Larkspur Cove (33 page)

I wondered, briefly, if I was getting in over my head, but the alternative to working things out with Len was an emergency foster care placement. Foster care in this county was incredibly overcrowded already. Every time I thought of moving Birdie, I saw her clinging to Len’s shirt, him leaning down so that she could whisper in his ear. If they were separated, would she close herself off completely?

“What – you don’t think I can handle it?” The question came out sounding almost glib, which I knew Taz would appreciate. After two days of four-wheeling the back roads in Taz’s pickup, I felt like a cross between Evel Knievel and Wonder Woman. There was something surprisingly empowering about four-wheel drive and a great big hemi engine.

“I think you can handle it.” Taz gave me a sly smile.

I resisted the urge to put forth a gushing thank-you. “I might even be able to get through the low-water crossing tomorrow. I drove by there and checked it today.”

“Don’t get my truck washed off down a creek.”

“I won’t.” I flipped a hand to let him know it was all under control. Everything seemed to be coming up roses the last two days, in spite of the general sogginess of the landscape. I’d made some progress toward convincing Lonnie that life with a man who beat her up in front of her kids, was cruel to animals, and threatened the school bus driver, wasn’t healthy. My appointment with little Daniel’s grandmother had yielded not only a good report about the water safety course, but the approval of more potentially healthy activities for a wannabe fifth-grade dropout.Yesterday I’d even helped to find some support services for the mom whose husband was deployed with the military, and I’d talked a pregnant teenager into considering real drug rehab, instead of a do-it-yourself program that included hanging out with her old crowd.

Now having Birdie’s referral safely in my hand felt like the icing on the cake. Mart was the first one I wanted to call. I was on top of the world and couldn’t wait to share the victory with him.

“That truck’s gone to your head,” Taz observed, and a blush warmed my cheeks. It wasn’t the truck that was in my head right now.

“I like the truck,” I admitted. “Dustin and I think we need to trade in the car and buy one.” Not that there would be a shiny new four-by-four appearing in my driveway anytime soon, but at breakfast Dustin and I had enjoyed doing a little fantasizing about buying a truck like Taz’s. “When I make my first million.”

Taz chuckled. “You need to move to LA and psychoanalyze reality-TV stars and potential plastic surgery patients to get the big bucks.”

“Nah, I think I’m happy where I am.” Taz and I smiled at each other, just as Bonnie wandered by.

She stopped and poked her head in the door, her gaze traveling from me to the big boss and back. “What’s going on here? Everyone looks so . . . happy.” In an office where the business was dealing with people’s issues, the mood frequently ranged from vaguely preoccupied, to frustrated, to downright glum. At the moment,Taz was grinning like a dime-store Santa and rubbing his stomach with a look of satisfaction. “It’s a good day when things work out. The old man still knows a few things, eh?”

“Nothing like learning from the best,” I chirped, and held my hands in the air, bowing in homage over the desktop. I really was learning from the best. How I’d gotten so lucky, I couldn’t imagine. This office was exactly where I was supposed to be, Taz exactly the kind of mentor I needed. My having landed here was practically a miracle. Practically . . . a gift? A gift from the God I had been certain had turned a blind eye my way?

With a belly laugh, the world’s most supportive boss turned and left my office before things could grow too sentimental.

Bonnie gave me a quizzical look. “Wow, that’s the happiest I’ve seen him in forever. He looks almost . . . relaxed. It’s weird.”

“He needs to relax a little.” I swiveled back to my computer screen, because Bonnie had scooted a few more inches into my doorway and was starting to look comfortable there. I had reports to finish, and then I was ready to head home for the day. On the way I’d call Mart and let him know I’d gotten Birdie’s referral and would need to set up an appointment time to meet with Len. Since Len had no phone, I’d need Mart’s help with that. . . .

I fought a giddy little smile, looking forward to the prospect. Unfortunately, Bonnie was still in my doorway. “You look happier than normal, too.” The statement was open-ended, a question almost. “Seen the hunky game warden lately?”

