6

  ANN WAS UP AND DRESSED IN SWEATS AND running shoes before the sun rose the next morning. She wrote a note for Craig telling him where she was and that she would be back before he had to leave and left it taped to the bathroom mirror.

She was looking forward to time alone–just her and seagulls and sanderlings, and if she were lucky, an otter or two. While it would have been nice to have a guide to the wildlife, she didn’t expect the old woman to be up this early, and Ann couldn’t wait around for her and still get back before Craig had to leave.

Quietly unfastening the lock on the front door, Ann stepped outside and looked at the eastern sky. In minutes, the clouds hugging the mountains had gone from deep purple to lavender. Like sprinters, mornings seemed in a rush to get started while nightfall moved at the slower, more even pace of a marathoner.

She missed running. It was something everyone assumed she did to keep in shape, but they were wrong. She ran because she liked the way it made her feel. Alone on a course with only her thoughts for company, she experienced an intoxicating freedom that made whatever she had to face that day possible. Craig had understood this need in her and for her birthday–which was a month after Angela and Jeremy’s–had given her a high-tech baby stroller so they could go together when he wasn’t there to baby-sit.

When her six-week leave from work neared an end, she asked Craig what he thought of her staying home until Angela started school. He’d given his enthusiastic support, immediately refiguring their budget to accommodate the lost income.

Their lives had been perfect. For three and a half months they had known unbridled happiness and had been lured into believing it would always be that way. How naive they’d been. How foolish.

By the time Ann reached the beach, the sky belonged to the day. She stretched, then headed toward the rocky outcropping at the southern end of the cove at a brisk walk, obeying all the training rules that said to start slow after a long layoff. Despite the good intentions, she was soon at a gentle, loping run, her feet hitting the hard wet sand in long strides, digging in and moving on.

The lope became a trot and the trot a run. Pumping her arms, she ran faster and faster, feeling the salty air on her face, the wind in her hair, and the treasures of the night’s high tide at her feet. She ran to escape, to find, to forget, and to remember. She ran until the muscles in her legs burned and her heart pounded in her ears so loudly it was the only sound she heard. She ran until her toe caught a piece of driftwood and she was sent tumbling head over heels through the cream-colored bubbles at the edge of the surf to land on the compacted sand.

Struggling to catch her breath, she rolled to her back and stared at a lone cloud drifting toward the mountains. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes into the curve of her ears and onto the sand to mix with the salt water from the ocean. Deep wrenching sobs tore from her throat and were lost in the roar of the waves as she rolled to her side and curled into a fetal position.

A desperate need rose in her, one she’d refused to acknowledge until then. She wanted to be well, to feel joy again, to be a whole person, a mother, a wife. But she didn’t know how to move forward with her life without leaving her beautiful little baby girl behind.

CRAIG PULLED ANN’S NOTE FROM THE BATHroom mirror and frowned. Two years ago he would have showered and shaved without giving her absence a second thought, unless it was to check the time and day to see if they were free to take a shower together when she returned. Some of the most exciting and adventurous lovemaking of their marriage had taken place in their oversize shower at home.

The memory of those mornings triggered an ache deep in his loins. He missed sex with Ann. But more than the sex, he missed the closeness they had shared, the feel of her head on his shoulder, her insistence on sharing bits and pieces of the morning paper over his accompanying groans, the way she would come up behind him unexpectedly and put her arms around his waist. He missed the deep kisses and the playful ones and being told that he was loved.

Ann talked about the heartbreak of seeing the light leave Angela’s eyes. For nine months he’d lived with the memory of walking into the hospital room and seeing the light gone from her eyes. His cross to bear, the one he would carry the rest of his life, was not being with her when she needed him the most and not knowing if it would have made a difference if he’d found a way to get there sooner.

His recurring nightmares all centered around his frantic attempt to get home after Ann’s phone call telling him Angela was in the hospital. The hardest were the times he dreamed he’d made it to the hospital and then woke up to the truth.

He shouldn’t have gone. The trip easily could have been handled by someone else in the office. It was his ego that got in the way, his chance to be wined and dined by power brokers in Washington, D.C., who believed he was important enough for them to spend valuable time getting to know. The freak snowstorm caught everyone by surprise, closing the roads and airports, making it impossible to get out of the city. Desperate, he’d hired a taxi to take him to the closest city with a functioning airport. He’d pleaded and bargained with three airlines telling them he was willing to take anything going west. Thirty-two hours, three airports, and a favor from a client later, he landed in Reno.

