Castles in the Sand (10 page)

Now Pepper dug in the canvas bag that served as her purse and a tote for Mickey’s toys and snacks. Susan’s purses were small, neatly organized, and coordinated with her outfits.

“Kenzie, I really, really appreciate you coming over on your day off to take care of Mickey. If I don’t get my time away, I start to pull out my hair.”

She laughed. “I know. I’ve seen you.”

“I guess you have.”

Good or bad, Pepper’s feelings were no secret. Her laughter was contagious, and her hair pulling—she literally grabbed hunks of hair—was…well, it was real. As though negativity was an acceptable part of life, so just blow off some steam and get over it.

Pepper worked three afternoons a week at a musty bookshop that sold new and used copies of every book under the sun. She swore the place had been offering espresso ages before big chain stores with their chic coffee bars existed. It was a favorite of Aidan’s and Kenzie’s.

How cool was that? Not only did they like the same place she did, it was a
funky
place that regular fortysomething-year-olds like Susan and Drake wouldn’t be caught dead in.

Then there was Mick, Aidan’s dad, the obvious love of Pepper’s life. He was totally certifiable over her as well. At their age! And she even had love handles at her waist! And the two of them even
kissed—really
kissed, none of that air-kissing stuff—in front of whoever happened to be around at the time. And with their open door policy, that meant plenty of people were around day and night.

Pepper gave her a quick smile and jiggled the bag. No keys clanked. “Your mom called earlier. I didn’t talk to her, but she left a message. It’s still on the machine.”

“Oh.” After Pepper’s report on how yesterday’s meeting went with Susan, Kenzie resolved not to talk about her mom. She probably came across like a doofus, ignoring Pepper’s comment now, but it just hurt too much to go there. Despite Susan’s lame effort to communicate with Kenzie through Pepper, the bottom line was her parents had disowned her and Pepper and Mick Carlucci had taken her in.

Kenzie changed the subject. “You know I love hanging out with Mickey J. Besides, I’m glad I’m available so you don’t have to send him to that flu-infested preschool today.” She smiled. “Maybe your keys are in the van. I’ll go look.”

She found them in the ignition, of all places, and Pepper left immediately for work.

Kenzie checked on Mickey J in his bedroom and found him entranced with a construction project. He was so like his dad. Or Aidan, for that matter, except he lost himself in music. Experience told her the little guy wouldn’t need her attention until the plastic block city was completely built.

Just the sight of him often sent a wave of intense emotion through Kenzie. It was a vague thing, a mix of melancholy and joy and hope and nausea. Was she really going to have her own kid?

She returned to the kitchen and stared at the answering machine. Pepper hadn’t insisted she listen to her mom’s message. She hadn’t even told her what she said. That was another cool thing about the woman. She respected boundaries.

Actually, her mother did that too. She let Kenzie be. She let her make choices. She let her sing wild rock music and quit college and go to Europe without harassing her about her off-the-wall decisions.

But with Susan, it just looked as though she didn’t care.

Kenzie punched the answering machine button.

“Uh, Pepper. This is Susan. Kenzie’s mom. I mentioned I’m leaving the beach house on Friday? I, uh, plan to head out around four o’clock.” That fake singsong beat of hers fizzled. “I wanted to remind you just in case Kenzie was…thinking of coming down.” Another pause. “Thank you.”

“Oh, Mom,” Kenzie whispered.

On the freeway, through a drizzly rain, Pepper drove her full-size van like a semi driver strung out on one of those supercharged caffeine/gotu kola drinks and making up for lost time.

Mickey Junior was healthy as a rock. He had been since the day he was born. Why did Pepper act as if not sending him to preschool was her own fantastic idea? The thought not to expose him to possible flu had never even entered her mind. Nope. It was Kenzie’s remonstration that did it. She said her pregnant body was vulnerable, and if Mickey brought home germs, she would be exposed and endangered. The grandbaby’s welfare was at stake. That was the reason Pepper decided he should stay home.