“Huh?” I muttered, trying to appear too focused on work to be thinking about hunky game wardens. “Oh . . . ummm . . . not recently.” I felt my cheeks sizzle. Spitting out a lie was incredibly wrong after two days loaded with undeserved blessings. Even so, I couldn’t imagine letting Bonnie – or anyone else – in on my personal life, especially the part that included Mart. Which was exactly the problem. As much as I enjoyed spending time with Mart, as much as that time felt natural and right when we were together, I couldn’t picture where this was going, or where it could. When I thought about other people finding out, about their reactions, about what my parents would say, what Meg would say, what old acquaintances from Houston would think, how Dustin might react . . .

My mind whirled and my stomach clenched at the idea. It had been over a year since my life with Karl fell apart, but still . . . What if people thought I was just out looking for a replacement, that I was jumping into a relationship because I couldn’t make it on my own?

What if I was?

I swept away the mind storm before it could rain on my perfectly sunny day.
If you have one eye on yesterday, and one eye on tomorrow,
you’ll be cockeyed today.
Good advice from Mart and the Waterbird. For the time being, everything was fine. I just needed to concentrate on the present.

“Uh-huh . . .” Bonnie murmured doubtfully, and then she invited me to singles game night at her church again.

“I don’t think singles night is for me, but thanks.” I remained focused on the computer screen.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Bonnie take a step toward the door, giving up.

She turned to leave, then paused. “You know, there’s lots of divorced people there. We’ve all got issues. God loves people with issues, too.”

“I know.” But the truth was that I didn’t. Spreading your issues out on the table and having people love you anyway wasn’t within my normal frame of reference. I suppose, in spite of all the times I’d heard
God loves you just the way you are
during Sunday school classes and women’s retreats, or helped kids to write that phrase on construction-paper butterflies and keepsake bookmarks, I’d never really internalized it. I’d twisted the meaning to fit my perceptions.
God loves you when you’re the way you’re supposed to be, and so will other
people.
If you want to be loved, don’t be impulsive, don’t be careless, don’t be flawed.

Yet, here was Bonnie, offering friendship when I’d rebuffed all her invitations, when I often made her job harder by bungling my own, when I was anything but perfect. I wasn’t really even competent at my job yet. I hadn’t done much to impress anybody, yet Taz was willing to support me, and Bonnie was inviting me to social engagements, showing me kindness I really hadn’t earned.

“Maybe in a few weeks, when we’re settled in,” I said, and Bonnie backed a step into the hall, tossing a length of sleek blond hair over her shoulder, her eyes seeming too large and luminous in her thin face.

“Well, the invitation’s always open.”

I glanced up at her, and she smiled a private little smile.

“But in the meantime, you’re crazy if you don’t go after the hunky game warden.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I didn’t trust myself to answer.

“Just trying to be of assistance.” Bonnie wandered off down the hall, and I went back to work with her suggestion buzzing around in my brain, making lazy circles like a dragonfly on a summer day.

You’re crazy if you don’t go after the hunky game warden. . . .

Bonnie’s voice was still in my head two hours later, as I wrapped up my day and drove back to Moses Lake.

Topping the hill above the Waterbird, I spotted Mart’s truck in the parking lot, and the gravitational pull was more than I could resist. I drifted in . . . to buy a soda and some sandwiches for supper . . . or . . . something.

When I stepped through the door, Mart was near the cash register, studying the doughnut case with serious interest. No one was behind the counter, and the usual crowd of coffee-drinking men had gathered on the back porch at the picnic tables. Sheila was busy cleaning the fryer in the kitchen area, so I let the door close silently, then tiptoed across the room to surprise Mart at the doughnut case.

For a half second, I was tempted to put a hand over his eyes and say,
Guess who?
Like an adolescent trying to flirt. Instead, I slipped in behind him and said, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the doughnuts.” A giddy sensation fluttered through me as he started to turn around, and in an instant of wild abandon, I imagined stealing a kiss while Sheila’s back was turned. How would he react, if I did?

I didn’t have the guts, of course, and aside from that, I knew it would be the wrong thing to do. It would only further confuse an already muddled group of issues. Even so, the idea was like chocolate – tempting, hard to resist, a delight to all the senses.

