Tender Love (14 page)

When they pulled into a rest stop midway to the beach, Alice helped Gran into the rest room, and when they came out, Eddie and Kristin had already walked Buffy, he'd been restored to his carrier and the children were racing toward the playground.

“Do we have time for them to play a bit?” Mark asked. “They're getting fidgety in the car. We needed you to keep them entertained.”

“We have plenty of time. It's only another fifty miles. I told Mrs. Guthrie we'd be there no later than five o'clock, so she knows what time to prepare dinner.”

“Gran,” Mark said, “do you want to sit in the shade, rather than to get back in the hot car? We won't stay very long.”

“I'll sit on that nice bench over there. You go ahead and watch the kids.”

As Alice and Mark moved toward the playground, she said in a low voice, “She's getting very tired.
At home, she spends a lot of her time in bed. I hope this isn't too strenuous for her.”

“You continue to amaze me, Alice—not only do you take care of me and my kids, you're as good to Gran as if she were your own grandmother, rather than a stranger. Not many people would have included her in this trip. She'll be a lot of trouble for you.”

“Oh, she'll spend most of her time with Mrs. Guthrie, who will enjoy having someone her own age.”

“We haven't discussed the cost of this vacation, and we should. I don't expect to spend the week in your family's home without paying the expenses. Someone has to pay the upkeep of the place, and I can afford to pay for our room and board.”

“The property belongs to me, and you're my guests.”

He stopped abruptly and looked sharply at her. “I thought it was a family place—same as the farm.”

Her eyes pleaded for understanding as she met his gaze. “Mark, I didn't like to deceive you, but I couldn't find any convenient time or place, nor even any reason, to tell you. My husband owned property, and when he died, I inherited it all. The farm's mine, too. John bought it so my folks would have the money to buy into the retirement home where they now live.”

He moved on slowly toward the children. “I hardly know what to say—you've indicated that you had an income and didn't need what I'm paying you, but I didn't know to what extent.”

“But
I
knew, Mark, and if I hadn't wanted to work for you, I wouldn't have come. Now that you know,
I hope it won't change our relationship. My life before I came to you has nothing to do with my nanny position.”

“I suppose not, but I feel I'm getting further and further in your debt.”

“This beach house is a liability, and my accountant has advised me to sell it, for the upkeep is expensive. Except for a few weeks in the winter when she goes to Florida, Mrs. Guthrie stays there all the time as caretaker, but she wants to retire. Since I probably won't own it next year, we might as well enjoy it before the children go back to school. Except for the food, it won't cost any more for us to be there than if the house stood empty.”

“I can at least pay for the food.”

“All right. When I check Mrs. Guthrie's food accounts, I'll tell you how much, but it isn't necessary.”

While Mark played with the children, Alice sat on a bench and watched them. He'd taken the news of her wealth better than she'd thought he would.

W
hen they left the rest stop, Alice took the lead since Mark didn't know the direction to her house. After they passed through the town of Virginia Beach, she traveled north until they reached a row of private homes fronting on the ocean. She turned into the driveway to her home, separated from the neighbors by a high board fence. The two-story frame house, its structure resembling the prow of a ship, was painted a soft brown. Decks extended along the front of the house at both levels. Floor-length windows afforded a full view of the ocean that lapped gracefully at the sandy beach. Shrubbery grew along a low seawall, and a boardwalk provided a convenient path to the beach. Benches stood along the seawall facing the ocean.

When Mark stopped behind her van, the children tumbled out of the vehicle and headed toward the ocean on a run. Alice released Buffy, and he chased after the children, falling all over himself in his ex
citement. Mark looked in wonder at the magnificence of the property.

“Kristin, Eddie,” Alice called. “Stay out of the water until your daddy or I are with you.”

“And this is yours?” Mark said, shaking his head in amazement. “I expected a cabin of some kind.”

Mrs. Guthrie, a plump but energetic senior citizen, appeared in the doorway.

“Welcome,” she called in her genial way. She came to the van and stuck her hand in the window. “You must be Gran Watson—I'm glad to have someone my own age around for company while the younger generation plays in the water. Need any help getting in the house?”

“Mark and I'll help her, Mrs. Guthrie.” Alice introduced Mark to the housekeeper, who appraised him keenly, then looked quizzically at Alice.

Mark called for the children, and they were back from the beach before they moved Gran into the house. The children had stayed out of the water, but Buffy couldn't resist taking a swim.

“Buffy can't go in the house. Put him back in his carrier until we decide where he'll be staying,” Mark directed Kristin and Mark.

“Gran will probably need to rest until dinnertime,” Alice said, “so we'll take her to her room.”

The inside of the house was spacious. Two bedrooms were located to the right of the entrance, with a living room and kitchen on the opposite side.

