shoes. These are for comfort, not fashion.”
“I told you I knew a lot of girl secrets. But let’s make a pact—no bullshit between us.”
“That works for me.”
“Okay, I didn’t really notice your shoes, but it is a good color on you, and you look prettier every time I see you. I’m secretly hoping it’s because of me. I’m easily deluded.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” she said, laughing. “I wear T-shirts most of the time because they’re cheap and comfortable, but I also like them. They have a lot of scope for self-expression. They can show where you’ve been or what you think. This one—”
“Is blue, which I know is your favorite color.”
“Yes, and I like butterflies, but it also has a religious message.”
“Beauty abounds?”
“Oh, you are observant. That, in a nutshell, is my entire religious philosophy. The universe is so full of beauty that you can only stand in awe. I try to look for it every day, wherever I am.” She was a little embarrassed to have been so candid about something so personal, but he had asked for no bullshit.
“I think we’re headed in the right direction, then,” he said. “Did you see the rainbow the other day? It was right after I talked to you.”
“Yes, it was beautiful.”
“I thought maybe it was an omen. Does that sound dumb?”
“A SWAT cop who believes in omens? Not at all.”
“Oh, trust me, cops are very superstitious. I’ll take you to a police bar sometime and introduce you to some of my friends—rabbit’s feet, lucky charms, you name it.”
“I don’t blame them. It’s dangerous, what you do.”
“Everything is dangerous if you’re careless. Training, preparation, focus, attention to detail—you do the job right, and it’s a walk in the park.”
“Which I wouldn’t do after dark.”
“Yes, and you could get bitten by a rabid dog.”
“I have had a few cat scratches, but nobody shoots at me.”
“Nobody is shooting at anybody today. My phone isn’t even on—somebody’s covering for me this weekend—and all we have to do is relax and look for the beauty.” He gestured toward the trees lining the road. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he said.
Teresa was feeling more relaxed by the minute. “Beauty isn’t only visual,” she said. “How ’bout some music?”
Frank touched something on the steering wheel. “What would you like? I have about seventy music stations on this thing. Pop, rock, country, gospel, jazz, classical—pick a decade.”
“This is a lot of car,” she said admiringly. “Do you mind country?”
“
I like country—how about this?” He touched the center screen on the dashboard, and the interior was flooded with rich sound. She recognized the voice of Kris Kristofferson. “Outlaw country for a girl nicknamed Terror.”
“I think we just might be compatible,” she said.
****
The weather was overcast and cool at the coast. Genoa was the home of the Oceanfront Aquarium, which Teresa had visited once as a child, but it had been enlarged since then and was far more impressive. Strolling through it, hand in hand with Frank, she said, “Aiden would love this!”
“Next time,” he said comfortably.
She had no trouble finding beauty here—floor-to-ceiling tanks of clear blue water filled with darting, shining fish of every color and pattern, intricate coral formations, and her favorite sea anemones. “Look at this one!” she exclaimed, pointing out a very bright yellow fish. She almost turned around to find Aiden and call his attention to it. Had it been too long since she had done anything like this without him? Studying the hermit crabs, she said, “He would even like these ugly things.”
“You miss him.” It was matter-of-fact, neither censure nor sympathy.
“Yes,” she admitted, “I’m a mom pretty much 24/7. It’s hard to turn off.”
“Don’t try,” he said. “We’ll get something for him in the gift shop.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she said, “and I did appreciate you wanting to include him.”
She didn’t see anything suitable in the gift shop and was browsing through the postcards when Frank came over with a T-shirt—“Look at this; they change colors in the sunlight. What size would he wear?”
“Six or eight.” She automatically checked the price tag.
“I’ve got it,” he said. He showed her another shirt. “Which would he like—sharks or seahorses?”
“Sharks, but Frank—”
“I’ve got it,” he said again and turned away. When she came up to him at the cash register, he already had his credit card out, and he took the postcards she had selected out of her hand and added them to his purchases—not one, but two child-size T-shirts, a stuffed clown fish, and a light blue V-neck with a sea anemone design.
She didn’t want to make a scene in the store, but outside she said, “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Okay,” he said, “let’s have this discussion and get it out of the way. I have money. I like to spend it. I like spending it on people I care about. You are struggling to make ends meet on a nothing salary, far less than you deserve. It makes me happy to buy things for you. I know you don’t want to feel obligated, but you don’t have to. This is a no-cost, no-obligation trip. The money I’m spending is nothing to me—it’s like I offered you a glass of water. Time is valuable. Money is not.”
“It is when you don’t have it.”
“But I do. I can throw it away and not even think about it. Spending money to make people happy is the only way to give it value. Spending time with me, precious time you could spend with your son, is a great gift. I owe you. And please believe this—I know the difference between a woman like you and someone who can be bought. You are not obliged to do anything except relax and have a good time.”
She took a deep breath. She wanted to protest, but what could she say? He seemed so sincere, so plausible. She did feel obligated, but she wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to because of it. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll try. How did you know I liked the sea anemones?”
“Oh, I have my ways!” He took her hand. “Shall we head down to the beach? I think it’s a little bit rocky here, but the view is worth it.”
“Okay,” she said again. They went back to the car, and Teresa took her camera out of her bag. Frank gave it a critical glance. “I know it’s not fancy,” she said, trying not to sound apologetic, “but I like simple. Point and shoot.”
