First and Again (17 page)

Finally, it was their turn. They reached the counter and with her help, Leslie placed her order for a Happy Meal. Bridget placed her order as well and then released Leslie’s hand to dig her money from her purse.

“Stay right here, Leslie. I’m going to pay for this and we’ll get our lunch right away.”

Leslie nodded, staring at some children in the next line. Bridget pulled out her wallet, digging through her change purse for money. She hadn’t planned to eat lunch in the city so she hadn’t brought any extra cash with her. But Leslie needed to eat. She hoped she had enough.

She gave a relieved sigh when she found a ten-dollar bill. She handed the young clerk the cash and turned to Leslie.

“Your Happy Meal’s coming...”

She was gone.

Panic settled like a rock in her stomach. She quickly scanned the restaurant, searching for some sign of the little girl, but there was none.

Leaving their lunch on the counter, she quickly searched the restaurant, calling Leslie’s name and peering under tables. Her panic mounted. What if something had happened to her? God help her, what if someone had taken Leslie?

She checked the women’s bathroom, going in each stall in case Leslie was hiding inside. She even went inside the men’s bathroom, scaring off a group of boys. But Leslie was nowhere in sight.

She wanted to cry, or scream, or both, but she knew she had to stay calm and think. Where would Leslie go? She’d been watching a group of kids in the next line. She remembered that one of the kids was wearing a bright orange jacket. She ran back into the restaurant to check for the group of kids, but there was no kid with a bright orange jacket to be seen. Oh God, what now?

Think
,
Bridget
,
think!

They must have taken their food to go. She ran to the exit and scanned the parking lot, checking one area without any success, and then racing between the cars to reach the parking lot on the other side of the building. She almost collapsed in relief when she saw the kid with the orange jacket. Following closely behind him was Leslie.

“Leslie!”

She turned to her and waved. Bridget raced toward her, no longer able to hold back her tears. When she reached her, she grabbed her in a fierce hug.

“Don’t ever, ever take off like that again!”

Leslie stared at her. “I was with the kids. They gave me French fries.”

“Honey, you never go away with people you don’t know. These kids were nice, but what if they weren’t? What if they hurt you? What if I couldn’t find you? How would you get home? Do you know how upset your dad would be if you didn’t come home?”

Comprehension dawned on Leslie’s face. “Daddy would be sad. He told me so.” She looked down at her shoes. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes, a little,” she admitted. “Mostly I was scared. I’d be sad too if you didn’t come home.”

Her face crumpled into tears. “I’m sorry.”

She leaned over to embrace the child, her own emotions unsteady. “I know you are, baby. Just promise me you won’t wander off again.”

“I promise,” she said wiping her eyes.

Bridget found a tissue in her purse and wiped Leslie’s teary eyes and runny nose. Then she took her firmly by the hand and led her back into the restaurant, although her own appetite had completely fled.

“We’ll have our lunch now and then we’ll finish my business in the city. And you’ll stay close beside me all afternoon, right?”

Leslie nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

She dredged up a shaky smile. “Good. Let’s go eat.”

As she choked down her cheeseburger, she vowed to watch Leslie like a hawk the rest of the afternoon. The little girl was simply too trusting, and too unaware of the dangers. Bridget couldn’t help thinking that if Leslie had been taught some of the common safety rules that most other kids were expected to learn, they wouldn’t have had to go through this frightening experience. By sheltering her at home and at the small town school in Paradise, Jack was ensuring his daughter never learned how to protect herself and live in the world. He wasn’t always going to be around to save her.

How did she convince him to allow Leslie to make a few small mistakes now so that she didn’t make a big mistake later?

* * *

The next day was Sunday, Bridget’s one day off. She treated herself to a leisurely morning, having worked late in the bar the night before. After cooking a brunch of French toast with strawberries for herself, Mavis and Rebecca, she dressed and headed for the town’s small library. Luckily it was open for a few hours on Sunday afternoons.

Yesterday had been revealing. Despite what had happened at McDonald’s, she’d enjoyed having Leslie with her. Things had gone much better in the afternoon. Realizing how quickly she could disappear, she’d been hyper-vigilant, holding on to her hand every minute. Even with Leslie as a distraction, she’d managed to get all the equipment she’d wanted and still had time to visit a couple of food wholesalers and make some purchases for the three new catering jobs she and Tina had lined up.

But by the end of the day her belief that Leslie needed to learn some basic life skills had been stronger than ever.

She entered the small library and went straight to the computers. Since she no longer had a computer or an internet hookup of her own, the library was the only place she could get on the information highway.

