Abby was expecting to find Rob naked and reclining in her bed. Instead, he was sitting in her club chair, fully dressed. He’d turned the side table lamp on dim. He lifted a piece of note paper from beneath the light and handed it to her, his lips set in the simultaneous up and down curl of apology.
Dear Abby,
Went back home. I’m sorry.
Love,
Tessa
How could Tessa have gone home? Her home was here.
Abby covered her mouth, shook her head. “I messed up. I should’ve offered to take Tessa and the baby in for a few years, same way my mother helped me. Now I’m going to lose both of them. Oh my God. What kind of a mother am I?”
“You’re not her mother, Abby.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m the closest thing to a mother she has.” Abby blew out a breath, and her gaze darted around the room. “Think, Abby, think.” She drummed her fingers on the dresser, but they couldn’t keep up with her pulse.
Rob stood and handed Abby her cell from the dresser. “Try her cell.”
“Thank you. Yes. Right. Logic.” The call went immediately to voice mail. “It’s off.” She laughed, the type of giggle that threatened to whir out of control. “Probably left her cell on overnight in her car again.”
“Try her father.”
“Gosh, no. He’s an ass. Plus, what could he do at this point? I’ll have to go after her.” Doing something was almost always better than sitting still.
Rob stood up, probably to try and talk sense into the crazy momma she’d become. “I’ll drive,” he said, volunteering for the mission.
“I’m fine. I’ve driven to Amherst before.” Not alone or at night, but that was beside the point.
“Then we’ll take turns,” he said, but she didn’t believe him. “We’ll start fresh, first thing in the morning.”
“I could get there by morning. Besides, it’s not even that late yet. If she’d gone to the party—wait a minute! Hannah invited Tessa to a party on Head Beach. She could still be there.” Abby scrolled to Hannah on her cell. After three rings, the call went to voice mail. She answered Rob’s gaze with a frown and shook her head. “Hannah, it’s Abby. I’m looking for Tessa. If you see her, have her call me right away.”
“She’d go to a party on the way out of town?”
“She promised Hannah,” Abby said, thinking of Tessa’s mother, and the broken promise that had crushed Tessa. Mothers weren’t ever supposed to leave their children, or give up on them. “It’s worth a shot.” Abby snapped up her keys from the dresser.
Rob covered her hand with his. “I’m still driving.”
“I’m still fine,” she said, and then her pulse thrummed an erratic beat all the way to the parking lot at Head Beach.
“There’s her car!” Abby said.
Rob hit the brake, and Abby jumped from Rob’s truck.
“Wait a sec—” he called, but she was already racing toward the familiar dune grass trail. He caught up with her, and they slowed to a race walk.
Out on the beach, disembodied voices tweaked her ears. A group came into view, sketchy gray-on-black outlines you’d see in a dream. Or a memory.
Nineteen years ago, Abby had walked the same path along this beach and come upon the same type of group. For a few precious hours, she’d pretend she was just single, rather than a single mom. She’d pretend she’d nothing to worry about, other than sidling up to a hot guy and getting a little much-needed attention. The kind that made her feel special and loved and needed.
Until the next day, when she’d feel nothing at all.
A couple dozen kids sat in a circle, with subgroups of three or four, but the predominant configuration was two: a boy and a girl wound around each other. Off to the side, a boy sat on a cooler, guitar by his feet, beer in hand.
She didn’t see Tessa.
The group quieted, and a few of the wound-together couples disengaged. Wasn’t that—?
“Hey, Abby! What’s going on?” Hannah called to Abby from her perch, sitting atop driftwood and some boy’s lap. Her voice sounded casual, but she jumped from the lap and rearranged her off-kilter top.
“Where’s Tessa?” Abby ran her gaze over the crowd, pausing at the few girls whose faces were pressed to boys. None of them was Tessa.
“Uh, she went off with Derrick.” Hannah turned toward the kid sitting on the cooler, pounding a beer.
“Are you Derrick?” Abby asked.
