Beach Colors (30 page)

The crab hung on, and Margaux slid the pail underneath it just before it let go of the string.

“Ta-da,” she crowed.

Connor grinned, his new tooth just beginning to show, and he held up his string for Margaux to bait again.

As their crab collection grew, Margaux’s back began to ache and she was worried about Connor getting a sunburn.

She pointed out some of the other creatures left in the pool by the tides. One even had a little minnow swimming in the shadows of the rock.

“They’re called tide pools,” Margaux explained. “The tide brings them in, and when it goes out again, it traps them in these pools of water.”

Connor peered into the pool, leaning over so far that Margaux grabbed the back of his shirt.

“Are they going to die?”

Taken aback, it took a moment for Margaux to answer. “No. The tide comes in and washes them out to sea again.”
Usually.

“I want to put them back.”

She leaned closer. “What did you say, sweetie?”

“I want to put the crabs back. I don’t want them to die.”

“Don’t you want to show your gran and Uncle Nick?”

He shook his head. “I want to put them back. There.” He pointed across the far side of the jetty to the cove where they had skipped rocks.

“I don’t think we should go there. These rocks are very slippery and your gran would be sad if you skinned your knee or elbow.”

He didn’t argue, just kept looking down into the cove. Then he turned to her, so close that their foreheads almost touched. “That’s where the Grotto is.”

“Yes, it is. What a smart boy you are to recognize the cove.”

“Can we go there?”

“Not today. But sometime maybe, from Jake’s house. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go see how the sand castle is doing.” Margaux helped him down the rocks and onto the sand. The kids were gone so Margaux and Connor poked around the sand castle, Margaux pointing out turrets and the moat and the windows made from seashells.

When they got back to the house, Roger had started the ice cream maker, and Jude and Mrs. Prescott were sitting on the front porch.

At Margaux’s insistence, Connor showed them his catch. “Now can we put them back?”

“Of course,” Margaux said. “Shall I take a picture of them first?”

He nodded.

She went into the house for her cell and took a picture of Connor holding the bucket, and then a couple of close-ups of the crabs. “Want to see?”

He nodded again and grinned when he saw his picture on the screen.

“Can we put them back now?”

“Yes, I’ll just go out and dump them in the waves.”

“Will they drown?”

“No, they’re crabs. They live in the ocean.”

“Okay.”

Margaux trekked out to the water’s edge, Connor tagging along, carefully overseeing the bucket. She walked out into the water and lowered the pail, and let the surf rinse it clean and carry the crabs away. Then she held up the empty pail.

“Goodbye, crabs,” she called.

“Goodbye, crabs,” Connor called after her.

Margaux stopped, the pail suspended in the air. She could hear him; he was standing on the shore with the shore noises around him, and she could hear him. This was the second time he’d spoken out loud. That had to be a good sign. She had to force herself to stay calm. She was thrilled, but she didn’t want to call attention to it and risk driving him back into silence. “Let’s see if Roger has finished making the ice cream.”

She took his hand and they ran back to the house, Margaux’s feelings soaring at Connor’s small breakthrough.

They celebrated the crabs’ release with softly frozen ice cream. Mrs. Prescott and Connor got ready to leave.

“What do you say?”

“I had a nice time,” he whispered.

“Connor, honey, she can’t hear you.”

Connor looked like he might cry.

Margaux knelt down. She wouldn’t force him to speak.

“I had a nice time.” He threw his arms around Margaux’s neck. He whispered something in her ear. It sounded like, “I love you.”

Her heart constricted; she gave him a quick hug and stood up. “I’m very glad you could come.”

“It was so kind of you,” Mrs. Prescott said.

“My pleasure. See you tomorrow?”

Mrs. Prescott nodded and trundled Connor out the door.

Margaux sank into a kitchen chair, still shaken by what she thought she’d heard.

“Tired?” asked Jude.

Margaux groaned. “Kids are exhausting.”

“Yes, they are,” Jude said. “No matter how old they are.”

W
e caught crabs with a string,” Connor said.

