House on the Beach

by Linda Barrett

  Laura swiveled toward the child. He was leaning back on his elbows, staring at his father. Watching.

  “‘Where seldom is heard…”’ Three voices as Brian joined in.

  “‘A discouraging word,”’ continued the trio.

  “‘And the skies are not cloudy all day.”’ Sam Parker added his baritone at the end.

  Laura listened to the boys and their grandpa carry the tune while Matt harmonized. Casey didn’t miss a note. Not once did he struggle with his words. She knew that during choral recitations or group singing, stuttering almost always disappeared. There was something about speaking or singing in unison that helped, and there was a phrase for it in the literature. She put her fingertips to her forehead and concentrated on remembering everything she’d ever learned about disfluency. “Delayed auditory feedback,” she exclaimed softly to herself. “That’s it.” She’d do a little research. See if anything new was going on in the field.

  She refocused her attention on the men’s chorus and started to hum along. Casey looked at her, and she gave him a thumbs-up. His grin was worth everything.

  The last chorus faded away. Matt walked to Brian, then to Casey, tucking them into their sleeping bags again, reestablishing contact, speaking quietly to each. Then he looked at Sam. “You all set, Pop? Want another pillow?”

  “I’m fine, Matt. Going to close my eyes. You take care of Laura now. Make sure she’s warm enough.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  And then the only noise in the room was the crackling of the fire. Laura watched as Matt added another split log to the stove, then walked across and lowered himself beside her on the floor, legs stretched in front of him. “Ready to go to sleep yet?” He patted the couch behind them. “It’s all yours…unless…you want some company.”

  His dark eyes twinkled. She knew he was teasing but felt herself blush at the thought.

  “You need to feed the fire all night,” she replied.

  “Exactly.” Now her face burned at her ingenuous remark, and she turned away from him for a moment. Having fair skin was a strong disadvantage at times.

  Then she pointed at the stove. “That fire!”

  “Oh,” he said with an air of such mock disappointment that she had to chuckle.

  “If you behave yourself,” she said, “I’ll turn a loaf of bread into the most delicious French toast you ever ate—provided the electricity is on tomorrow morning.”

  “Wow. Serious competition for Dee Barnes at The Diner, huh? I’ll be good,” he promised. “Can’t deprive my family of a home-cooked meal.”

  She didn’t reply, but the silence between them was comfortable as they sat next to each other, staring into the bright orange flames. Matt’s arm was still resting on the couch behind her, and she wanted to lean back and feel the weight of it around her. She’d seen the interest in his eyes, the curiosity and admiration. He’d wrap himself around her with the slightest encouragement.

  So she did nothing except watch the fire. And dream.

  Her eyes closed, her head nodded, and a moment later she was enveloped in a cocoon of warmth beyond the scope of a wood-burning stove. A cocoon of human warmth. She leaned into it and heard a satisfied sigh.

  “Stubborn lady.”

  Whispered words floated in the air around her and then into her semiconscious mind. Tomorrow. I’ll be stubborn tomorrow. But right now, I need…this. I need Matt.

  Matt looked down at the woman in his arms, the woman who, in her sleep, cuddled next to him with the same trust as the kitten had shown her. He’d lined the floor with almost all the blankets in the house, but their makeshift bed still wasn’t the softest place to sleep. He placed a pillow between her back and the couch, and shifted her farther across his chest. Hmm. His arm tightened. Felt good having her there.

  A sudden image of Laura as a teenager flashed through his mind. Long legs, trim body and laughing face. Always in motion. She’d caught his attention that summer, and he remembered his disappointment when her family hadn’t returned the following year. He remembered the kiss they’d shared half his lifetime ago. Sweet, natural, trusting. After he initiated the first light contact, she’d responded and he’d followed her lead, not wanting to rush her, not wanting to scare her away.

  She’d been a happy, outgoing girl. Now she was a quiet, self-contained woman. Intelligent. Articulate. Reserved. He missed her spontaneity. Her laughter. But at least, she had returned.

