Not “what a pretty baby” or “what is her name?” Meredith tamped down the hurt as the woman walked her down a hallway and led her to a set of double doors. Meredith used the plastic key card and let herself in. The hotel employee set her belongings just inside. “Have a nice stay.”
“Thank you.” Meredith closed the door and locked it. Her first impression was that the suite was as large as her apartment at home, but far more elegantly furnished.
Anna was fussing again, so without taking time to investigate the rooms, she hurried into the bedroom, placed the baby on the king-sized bed and changed her diaper. Then Meredith unbuttoned her shirt, settled in a comfortable overstuffed chair and placed Anna at her breast.
Dark eyes looked at her trustingly, smooth dark skin and lips a vivid contrast against Meredith’s scarred white breast. She touched her baby’s face and smiled. The drive had been beautiful and relaxing, but she was tired from packing and planning and following directions. She kicked off her shoes and propped her feet on a matching ottoman.
The past few months had been tension-filled and emotionally draining. No, the past couple of years had been tension-filled and emotionally draining. But the recent months had been worse, rife with her mother’s constant disapproval and pressuring. Every time Meredith thought about her mother’s reactions, renewed hurt knifed through her heart. Breathing deeply, she worked to fight back her anger before her tension seeped through to the baby in her arms.
Meredith’s mother had wanted her to give up Anna for adoption. Meredith wouldn’t hear of it. She’d loved her baby from conception. She’d adored her on sight and cherished her more every day since.
But Veronica was embarrassed. She’d been mortified when her daughter gave birth to an African-American child. She wanted the world to know Anna’s birth was not by choice or by natural means and she threatened at every opportunity to feed the information about the mistake made by Children’s Connection to the media in hopes of having the public’s sympathy.
Veronica’s obvious shame hurt Meredith more than she could say. She’d been surprised when she’d seen her baby, yes, of course. But ashamed? Certainly not. She was tired of fighting her mother on every front and constantly heading off her confrontations and insistence that Meredith sue Children’s Connection. This was her mother! She should accept Meredith’s decisions and love her grandchild.
Tears stung her eyelids and she determinedly blinked them away. She needed this time away from everything—especially from Veronica. She craved privacy. She was looking forward to peace and quiet, time alone with Anna without pressure or censure.
For a few blessed weeks, she wouldn’t have to cook or clean; she’d have attendants to help tote and carry. She could see the local sights at her leisure and return here whenever she wanted to put her feet up and do nothing.
She glanced around the elegantly appointed room. This was just the getaway she needed.
Two
The morning news had predicted temperatures in the sixties and Meredith was glad for the unusual warmth. Shortly after her arrival the day before she had discovered a place nearby to rent all types of beach equipment, and she was eager to try out her canvas chair and umbrella.
The sand was deliciously warm from the sun, and though she knew the water was freezing cold, a few die-hard surfers in wet suits rode the waves onto the beach.
Anna slept peacefully on a thick blanket under the umbrella, and by late morning Meredith was a third of the way through a mystery novel she’d been wanting to read. She poured herself hot decaf coffee from the thermos, sipped leisurely and her eyes grew heavy.
“I think her baby’s sleeping.”
“She’s sleeping, too, Lamond. Don’t bother them.”
“I’m not bothering them, I’m just lookin’.”
The soft voices brought her out of her restful state, and she opened her eyes to find two handsome young black boys in jeans and T-shirts peering at Anna.
“Hi,” she said.
The oldest boy glanced at her with eyes widened in surprise, but the younger one gave her a friendly smile. “Hi. That your baby?”
“Yes. Her name’s Anna. I’m Meredith.”
“I’m Lamond and I’m four.” He held up the appropriate number of fingers. “This is my big brother, Jonah.” He’s seven.
“Nice to meet you both.”
“Can your baby swim?”
With a smile, Meredith shook her head. “Not yet.”
“I saw babies on TV what could swim,” Lamond said matter-of-factly. “The moms and dads just put ’em in. They had a camera underneath the water so you could see ’em with their little faces all scrunched up.” He demonstrated and giggled. “It was cool.”
“It sounds cool,” she replied. “I’ve heard of teaching infants to swim.”
Taking a step back, he pointed toward the ocean. “Maybe you could put her in the water and see if she can do it,” he suggested.
“I’m pretty sure you’d have to teach a baby in a heated pool,” she replied with a grin. “The ocean’s too cold.”
“It’s too cold for me,” Jonah said with a shudder.
“Not for me,” Lamond said, puffing his chest out. “I’m tough. My dad says so.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
“Your baby’s real pretty,” he said. “Can I look at her up close?”
“Sure.” Meredith got out of her chair and knelt beside the baby, peeling back the blanket that protected her cheek from the elements.
Anna’s rosy lips puckered and she made an instinctive little sucking motion.
“Aw.” Lamond chuckled. “That’s so cute.”
Meredith smiled at the child who had captured her heart in record time. She thought everything Anna did was darling, too.
“D’you live around here?” Jonah asked.
“No, we’re vacationing.”
“Us, too,” he replied. “We’re staying at the Lighthouse Inn, but the only lighthouse is on the sign.”
“There’s a painting in the foyer,” she told him. “We’re staying there, too.”
“We’re going to see a real lighthouse,” Lamond added.
“That sounds like fun.”
“Are you boys bothering the lady?” The rich timbre of a male voice interrupted their discussion.
Both boys turned toward the tall man who had approached and bent to peer under the umbrella.
“We’re
