Summer by the Sea

by Cathryn Parry

  But more than that, there was an undercurrent that ran through all their interactions. Not just attraction or amusement, but solid, mutual respect. They each strove to understand the other. It was a different way of going about being interested in a woman. Something new for Sam.

  As he watched Charlie moan and wipe his mouth as he lay on the bottom of the rescue boat, Sam couldn’t help thinking that he was getting too old for this young-guy, partying lifestyle. He just wasn’t a Charlie anymore. At the moment, Sam would really rather be hanging out with Lucy and Sarah at home, anyway.

  Of course he wasn’t going to date Sarah—her work with Lucy was too important to risk.

  Sam wondered how their coding was going, and if Lucy had decided to redesign the home page of her app like she’d been telling him about before bed last night.

  The first spare moment he found, he was going to see them.

  * * *

  “HOLD STILL,” SARAH said to Lucy. She was applying mascara to the girl’s eyelashes. “Done!”

  Stepping back, she checked out her handiwork. “You look very professional.”

  “Let me see!” Lucy picked up the mirror and studied herself. “Ooh, I really do. I look older.” She glanced at Sarah. “Will this help them accept my ideas?”

  “Yes. Though it’s not obvious you’re wearing makeup, it conveys a subtle professional polish that works well with the camera and the lighting. Polish is what the committee executives are hoping to see. It adds to the strength of your good ideas.”

  “Okay.” Lucy put the mirror down and resumed studying her script. She seemed more interested in what she was going to say on the video than in how she was going to look saying it.

  That was a good sign, Sarah thought. Lucy wasn’t obsessed with the external stuff. Still, Sarah knew how much it could count—even subconsciously—with the judges.

  She checked the white bedsheet she’d pinned against the wall as a backdrop. Sarah’s phone camera was set up on a makeshift tripod so the frame would be steady. They’d decided to work at Cassandra’s cottage instead of Sam’s house today because the lighting was better for filming. Sarah had let Sam know they were both here so he wouldn’t worry.

  “Okay, I need to comb your hair, Lucy. I’m going to spritz some styling gel in it first, okay?”

  Lucy giggled. “Look at Simmonds!”

  The green-eyed Maine Coon cat had plopped himself before their camera backdrop. He had a white milk beard that stood out against his long black fur.

  “Simmonds, you are so funny!” Lucy knelt and hugged him to her.

  “Don’t get milk on your good sweater,” Sarah warned. She shook her head, reminded of what a child Lucy still was. It was risky to bet her comeback on another person, never mind an almost-twelve-year-old girl whose birthday was a few days after hers.

  Lucy suddenly blinked, serious. She stood up and carefully brushed the black cat hairs off her red sweater.

  “I really want to win this,” she said matter-of-factly. And at that moment, she seemed grown-up again. Sarah felt like she was watching a ping-pong ball veer back and forth. Indicative of the age Lucy was at, Sarah supposed.

  “If you want to win the Future Tech Scholars competition, we need to focus and get serious, because we don’t have a lot of time,” Sarah told her.

  “Do you think I’ll win?”

  “Of course.”

  Lucy was silent for a moment. “You didn’t tell my dad about the scholarship prize, did you?”

  Sarah’s hand stilled on her phone. “What do you mean?”

  “About how I’ll have to move to California and go to school there if I win the competition and earn the scholarship prize?”

  “No, I didn’t say anything to him,” Sarah said slowly. That hadn’t even been on her radar. “That part of the contest is relevant to the custodial parent, which is your mother.”

  “Yes, I know that,” Lucy said. But still, Sarah felt blown away. It hadn’t occurred to her until now that Sam would be devastated if Lucy moved across the country.

  Shaking her head, she said, “You got your mother’s permission and signatures, correct?”

  “Right here.” Lucy patted the folder on the counter. Colleen had emailed them to Lucy last night. Sarah already knew this because Lucy had shown her first thing this morning before they’d even gotten started, but now, in Sarah’s shock, she’d been compelled to check once more.

