Message in the Sand

by Hannah McKinnon

  “I know you’re mad, but I insist.” When she glared at him again, he added, “Or I call your aunt. Your choice.”

  “Fine.” Julia gave in.

  “Come on, we’ll put the bikes in the back of my truck.”

  Outside, the sky was pitch dark, the half-moon the only sliver of light as they moved away from the house floodlights. He could hear the spin of the bike tires as the girls pushed their bikes up the hill behind him to the barn that served as a two-car garage. What a night. What a crazy proposal.

  He had just slid the garage door ajar when there was a distinct kick from across the yard. “What was that?” Julia asked. Both girls spun around.

  Wendell’s heart began to race. He’d completely forgotten about Radcliffe. “Nothing, just an animal. Better get in the truck.”

  Radcliffe nickered.

  Shit. He must’ve heard Julia or sensed her somehow. Wendell reached for Pippa’s bike and began talking loudly. “Here, let me help you put this in the truck, kiddo.”

  But Julia knew what she’d heard. Of course she did. She turned to face him. “You have a horse?”

  Wendell’s thoughts raced. If he said yes, she might want to see it. He couldn’t have that. “No, it’s probably coming from the neighbors. They have cows.”

  But it was too late. Julia set her bike down in the middle of the driveway. “That was a horse. And it came from right over there. In that shed.”

  Wendell lifted Pippa’s bike into the bed of his truck. “Julia, it’s late. Let’s go.”

  But Julia was already halfway to the barn with Pippa trailing behind. Wendell felt all of his reserves drain as their shadowy figures drifted away.

  Julia had reached the barn. “Can I go in?” she shouted back to him.

  It was over. No matter what he said. He began walking in their direction.

  Radcliffe was on high alert now, and Wendell could hear the horse rattling the stall door from within. He groaned in frustration and cut in front of Julia. “Here.” He swung the door open. The scent of horse and hay met them in the doorway.

  Julia froze, peering inside. “Oh my God. Is that…?”

  Wendell nodded grudgingly. “Go on,” he said.

  Twenty-Two Roberta

  At first she thought she was seeing things. As she drove by the Combs house Saturday morning on the way home from a trip to the garden center, she noticed a teenager standing outside. She slowed the car.

  Yes, she was right. At the top of the driveway was a girl with a long blond ponytail. She was pushing a wheelbarrow toward the little red barn behind the house. Roberta paused at the end of the driveway. It was absolutely none of her business, but she had been worried about Wendell. And she hadn’t heard a peep since that phone call they’d had. Plus there was the matter of the casserole dish she’d brought for dinner a few weeks earlier. Usually, Wendell returned things straightaway, but this time her baking dish was still sitting somewhere in his kitchen.

  She parked the car at the top of the driveway. The girl was already gone from sight, but the garden cart was parked outside the barn door. Roberta slid her sunglasses up on her head and strolled over. “Hello?” she called out.

  There appeared to be some activity in the barn, but no one answered. As Roberta drew closer, she called out again, “Wendell, are you home?”

  A girl popped her head out the door. “Hello!”

  Roberta halted. It was Julia Lancaster.

  “Hi, Roberta. Want to meet Radcliffe?”

  “Who?” This was not what she was expecting. Roberta swatted at a fly and followed Julia into the barn and across the dirt floor. It was a small barn, once used by Wendell’s mother as a potting shed. The wall-to-wall sliding door at the far side was wide open, letting in full sun and a scene that took Roberta’s breath away. There was Wendell standing in a small grassy enclosure beside a pile of wooden fence posts and rails, holding a post-hole digger. Beside him was a woman. And behind them stood a big red horse. “My Lord!”

  Wendell smiled sheepishly when he saw her. Like he was twelve years old again. “Bertie.”

  “Wendell.” Roberta looked between the four of them. She needed a minute.

  “Hello!” The woman approached with her hand extended, and Roberta did a double take.

  “Ginny Feldman!” Well, this was even more of a surprise than the horse. “How nice to see you.”

  But there was no time for handshakes or greetings. Julia motioned to a wheelbarrow in the corner. “I brought another load of dirt,” she said.

  “Bring it over here!” Wendell called back to her.

  Roberta barely had time to step out of the way. “Coming through,” Julia said, wheeling it narrowly around Roberta.

  Roberta stood there staring while they went on about their business as if she weren’t even there. What on earth was going on? Apparently, no one here was going to tell her; she may as well have asked the horse, who looked at her now, swished his tail, and snorted. Well. Roberta cleared her throat just like she used to before delivering a courtroom verdict. “Wendell? A word?”

  They stood outside the barn door at the edge of the patio, discussing the matter in hushed tones. “So you’ve got yourself a horse. And a work crew that includes your old girlfriend. And you’re all building a pasture.” Roberta glanced at the busy scene on the hill behind her. Had Wendell lost his mind?

  “Not a pasture,” Wendell corrected. “A paddock.”

  Roberta looked at him. “Paddock.” She let the quiet settle between them. There were so many questions batting around her head that she had no idea where to begin without embarrassing Wendell or sticking her nose in further. “I came for my casserole dish,” she said instead.

