by Thea Dawson
“I think it’s up to me to decide how I raise my daughter. As for your job, yes, you’re a talented designer, but let’s face it, you got lucky having me introduce you to Susan. It’s a job where you have to have connections, and I don’t want Peyton to have to rely on other people like that.”
“I seem to recall that you got your fancy consulting gig because you just happened to know the right people yourself,” she snapped.
“I didn’t have to sleep with any of them to get it!” he growled in return.
There was a moment of shocked silence and it seemed to dawn on him what he’d said. “Celia, I’m sorry. That was—” he began in a calmer voice.
“Stop.” Celia held a hand up. “Is that why you put me in touch with Susan? Paying me back for having sex with you? I don’t need your hand-outs, I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, and I certainly don’t need you to pay me for having sex with you! And I don’t need three jobs—I gave you my notice three months ago, and I’m sticking to it this time. I quit. You’re on your own.”
She stepped outside the back door. “Lily, Rosie, get in the car! We’re leaving.”
“Why do we have to—?”
“Now!” She swept past Richard. Stepping over Peyton’s lifejacket, she swept up the towels that had been drying over the rail and threw them over her shoulder, then marched back into the house to pick up Rowan.
“Celia, please, I didn’t mean—” Richard started, but she pushed past him again, made a clumsy diver for her purse, and stormed out the front door. Lily and Rosie were standing in the driveway looking stunned.
“In. The. Car!”
“Celia, for God’s sake, come back and let’s talk about this!” Richard sounded angry now.
Celia put the protesting Rowan into his car seat and buckled him up. “Lily, help Rosie with her seat belt,” she hissed. To her relief, Lily, ashen-faced, complied, then buckled herself into her own seat.
Celia flung herself into the driver’s seat, turned on the ignition and threw the minivan into reverse.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
She glanced sideways at Lily, who looked stricken. Guilt at yanking the kids away so abruptly stabbed at her.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Richard and I got in an argument, and we need to go home now.” She tried to keep her voice calm but wasn’t at all sure she was succeeding.
Lily was silent for a few minutes as the van rumbled back down the long dirt road, the leafy trees casting dappled shadows across the car. Then, “You always do this!” she suddenly shouted. “You got in a fight with Dad and he left. And now you’ve got in a fight with Richard, and we had to leave. You’re always getting in fights. It’s not fair!” There were tears in her voice.
Celia glanced at the speedometer and noticed with shock how fast she’d been driving. She immediately slowed down the car.
“I’m sorry, honey,” she said again. “It’s not the same as with your dad. I can’t really explain it right now.” She glanced sideways again. Tears rolled down Lily’s furious face. Rosie looked frightened, and Rowan whimpered fretfully. She was starting to regret her furious departure. She’d make it up to them somehow.
“And now I’m never going to see Peyton again,” Lily whimpered.
Celia shook her head. “No, it’s not like with your dad—”
She stopped. She had a sudden recollection of sweeping the towels off the patio, of stepping over Peyton’s life jacket to get them ... Peyton nowhere in sight …
“Where was Peyton when we left?” she said.
“She got mad at Richard and went down to the beach, and then you started screaming at us,” Lily answered.
Celia slammed on the brakes so hard the car careened slightly and Lily let out a short scream.
“Sorry,” Celia muttered, executing a clumsy three-point turn on the narrow road and hitting the gas. “We’ve got to go back.”
“God damn it!”
Richard slammed the door behind him. His initial anger at Celia had morphed into fury at himself. He wanted to punch walls and kick over tables, but he restrained himself with difficulty. Things were already bad enough without frightening Peyton or having to explain to his parents that he’d lost his temper and wrecked the cabin.
Celia had been right, of course. He’d been a jerk to Peyton, who was, after all, only nine. Even as he’d told her that she couldn’t make a living as an artist he’d heard an echo of his own father’s words to him when he’d expressed interest in art school. Somehow the words had slipped out anyway, almost with a will of their own. And when Celia had called him out, he’d lashed out, angry at her, angry at his father, and most of all, angry at himself.
He needed to talk to Peyton, but he needed to calm down first. He pulled a beer out of the fridge and sank onto the futon couch with a sigh. He downed half the bottle in one gulp then put the bottle on the side table in disgust. Getting drunk was hardly going to help matters.
Would Celia forgive him? She’d forgiven him, more or less, for his initial screw up after their first night together. Would she forgive him again for insulting her after she’d quite correctly called him on being a bad parent?
Shit. He put his head in his hands, his mind swirling with regret. She was the best thing that had happened to Peyton ... and him, he admitted ... in ages. And for the second time, he’d driven her away
He’d get her back, he swore to himself. No more taking her for granted or dismissing her thoughts about Peyton. No more hiding from the kids. They’d confront the complications and deal with them.
He was startled by the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house and his heart leapt with hope. Pride forgotten, he ran to the front door and pulled it open. Celia leapt out of the driver’s seat, not bothering to shut the door or get her kids out.
“Where’s Peyton?” she shouted, leaving the car door open and already running past the house toward the lake.