The boy set his beer on the cooler and wiped his mouth with the inside collar of his T-shirt. “That would be me.” He stood up and took his time walking over to them. Half in the bag from beers or full of himself? Then he stopped too close to Abby and fixed his unapologetic gaze on her breasts.
Abby took a step back.
Rob took a step toward the kid and widened his stance.
“Where is she?” Abby asked.
Derrick shrugged and ran his tongue over his lower lip. He rubbed at the side of his neck, and his head swayed. “Beats the hell out of me. We were watching the fireworks over on the rocks, and then I came back to the beach.”
“You left her there?” Abby said. The rocks were tricky to navigate in the light of day. Even if you weren’t pregnant and knew the coast. Even if the night wasn’t half a shade lighter than pitch. Even if you didn’t already feel all alone in the world.
Chills ran across Abby’s shoulders and down her arms. Pressure built behind her eyes. And the smell of the ocean sharpened in her nose, on her tongue. Abby hadn’t sensed the moment Luke was in trouble. But she was certain she was in danger of losing her girl.
Hang on, baby.
Rob glared at the kid. “You brought Tessa up to the rocks and then came back without her?”
Derrick tossed his hair from his face and stumbled a bit in place. In the bag and full of attitude. “Hey, man, I thought she was following behind me.”
“Hey, man, that’s bullshit,” Rob said, the first time Abby had heard him curse.
“Describe where you were,” Abby told Derrick. She wasn’t about to follow some drunk clown out onto the coastline rocks in the middle of the night. She hadn’t done anything that dumb in half a lifetime.
“I dunno, rocks. We were hanging out above the funky vertical rocks.”
“Vertical?” Rob said.
“Stratified,” Abby said. “I know what he’s talking about. Surprisingly.”
The sky brightened enough for Abby to make out Derrick’s tattoo. Heart on his sleeve, as if he were sensitive about anyone but himself. “Let’s go!” Abby said, and then she and Rob started off toward the rocks.
“Tessa!” Abby called.
Rob’s deep voice cut through the darkness. “Tessa!”
“What if she can’t remember which way she came?” Abby said.
“She’ll find her way,” Rob said, his tone sincere and self-assured. “She made it to your doorstep. Girl’s resourceful.”
“True enough,” Abby said, but her chest ached, and every inhalation stopped halfway to her belly. When she found her girl, she was going to give her what for, really lace into her.
Don’t you ever scare me like that again!
Then Abby would make sure that infuriating girl understood how much she loved her, and her baby. Abby would make Tessa understand she couldn’t live without either of them.
They were at the coastal rocks, staring up into the steep and uneven climb.
When Luke had been fourteen, she’d chased him to this beach and found him with a beer in his hand, an arm looped around an older girl. By the time Luke turned sixteen, Abby had given up the physical chase, letting him go out with staunch warnings about designated drivers and staying away from the water. Just in case specifics didn’t fit the bill, Abby would tell him not to do anything stupid.
Some good that had done her.
Tessa was just like Luke. There was nothing Abby could do to protect her.
Abby’s back convulsed. She doubled over at the waist, and the air rushed out
of her. “Muscle twinge.”
Rob massaged her lower back, digging his fingers into the crimp. “I’ll find her,” he said. “Wait here, and I’ll bring Tessa back to you.”
Abby inhaled, slow and deep, around the pain. She straightened, and forced lightness into her tone. “You’d never find your way without me,” she said. “Without me, you’d be lost.”
Then, one foot in front of the other, she led him into the darkness.
When you’re going through hell, keep going.
In the background, the tides beat the shoreline ragged while, forefront, the famous Winston Churchill quote played in Rob’s head. Wasn’t that the philosophy Rob’s father had adopted back when Mom had gotten the dire brain cancer prognosis? A team of oncologists, neurologists, and other white-coated -ologists sat Rob and his folks down and explained Mom’s options. Best-case scenario: surgery, radiation, and chemo would cause a host of further medical horrors and prolong Mom’s life a few months.