Mart turned with a quick jerk, his face a mask of surprise that quickly changed to a guarded expression. It set me back on my heels.The welcome I’d expected wasn’t there. My giddy flutter died, descending flightless. A random rush of thoughts compiled possible reasons for that look. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen with me here. Maybe he was busy with work and didn’t have time to talk.

Maybe he had something else on his mind. Maybe he didn’t like me after all.

Maybe he didn’t think about those nights on the dock at least two dozen times a day. . . .

Maybe I was just something he did when he was bored in the evening. A way to pass time. . . .

Maybe he was he involved with someone else. Or more than one someone. . . .

Maybe he was here with someone else right now. . . .

The idea that Robin Hood might have other Maid Marians stashed here and there around the lake stung in a way I hadn’t expected. I surveyed the room again, mentally preparing myself to see a woman there, to find him on a date with someone. The thought was humiliatingly awkward.

A head popped up from behind the candy counter, and I stood staring with my mouth open. Cassandra? She glanced at Mart, and I knew they were here together. Her dark eyes widened at the sight of me, and her lips hung open a fraction, as if she didn’t know what to say.

She ducked behind the counter, and my mind did a Bambi-on-ice scramble. What was going on?

Cassandra reappeared, and this time someone else was with her. Dustin?

A flash of trepidation crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. “Hey, Mom. I was just gonna call you. I mean, I woulda called earlier, but I knew you were working.”

“What are you doing here?” I groped mentally, trying to piece together an explanation. How had Dustin gotten here? Had Mart come in just before me and caught Cassandra and Dustin in the store together? That would explain the weird look when Mart saw me. Maybe he was afraid World War III was about to erupt.

Dustin glanced sideways at Mart, and Mart rolled a stern look in Dustin’s direction. “I thought you said you called your mom, Dustin.”

My son squirmed, his shoulders wriggling as if his T-shirt were made of steel wool. “I was gonna . . . as soon as she . . . got off work.” Clearly, he was making the sentence up at he went along, searching for something that would smooth the waters. He lifted both eyebrows in a beseeching look that said,
Please don’t make me look like a stupid
little kid right now.
“I knew you’d be in counseling sessions and stuff, and then we got busy and . . . well, I forgot. That’s all.”

“Dustin . . .” After fourteen years as a mother, you know that
I
forgot
really means
I was afraid you’d say no, and I wanted to do what I
wanted to do.
It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

“My fault, totally,” Mart stepped in. “I should’ve made sure he called before we headed out.” All of a sudden, I felt like they were ganging up on me – conspiring the way Megan and I used to when we were trying to get around my parents’ razor-wire fence of rules.

Conspiring the way Megan and I used to . . .
Was I jumping to conclusions, thinking the worst when I should have been keeping an open mind? Dustin was with Mart, after all. Didn’t I spend my days teaching parents how
not
to escalate conflicts with their kids – how to be fair, nonjudgmental, and open-minded until they’d gotten all the facts and considered them rationally?

I took a deep breath, pulling the lid off the boiling pot and letting the steam dissipate. “Well, so what’s going on? What did I miss?”

Dustin and Cassandra were momentarily shocked, and then Dustin stepped from behind the candy shelf, looking newly confident that shrapnel wasn’t headed his way.“The projector and sound system in the community center blew a cog before water safety class, so the dude from the church, Reverend Hay, brought over his projector and sound system so we could have class. But then his equipment wouldn’t work either, so the COE dude just, like, talked to us, and we were out early. I told them I knew about sound systems because Dad and I used to run ours at church, and I could probably fix it, so we took it over to our house. Then Mr. McClendon had to go check some boats for these zebra muscle clam-looking things that are an invasive species. They’re bad for the lake. He asked if I wanted to go along and help, so I did. Then we came by here to grab a coke and a candy bar, and Cassandra was next door helping her mom clean cabins, so she came over. Mr. McClendon’s about to go to the dock and do some measuring to build ramps and a guardrail so Pop Dorsey can get down there in his wheelchair, and I told him if he needed help, I didn’t have anything big going on right now.”