Peyton.
He swore and tore back through the house, yanking open the back door so hard it rattled in its frame. The first thing he saw was Peyton’s life jacket abandoned on the patio. The next, as he glanced around wildly, was a tiny figure struggling in the lake halfway to the point. And the third was Celia, diving off the dock and into the water.
25
By the time Richard had gathered both oars and untied the rowboat, Celia was halfway to Peyton. He might have gotten there faster by swimming himself, but then they’d have three exhausted people in the water and no place to rest. He pulled the oars as hard as he could, casting anxious glances behind him. Celia was gaining on Peyton, and he was gaining on her, but she would reach the struggling child well before him. He had a dim recollection that she’d said once that she’d been a life guard in her teens. He prayed that she still knew what she was doing and pulled on the oars as hard as he could.
As a life guard, Celia had trained for all sorts of emergencies. She’d learned to swim with her clothes on, to pace herself so that she wouldn’t reach a drowning person already exhausted, but that had been years ago, and it had only ever been for practice. Now she swam as if pursued by demons, determined to reach Peyton before it was too late.
When she’d dived in, Peyton had still been swimming, albeit with the slow, clumsy movements of an exhausted child, but by the time Celia caught up with her, she was struggling, a glassy expression in her wide eyes, her head bobbing up and down, unable to cry out because of the water that kept covering her mouth. To an untrained observer, she might have looked like she was treading water, but Celia immediately recognized the signs of drowning. It was probably less than a minute before she’d go under forever.
With a last burst of speed, she covered the remaining yards between them and grabbed her. Panicked, Peyton clutched at her then began pushing down on Celia’s shoulders in an instinctive effort to rise above the surface of the water.
“Peyton, stop!”
Celia cursed herself for not having thought to bring a floatation device with he
r. The life ring on the dock would have slowed her down but it would have stabilized both her and Peyton until Richard could get to them. And instinctively, she knew that Richard was coming. Her second mistake had been in approaching Peyton from the front, allowing her to grab Celia in a chokehold. Thank God Peyton was small. With the last of her strength, Celia pushed the terrified girl away from her and spun her around, grabbing her from behind and under the arms. Peyton thrashed in terror, but Celia held her firmly.
“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” she said, keeping her voice as calm and steady as she could. “Peyton, I’ve got you, and I’m not going to let you go. But you need to hold as still as you can. Your dad’s on his way. You can breathe now. You’re safe.”
She looked up and was relieved to see that Richard was drawing close in the rowboat, the muscles of his broad back straining with each pull of the oars. It was only a few seconds before he reached them, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, he pulled up alongside them. His face gray, he pulled the oars and threw her the life ring. She clutched it gratefully and allowed it to take some of the pressure off staying afloat.
Somehow, with a combination of pulling and pushing, they got Peyton into the boat, where Richard caught her up in an enormous hug.
“Are you all right, baby?”
Peyton whimpered and retched in his arms.
“She needs to get to an emergency room.” Celia had the life ring over one shoulder and clutched the edge of the boat with both hands. “I’m not sure how much water she got in her, but she could still be in danger from secondary drowning.”
“We need to get you into the boat.” Richard reached for her with one hand but she shook her head. Getting Peyton into the boat had been difficult enough.
“I’m afraid I’ll just turn the boat over. Don’t worry about me. Just get her back to shore and to the emergency room, okay? The closest one is probably in Salem. If she’s having any trouble breathing before you get there, pull over and call 911.”
“You’re exhausted.”
She could see the reluctance in his eyes and waved him off. “I’m fine. I’ll be back on shore in a few minutes. Please go. She needs to see a doctor.”
He was torn, she could see that, but he also knew she was right. Now that she no longer had to support Peyton and could take her time getting back to shore, she’d be fine.
“Put this on,” he ordered, handing her a life jacket. In his hurry to get to them, she noted, he hadn’t put one on himself, but at least he’d had the presence of mind to put one in the boat. She struggled gracelessly into it and handed back the life ring.
“All right, I’m good,” she assured him. “Now go.”
She saw him glance anxiously at Peyton, who sat at his feet, shivering and coughing, before turning back to her. “Wait.” Leaning over the side of the boat, he grabbed her by the life jacket and pulled her up long enough to kiss her. The feel of his lips on hers once again renewed her energy and she was surprised by a sudden burst of elation.
He pulled back and reluctantly lowered her back into the water. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but she could tell he was too overcome.
“I’m fine. Just go,” she said quietly. He nodded and picked up the oars, pulling away from her with powerful strokes.
Tired but relieved, and sustained by the feel of his lips on hers, she swam slowly after them.
Richard waited until she made it back to land before leaving for the hospital. She saw him standing on the patio, Peyton, now wrapped in a brightly striped towel, in his arms. As soon as she was able to feel the ground beneath her feet, she stood up and waved to him to show she was safe. He flashed her a grateful smile, turned and left.
“Mom, what’s going on? Richard said Peyton needed to go to the hospital!” Lily, Rosie and Rowan were still in the car. Rowan had gone back to sleep. Lily looked terrified.