  He stared at the blond curls, helpless to resist touching them. Stroking them. Then he stared at her profile—creamy skin, short straight nose and long lashes feathering her cheek. He could have studied her for hours.

  Instead, his gaze swept across the room, resting first on his sons, then on his dad, then at the room itself, with the mementos of family living. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the rest of the house. The eat-in kitchen, the dining room with its chronically homework-strewn table, the three bedrooms upstairs. The boys shared the master bedroom while he and his dad had smaller rooms. A sensible arrangement after Sam had moved in. And if Sam’s arthritis got much worse, Matt would build out a bedroom on the first floor. His thoughts moved to the basement, where he’d paneled the walls and laid industrial carpeting on the floor. Instant playroom for his sons. Handy for his own sanity when they were cooped up in the winter.

  He felt good about the house. It was strong and well-built. More important, it was well used. He had turned a house into a home. For the sake of his boys. For his dad. For himself.

  And now it wasn’t enough.

  The thought hit him with the velocity of a fastball to the gut. He looked at the beautiful woman in his arms and was suddenly afraid. Somehow, Laura McCloud had gotten past the armor he’d worn since Valerie’s death. Somehow, she’d managed to crack it open.

  Laura murmured in her sleep and threw her arm across his chest, igniting a band of fire.

  He sucked in air. “Holy Toledo,” he muttered as he shakily exhaled while tucking a blanket more snugly around them both, “It’s going to be one hell of a night.”

  THE SUN’S GLARE WOKE Laura the next morning. She opened her eyes and promptly closed them again, burrowing back into…into what? She groped her immediate surroundings…felt a strong heartbeat under her palm; her leg seemed plastered against a tree trunk. Blankets lay half on and half off, tangled around. She yawned and, little by little, her memory returned. The ice storm. The kitten. Matt’s house. Fully conscious now, she took inventory of her limbs. His limbs. The tree trunk was Matt’s leg. She tried to sit up but was off balance and fell back to where she’d started, her head on Matt’s shoulder.

  “What’s your hurry?” Matt’s low voice sounded like a rumbling locomotive. “Look around. Everyone’s still sleeping.”

  She couldn’t respond immediately. She was using all her energy to pretend that waking up on top of a man was no big deal. Be cool, Laura. Matt’s fully dressed and so are you. You haven’t been sleeping together in the real sense. You’ve been camping out indoors. That’s all. Talking to herself wasn’t a bad thing, was it?

  She felt his arm come around her back, lightly holding her next to him, and God help her, she didn’t want to budge. Get a grip, girl!

  She looked over at the boys. They were still in their sleeping bags.

  “And besides,” Matt continued, squeezing her closer, “I like you next to me like this.”

  “You’re just looking for creature comfort.” She gave voice to her thoughts with a touch of desperation.

  He was silent for a moment. “You must be right,” he conceded, matching her quiet diction. “I was scared stiff of the storm and desperately needed your comfort.” But his eyes were twinkling, revealing the truth.

  Of course, he hadn’t been frightened of the storm, of the ice, of the driving! He hadn’t been frightened of anything.

  “I haven’t had any kind of relationship with a woman in four years, Laura, other than occasionally…well, never mind that.” No humor laced his words now, and Laur
a was startled at the complete change of mood.

  “Haven’t wanted a relationship,” he continued. “Haven’t looked for one. But with you…there’s something about you. I like having you here. In my home. With my family.” He stared at the ceiling as he spoke, not meeting her eyes.

  If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was either embarrassed about his feelings or afraid of her. But he didn’t have to be. She had no intention of threatening his way of life.

  “Thank you for making me feel welcome here, Matt. Your friendship means a lot to me, but you can relax. I’m not looking for an intimate relationship, either. I actually prefer my privacy.” She tried to laugh. “As the great old-time actress said, ‘I vant to be alone.”’

  He looked down at her then, straight into her eyes. She couldn’t turn away. “When did you start lying to yourself?” asked Matt.