A few more months where she’d still seize, go slowly blind, and lose control of all bodily functions.
Dad had left the office acting as though they’d received good news, as if he hadn’t listened to a word the doctors had said. As if Mom’s last wishes—to halt all treatment and die with dignity—hadn’t even mattered.
Sometimes forward movement only looked like progress.
Abby moved through the darkness, climbing from rock to rock, swift and sure. “Tessa!”
When no answer sounded across the ledge, Rob added his call to the mix. “Tessa!” He wished to God there was something more he could do to help Abby. Five years ago, he’d sent out the same plea. Next day, Mom had phoned with a lawyer’s name and an appointment to sign over her power of attorney.
Not the answer he’d been hoping for, but an answer nonetheless.
Abby paused and made blowing noises, three scraggly huffs.
Rob massaged her shoulder blades until her breathing softened and she resumed the hike.
“I’m okay,” she said, the thing she said when she wasn’t.
Moments ago, he’d seen her bend under the weight of her fears. And then, just as fast, he’d seen determination claw its way to the surface. He’d seen the face of the woman he loved and admired.
When was the last time he’d felt that way about his ex? Years before the divorce. Years before Mom got sick. Mom’s cancer was the last of many relationship stressors Rob had refused to discuss with Maria, the beginning of the end of their disintegrating marriage.
He had no one to blame but himself.
Abby came to the end of the line, or at least to the place she’d decided to halt. Rob rested his hands on her shoulders, and she tilted her head back. She looked left and right, as if she sought Tessa in the sky. “Help me out here, Luke,” Abby said, and a chill skittered up the back of Rob’s neck. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of Abby’s head.
How would he manage if he’d lost Grace? He didn’t want to ever find out, but he strongly suspected he wouldn’t cope nearly as well as Abby. Most mere mortals didn’t deal with adversity half as well as the amazing woman in his arms.
Below them lay the vertical rocks the asshole kid on the beach must’ve been talking about, a seawater alleyway. And then, as far as he could see, the craggy shoreline continued.
Abby put her back to the ocean. Tremors rippled her shoulders. “There’s so much coastline. So many ways she could’ve gotten lost.” Abby shook her head, her jaw set tight. “Earlier tonight, she told me she thinks Luke’s accident was her fault. Then she told me she’s still considering giving Luke’s baby to someone else.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I know it doesn’t make any sense. But she was upset, and we argued. And then that boy, that stupid boy . . . What if she hurt herself? What if—?”
“She’s fine. She wouldn’t hurt herself.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Abby said, and her knowing eyes shone through the darkness. “I’ve been there. It’s not a pretty place.”
Rob couldn’t stand the thought of Abby feeling that way, not even for a second. He couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to help her, even in hindsight.
“Tessa wouldn’t hurt herself,” he repeated, but he could tell from the tilt of her head that she wasn’t convinced. “She wouldn’t hurt the baby,” he added.
Abby straightened. “You’re right. Tessa loves that baby.”
“Besides, she’s too fiery to let a little darkness get in her way. She’s a survivor, like her—She’s like you, Abby.”
If they found Tessa—when they found her—he and Abby would sit down and talk about her plans to adopt her son’s baby. The least Rob could do for the woman he loved. Who cared if the so-called timing wasn’t right? Was there ever a good time to have a baby? The tiny creatures took over your home, your every waking moment, and wended their way into your heart. Grace made Rob’s life worth living.
Abby made his life worth living, too. Any child, or grandchild, of hers came with the package.
Let’s just see what happens.
Yup, sometimes he was an ass. A little unsure and a lot scared as hell. And yet, Abby hadn’t given up on him. She was gunning to be heard, determined to make him listen.
The fiery blonde packed a punch when she was ticked off. When he’d ticked her off.
He wouldn’t let this thing, this amazing relationship, with Abby die from neglect. This time, he wouldn’t screw up.
“We’ll find her. Let’s keep going.” Rob motioned with his head to the right. “If she was disoriented, maybe she got turned around, and headed the wrong way up the coastline instead of back to Head Beach.”