“You what?” Nick asked as he came over to where Connor sat at the kitchen table.

“We caught crabs with a string.”

Nick was tired and frustrated; it had been a long day and he wished for once he could hear Connor without having to hunch over like an old man. At least Connor was more animated than Nick had ever seen him. That was something.

He pulled a chair over, sat down next to his nephew, and leaned close to him.

“Crabs, huh?”

“Margaux took pictures with her phone and she’s going to send them to Nana.”

“Cool. What happened to the crabs?”

“We put them back in the ocean.”

“Live to be caught another day.”

Connor frowned at him.

“So you had a good time?”

Connor nodded. “We climbed on the big rocks. I wanted to go to the Grotto, but Margaux said we had to ask you.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Can we go, Uncle Nick? I want to make a wish.”

“What?”

“I want to make a wish,” Connor said on a big expulsion of air.

“Bud, the Grotto can’t make wishes come true. It’s just a rock. It’s dangerous. And I don’t want you going there. Understand?”

“It does, too. Margaux said.”

“Well, Margaux was mistaken.”

“She said.”

This time Nick could barely hear him. And the disappointment in Connor’s small face cut right to his heart. But he couldn’t have the kid running off to the woods every time his back was turned. God only knew what could happen to him.

His mother put a penny on the table before Connor. “Why don’t you make a wish in the birdbath out back?”

Connor looked skeptical but he took the penny and slid off his chair.

“Hurry back, dinner’s almost ready.”

She turned on Nick.

Nick raked his fingers through his hair. “I know. I know. You don’t have to tell me. But he can’t go around thinking that his wishes are going to come true. Especially not if he thinks he has to go to that . . . I already found him there once. I thought he had just wandered off into the woods.”

He braced his elbows on the kitchen table and felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder. “Let him have his dreams, Nick.”

“I don’t want to take them away. I just want to keep him safe.”

“I know you do. But a boy needs to dream.”

Delicate fingers stroked his hair.

“I need a haircut,” he said, grasping at the mundane.

“I like it longer. You have your father’s hair.”

And Ben’s.
“I have to go.”

“Supper’s almost ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Nicky, I wasn’t chastising you.”

“I know, I’m just tired.”

“Nicky.”

“Later, Ma.”

He practically stumbled out the door.
A boy needs to dream.

M
argaux had finally seen Jude and Roger off and she’d just sat down with a much-needed glass of Pinot Noir when there was a knock at the back door.

She pushed out of the cabbage rose chair and went to the kitchen. She could see a large form behind the screen door. She recognized him immediately and her stomach did a little shake, rattle, and roll.

“Come on in. Are you on duty or can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Neither.”

She stiffened. So not a social call. “Then what can I do for you?”

“You can stop filling Connor’s head with ideas that his wishes will come true.”

“What are you talking about? We went crabbing. Your mother was here the whole time. We ate ice cream.
C’est tout
.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s French for that’s all.”

“Don’t condescend to me. I have a degree. I can even understand a modicum of French.”

He glowered at her, the intensity of his eyes making her take a step back.

“Oh, for crying out loud. You came all the way over here to read my beads over being nice to your nephew and then top it off with the undeserved accusation that I think you’re stupid.”

He’d started to pace but he stopped. Margaux swore she could hear him grinding his teeth. He was a man so close to the edge that she should be afraid of him. But she wasn’t. Because all that anger was coming from a man who was hurting.

She’d done the same thing herself when she’d first found out about Louis. “I’m sorry. Could we please just start again?”

Nick took a deep breath and Margaux half expected his next words to come out in a whisper like Connor’s. “Look, the kid has had a rough time. Just don’t tell him his wishes can come true.”

“I didn’t. We didn’t even talk about wishes. Just crabs.”

“He said you told him the Grotto would make his wishes come true. You know what he wants, don’t you. He wants his father and mother, but he can’t have that. What will happen when they don’t come back?”

Margaux tried to remember their conversation.

“He wanted to go to the Grotto. I said he’d have to ask you. That’s all.”

“Then where did he get the idea?”