  “Lying? What are you talking about?”

  “You no more want to live the rest of your life alone than the birds and the bees do,” Matt replied.

  This time she managed to sit up. “How can you say that? You don’t know me!”

  “I just spent a night with you, Laura. You’re the cuddler type.”

  She felt the heat travel from her chest to her neck and face. He had a way of disconcerting her without trying very hard.

  “Laura,” he whispered, tenderly stroking her cheek. “Don’t be distressed. We both slept well last night. Very well.”

  That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  “I know you’re grieving for your mom, Laura, and that your energies have been used up in recent times. In fact, you’ve probably been exhausted lately. But, honey, I’m here to tell you that you’re alive and healthy. You’re just a little off course about life right now. Trust me, your needs and emotions are as normal as anyone’s.”

  She knew that, but she also knew she couldn’t give in to them. She couldn’t expect him to understand; he didn’t know everything about her. And he never would. But for now, she’d allow him to believe whatever he wanted to.

  She smiled and rose from the floor. “I treasure my friends, Matt. Can we leave it at that?”

  He got up in one fluid motion. “I’ll be here for you.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. Her old boyfriend, Donald Crawford, had said the same thing during her mom’s illness. She mentally shrugged. Matt’s actions didn’t matter in the long run. She’d be gone in another two months anyway.

  “Is the electricity back yet?” she asked, changing the subject. “And the kitten! Where’s the kitten?” She began a frantic search.

  “Yup, it’s back. Haven’t fed the fire in three hours. And look over there.” Matt nodded at the black tail sticking out from Casey’s partially zipped sleeping bag.

  “Well, what do you know about that?”

  “A good dad deserves a good breakfast. I promised French toast and I’m going to deliver.”

  He smiled, his black eyes glittering. “I have no doubt. No doubt at all.”

  AN HOUR LATER, all Laura was worried about was having enough bread to satisfy the appetites of the four Parker men. Brian polished off six slices of the fried bread after drenching his plate in maple syrup, while Casey ate four.

  “Good Lord,” she said. “I can’t remember Alison and I ever eating more than two slices at a time.”

  “That’s cause you’re girls. Girls don’t eat a lot. They want to be skinny.” That was Brian’s pronouncement.

  “Ka-Ka-a-tie eats a lot and she’s s-s-skinny,” replied Casey, wrinkling his face.

  “That’s cause she’s still a kid,” said Brian. “Just like you.”

  “I w-w-wish I—I—I was big-ger,” said Casey.

  “You will be, sport,” Matt said. “Growing just takes time.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “Too long.”

  Laura remembered feeling the very same way when she was young. “What’s the hurry?” she asked. “Anything in particular?”

  Casey glanced at Brian, then down. “No. Nothing.” He turned to Laura. “What you going to name the kitten? Are you going to keep it?” He stuttered on and off as he spoke.

  Laura sat down and placed her coffee cup on the table. She began cutting her food. “Good questions, Casey. And the answer to both is the same—I don’t know.”

  “How come?” Brian asked, his curiosity tinged with concern. “The kitten’s cute.”

  “First, I need to make sure she’s healthy. Is there a veterinarian in town?” She aimed her question at the group in general, and this time Sam Parker answered.

  “We’ve got a new one. Name of Fielding. Opened a practice near the neck.”

  “The neck?”

  “That’s where the peninsula starts giving way to the mainland,” Matt spoke up. “Not too far from Sea View House. I’ll show you later.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  He grinned.

  She leaned back in her chair, comfortable with this family, glad she was able to prepare the simple meal and make it seem festive. She noted the magnets on the refrigerator holding a variety of papers, the simple Cape Cod curtains on the windows through which she could see the sun sparkling on the melting ice. “Amazing change,” she murmured, nodding at the outdoor scene.

  “Just Old Man Winter drawing his last breath is all,” said Matt. “I’m betting on spring making a showing by next week.”

  “Optimist,” Sam said, before insisting that he and the boys take on the cleanup chores and shooing Laura and Matt away.