“I use my phone,” he said. “Let me see yours.”
“My phone?” He nodded, and she dug it out of her purse.
He raised an eyebrow. “Pretty basic,” he said. “Can you even text on that thing?”
“No, but—”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said. “We’ll get one for Aiden, too. If he’s learning to read, he can learn to text. It would be a great way for you to communicate with him.”
“Frank!” She stood rooted to the ground. “Back up! You’re going too far!”
She was afraid he would be angry, thinking this was the point he had already made, but he grinned. “You are a terror,” he said. “It’s okay—keep drawing your lines. I like you better for it.” He kissed her quickly, lightly, and took her hand again.
After admiring the panorama from the beach, they hiked back up. As they got into the car, he glanced at his watch. “We should decide where to eat lunch,” he said. “There’s a good seafood place here, or we could go a little farther. He nodded toward the glove compartment. “You’ll find a map in there. Look and see which is closer—Oxhead Lighthouse or Seal Cove.”
Teresa obediently opened the glove compartment. “I would have thought a fancy car like this would have GPS.”
“It does. It’s programmed for Grey Harbor. The map should be right in front.”
It was. So was a pair of handcuffs. She held them up and handed the map to him. “You don’t have a gun in here, do you?” she asked.
“No, but there’s riot gear in the trunk.”
“Really?” It made his job seem very real. She was still dangling the handcuffs. “I’ve always been kind of fascinated by these,” she said.
He looked up from the map. “You mean like Fifty Shades of Grey?”
She laughed. “No. I haven’t read it, but no, nothing like that. Maybe it’s the romance of police work.”
“It’s not very romantic in real life,” he said, “but I could try those on you sometime.”
“No, thanks.” She hoped he was joking.
“Let’s go on up to the lighthouse,” he said, refolding the map. “The restaurant close by is a good one, if I remember rightly.”
“Good like the Perfect Place?”
“No, no lobster linguini. More like sandwiches and tacos.”
They drove north, stopping twice to take pictures of ocean views. It was noon when they pulled up in front of the Ox Head Family Restaurant. The name of the lighthouse was derived from the shape of the headland it sat on, but the restaurant décor was more literal, with steer horns everywhere. It was very casual, with bench seating, wooden tables, and plenty of families in evidence.
Teresa looked automatically at the children’s menu, which included peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches as well as macaroni and cheese, and then decided on the tuna melt. It came with French fries, which she almost never allowed herself. Frank chose fish and chips. It all proved delicious, and they found another trait in common—generous use of catsup on the thick, salty French fries and stopping as soon as they were no longer hot.
Afterward in the gift shop, Frank wanted to buy Aiden a toy shark. “It would be too much of a good thing,” she told him firmly. “He’s not used to so much all at once.”
“Maybe it’s time you both got used to it,” he said, but he put the shark back on the shelf. He continued to browse while she visited the ladies’ room, and when they got to the car he slipped a bracelet onto her wrist. It wasn’t anything expensive, just blue glass beads strung on elastic.
“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “It reminded me of you. But then, everything reminds me of you.”
“Don’t say things like that,” she protested lightly. “Thank you. It’s very pretty. Next time I get to buy you something.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see what you’ll pick out,” he said. “It could be very revealing.”
They climbed the long, winding flight of stairs to the lighthouse. The view from the top was breathtaking. The sun was breaking through the cloud cover, and the water sparkled with glittering light. “How’s this for beauty?” he asked.
They to
ured the keeper’s house and climbed the narrow steps to the light. Slightly breathless from the ascent, they leaned on the parapet and surveyed the ocean view. A strong breeze ruffled their hair. “It’s so peaceful way up above everything like this,” Teresa said. Just then a group of youngsters crowded through the door from the stairwell, talking loudly, tinny sounds leaking from their earbuds.
Frank and Teresa laughed and headed back down, hands linked companionably. They stopped in the gift shop but bought only postcards. The sun was definitely warmer outside when they emerged. “I think it’s going to be nice after all,” he said. “Maybe we should try to get to Grey Harbor early and spend some time on the beach. We could even go sailing.”
“Whatever you want,” she said. She felt, if not reckless, at least ready for what the day might bring.
They stopped at Seal Cove but didn’t stay long. It had a balcony for whale watching, but no sightings had been made for two days, and the seals were drowsing in the sun. In the gift shop, Teresa bought Frank a coffee mug with a spouting whale design because she liked the color. He seemed pleased with her choice.
Chapter 7
When they arrived in Grey Harbor, it was sunny and warmer. Frank gestured toward a small shopping center and suggested they could buy Teresa a new bathing suit, but she declined. “Shall we see if we can check in early and use the room to change for the beach?” he suggested.
Teresa hesitated. It was early enough to cancel the reservation, enjoy more of the sights, and drive back to Cougar tonight. It would still have been a good time, and she would be with Aiden tonight and not at risk for making a fool of herself. Was that what she was afraid of? He had insisted there would be no pressure, but he had tried to talk his way into her bedroom after their second date—did she really believe they could spend a night in the same room without anything happening? If she said yes now, would she be consenting to everything else that could follow, as Brett had when he drank the first beer that led to his infidelity?
But of course she would not be cheating on Brett—the relationship was over; he was the past. Frank was very possibly the future. I’m an adult, she reminded herself. I’m in control. “Okay,” she said.
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