  “If there is anything your mother needs clarification about,” Sarah repeated to Lucy, “then I have a phone number she can call directly. You told her that, right?”

  “Yes, I told her,” Lucy said calmly. “Trust me.”

  Still, the unspoken words hovered between them. Lucy hadn’t told Sam.

  What was Sarah supposed to do about that? It wasn’t her place to talk to Sam about Lucy’s mother’s permissions. He’d said himself that he didn’t have those rights.

  “Your father will be disappointed if you don’t tell him,” was all she could think to say.

  “I’ll handle it.” Lucy added quickly, “Don’t worry. My mom said she’ll move to California with me if I win the scholarship.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. She’ll be happy to have a reason not to be near Sam.”

  Sarah’s heart sank. “You don’t think they get along?”

  “They don’t talk at all. My mom pretty much hates him.”

  Oh, great.

  But then a heavy step sounded outside on the deck. Sarah sucked in her breath then flicked a glance at the clock. Twelve-fifteen. Sam was here for lunch.

  Biting her lip, Sarah strode forward and opened the door. He grinned at her, hand in the air, midknock. “Why, hello, Sarah.”

  She really hadn’t wanted to hide anything that she was doing with his daughter. “Hi, Sam.”

  He winked at her and walked inside. He looked good to her, but he always looked good to her. And it was more than the external. There was a spark within him that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. Or a fish to the sea.

  His sun-darkened skin was puckered a bit from the cold wind, and he wore a lifeguard windbreaker to match his shorts. He was barefoot, as always, but she liked his feet. And his calves. And his...rear view...as he turned and dropped his whistle and radio into his baseball cap, which he deposited on a side table next to the door. He was busy wiping his wet, sandy feet on a rug that Cassandra had installed for just that purpose, so he hadn’t seen Lucy yet.

  Sarah glanced over, but the girl had disappeared along with Simmonds. The red sweater that Lucy had been wearing earlier was draped carefully over a chair back.

  Sarah swallowed, turning back to Sam. A part of her had been looking at him differently since their talk this morning. There was much more to him than she’d realized. She’d already decided to keep doing meditation with him, because she’d come so close to finding something at the end of their session. She’d felt that brief, not-in-her-own-head moment that had seemed like it should be right for what meditation was all about, given her limited understanding.

  She had no doubt that that breakthrough had something to do with Sam as a teacher. There was a manner Sam had with her, the pushback that didn’t include pushing her away—he’d come right out and said he wouldn’t desert her like Cassandra had—which made her that much more apt to stay open to him.

  Not to mention the fact that she needed his daughter’s help to get her own job back.

  “Sarah?” His wide smile lit up his face. His blue eyes studied her, drinking her in. “How has your morning been with Lucy?”

  “We’re working hard on her project,” she informed him, wanting to tell him everything, but not sure she should mention the part about California. “How is your work going this morning?”

  “Quiet, but that’s to be expected today because of the weather.”

&
nbsp; “Oh. It’s raining out.” She glanced toward the window. The sun had turned to gray skies and drizzly moisture, but she and Lucy had been so busy filming their preliminary shots that they hadn’t even noticed.

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “There was a mass exodus around an hour ago. Still, I helped one lost kid get reunited with his family.”

  “A lost kid? How does that happen when the beach is practically empty?”

  “Ah. Well.” Sam shrugged. “I guess when you have six kids and everything gets confusing in the mad rush for home, and the second-to-littlest one decides to hide in a sand dune because he doesn’t want to leave the beach fun even if it is raining...then that’s how.”

  “Unbelievable.” Sarah was appalled at the thought of a kid being left behind. “It sounds stressful dealing with that.”

  “No biggie. The kid—Joey—promised never to do it again.”

  “So, how did you find his family in time?” she asked.

  “Ah. I noticed him crying, and then I radioed it out to all stations. Then I walked with Joey. We have a system for that. Luckily, his harried parents realized he was missing before they’d driven out of the parking lot. We met them on the main walkway. They were frantic when we found them.”

