by Sally John
Softly . . . or furtively?
But it was his business to talk on the phone. They owned the Happy Grounds Coffee and Gift Shop, a small, popular place on the Oregon coast. Ordering coffee and gifts had been a part of their life for twelve years. She hated the telephone. She loved baking. It was an easy division of two major responsibilities. They shared all the others.
“Will!”
He glanced over his shoulder and held up a finger. “That’s fine,” he spoke into the phone, his tone normal. “I’ll get back to you. Good-bye.” He hung up. “What’s wrong?”
Her heart melted. The question that negated her other one about his phone calls was, how often had she clung to him in recent months like a scared child? He was her rock.
In a flash his arms were around her. “Lacey?”
“There was an earthquake in Los Angeles.” Engulfed in his arms, her face against his denim shirt, she savored the clean scents of laundry detergent and his soap. The weight of his chin atop her head reassured her that he was there. He was there.
Sometimes visitors to the shop were surprised to learn that Lacey and Will were married. At first she thought it was because they were physically mismatched. He was model material for men’s underwear ads. Tall, slender with wide shoulders, dark blond, and hazel-eyed, he was—as her mother said—a looker. She, on the other hand, was average in every way, except that she was all nose and mouth and had a coarse, dark-brown horse mane for hair that worked best in a braid when it was long enough.
Her good friend Holly clued her in on what others were saying. “Lacey, you’re nuts. People assume you’re not married because you and Will are such obviously good friends. Most couples aren’t, you know. No way could most of us work together 24-7 like you do. I can’t imagine teaching in the same school as my ex.”
Lacey did not totally buy into the explanation. If couples weren’t friends, why did they bother staying together?
Will kissed the top of her head. “Call her. I’ll cover for you.”
She nodded and watched him walk into the shop.
It was August, a busy time of year. Two summer employees worked in the gift section, an area that covered the front half of the shop. A waist-high wall separated it from the coffee bar at the back, where there was seating for twenty-two. At three in the afternoon, Will and the college girls could take care of the light traffic.
Teal had not seen the shop since long before Will and Lacey took it over from his parents. Lacey was proud of their homey renovations. She wondered if Teal would think the place more inviting than it had been when they were growing up.
Probably not. It wasn’t Teal’s style to compliment anything about Cedar Pointe.
Lacey sat down at the desk, picked up the phone, and dialed her sister’s cell phone number. Although she seldom called it, she had committed it to memory.
Before it rang, the connection went straight to voice mail.
“Teal, are you all okay? Call me as soon as you can.”
She dialed the house number, also at the tip of her fingers. Again voice mail answered and she left a message. She called Teal’s office number. There was no answer.
Lacey whimpered, squeezed her eyes shut, and shook her hands like dust rags. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”
Life had become simply too hard in recent months. There was no available nerve ending on which to hang this new stress.
Exactly. She had no place to put this, but others did. And they knew the secret of binding up the stress so that it did not weigh too heavily on their own nerves.
She pulled out the keyboard shelf and moved the mouse. The monitor woke up, and she saw that the computer was connected to the Internet.
She also saw news headlines.
Massive Quake Hits Los Angeles.
She aimed the cursor over the link and hesitated.
Lacey did not need details. She needed help.
She went to her e-mail, composed a short note, and sent it to the addresses of everyone who had ever said to her, “I’m praying for you.”
Chapter 10
LOS ANGELES
When Teal returned to River’s hallway, she saw someone with a bloodied head bandage lying on the bed.
Her breath caught, but as she neared the figure, she realized it was not River. Where was he?
With effort she waited calmly at the nurses’ station until one of them got off the phone. Her effort to remain calm went out the window.
As did the distraught nurse’s composure. She informed Teal that River had gone for a CT scan, and no, she was not allowed to follow, and no, she had no guess how long it would take. She also said Teal had no business standing there. The waiting room was the place to wait.
Her heart raced as she made her way back to the pay phone area and stood at the end of the line that now wrapped around chairs and out the door.
Like an unbelievable line for a stupid Disneyland ride.
But maybe it was for the best. Telling River what she had learned from Shauna about Maiya would not exactly comfort him. Reaming him out about that boy Jake would most definitely not comfort him. All of those things could wait until he felt better and she cooled down.
On a normal day she would have chatted with others in line. Today she bit her fingernails and checked her cell phone. Over and over and over.
At last it was her turn to use a pay phone again.
“Hello?”
At the sound of her daughter’s fearful voice answering her cell phone, Teal clutched the partition to keep herself upright. “Maiya! Are you all right?”
“Oh, Mommy! Mommy!”
“Shh, hon. We’re okay. Where are you?”
“I’m so scared!” Her voice was not lowering from screech level. “I couldn’t reach you!”
“I know, but we’re talking now. Where are you?”
“I’m coming home, but the traffic is so insane!”
“Mai, exactly where are you?”
“Um. Um. I don’t know. El Camino and something. At a gas station by that strip mall with Ralphs and Rite Aid.” Maiya named an area in the community east of them, typically a thirty-minute drive.