  “Right. Sorry, Bertie. I’ve been meaning to return that, just with the last few days and all…” His voice drifted. She waited as he went inside and emerged a moment later with the dish. “It was delicious. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She took the dish and held it against her chest, eyes on the barn. “So what exactly is the plan here?”

  Wendell ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I don’t know. I wanted to help somehow, and rescuing that horse seemed about the only thing I could do.”

  “Uh-huh.” Roberta cocked her head. The Lancasters were a family of means. Everything they did in Saybrook was top-quality. “How much?” she asked.

  Wendell frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “You know what I’m asking.” She nodded in the direction of the barn, where the horse stood outside swishing his tail in the sun. “How much did that rescue cost you?”

  Wendell let his breath out. “More than you want to know.”

  Roberta hugged her dish tighter to her chest. “That much.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Wendell was a man of modest means. Sure, he’d inherited the beautiful farmhouse, but aside from a small military stipend and whatever savings he might have been able to squirrel away as a caretaker, she imagined all his assets were wrapped up in the property she stood on now. That horse probably cost twice more than her car. “I best be off,” she said finally. “Good luck with the fence. And the horse.” She turned down the flagstone path to the driveway, even though she was leaving with far more questions than she’d been able to find answers to since pulling up the driveway. And she didn’t like that one bit.

  “Roberta.”

  She paused and turned around. “Yes?”

  “They want to live with me.”

  There was no way she’d heard right. Cupping one hand over her ear, she walked back toward him. “Excuse these old ears, I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

  Wendell’s expression was grave. “The girls. They sneaked over here in the middle of the night and asked me to be their legal guardian.”

  “Their guardian? You?”

  He shrugged. “I know, it sounds ridiculous.”

  “No, no, I didn’t mean that. But those girls have family, and I can’t imagine their aunt, from what you’ve tol
d me, would even hear of such a thing.”

  “Things at their home are pretty volatile at the moment. Julia hired herself that lawyer. And her lawyer called me yesterday.”

  Roberta could feel her judge’s robe settling over her shoulders as she processed this information, trying to keep her expression and opinion neutral. “I see.” She studied his expression, looking for some clue as to what this meant to him, if anything.

  “I told the girls there was no way I could do this, Bertie. But when Jamie Aldeen asked if we could meet, I agreed to. I figure I at least owe it to Alan and Anne to have the conversation. Even if I don’t think this is the solution.”

  Roberta shrugged. “Well, solutions to problems come in many forms. A change in guardianship depends on many factors, and in this case, the first being the aunt’s desire to release custody of the children. And more important, your desire to obtain it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wendell, do you have such a desire?”

  He flushed. “No, Bertie. I would love to help Pippa and Julia. But I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

  “Right.” Still, Roberta sensed some hesitation. “Because that would be a tremendously life-changing thing, taking guardianship of two children. It’s a commitment that many view as a life calling. And it could be forever.”

  “Like I said, I’m going to the meeting to share all these very points. There may be another way I can help the girls, but that’s not it.” He glanced uneasily up the hill. “Speaking of, I need to get back up there.”

  To her utmost surprise, Wendell leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. It was something he’d not done since he was a little boy.

  Back at home, Roberta called Jamie Aldeen’s office. “So I hear you’ve met my young neighbor,” she said.

  Jamie chuckled. “We’ve had a phone conversation and a meeting, neither short.”

  Roberta began to wonder if she’d made a mistake sending Julia Lancaster to Jamie. Now she was involved. And so was Wendell. “From Julia’s conversation with you, she’s gotten it in her head that she would do best by finding a guardian.”

  “That’s true,” Jamie said. “I think a judge would be hard-pressed to give a fifteen-year-old custody of a minor as well as control over her life. She can’t drive. There’s the matter of a residence. It’s complicated, to say the least.”

  “But you think she has a chance?”

  Jamie sighed. “You know we attorneys don’t like to play the odds or give our clients false hope. If she pursues this officially, I think it’s going to be an uphill battle. But yes. I do think she has a chance. In fact, I filed the motion for a hearing with the court today.”

  Roberta sucked in her breath. So things were already in play. “The reason I ask is that the guardian the children have in mind is a family friend of mine.”

  “Ah. Small world, that town of Saybrook,” Jamie said.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Roberta said, trying to keep the conversation light.

  Jamie said, “I also don’t have to tell you about attorney-client privilege, but I can confirm that a potential guardian is joining us for our meeting tomorrow. I think the best place to start is to make sure everyone wants the same thing and has a firm understanding of what this really involves.”

  “Right you are. Well, I wish you luck. And if you’ve any questions at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out. With your clients’ permission, of course.”

  “Thanks, Roberta.”

  When she hung up, Roberta felt a sudden wave of fatigue. Wendell was right. Whether any of them had wanted to be or not, they were all involved. She wondered about the meeting tomorrow: if Wendell really meant that he was going just to support the girls and set the facts straight. Or if there was some small part of him that was going because he might actually be considering the girls’ request.