Jeremy had colds when he was a baby. Lots of them. How could they have known Angela’s would be different? Where were the articles in the Sunday newspaper supplements that told how fast a baby’s cold could turn into a deadly infection. It wasn’t until your child died that someone told you more infants died of respiratory infections every year than died of SIDS. Where were the warning pamphlets in the doctors’ offices, the parents on talk-show circuits, the banner headlines in women’s magazines?

If he’d known … if only he’d known. He would have been there for his little girl, if not to save her, to tell her good-bye. She wouldn’t have died looking for her father, wondering why he wasn’t there. She would have known how much he loved her, how he would grieve, and how she would always own a piece of his heart. She was Daddy’s little girl. A bond formed the moment she was placed in his arms. He’d given her a T-shirt that said so. He’d promised he would break down any door closed to her because she was a girl and bought her a pink dress with ruffles.

Craig turned from the mirror, unable to look at his reflection, at the agony in his eyes over the unfulfilled promises and possibilities that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Dad?” Jeremy called.

Craig wiped his eyes with the edge of his fingers and found a smile that almost looked real. “In here.”

He came to the door. “I can’t find Mom.”

“She left a note saying she was going for a walk.”

“By herself?”

“She didn’t say.” He reached for the shaving cream. “But since she doesn’t know anyone here, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that she went alone.”

“Are you going to go find her?”

Craig leaned against the sink and looked at Jeremy. “Do you think I need to?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Why don’t we give her another fifteen minutes before we start looking? At least until I’m out of the shower.”

Jeremy hiked up his drooping pajama bottoms. “When are you leaving?”

“After breakfast.” “Tell me again when you’re coming back?”

“As soon as I can.”

“How long is that?” he persisted.

“Two days. Maybe three.”

“I thought …” He turned to go. “Never mind.”

Craig grabbed the tail of Jeremy’s shirt, pulled him back into the room, and turned him around. He sat on the edge of the tub and looked directly into his eyes. “I know I’m breaking a promise to you and your mom, and I’m sorry. But there’s no way I could have known this would come up while we were here. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone. The man I have to go back and help is the one who sent his plane to pick me up in Dallas when your sister was in the hospital. I owe him this, Jeremy.”

He waited for Jeremy to say something and when he didn’t, added, “Would it be better if I took you and your mom home with me?”

“Would we come back?”

“Yes, of course.”

He thought about it for several seconds. “You don’t have to do that. We can stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

He took hold of Jeremy’s ears and brought him forward for a kiss on the forehead. “Then get out of here so I can finish getting ready.”

Jeremy surprised them both when he threw his arms around Craig and gave him a fierce hug. “Hurry back.”

“I’ll be in the car the first minute I can get away, and I won’t stop for anything.”

“You can get a hamburger if you want.” He grinned. “And go to the bathroom. But nothing else.”

“It’s a deal.”

Jeremy left and headed for his bedroom thinking he would wait under the covers where it was warm while his father finished his shower. And then he thought about Francis and figured he was probably waiting for him and went into the kitchen to find something to give him for breakfast. He’d tried leftover pizza the day before and had to sneak back in the house to find something else because Francis didn’t go for the mushrooms and olives.

There wasn’t anything in the refrigerator or the cupboards. Except a can of salmon his dad put on crackers. He listened for the shower before using the can opener, then buried the lid deep in the trash.

As Jeremy had expected, Francis was sitting in the middle of the walkway waiting for him. As soon as he saw Jeremy, he let out a meow and came to greet him, wrapping himself around his legs, making it impossible for him to walk. Jeremy dropped the can and picked up the cat. He put his face down to let Francis head butt him a couple of times and push against his nose. All the while he was purring so hard he had to stop and swallow every once in a while or he would choke. After several swipes along Jeremy’s chin, he was ready to get down and eat.

The salmon was gone before Jeremy had a chance to settle his back against the house and take out the comb. Francis wasn’t crazy about being combed but would put up with it for a few minutes before he made a point of standing up and lying back down on his other side.

“Maybe if you let me get those knots out of you and you didn’t look so dirty, I might be able to talk my mom into letting you come home with us.” Francis settled deeper into Jeremy’s lap, kneading the front of his shirt, his purr a steady rumble.