She brought up a search engine and did some research on Down syndrome. Several sites came up. She read the information with interest. Down syndrome, or Trisomy 21, was a genetic condition caused by an extra twenty-first chromosome, giving people with Down syndrome forty-seven chromosomes instead of forty-six. Down syndrome was present in all cultures and had a specific set of physical characteristics, such as short stature, an almond shape to the eyes, poor muscle tone and a protruding tongue. People with Down syndrome tended to have lower than average cognitive abilities, and were at risk for several health problems, including congenital heart defects. She winced as she read about the defect that had affected Leslie.

She eagerly read on. Every site she visited emphasized that no two people affected by Down syndrome were the same. Every person had to be individually evaluated to decide what was best for them. Children with Down syndrome couldn’t be compared to siblings or other so-called normal children, or even to other children with Down syndrome. Often milestones such as walking and talking were delayed, making a timetable for such achievements impossible to predict. Some things about Down syndrome couldn’t be changed, but with good medical care, support from the family and the right kind of education, a child with Down syndrome could have a good quality of life.

A link to a local site came up and she clicked on it. It was the website of a school for mentally disabled children in Bismarck called Blackwood Academy that had programs designed specifically for children with Down syndrome. According to the website, their aim was to help children reach their potential, teaching academics along with life skills that would make them more self-sufficient. The school had day students and weekend programs, but also functioned as a boarding school with modern dormitories and one den mother for every five students. Bridget sent them an email asking for more information to be sent to her in the mail.

A school like Blackwood Academy might be just what Leslie, and Jack, needed.

Chapter Sixteen

The following Monday, Bridget glanced at her watch as she sat in her sister’s hair salon: two forty-five. She needed to get back to the bar before the afternoon coffee crowd arrived. She drained the last dregs from her mug.

“Thanks for inviting me for coffee, but I’d better get back to work.”

“Wait! You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

“Yeah, actually I do. It gets pretty busy in the afternoon. Mom will need a hand.”

“You can’t go yet,” Celia said urgently. “I need a recipe for a fresh artichoke appetizer. Do you know one off the top of your head?”

She stared at her sister. “Well, yeah, I know a few recipes, but are you sure you want to deal with artichokes? They’re kind of time consuming and finicky to prepare.”

“I can handle it.”

“Seriously?” It didn’t seem like a dish her down-to-earth, practical sister would bother with.

“Yes, I seriously want to make artichokes,” Celia said, folding her arms across her chest, and looking as if she’d been insulted. “You’re not the only one in the family who can cook, you know. I’m having a party for Gavin’s birthday and I’d like to do something special.” She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from her desk. “Here, write it down.”

“Right now?”

“No time like the present.”

“Okay. How about artichokes with chipotle mayonnaise?”

“Sounds great.”

She sighed and began to write the recipe from memory. She wasn’t sure what the rush was, considering Gavin’s birthday wasn’t for another couple of months.

It took her several minutes to write the list of ingredients and all the instructions. Finally she handed the paper and pen to Celia.

“How about a shrimp appetizer? Gavin loves shrimp.” She handed Bridget another piece of paper.

She sighed and took the paper and pen once more. “Okay, but if Mom chews me out for being late, I’m telling on you.”

“I’ll take that chance.”

She wrote down a recipe for stuffed butterfly shrimp that she’d made hundreds of times and was sure Gavin would like. After scribbling the last word, she got to her feet.

“I really have to get going.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Don’t you have a business to run?”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s kind of dead this afternoon and I could use some exercise. Besides, I haven’t seen Mom in a couple of days.”

“Okay. Suit yourself.”

Celia locked up her shop and fell into step beside her. They made small talk on the short walk to the bar, mostly about the early cold snap that had gripped the state. When they reached the motel, the parking lot was overflowing with cars.

“Wow, it looks like a full house this afternoon,” Bridget said. “Apparently you’re not the only one who decided to take the afternoon off.”

“So it seems.” Celia held the door for her. “After you, my dear.”

She stepped through the threshold. “Why, thank—”

“Surprise!”

Her heart nearly leaped from her chest. The bar was packed with everyone she knew, and several she didn’t know, and all of them were smiling and waving at her. What on earth were they all doing here?

“What’s going on?”

Tina stepped forward wearing a New Year’s Eve party hat and a noisemaker. “I thought the birth of our new business was cause for celebration.” She raised a glass of something that looked like champagne. “Here’s to our new business. May it ever be profitable and happy. And may our friendship last even longer than our business.”

“Hear, hear.”