  “It must feel good to save the day.” Honestly, that part of his job seemed appealing to her. “Any sea rescues?” She was personally dying to hear that somebody else besides her had gotten stuck in a rip current. It would make her feel less incompetent.

  “Just one—during morning workout. One of my charges was a bit, ah, under the weather, so Duke and I hauled him onboard the beach patrol boat.”

  “Is it bad if it makes me feel better to hear that?”

  He laughed. “Nope. It makes you human.”

  She sincerely hoped he remembered that.

  “Besides,” he added, “we were just doing our jobs, ma’am.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Lucy, anyway?” Then he took a folder from his backpack and withdrew two sheets of paper. “After I helped Joey find his family, I stopped by headquarters and picked up this information for Lucy’s app. I thought it might be helpful.”

  Sarah glanced at the pages—maps of the beach parking lots. “I’m impressed. Lucy can scan these in and add them to her app. That will be a good feature.” She glanced up at Sam. “But, just so you know, this is her project, and I’m here to guide her, not to do it for her.”

  “Spoken like a great teacher,” Sam said. He turned and looked at the screen she’d set up.

  “We’ve been recording,” Sarah explained.

  His forehead scrunched. “What for?”

  “The first phase of the project is a video pitch. If Lucy makes it past that hurdle, then she’s in the running for the next phase.”

  “There are phases?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Sam obviously didn’t even know the basics. She needed to make a choice about how to handle this...

  “There’s a prize, I assume,” he kept right on speaking. “A scholarship or a title, which would bode well for the college application process—”

  “Dad!” Lucy’s voice rang out from the doorway to the bedroom.

  Sam’s smile spread from ear to ear. That’s all he wants, Sarah thought, remembering his visualization at the sand dune. That’s all he wants out of life—just to be Lucy’s dad. And Sarah swallowed, understanding, because she would give anything to see her own dad again. The emotion rose in her throat, flooded into her tear ducts. But no, that wasn’t good for her to think about. Not ever, ever, ever. Crying was the least productive reaction possible. It changed nothing. It brought no one back. All it did was make a person weak. And show that weakness to the world.

  “Sarah, what’s going on?” Sam’s voice had an edge that snapped her out of her funk. “My eleven-year-old daughter is wearing makeup?”

  Sarah blinked, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Lucy had already removed the neutral lipstick that Sarah had applied, but the mascara and beige contouring eye shadow remained, as did the thin layer of foundation blended into her young skin.

  “The makeup is subtle and done only to help Lucy look her best on camera.” Sarah pressed the used tissue discreetly into her pocket. “The panel is looking for a certain level of polish in their young tech entrepreneurs.”

  “These are children,” Sam protested.

  “Yes. And they are also tech entrepreneurs.”

  “I thought tech entrepreneurs wore hooded sweatshirts and jeans. And flip-flops.”

  “Actually, that is changing,” Sarah said. “I know the selection committee, Sam. Lucy has an in. She’s got this, but we still need to do our best, anyway.”

  “So you’re saying you’re going to cheat for her? Pull strings?” He looked confused.

  “No!” she said, insulted. “I’m saying that I’m an expert consultant and that you need to trust me.” She never would have taken Lucy on in the first place if she didn’t think the girl could actually win!

  But the word trust seemed to hang in the air. Sarah swallowed, feeling herself blanching. She was fast realizing that maybe Sam’s concern was valid. Not that she was trying to cheat for Lucy, but that she hadn’t been open with Sam about what it could mean for him if Lucy’s beach project won. Yes, it was Lucy’s lie of omission, but shouldn’t Sarah have made sure Sam was completely in the loop before agreeing to be her mentor?

  She looked at Lucy, who was licking her lips and glancing from face to face. Lucy had kept back the truth from Sarah on this, as well. The difference was that Sarah was the adult.