“She’s going to be fine,” Celia assured her. “She swam too far out and got tired, and needed help getting out of the water. But we got to her, and she’d going to be fine.” She sank into the front seat, leaving the door wide open. She needed some time to collect herself before she started driving again.
Lily was quiet for a long time. “Should we go visit her in the hospital?”
Celia shook her head. “She’s going to the emergency room. It’s not a good place for visitors. I’ll text Richard later and make sure she’s all right.” She looked at Lily and leaned over to squeeze her hand. “We’ll see her again soon. I promise.”
Lily looked at her, squeezed her hand back, and nodded. “We should close the door before we go.” She nodded at the house. In his haste to leave, Richard had left the front door open.
“Good thinking. I’ll be right back.” Celia pulled herself out of the car and did a quick once-over of the house. She shut and locked the front door, shut the back one on her way out to the patio, picked up a couple of towels and laid them over the railing. Then, thinking about how little Richard and Peyton had with them, she made a quick survey of the house, stuffing some belongings into a gym bag before making her way back to the car.
The ride home was subdued. Lily stared anxiously out the window and said little. Rosie and Rowan, tired from their active morning and lulled by the drive, slept most of the way.
Shortly after she got home, Richard texted.
Overnight for observation, but she should be fine.
Relief washed over her.
So glad to hear it, she texted back and hesitated, not sure how to express her feelings. Lily is very worried, she added. If Peyton’s up to it, maybe we could see you tomorrow.
Yes. I’ll call you.
Get some rest, she texted back, unsure what else to say.
You too.
And then, a moment later, Thank you with all my heart.
Richard put his phone back in his pocket, grateful for texting. Much as he longed to see Celia, to hold her, to tell her over and over again how sorry he was and how grateful, he did not feel up to a phone conversation.
He’d used up most of his remaining energy on a call with Peyton’s mother. Melanie had sounded concerned at first when he’d told her about the accident, but when he’d told her that the doctors had said she’d be able to go home the next day, Melanie had said it didn’t sound all that serious and that she was glad he had it under control.
He shook his head. It would have taken her barely an hour to drive to Salem, and her daughter was spending the night in hospital. Although it didn’t surprise him that Melanie hadn’t dropped everything to come to Peyton’s side, he was still disappointed and angry.
He sat by Peyton’s bed. She was sleeping now, paler than usual, but the color was coming back into her cheeks. Her breathing was stable. The X-rays of her lungs had showed no sign of residual water. Celia had gotten to her in time.
He stroked Peyton’s hair gently, shuddering at the close call. Another minute or two and it would have been too late. He had been so caught up in himself, in trying to make Peyton a perfect little replica, that he’d driven her away and almost lost her forever. Still holding Peyton’s hand in his, he put his head down on her bed. Gradually, exhausted from the day’s events, he fell asleep.
He woke to the sound of a gentle knocking at the door. He blinked as he raised his head. The light had changed. It was early dusk, and the shadows had lengthened across the sterile grey room. The door opened slowly, and Celia peeked in.
Relief, gratitude and something else that it took him a moment to define rushed through him. He stood up and went swiftly over to her.
“How is she?” Celia looked at the small figure in the bed, her brow knitted in concern.
“She’s fine. They’re keeping her for observation, but the X-rays looked good. Celia, I can’t even—”
Celia held up a sports bag. “I grabbed a few clothes from the cabin for you before we left. Sorry I didn’t come sooner. I thought it would be a bit overwhelming with my kids so I drove them home to stay with Tracie.”
“And you drove all the way back here? That was incredibly thoughtful of you. Thank you. And thank you for ... If you hadn’t ...” Emotion overwhelmed him, and he choked on the words.
Celia dropped the bag and pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Everything’s fine now.”
He breathed in her scent, felt her silky hair brush her cheek and held her tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “For everything.” Overcome with emotion, he kissed her, and to his everlasting relief she kissed back. She felt so right in his arms.
“It’s okay,” she murmured back. “I overreacted, too. But everything’s okay now.”
“How did you even know?” he asked. “I was right there, and I didn’t even see her get in the water.” He shuddered again at the close call.
He felt Celia shrug. “I don’t know. Something Lily said, I guess. Instinct, maybe.”
“Well, thank God for Lily, and thank God for your instincts, then.”
“Have you had anything to eat? I could run down to the cafeteria and bring something up for you—” she started, but he held up his hand to stop her.
He took a shaky breath while he gathered his courage. “I love you, Celia. I don’t want to keep this from the kids anymore. This is serious for me, and I hope it’s serious for you. We’ll deal with the complications, but I don’t want to risk losing you because you think I’m not in this one hundred percent, because I am.”
She pulled back and tilted her face up to his, her deep blue eyes twinkling with surprise and—he dared hope—delight.
She smiled. “I love you, too,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I still don’t mind getting you some dinner.”
“Stop being so thoughtful for a moment and let me kiss you,” he ordered. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly before wrapping her in his arms, inhaling the scents of sunscreen, lake water, and her.