to the beach.
She slogged out from under the covers and woke herself up in the shower. She pulled a pair of shorts and a navy-blue-and-white striped T-shirt over her white bikini, and drove to Amanda’s temporary house. Ellie’s little blue car was already in the driveway. She pushed out into the hot Miami day and walked around back to the kitchen door.
“Mrs. Harper!” Amanda’s three-year-old daughter Joy bounced with happiness as Liz entered and she froze.
Liz had been part of the welcoming committee when Amanda and her children had arrived at the house, but until this very second she hadn’t made the connection that Joy was about the age her child would have been.
Her child.
Her heart splintered. She should have a child right now. But she didn’t. She’d lost her baby. Lost her marriage. Lost everything in what seemed like the blink of an eye.
Swallowing hard, she got rid of the lump in her throat. The barrage of self-pity that assailed her wasn’t just unexpected; it was unwanted. She knew spending so much time with Cain had caused her to make the connection between her baby and Joy. But that didn’t mean she had to wallow in it. Her miscarriage had been three years ago. She’d had therapy. She might long for that child with every fiber of her being, but, out of necessity, she’d moved on.
Amanda, a tall redhead with big blue eyes, corrected her daughter. “It’s Ms. Harper, not Mrs.”
“That’s okay,” Liz said walking into the kitchen, knowing she had to push through this. If she was going to work in the same city as her ex, she might not be able to avoid him. She most definitely couldn’t avoid all children the same age her child would have been. Being in contact with both might be a new phase of her recovery.
She could handle this. She would handle this.
“Smells great in here.”
“I made French toast,” Ellie said, standing at the stove. “Want some?”
“No. We’re late.” She peeked into the picnic basket she’d instructed Ellie to bring. “When we get to the beach, I’ll just eat some of the fruit you packed.”
“Okay.” Ellie removed her apron and hung it in the pantry. “Then we’re ready to go.”
Amanda turned to the hall. “I’ll get Billy.”
Billy was a sixteen-year-old who deserted them the second the two cars they drove to the beach stopped in the public parking lot. Obviously expecting his desertion, Amanda waved at his back as he ran to a crowd of kids his own age playing volleyball.
Amanda, Ellie and Liz spent the next hours building a sand castle with Joy who was thrilled with all the attention. Around four o’clock, Ellie and Amanda left the sand to set up a picnic under their umbrella.
Joy smiled up at Liz. “Do you like sand?”
She gazed down at the adorable cherub. The wind tossed her thin blond locks. Her blue eyes sparkled. Now that Liz was over the shock of realizing Joy and her baby would have been close to the same age, she felt normal again. Strong. Accepting of that particular sadness in her life. That was the difference between her and Cain. She’d dealt with her loss. She hadn’t let it turn her into someone who couldn’t connect with people.
“I love the beach. I’m happy to have someone to share it with.”
Joy nodded enthusiastically. “Me, too!”
They ate the sandwiches and fruit Ellie had packed for dinner, then Joy fell asleep under the umbrella. Obviously relaxed and happy, Amanda lay beside her daughter and closed her eyes, too.
“So what did you do yesterday?” Ellie singsonged in the voice that told Liz she knew something out of the ordinary had happened the day before.
Liz peered over at Ellie. Did the woman have a sixth sense about everything? “Not much.”
“Oh, come on. You never take a day off. I know something happened.”
Liz grabbed the bottle of sunscreen and put her attention to applying it. Knowing Ellie wouldn’t let her alone unless she told her something, she said, “I was taking care of a sick friend.”
Ellie nudged her playfully. “So? Who was this friend?”
“Just a friend.”
“A man!”
“I said nothing about a man.”
Ellie laughed. “You didn’t need to. The fact that you won’t give me a name or elaborate proves I’m right.”
How could she argue with that?
Ellie squeezed her shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Ellie laughed gaily. “Let’s see. You not only took a day off, but you were with a man and I’m not supposed to make a big deal out of it?”
“No, you’re not. Because I’m never going to see him again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know.”
“Okay, then.” Ellie closed her eyes and her face scrunched comically.
“What are you doing?”
“Wishing that you’d see him again.”
“You might not want to do that.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
“The man was my ex.”
Ellie’s eyes popped open. “Oh, Liz! Damn it.
You should have told me that before I wished. You know how powerful my wishes can be.”
“That’s why I told you now. You need to take it back.”
“I can’t.”
“Yeah, well, you’d better or you’re going to break your record of wishes granted. Because I’m not going to see him again.”
Stupidly, that made her sad. She’d loved Cain with her whole heart and soul, but his brother had died and he’d gone into his shell. She’d tried to hang in there with him, to be there when he reached the point that he could work through his pain and withdrawal, but he never had. And then one day she realized she was pregnant. She knew in her heart that Cain wasn’t ready for a child, so she’d waited a few weeks, hoping that if she were further along the pregnancy would seem more real to him. Maybe even be a cause for joy.
But she’d miscarried before she’d had a chance to tell him and suddenly she was the one unable to function. She knew she needed help. At the very least she needed someone to talk to. She couldn’t talk to Cain. She wouldn’t have been able to handle it if he had dismissed the loss of the little life so precious to her. So she’d gone. Their marriage had been in shambles anyway. The miscarriage simply pointed out what