  Swallowing, Sarah went and deliberately sat in one of the two chairs at Cassandra’s tiny kitchen table. The rest of Cassandra’s seating was ridiculous, and Sarah wasn’t going to deign to sit in an old beanbag chair or a hippie hammock that reminded her of her wayward aunt.

  Feeling angry all over again, Sarah poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher Lucy had set on the table and took a break.

  “May I see the video you’re working on?” Sam asked Lucy, standing in the midst of the room with his arms folded.

  “It’s not finished yet,” Lucy replied, flopping onto one of the beanbags. “We’ve recorded a few pieces and when we’re finished, we’ll edit it all together. Then we’ll give you a big reveal.”

  “Where is this editing equipment?” Sam asked Lucy.

  “It’s on Sarah’s laptop.”

  Sarah drank her lemon water without glancing at either of them. She wanted to keep calm and not get involved in the drama that Lucy had created. Let the two of them hash it out.

  “May I see the permission slip for this project?” Sam asked Lucy.

  “Hold on,” Lucy said, reaching over to grab her pile stuff from the couch. “I have the application right here on my iPad.”

  Sarah continued to calmly drink. Do not interfere...

  “Look,” Lucy said to her father. She held up the iPad screen. Sarah assumed she was showing him the last page of the application, the one with Lucy’s mother’s signature.

  Sam took the iPad and peered at the screen for a long time. Sarah held her breath, waiting to see if he would swipe the screen or page down to read the whole document, but he didn’t. He was reading the fine print on that one page. Or just staring at the signature.

  “Your mother signed it, I see,” he remarked.

  “Yes, she did sign it, last night,” Lucy said. “Do you want to talk to her about it? She’s off this morning. We can Skype her. She said she’s carrying her phone, and that I can video call her anytime I want.”

  Thank you, Lucy, Sarah thought.

  Sam shook his head. “No, Luce. I trust you.”

  To Sarah, his face seemed haunted. He didn’t have the power to question Colleen’s signature. At least, not yet.

  “Thanks for helping her with the project,” Sam said to Sarah. “It wasn’t my
intention to offend you.”

  “I’m not offended. I know you want to be a good dad.” Sarah gazed at the slice of lemon gently floating in her water glass. “Lucy,” she couldn’t help saying, “you’re a lucky girl to have a dad who loves you. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Lucy gazed solemnly back at her. She picked up Simmonds and pressed him to her chest. “I’ll make you both lunch,” Lucy said finally.

  “That’s nice of you,” Sarah replied. “I have ingredients in the fridge. Do you make salads, Lucy?”

  “Of course. My mom lives on salads. I do, too.”

  Sam looked confused. “But Luce, you only eat peanut butter for lunch.”

  “No, that’s not true.” Lucy calmly opened Cassandra’s refrigerator and took out the shopping bag Sarah had stashed in there. “I only eat peanut butter at your house, Dad. It’s our tradition.”

  Sam seemed to be chewing that over. He pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table and sat. “It’s like I’m seeing my daughter in a whole new light,” he said to Sarah under his breath.

  They watched Lucy unpack the shopping bag contents on the table. Lettuce. Tomatoes. Cucumbers. Feta cheese. Bottled ranch dressing.

  Lucy turned to them. “You two will need to scoot together because I need the table space to chop vegetables. This kitchen is tiny. When I grow up, I’m going to have a great big one.” Lucy opened a drawer and rummaged for a cutting board and a knife. “And I’m also getting one of those refrigerators where you can touch the glass front and light up everything inside. You don’t even need to open the door to see what you have.”

  “I have one of those,” Sarah remarked.

  “See? This is why I need to be a tech mogul,” Lucy explained to her father.

  A smile played on Sam’s lips. “My daughter is a capitalist.”

  Honestly, Sarah could see he was just happy being there with them. It did something to her, too. It put a happy, safe feeling into her heart. One she couldn’t remember experiencing since she was Lucy’s age and her parents were still alive.