Teal gave up waiting for her daughter to confess. She also gave up aiming for a neutral tone. “Are you on the back of Jake’s bike?”
“Oh, Mommy.” Things were really bad. Maiya hadn’t called her Mommy since she broke her trumpet in the eighth grade. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, Maiya Marie.” Stupid. “Honey, I didn’t mean that. This is just so awful.” She burst into tears.
Then Maiya wailed.
Behind Teal came the loud clearing of a throat. “Hey, lady.”
She whipped around and blubbered out, “Hold your horses, mister. I’ve only been on for two minutes.”
So much for disaster bringing out humanity’s best.
“Mom! Where are you?”
“At the hospital.” Teal glared and turned back around. “River has some broken ribs.”
“Oh no!”
“They’re doing scans now to make sure nothing else is damaged inside.”
“What happened?”
“The Leaning Tower of Bins fell on him.” She took a shaky breath. “Are you wearing a helmet?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then just get your rear end home ASAP. Shauna and the Yoshidas are waiting there for you.”
“Jake will stay with me—”
“I don’t want to see Jake Ford or hear about Jake Ford for a long, long, very long time. He is not welcome in our home. Is that understood?”
“Mom, he’s a good guy.”
“Maiya Marie, I asked you a question.”
“Yeah. I understand, Counselor.”
From Mommy to Counselor in less than sixty seconds.
What was going on with her daughter?
Teal sensed that the quake had just exposed a fault line she did not know existed.
Teal found River back in the hallway
on a chair, trying to button the filthy short-sleeved white shirt he must have worn to the hospital. His brows went up in a question.
“She’s fine.”
“Thank God. Is she home?”
“On her way.” She knelt beside him, pushed aside his fumbling fingers, and buttoned his shirt for him. “What did they say?”
“I’m good to go.”
She tilted her head.
He smiled. “Three cracked. No internal damage. If I do something that increases the pain, I should stop doing it. Doc gave me a prescription for pain relievers. The regular stuff helped, though.”
“Meaning we’ll bypass the pharmacy and go straight home.”
“Mm-hmm.”
There was no argument to change his mind, so she didn’t even try.
She held his gaze for a long moment. His eyes shimmered in a reflection of her own tears.
They were all safe. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Thank You, God.
The drive home through empty, dark streets felt eerie. Houses and storefronts appeared intact, but people normally would have still been out and about; shops would have been open.
Teal deflected River’s questions about Maiya and told him about her own crazy day. “So now I have BFFs from Dubuque, Iowa, and we have an open invitation to visit them anytime we have a hankering to visit Field of Dreams or spit in the Mississippi.”
“Seriously?”
She caught his little-boy grin. “Uh-oh. I didn’t mean to say that part out loud.”
“Oh, man.” His raspy voice was excited. “Baseball and a phenomenal river I’ve never seen.”
“We’ll put it on the bucket list.” She slowed and flicked the turn signal as their alley came into sight.
“The garage is full, love.”
She glanced at him. “You mean you didn’t bother to pick up the plastic tubs?”
His chuckle slid into a groan. “Ouch. Don’t make me laugh.”
No worries about that once I get hold of Maiya.
The garage opened directly onto the alley. If there was no space inside it, they would have to park on the street out front. Teal drove past the alley entrance and continued on the palm-tree-lined block to their street.
The problem with street parking was that every neighbor had the same kind of old-fashioned, single-car garage and owned at least two vehicles. Car after car after car was parked bumper to bumper along both curbs. She spotted a motorcycle and gripped the steering wheel. If that thing belonged to Jake . . .
“Forget it,” she said. “This day just got too long. One way or another, I will make the car fit inside the garage.”
“That’s my Xena.”
“I will not be undone by an earthquake. How lame is that?”
“Attagirl.”
A few moments later she reached the garage and tapped the automatic opener. The door rattled up. “Hallelujah, the power is on. Whoa.” The headlights illumined empty space. “Do you see what I see?”
“Are we at the wrong garage? Ours never looked this neat.”
A few blue plastic bins sat in two short stacks. Elsewhere along a different wall were orderly piles of books and file folders.
They exchanged a glance and said in unison, “Charlie.”
Teal blinked her vision clear and drove onto a spic-and-span concrete floor. Her heart felt swept clean as well, free at last of the day’s anxiety and anger. They were all okay.
Maybe she would ground Maiya for only half of her life.
Chapter 11
River smelled the soup the moment Teal opened the door. Cindy Yoshida’s broccoli-chicken-black-bean concoction was a special-event dish.
The woman got that right. Coming home had never felt as special as it did right then.
He followed his wife through the garage door into the house she had welcomed him to share with her when they married. Leaving his bachelor apartment for the warmth of her place had been a no-brainer.
When they first dated, she was in the middle of renovations to the bungalow. Originally the garage had been detached. Teal had it attached by adding a mudroom and family room between it and the kitchen.
He shuffled along behind her, past the washer and dryer and into the family room, a catchall nook for newspapers, books, backpacks, mail, and sweatshirts. It was furnished with a love seat, a couch, and a coffee table. The television was on but muted. River turned from its video of a collapsed overpass lit by garish lights.