“Where are we going to sleep, Alice?” Kristin asked.

“Upstairs. There are three rooms on the second floor.”

When Gran was settled, Alice and the three Tan
ners went upstairs. All the rooms had windows that looked out on the Atlantic. The largest room had twin beds, and one of the smaller rooms had a double bed, the other bunk beds.

“Can I have the room with the double bed?” Kristin asked.

“That's the one I intended for you,” she said, “and Eddie and Mark can have the room with twin beds.”

“Is this where you slept when you were a little girl?” Eddie asked.

“No, my husband bought this house a few years after we were married.”

“He must have had a lot of money,” Eddie said, wide-eyed.

“Not after he bought this property,” Alice said with a laugh, and she glanced quickly at Mark, who refused to meet her eyes.

When Mark saw that she intended the room with the bunk beds for herself, he objected, “Alice, you shouldn't sleep in here. Kristin can take the smaller room,” but when he saw Kristin's smile fade, he added, “Or Eddie and I can sleep in the bunk beds.”

“Not at all,” Alice said. “You're my guests—I want you to be comfortable. Let's bring up your luggage.”

“Can we go swimming now, Daddy?” Kristin asked.

Mark looked at Alice, who checked her watch. “We have a couple of hours before Mrs. Guthrie will serve dinner. Why not?”

Mark said, “Come here, children, I want to talk to you.” He squatted and put his arms around the kids and pulled them close. “I want you to promise
me that you
will not
go to the oceanfront unless Alice or I are with you. I don't want to spoil your fun, but the ocean can be dangerous. Promise me?”

They both nodded solemnly, blue eyes serious.

“And after I go back to Richmond, I want your promise that you'll do exactly what Alice wants you to. We're in her home now, not ours, and I want you to behave like guests.”

Having extracted another promise from the children, they soon unloaded the vehicles and installed the luggage in the rooms. Buffy was housed in a small utility building behind the house.

“Are you gonna swim, Alice?” Eddie asked.

“Yes. I'm on vacation, too. Mrs. Guthrie does all the work here. She won't let me help—she likes to spoil me.”

“Just like you do us?”

Alice ruffled Eddie's curls. “I don't spoil you.” Before she closed the door into her room to change into a swimsuit, she said, “I put sunscreen in your rooms—don't forget to put a lot on. We don't want a sunburn to ruin your fun.”

“I'll look out for the kids while I'm here, Alice, so you can take a break.”

“Good enough.” She changed into a swimsuit and put on a terry robe, a pair of sandals, and let her hair fall loosely over her shoulders. The Tanners were already playing in the water when she went down. She paused for a moment.

“I'm going to walk down the beach. There's about two miles of beachfront that's privately owned, but by reciprocal agreement, each home owner and guests have the privilege of walking along the water edge, but we swim on our own property. If you want
to walk, that'll be fine. When you've finished playing in the water, there's a shower room back of the kitchen where you can wash off the salt water.”

Alice walked to the end of the private beach area, relishing the cool ocean breeze that blew through her hair. She stopped in front of the Hazard home, knowing that the Hazards were spending the summer in Europe, and that the house was closed. She spread her robe on the sand, applied sunscreen lavishly to her body, put on her sunglasses and lay down on the terry robe.

Her body relaxed, but her mind didn't, for she remembered the last time she'd come to the beach house. It was two years ago when John had finally accepted the fact that his illness was terminal. On the boardwalk that had been built for his convenience, she'd pushed him down to the beach in his wheelchair, and he'd been in an advisory mood.

“Alice,” John had said, “we need to have a talk about what you'll do when I die.”

After his illness, their marriage had developed into a daughter-father relationship.

“Oh, there's no need to think about that now,” Alice had protested, wanting to avoid the inevitable as long as possible, for while she didn't have any romantic love for John, she did respect him highly. He'd been more influential in guiding her than her own father had been.

“You
must
give some consideration to what you'll do after I'm gone. When we return to Alexandria, I'll go over every aspect of my financial situation with you, so you'll understand it thoroughly, and I expect you to sit in with me on every appointment I have with my accountant from now on. Even before
I die, the doctors tell me that I may be incapable of handling my business affairs.”

And John had done that. Although he advised her to leave matters in the hands of the accountant he'd employed for several years, she understood John's financial status, and the last few months of his life she'd made decisions that he was unable to make.

After he'd finished discussing his finances, with the incoming tide coming closer to their feet, John had continued, “And, Alice, I want you to remarry. You've been all that I've wanted in a wife, but I've always felt guilty that I asked you to marry me, and that I wouldn't give you a child, simply because I was too old to start parenting again.”

“It didn't matter, John.”