Mavis handed her a glass and Bridget took a sip, confirming that it was indeed champagne, the good stuff, if she was any judge.

“Did you buy this?” she asked in surprise.

“Of course,” Mavis said with a smile. “It is a special occasion, after all. It’s not every day we get a new business in Paradise.”

“Make way, coming through!”

The crowd parted to allow Gladys Clark to push a trolley carrying an enormous cake into the room. Beside the trolley, Don pushed Martha Kowalchuk in her wheelchair. When they got closer Bridget could see that the cake was decorated with frosting depictions of apple pies, with the words “To the best caterers in Paradise” written in flowing icing script.

“Did you two make this cake?” she asked.

“We sure did,” Martha said proudly. “Gladys picked me up at the home right after breakfast this morning and took me out to the ranch. Isn’t she a beauty?”

She glanced from the cake to the two beaming women. She swallowed and blinked away tears, nearly overcome with emotion. “She’s the most beautiful cake I’ve ever seen.” She stooped to give the tiny lady a hug. “Thank you, Martha.”

“Speech, speech!”

“Come on, Bridget. Why don’t you say a few words?” Tina urged.

“I’m not really good at that kind of thing.”

“Don’t worry, Bridge,” Tina said with a smile. “You’re among friends.”

She turned to look at the crowd. Her mother and Celia stood on her left along with Tina and Gavin and Tina’s husband Jerry. On her right Martha and Gladys stood proudly with their enormous cake. Down the middle she saw Don and George and all the old boys from coffee row, along with Martha’s card-playing buddies, Alma, Elsie and Emma. Along the back row she saw the high school principal, Gloria Stewart and beside her, Jack. He lifted his glass in one hand and gave her a thumbs-up with the other.

They’d all come here today because of her?

For the first time in her life, Bridget knew Paradise was home. The people here supported her and her dreams and wanted her to succeed. They cared about what happened to her and Rebecca. They loved her.

And she loved them. She wanted to stay in Paradise. She wanted to grow her business and be part of the community. She wanted to grow her friendships and put down roots. It had taken her years to figure it out, but Paradise was her home.

She covered her mouth when a sob escaped. Tina put her arm around her in a silent gesture of support. She wiped her tears with the pad of her thumb.

“You’re right, Tina. I am among friends.”

* * *

A few days later, Bridget arrived at Jack’s ranch to collect Rebecca. Jack had picked up both girls after school so they could ride. This late in November, with darkness falling only a couple of hours after the school day finished, every moment counted.

It was well after six when she arrived. Jack opened the door to her knock and she immediately smelled something delicious. Her stomach rumbled in response

“Come on in,” he said, pulling her by the hand. “Have you eaten? Gladys made us fried chicken. There’s plenty.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she handed him her coat. “I’m starved.”

He set a place for her at the table and the four of them ate together. Rebecca told them about her day at school. She noted that Rebecca always seemed to talk more about what was going on in her life when Jack was around. Leslie appeared uncharacteristically subdued and she wondered at the reason. Was Leslie upset because Bridget had reprimanded her after she’d wandered off the other day in the city?

After they finished eating, she and Jack cleaned the dishes while Rebecca did her homework at the kitchen table. Leslie sat quietly beside Rebecca and doodled in her coloring book, making listless scribblings with her wax crayons. Bridget missed the little songs she usually hummed to herself. Jack made coffee and they took it into the family room.

“I want to thank you for taking Leslie with you to the city the other day. It’s been all she’s talked about.”

“We had fun.” She decided that Jack didn’t need to know she’d nearly lost his daughter at McDonald’s. “She seems very quiet tonight. Is she all right?”

“Oh sure, she’s fine. She might be coming down with a bit of a cold. I’ll keep an eye on her.” He took her hand. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for her.”

“Jack.” She covered his hand with hers. “I told you before, it’s no hardship for me care for Leslie. She’s a wonderful child.”

“Not everyone feels that way, not even her own mother.” Though his eyes were downcast, she couldn’t miss the bitterness in his voice.

“Celia told me she decided to leave after Leslie was born,” she said carefully.

“Yes.” For a moment he was silent and she thought he would say nothing more. Then he cleared his throat and began to speak, all the while staring at his shoes.

“She said she didn’t want a damaged child.” He laughed, the sound bitter. “She acted as if Leslie was a malfunctioning appliance she could take back to the store and get her money back. Unfortunately, children don’t come with guarantees.”

“That must have been so hard for you,” she said when he grew quiet again.

“Yeah.” He glanced briefly at her. “The worst was when they told me Leslie had to have heart surgery. She was only a few days old and they had to cut her open.”