A breakfast bar separated the room from the kitchen now filled with the Yoshidas and two of the Prices, a happy, noisy group. Maiya emerged and was immediately lost in Teal’s embrace.
His family was safe. His family was safe. Thank You, God. Thank You.
He fought back more tears. He did not cry easily. He had a high tolerance for physical pain. Evidently the events of the day had undone him. He sat gingerly on the couch and wiped his shirtsleeve across his face.
His family was safe.
How he loved his girls. He watched them hug, long and hard, rocking back and forth, and was content to wait his turn.
Years ago, Maiya had taken him by surprise. They met when she was a gangly sixth grader with buckteeth who—like her mother—had an impish nose and tilted her head in a cute way, her black hair swinging to one side. She smiled as if she were looking right into his heart, trying to find a spot for herself.
He had one for her. She became the delight of his life. He wished he had known her as a toddler. Now as tall as Teal’s five-six, she had outgrown the gawky stage and was finished with the teeth-straightening braces. With adolescence came a budding prettiness and the ability to trip her mother’s trigger. River wondered if it was a female thing since he never found himself in her sights.
If he didn’t hug her soon, he might start bawling.
From the kitchen, the neighbors smiled at him. Maiya’s best friend, Amber, looked terrified. Her mother, Shauna, caught his eye and mouthed, You okay?
He nodded.
And then Maiya plopped beside him on the sofa and flung her arms around his neck.
“Oof.”
“Riv! Oops, sorry. Oh, Riv! Where does it hurt? Are you all right?”
He winced but held her as tightly as he could. Her long hair was damp and smelled of her shampoo. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “So what did you guess, Minnie McMouse?” It was his special nickname for her, a play on the initials for Maiya Marie Morgan and a reference to their first family outing to Disneyland. “Six point eight when it happened?”
She sat back and stared at him, tears spilling from pretty eyes an unusual shade of dark green. “Mom didn’t tell you?”
He sighed to himself. His hunch had been right, then. Teal had been sidestepping talk about Maiya.
His wife was an expert at the ins and outs of truth telling. She would not lie to people, but she chose exactly how much information to reveal and when. It bugged him at times, especially when he was the recipient. She argued it was for his own good, and often in hindsight he could see that it was.
If Teal had withheld something about Maiya, it was because she believed he did not need to hear it right now. She probably thought he was ready to keel over and should go to bed. Tomorrow was soon enough to hear difficult news.
Obviously Maiya could not wait to spill her guts.
A kid needing to talk always trumped personal discomfort, no matter what Teal thought.
He said, “Your mom didn’t tell me what?”
“I’m sorry.” She hiccupped another sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“About . . . ?”
“Oh, Riv. I didn’t feel it.”
Her words filtered through grogginess and pain. She didn’t feel what? The earthquake? No way. Unless . . . unless she had not been where they thought she was. Where she said she would be, at Amber’s, a few streets over. Not far from the garage where flying bins had laid him out flat.
It made no sense.
Shauna touched his shoulder. She was an attractive wo
man with extremely short hair and a smile as big as the outdoors. “I’m glad you’re all right.” The smile faded. “Amber!” She turned and spoke tersely. “It’s time to go.”
Amber and Maiya reacted as one and rushed to hug each other. Teal and Shauna watched, their signature glares in place. The divorce attorney and middle school counselor could be scary moms. Their daughters did not stand a chance.
River got the distinct impression that the girls might not see each other again for a very long time. What was going on?
He stood and made it as far as the breakfast bar to say good-byes. Shauna and Amber left quickly; the Yoshidas trailed behind, Cindy still talking.
“I spoke with both of your sisters and several coworkers. Everyone knows you’re fine. And they’re all fine. So don’t worry about returning calls tonight. You need to eat. Have some soup and Shauna’s chocolate chip cookies. You’ll feel better. I’m coming, Charlie. Okay, good night. We’re right next door if you need us.” She hurried out the front door and closed it behind her.
River smiled. Cindy always said that when she left, as if they might have forgotten where their neighbors lived. Having grandparent types next door was a hoot and a comfort.
A tremor rolled through the house and the lights flickered.
River met two pairs of frightened eyes. Speechless, no one moved. He stayed leaning against the breakfast bar, Teal stood by the kitchen sink, Maiya at the fridge. It was basically over before it started.
He said, “Two point one.”
Maiya’s face crumpled and she made a soft mewling sound. She wasn’t joining in the game of Guess the Magnitude.
“Whew.” Teal unplugged the slow cooker. “Guess the aftershocks aren’t over. Well, let’s just act normal. Soup, anyone?”
River said, “No thanks.”
She looked at him. “You need to go to bed.”
He wanted to do nothing else, but exhaustion lined his wife’s face and their daughter was having a slow meltdown. He still had not heard where Maiya had been when the quake struck.
Like the aftershocks, the evening was not over.
He walked stiffly across the kitchen. “The most comfortable place I’ve been all day was the garage floor. Think I’ll opt for carpet this time.” He touched Teal’s shoulder as he passed her. “Let’s talk in the living room.”