Eww. She was blaming her unnecessary choice on Aidan’s girlfriend’s opinion?

Resentment crept in, stiffening her neck.

She jerked the steering wheel and swerved into the exit lane.

And leaving her keys in the van? In the ignition? In their neighborhood? Even an old family vehicle with a dented fender screamed money to someone. What was she thinking?

Probably that she’d lost her son to a young hussy whose model for wife and mother was Susan Starr, the uptight picture-perfect pastor’s partner.

Mick’s words from last night nibbled at her resentment, the ones about his mother resenting Pepper because she had stolen away her son.

Kenzie was a beautiful person. Not a hussy. She couldn’t change the character of her mother or her parents’ marriage. She could use a different model. Was erasing her heritage even a possibility, though?

Pepper skimmed along the off-ramp and merged into traffic on a business district street.

“All right, Lord. I admit she is sweet and thoughtful. She always has been. She has not changed. Help me to accept her as a daughter-in-law, even in this technically nonlegal condition. If restructuring my relationship with Aidan is what that takes…Oh, nuts.”

If?

If she didn’t, their relationship would resemble her own mother-in-law’s with her son. Not a pretty sight.

“Okay, okay. I get it!”

She cruised into a parking lot, turned into the first vacant space she came to, slammed on the brakes, and shoved the gearshift into park—all prayed up and outside the shop with two minutes to spare.

Now if only her heart would slow down.

At the beach on Thursday, the sun shone from a cloudless sky. Azure blue.

No monkeys jumped on the bed or weighted down Susan’s shoulders. The previous day’s cozy fire, Helen MacInnes thriller, and chicken soup had worked wonders. Chocolate brownies had cinched the effect.

Chocolate, Susan? Drake’s voice. A novel? A cozy fire? It’s God who works wonders, not secular, material things
.

She shrugged off his opinion and went through the motions of her everyday routine. Shower, two soft-boiled eggs, lightly buttered toast, tea, the one-word prayer and fruitless wait, walk the dog.

She and Pugsy headed north at a fast clip that took them beyond the pier, farther than they had yet explored. The scent of roasted coffee beans saturated the crisp air. She slowed at Kono’s kiosk alongside the boardwalk, a place which she vaguely remembered sold a nice variety of herbal teas.

Why don’t you drink coffee anymore?
Now Natalie’s voice spoke in her thoughts.

In the past, Susan enjoyed coffee. She drank it with milk and sugar, just like her grandmother had. About five years ago, after a visit to the doctor, Drake announced that his bouts with trembling fingers and acid stomach were the effects of caffeine. He didn’t want to see or smell coffee in the house.

In support, she gave it up as well. After all, if she were forced to abstain, would she want to watch him drink it or smell its rich scent?

She fingered the ten-dollar bill and loose change she always carried in the pocket of her light jacket on Pugsy walks. One never knew…

“May I help you?”

She started, surprised to find herself under the green canopy in front of the counter. “I…I would like…” she exhaled the c-word,
“coffee.”

“What kind?” The young woman reminded her of Kenzie. Too thin, too much black clothing, too much tummy showing, too many ear piercings. And a genuine smile that lit up her face and warmed Susan down to her toes.

She scanned the chalkboard’s long list of types and flavors and sizes. “Just regular. Whatever the special is.”

“French roast okay?”

“Fine.” She eyed the goodies displayed inside a large case.

“What size?”

“Big. The biggest.” She smiled. “And one of those apple muffins.”

“Coming right up, ma’am.”

The motions of everyday routine disintegrated.

Pepper leafed through a cookbook at her kitchen counter in search of a recipe for gnocchi. The recent talk about her mother-in-law produced a craving for one of her old dishes. Not that Bella Carlucci had ever shared an original recipe with her. Nope, she carried those things with her to her grave. Her daughter-in-law, that hussy who stole her son, would never know the correct way to prepare gnocchi.