“I don’t know.” But she did. She vaguely remembered the day she’d shown them the Grotto and told him it was where they played pirates and dreamed their dreams. But what was wrong with that? “Dreams, not wishes. I told him that’s where we dreamed our dreams.”

“He’s six. He doesn’t know the difference. Do you understand what you’ve done?”

Margaux had been feeling guilty, but now her temper flared. “Who the hell are you to tell me how to act and what to say? The kid should be allowed to dream. Everyone should. Maybe you don’t know how to, but it doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.”

“Why can’t you just—”

“Butt out? I’ll stay away from Connor, but you have to tell him why. And you’ll have to figure out what to do with him when Adelaide is working, unless you plan to make her quit, too. No wonder the kid doesn’t talk. You’re so heavy-handed, he’s probably afraid to.”

She heard her words and couldn’t stop them. She saw his face and knew she had hurt him. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not like that. It was spite talking.” She stretched out her hand.

“No. You’re right. I’m—” He turned abruptly. The door slammed behind him before she could say “I’m sorry.”

Twenty-one

M
argaux was hollow-eyed when she set off for work the next morning. She hadn’t slept. Several times in the night she considered getting in her car and waking Nick up to tell him what she really thought. But she wasn’t sure what she thought.

She just knew that she loved that kid and she was afraid she was beginning to love Nick.

Adelaide was already working when Margaux did manage to drag herself out of bed and go to the shop. Connor was sitting on the floor wearing his pirate cape, which was looking the worse for wear, and playing with a row of Matchbox cars.

Well, at least Nick hadn’t gotten to his mother yet.

Of course, it was never too late for him to throw his weight around. She’d best let Adelaide know about what had happened the night before.

Making sure Connor was occupied, Margaux motioned for Adelaide to follow her into the other room.

“Your son isn’t very happy with me right now. Actually, he told me pretty much to leave his family alone. I don’t know how you want to handle it. I just wanted to tell you that I’d really like you to keep working, but I don’t want to make trouble between you and Nick and Connor.”

Mrs. Prescott pursed her lips. “He’s not very happy with me, either; I take it he came blustering to you after he left me. You don’t have to answer, I can tell somebody had a sleepless night. He’ll come around if you just give him some time.”

Margaux tried for a smile, but stifled a yawn instead. “You need to know that I said some things that I didn’t really mean. I was pretty harsh.”

“You two will work it out. He’s not an easy man. He had too much responsibility thrust on him at too early an age, and now with Connor. But he’s a good man. A caring man, one who takes care of his family before anything else.”

“I know.” Margaux tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. “He wants me to stay away from Connor.”

“He’s afraid Connor will become too dependent. Will come to expect more from you than you are able—or willing—to give. He’s just trying to protect him.”

“I understand that. I really do. I like Connor but I don’t want to complicate his life. And I don’t want to disappoint him when—”

Adelaide patted her arm. “Let things take their course. Don’t let Nick bully you. He doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t know how not to. Now let’s get to work. I think we’re ready to drape that lovely shantung.”

Adelaide’s cell rang and she stepped into the foyer to take it. Her cheeks were flushed when she came back inside.

“That was my son. I told him I was working late and if he wanted to apologize to you he knew where to find us.”

They had worked side by side for several hours when Connor held up a piece of green construction paper.

“Look. I made a dinosaur.”

Margaux looked up. She pushed a smile on her face while her mind reeled. She’d heard him speak and she was on the other side of the table. “That’s . . . wow. That’s a fantastic dinosaur. Is it a T. rex?”

“No. It’s a stegosaurus. It has spikes.”

“I’ll say.” Margaux glanced at Adelaide, who was staring at her grandson, her expression arrested in surprise. She had heard him, too.

“See, Nana? I cut out a dinosaur.”

Adelaide nodded, her smile wavering. “You sure did.”

Her voice was unsteady and a frown began to creep on Connor’s face as if he had just realized he’d done something wrong. He still hadn’t told anyone why he wouldn’t talk, but that didn’t matter anymore. Connor was talking and Margaux was determined to keep him talking.