  It was ridiculous, in so many ways. Wendell was the closest thing Roberta would ever get to having a child of her own to worry over. As such, she felt protective of him, first. He’d lost so much in his young life, and since, he’d worked hard to keep himself from heartbreak. For years, he’d stayed that course, pushing friends and loved ones away. Forbidding himself any real joy or connection, as if he had to punish himself for something. It had broken her own heart, watching him do that. But she’d come to accept that whatever small way he’d let her in, she would grab ahold of. Wendell had built firm boundaries; he let almost no one through.

  But today there were facts that spoke to a break in those boundaries. The fact that Ginny Feldman was at his house. And he’d pulled that crazy stunt and rescued the horse for Julia. No wonder the girl had set her sights on him as a guardian. In her mind, Wendell had acted heroically. Finally, there was the fact that Wendell was going to meet with Julia’s attorney.

  But there were other facts, of the commonsense variety, that rang out louder. No one knew better than she how many things could go wrong when shuffling children between custodial relationships. As challenging as their situation might be with their aunt, the best thing that could happen to those girls might be to remain with family. They would be cared for and go to the best of schools, and the subsequent travel and adjustments might just make them more resilient.

  Roberta told herself these things as she walked Maisey that afternoon, and later, as she dined outdoors by her garden. People often got notions about what they thought was in the best interest of a child. As a judge, she was armed with more than notions.

  But as she got ready for bed that night, staring at her reflection in the mirror, she could not shake the fact that those children had gone to Wendell in the middle of the night. They had sneaked from their house, ridden their bicycles through darkness, and pulled him from his bed to ask such a question.

  One thing she knew from all her years as a probate judge in the district family court: no matter what outsiders or child development experts or even the courts might think, there was one oft-overlooked barometer for determining what might be best for a child that was truer than all the rest. And that was the wish of the child.

  Twenty-Three Julia

  Her gut had been right. Of course it had. She’d felt it the night Wendell had watched her teach Pippa to ride her bike, which was what had led to the two of them sneaking out and going to his house. But the second she saw Raddy in Wendell’s barn, there was no doubt. Wendell Combs was the guardian they needed.

  Chloe and Sam, however, had not shared her conviction.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Chloe sat cross-legged on Julia’s bedroom rug, braiding Pippa’s hair. “You basically asked a stranger to take you in.”

  “Wendell’s not strange,” Pippa whispered.

  “You mean he’s not a stranger,” Julia corrected.

  Chloe made a face. “He’s probably both.”

  Julia ignored this, distracted momentarily by her best friend’s hands moving deftly through Pippa’s fairy-spun hair. Just as her mother had. But what reminded her most of their mother was watching Chloe section off pieces of hair, quickly and expertly. Julia used to howl when she was that age and her mother tried to braid her hair. What she would give to take that back.

  “So he’s quiet and kind of serious,” Julia argued. “But he takes care of this place like it’s his own. And let’s not forget he saved Raddy.” She glanced out the window at the empty barn. “You just don’t know him.”

  Chloe affixed a sage-green bow to the end of Pippa’s braid and turned to Julia. “Do you? I mean, really, Jules. How well do you know this guy? And let’s remember—he’s a guy.”

  Julia couldn’t dismiss that point. No matter how you looked at it, there was a big difference in having a male guardian versus a female, especially when it came to caring for two girls.

  Sure, she had doubts. What if they didn’t get along? Worse, what if they grew really close but he changed his mind? Then there was the matter of Wendell actually having a life of his own beyond them. There was Ginny, whom he’d introduced as an “old friend” but c
learly seemed to be more. How did she, or any other future woman, fit into the picture? The bottom line was, so much could go wrong.

  Sam had shared some of her darker concerns. “Jules, this sounds kind of crazy to me. What if he’s a predator?”

  This made her leap to the defense. “Oh, please. My father knew Wendell for years while he worked here. He even went to Wendell’s house a few times, and I don’t recall any mention of bodies buried in the backyard.”

  Sam was not letting her off the hook. “My mistake. No shallow graves guarantees he’ll be a super stand-in parent.”

  “Look, my dad was a good judge of character.” She paused, trying to lighten the moment. “That’s why I never introduced him to you.”

  Sam scoffed. “Hilarious. But seriously, Jules—this guy could be a total delinquent.”

  “I don’t think so, Sam. He served in the National Guard. In fact, my dad told me he saw active combat and even got some kind of medal.”

  “Well, that’s pretty cool. But I’ve also heard that going to war can give people trauma. It can mess them up.”

  “Mess them up, like becoming an overnight orphan messes someone up?”

  Sam shut up as soon as she said it. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay. Just forget it.” This was what always happened. Death found its way into conversations, no matter whom she was talking to or what about. All around her, the veil of her parents’ loss loomed.

  The one person she did not tell about Wendell’s rescue of Radcliffe was Candace. It was too risky. Candace had not been happy when Wendell delivered them back home the other night. After being woken by the ringing doorbell, Candace had looked aghast, seeing the three of them standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, she’d sent the girls up to their rooms, but Julia could hear the fury in her tone as she spoke with Wendell.

  “I’m very sorry to have woken you with such a fright,” he’d said. “I told the girls I’d have to bring them right home.”