“Uh, uh. No.” Abby turned back around and faced the overhang. “We stay here.”
“Like hugging a tree?”
“Exactly. We hug this spot and wait for Tessa to come back to us.”
Rob wrapped his arms around Abby. They stared down the sharp incline to a V in the rocks, where the tides seemed to rush in and out simultaneously. He’d never had a problem with heights. But a healthy respect for the power of the ocean kept you alive. “Okay, baby. Your call.”
Sometimes making progress only looked like standing still.
The force of the fall propelled Tessa into the ocean, as though she were doing a pencil dive. She held her breath, diving deeper and deeper through cold and darkness. Her arms flailed through the water, trying to halt her descent. Her eyes widened, focusing on nothing. Adrenaline filled her chest, backed into her throat.
Was this how Luke had felt when he was about to die?
She touched a hand to the baby, imagining it floating in its own ocean. Just as dark, but warm and safe and—
Her feet hit bottom, and she pushed toward the surface. Pulled and pulled upward. Her lungs aching for air. Her jaw clenched against the building pressure.
She gasped to the surface, sucking in a greedy breath. Rocks on either side of her, the tide swayed gently toward the open ocean. She treaded water, her belly a firm, tight ball beneath her palm. “We’re okay, we’re okay. We’re—”
A wave smacked her in the face. She swallowed a mouthful of water, sputtered, coughed, tried to catch her breath around—
Another wave barreled over her, pulling her under. She needed air, now. The baby. Air. Inside the wave, she somersaulted, over and over, her arms ineffective against the pull of the tides.
Please, no, my baby.
Pressure built inside her chest, her cheeks, her head. She squeezed her lips together, barring the ocean.
Something dark moved outside the wave, a flash of a fin. And then Tessa saw her: a little girl of about two or three, with long dark hair and gray-blue eyes. Tessa knew that face. She knew her. Knew her and loved her.
She loves me.
A smile filled Tessa’s body, a sweet wash of joy like she’d never felt before, and she relaxed inside the wave. Relaxed inside the love. Relaxed and let her body go slack. Even if she made it home, she’d neve
r be the same again.
For the first time in her life, Tessa stopped fighting.
Abby clutched Tessa’s hand, the two women holding on to each other for dear life.
Tessa reclined halfway on the examining table. Tears streamed down the sides of her face, but she didn’t make a sound. As instructed, she pulled her hospital johnny up to reveal her swollen belly.
Rob stood to Abby’s left, beaming a soft-serious gaze at Tessa. Tessa had asked him to stay. “Warm enough?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he tucked the blanket around her feet.
The ER nurse, Bonnie, wrapped two straps around Tessa’s belly. Then she tucked loose bangs back into her dark ponytail and held up two white discs. “I’m going to attach the transducers to the straps. The top transducer picks up contractions. Hopefully, you’re not having any of those.” Bonnie looked to Tessa and offered her a nod-grin, but Tessa’s gaze was trained on Abby.
“Top disc is for contractions that she’s not having,” Abby said. “Gotcha.”
“Bottom disc monitors your baby’s heart rate,” Bonnie continued. “Normal rate’s one-twenty to one-sixty beats per minute.”
“Baby’s heart rate one-twenty to one-sixty. Excellent.”
Because of Tessa’s fall and the associated risk of placenta abruption, the ER doctor had insisted on a CTG, or non-stress test. But who wouldn’t be stressed after Tessa’s ordeal?
Shortly after Abby’s decision to stay put on the ledge, Luke had answered her plea for help and delivered Tessa onto the seaweed-covered rocks. Rob had carried her up over the rocks and back to the beach, as sure-footed as a local. Abby might’ve believed Tessa was perfectly fine, if it hadn’t been for her insistence that a merbaby had led her from the grasp of a killer wave to the safety of shore. More likely, Tessa had sighted a baby seal. Dark haired and a few feet long, the adorable mammal approximated the description Tessa had given for the girl in her oxygen-deprived hallucination.
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