The door leading to the attached garage opened, and a laundry basket entered, followed by Kenzie.

Speaking of hussies for in-laws
.

Kenzie set the basket on the floor beside the kitchen table. She was laundering her and Aidan’s things in Pepper’s washer and dryer, located in the garage. Although the girl had been at the house less than twenty-four hours ago to babysit Mickey Junior, she hadn’t brought laundry with her. Evidently none needed to be done
yesterday
. Pepper thought herself casual, but the young couple carried the adjective to stratosphere level.

“Pepper, are you sure you don’t mind me doing our laundry here?”

“Nope.” She turned a page in the cookbook.

“Aidan said it was fine.”

She looked up again. The girl was folding her second load of the morning, the third was in the dryer, and still she wanted reassurance of her welcome. “Kenzie, you’ve been around long enough to know how it is in this house.
Mi casa es su casa
.”

“Yeah, but that was before Aidan and I were living together.”

Pepper’s automatic response died in her throat. She couldn’t quite get out,
So why should that change things?
Their living together, their pregnancy, had indeed changed things. Despite Pepper’s brave words to accept Kenzie as a semi-daughter-in-law and accept the change in her own relationship with Aidan, and despite the fact that she prayed daily along those lines, discomfort crept in. Mick had nailed it, of course. She resented Kenzie for stealing away her son, for dumping on him the burden of raising a child before he was married.

Kenzie’s comment hung in the air between them. The girl turned her attention to folding towels at the table.

Pepper went back to her cookbook, but the print wavered as if she swam undersea. She gazed at Kenzie through her eyelashes. Slight of build like her mother, the girl-woman resembled a fragile urchin who craved love and acceptance and a place to belong.

I think the question is, does Jesus welcome us with open arms? With our faults? Did He die on the cross for us because we did everything right?

Pepper stifled a groan. Words spoken in a huff always boomeranged, flying back to zing her unexpectedly.

If anyone gives so much as a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is a disciple, then in truth I tell you, he will most certainly not go without his reward
.

There went Matthew again, using her voice to paraphrase himself quoting Jesus.

The point seemed not that a reward was involved. The point was that if any little one needed a cup of cold water, it was Mackenzie Starr. And at the moment, no one else appeared to be available to give it.

“Kenzie.” Pepper went to the table, sat down, and met those uniquely shaped, pretty blue-gray eyes that had surely done a number on Aidan. “My son loves you. That means you are family. You are not a guest. You are not just any old band member. You are the mother of my grandchild. Okay?”

Kenzie nodded once and smiled. “Okay.”

“How about some coffee? I have those espresso beans you like so much.”

“Oh, I can’t.” She picked up another towel to fold. “Caffeine is a no-no for the baby.”

Pepper froze. She had made a special stop the previous day at a special gourmet place and paid a special price—all for Kenzie. “Hmm. Really? I drank coffee with six pregnancies. No problem that I was aware of.”

“People didn’t know the effects of caffeinated drinks on the fetus back then. Do you have any herbal organic tea?”

Susan Starr drank herbal tea. At Starbucks. “I have black tea. The orange pekoe stuff.”

“I don’t mean to sound like my mother.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “She drinks only tea and only herbal. But I prefer that now. It’s best for the baby. Aidan likes it too.”

Pepper lolled her head around in a circle. “Well, we’ll have to get some. What kind do you and Aidan prefer?”

And to think there were five more children who someday would bring home the love of their lives. Before all was said and done, Pepper Carlucci could have a dozen grown children under her wings and twice that many grandbabies!

She wanted to scream.

On Friday morning, Susan did not notice the weather.

She awoke refreshed with only two thoughts on her mind. The previous day’s coffee had not bothered her in the least and no eggs remained in the refrigerator.

She dressed immediately, called to Pugsy, and did not even consider going through the morning routine.