She could only imagine how awful that must have been. She didn’t know how she would have coped if Rebecca had been sick like that.

“I had all these plans for my kid,” he said. “I built this fantasy in my head about what my child would be like, what he or she would do. I thought if it was a boy I’d take him fishing in the summer and we’d ride horses together. I’d teach him how to skate and he’d play hockey. Or if it was a girl, she’d be a ballerina. Everyone would tell me how pretty she was and how talented.”

He paused and clasped his hands together. “When Leslie was born, all those dreams disappeared. All I wanted was for my child to survive. And now I want her to be happy, to be everything she can be.”

“The school here in Paradise,” she said cautiously, “is it giving her everything she needs? It’s a pretty small school with a limited budget. I’ve heard of more specialized schools in the city that have programs for kids with Down syndrome.”

He began shaking his head even before she finished speaking, his face set in stubborn lines. “Leslie has everything she needs right here. A family that loves her is the most important thing for her.”

She thought of arguing the point. She considered telling him about the day and weekend programs and summer camps she’d discovered in her internet search. She wasn’t asking him to send Leslie away to some institution; she just wanted her to learn to be more self-confident and reliant. She could meet other kids like her, learn new skills and have a lot of fun. But Jack obviously didn’t want to hear about special programs, at least not today.

“What about teaching Leslie to ride on her own, without someone leading her pony and steadying her in the saddle? She’d be thrilled to ride Molly by herself.”

Again he shook his head. “Leslie’s not coordinated enough to ride on her own. I know what’s best for my daughter.”

Bridget sighed in frustration. He didn’t want to hear about alternatives for Leslie, at least not from her. It wasn’t like she had any say in his daughter’s upbringing.

After a moment of silence, he got to his feet and gathered their empty coffee cups.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off as needing or wanting pity. And I certainly don’t mean to imply that I’m sorry about Leslie. I’m proud of my daughter.” His expression dared her to say otherwise.

She rose as well. “You should be. She’s a great kid.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you saying that.”

“Why? It’s just the truth.”

He put his free hand on her waist and pulled her close. His eyes grew hot with desire as he looked into her face. She shivered. Just one touch from him caused a firestorm of longing inside her heart, and her body. He touched his lips to hers, and she stepped closer, pressing herself against him.

“Mom?”

They broke apart immediately at the sound of Rebecca’s voice. She stood in the doorway of the family room, a look of confusion on her face.

“I finished my homework.”

“Okay, honey. Pack up your things and we’ll get ready to go home.” She wondered how much Rebecca had seen.

“Okay.” With one last worried look at them, Rebecca turned and went back into the kitchen.

“She doesn’t know about us, does she?” Jack said.

“That we slept together? That’s hardly something I’m going to share with my fifteen-year-old.”

“You know what I mean. Rebecca believes you and her dad will get back together if you move back to San Francisco. Actually, she said ‘when’ you move to San Francisco.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “Are you still planning to go back?”

She thought about skating around the truth and then decided that he deserved an honest answer. “That was our original intention. We were just going to stay here long enough for me to get back on my feet financially. It was going to be temporary because that was the only way I could convince Rebecca to move. And quite honestly I thought I’d go insane after a few months in Paradise. But now...”

“But now what?”

“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here. For the first time, I have a real relationship with my sister and I don’t want to lose that. I’m excited about the business Tina and I just started. And then there’s you.”

“You know I can’t make you any promises,” he warned.

He’d made that abundantly clear from the beginning. “I know. But I think I’d like to enjoy the ride for a while.”

He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the dimly lit room. “Yeah, I think I’d like that too.”

“I’d better get Rebecca home.”

He took her hand before she could leave. “Gladys is off tomorrow morning and the girls are at school. Can you slip away from the bar for a couple of hours?”

She nodded, her heart racing. It was the first time he’d asked her to come to his house, just for him. It felt like they’d both come to a momentous decision. “I’ll be here around ten.”

A few minutes later, she and Rebecca were in the car. She’d expected Rebecca to pummel her with questions about her relationship with Jack on the drive home. But Rebecca remained silent, which was much worse. She didn’t want her daughter to clam up again, not when she’d finally started opening up.

Did Rebecca honestly think she and Ben would get back together again? It was probably her fault that she clung to this illusion. She’d done everything she could to shield her from learning the truth about her father’s affair and his lack of interest in either of them. In the last year, she’d gone so far as to buy gifts for Rebecca and pretend they’d come from Ben, just so she wouldn’t think he’d forgotten her.