“You wouldn’t have to sleep outside anymore. You could sleep in my bed with me. I’d even let you have one of my pillows.”

Francis tucked his head under his paws and let out a contented sigh.

“I live in a big house with a big backyard, so you would have lots of room to play. And if you came home with me, we could get you your own food and you wouldn’t have to eat leftover pizza anymore.”

Watching him fall asleep was the best part, the part that made Jeremy feel good all over. In a funny way it was a little like holding his sister again.

ANN SAT ON THE SAND WITH HER BACK TO the log she and Craig had sat on their first day at the ocean. She should get back, Craig was undoubtedly waiting for her so he could take off. But she wasn’t ready yet. She just needed a few more minutes to get herself together.

“Good morning,” a female voice offered.

Ann turned to see the old woman approaching. Only then did she realize she’d been waiting for her. She got up and brushed herself off. “Good morning.”

“Did you find them?”

“I assume you mean the otters?”

“Yes.” She rounded the log and took a minute to tuck a strand of gray hair under her hat.

“I didn’t know where to look.”

“Come with me.” She started to take off. “I’ll show you.”

“I can’t this morning,” she said with sincere regret. “I have to get back to Jeremy. Perhaps we can both come with you tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.” She sat on the log, her legs straight out in front of her. “I think Jeremy will, too.”

Ann sat next to the woman. “We’re going to be on our own for a couple of days. I’d like to do something special with Jeremy. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Goodness, I’m going to have to think about that one. Of course, just about anything you did with that young man would be special. Parents try so hard to create moments their children will remember when they’re grown, and it rarely works out the way they expected. From what I’ve seen, it’s the walks on a beach and the little discoveries and the dinner that burned because mom was caught up in a game that kids carry with them into adulthood.” She chuckled. “It’s also been my experience that most often it’s the very things we don’t want them or expect them to remember that they do.”

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t know about anything special,” Ann gently teased.

“On the contrary. If I were you and had the opportunity to spend the day with Jeremy, I know exactly where I would take him.”

Ann listened to the woman’s ideas and decided they were exactly what she wanted to do. She thanked her and got up to leave.

The woman reached out to take Ann’s arm. “Before you go …”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to talk about why you were crying?”

Ann looked at her long and hard. There was something about this woman she couldn’t explain and didn’t understand. Something special, something she was afraid would disappear if she looked too hard. “I don’t know how or why, but I think you already know.”

The woman smiled gently. “I don’t have magical powers, I simply see the sorrow in your eyes.”

“My baby girl died eight and a half months ago. I thought she had a cold and that she would get over it in a couple of days. I didn’t even call the doctor until her fever was over a hundred and two. By then it was too late to save her.” They were words as familiar as the sound of her own breath, words she’d carried with her for months, words she’d never spoken aloud. “She counted on me to take care of her. She had every right to believe I would.”

“Did Jeremy ever have a high fever?”

“Yes.”

“Then how could you have known this would be any different?”

“I’ve tried that argument. It doesn’t work.”

“Could it be because you don’t want it to?” she asked without accusation.

“What do you mean?”

“It isn’t in our nature to accept that sometimes things just happen, and there isn’t anything we can do about it. We want answers. We want to blame something or someone. It gives us some kind of perverse comfort to be able point a finger because we think it will keep us safe.”

“My mother keeps telling me God wanted Angela.”

“But you don’t believe her?”

“Why would God do something like that? There are lots and lots of babies in heaven. He didn’t need another one.” She looked into the woman’s eyes and silently pleaded with her to understand. “Every part of me–my mind, my body, my soul–knows that God didn’t have anything to do with Angela dying. It was my fault. It had to be my fault. She would be alive today if I had taken her to the doctor sooner.”

“If you could, would you exchange your life for hers?”

“Yes.” She would do so in a heartbeat, without a second thought.

“But you can’t,” she added reasonably. “You know that it’s impossible.”

Ann nodded.

“Then why do you keep trying?”

“I don’t understand.”

The woman looked up and saw Craig headed toward them. “Think about it,” she said softly. “I have to go now, but we’ll talk again.”

Ann watched her husband move across the sand toward her. She saw love and concern in his eyes and a tenderness she didn’t deserve. As always, she wondered how those feelings would change if he knew the truth.