  “You’re so obvious, Pop,” Matt said with a grin, leading Laura back to the living room.

  Blankets still littered the place, which Laura started to pick up and fold. Matt did the same. She paused to examine the room in more detail than she had been able to the night before in the dim light of the fire.

  There was a large upright piano in rich mahogany at the opposite end of the long room. A handsome wall-to-wall bookcase unit encompassed an entertainment center. Books and a variety of framed photos displayed on every shelf. She stepped closer and recognized Matt and the boys in several. Saw Sam and a woman standing close together probably not too many years ago. Saw them each holding a small child—Brian and Casey. But one picture in particular captivated her.

  Two identical teenage boys with identical irreverent expressions beamed up at her. Dark hair, ebony eyes—their resemblance to Matt was unmistakable. “What a great shot!”

  The pain that settled on Matt’s face stole her breath away. Grief lingered in his eyes, refusing to move on.

  She wished she hadn’t said anything.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “THOSE ARE…were…my kid brothers. The twins— Jason and Jared.” He could barely get the words out. Unusual for him after all this time. Of course, he didn’t often discuss the twins anymore. The accident was old news in Pilgrim Cove. Old news that could still take him by surprise, the hurt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.

  Laura looked sympathetic and slightly confused. She already knew some of the history but none of the details of the sad story. He’d give her the short version—clean and quick. Better for him, too.

  “Eight years ago, on the night of their senior prom, my brothers were in a car accident. Jared was driving. Didn’t survive. Jason and Lila were in the car. They both escaped serious injury. Jason disappeared a month later. But Lila stayed in Pilgrim Cove and had Katie. Katie’s my niece, Jason’s daughter.”

  “Yes,” said Laura. “I sort of figured that out at The Lobster Pot. But surely he comes to see her…?”

  Matt looked at the lovely woman in front of him, loath to remove the hope that shone in her eyes. The hope for a happy ending. But she’d eventually hear the truth from someone else, so it would be better if it came from him. At least she’d get a firsthand account.

  “He doesn’t know about Katie. And we don’t know where he is.”

  Laura’s mouth rounded into a perfect O, an
d she was silent.

  “We had an APB out for him in all the northeastern states. I hired a private investigator. But the kid was smart. Left no trace. No social security number anywhere on any paycheck. He wanted to disappear and he did.” Matt paused for breath, his eyes still watching Laura. “He sends us a card at Christmas just to tell us he’s alive. No return address of course. A different postmark every year, and who knows if he’s actually even in that city.”

  He looked off into space. His throat felt tight. “I always tell Lila when I hear from him. The way I figure it, she has a right to know. Three years ago, Jason’s message to Lila was to forget about him.”

  He needed air. Badly. He took three deep breaths before going on. “So I told her to get on with her life.” He pictured Lila in his mind when he’d uttered those words and amazingly started to smile. “You know what she said?” he asked, then continued without giving Laura a chance to answer. “She said, ‘Stop sounding like my mother! One of you is more than enough.”’

  He turned to Laura then, smile fading, arms folded across his chest. “A lousy melodrama, wouldn’t you say? Right out of a bad script.” He knew his voice was as defensive as his posture.

  But when she looked up at him, he forgot about his own discomfort. Tears were rolling down her face, and she was shaking her head back and forth.

  “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “It’s not a bad script. And not a melodrama. Not when there’s so much pain. Sometimes bad things happen, and we struggle…and sometimes we find our way, and sometimes we need help, and sometimes we just can’t do it.”

  She stepped close to him now, raised her hands to his face and stroked his cheek. Stunned, he clasped her wrist and lowered her palm to his mouth. And kissed it. Once, twice, three times, wishing he never had to let go.

  “I’m so sorry about Jared,” she said, her lips trembling. “A parent’s worst nightmare. Teens and drivers’ licenses. And now I understand why Katie throws herself at you, and why Lila’s so comfortable with you. They’re your family, too.”

  He nodded, still holding her hand.