“You should have had children, for you would make a wonderful mother, but perhaps it still isn't too late. I can't live much longer, and I hope you'll find someone nearer your own age to love you.”

Alice didn't answer him, for she was sniffling, and John laid his hand on her bowed head. He hadn't mentioned the subject again, but it was good to know that she had John's blessing if she ever had the opportunity to marry Mark.

But if she did marry him—would she always have to take second place to his children? Would she become resentful of them? By the look in Mark's eyes when she started down the beach, she knew he wanted to go with her, but he had to stay with Kristin and Eddie, and while she approved that, still it gave her a lonesome feeling to know that the three of them were a mile down the coast having a good time, while she was lying on the sand alone.

Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself, she chided her
self, and turned over on her stomach and went to sleep.

Alice and Mark didn't have any time alone before he returned to Richmond the next day, but Mark insisted that Alice join him and the children as they spent the morning building a sand castle. Alice did so, but she believed that Kristin resented her presence. When Kristin and Eddie were alone with Alice, the girl was happy and carefree, but was it Alice's imagination that Kristin didn't want her to be around Mark? Perhaps the child sensed the attraction between them, and it wasn't surprising. When she and Mark were together, and especially if their hands touched, the emotional gravity was so powerful between them that Alice couldn't understand how anyone wouldn't detect it.

Mark may also have understood the problem Kristin was having, for he remained completely impersonal to Alice during the rest of the day, and she didn't even receive any of the mental messages that he often conveyed with his eyes.

After he left, Kristin joined Alice and Eddie when they walked along the beach, picking up shells and other treasures they wanted to take back to Richmond.

When bedtime came, Eddie said, “Now that Daddy's gone, you can sleep in my room.”

Alice sat on the side of his bed and pulled him beside her. He'd just gotten out of the shower, and his hair was damp, his skin rosy, and he smelled of soap and shampoo. It was such a pleasure to feel flesh over his ribs and to know that he wasn't the skinny kid he had been.

“Sleeping in this room alone isn't any different
than when you sleep in your room at home. There's a light in the hall, and I'll leave my door open. You try to go to sleep, and if you get too afraid, I'll come in and sit on your bed until you are asleep. If a boy's big enough to go to kindergarten, he can sleep in a room alone.”

He nodded, his big blue eyes serious. “Okay, I'll do it. Daddy will be proud of me.”

“Your daddy is always proud of you whether you're a big boy or not, and so am I.” Alice bent over and kissed his forehead.

 

Alice didn't hear anything out of either of the children all night, and she, too, slept soundly, but she awakened before daylight. Moving quietly, she put on a heavy robe and slippers, picked up her Bible, and went downstairs to sit on the deck. Facing the ocean, she saw morning dawn—the sun looked like a ball of fire as it slowly came into view over the horizon.

This had always been one of her favorite times at the beach. Alice turned in the Bible to Psalm 139, feeling as close to God as the psalmist must have been when he'd worshiped his Creator. “‘Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?… If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast.'”

The Bible lay open on her lap, but she read no more. Alice had never been more conscious of God's protective hand on her than she was right now. Since that day, when as a child, she'd accepted God as her heavenly father and Christ as her Savior, her life had been orchestrated by God. Ashamed that she some
times had doubts about her future, she was thankful for moments such as this one when she praised God for the assurance that no matter where she was or under what circumstances, she was never out of the will of God.

She smelled coffee, so she knew that Mrs. Guthrie was out of bed. She wasn't surprised when the door opened behind her, and the housekeeper came out on the deck carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

“Couldn't sleep, huh?”

“Oh, I slept well,” Alice said, “but I've had enough sleep.” She sipped the hot coffee. “I'd forgotten how peaceful it is down here. I should have spent more time in this house, but my life has been in limbo since John died, and I haven't done much of anything.”

“You're busy enough now.”

Alice laughed lowly. “I don't have a spare minute, but I've never been so happy, either.”

“You've adopted a nice family.”

“They are nice, aren't they? I'm very fond of them, and when I have to leave their home, it will be heartbreaking. Betty St. Claire, head of the nanny agency, warned me of this when I took the job. I should have known better than to let my heart get involved with those two kids.”

“Maybe you won't ever have to leave them,” Mrs. Guthrie said, with an appraising look at Alice. “Are you sure your heart isn't involved with their father, too?”

Alice refrained from looking at Mrs. Guthrie. “My position in the Tanner home is as a nanny and housekeeper.”

“I'm not exactly blind, you know. Besides, your
mother filled me in on the situation last week, so I was speculating before you came.”

“I should have known Mom would pressure you to advise me. She doesn't approve of my present position.”

“Oh, I'm on your side, no matter what you do. You and John have been mighty good to me.”

Alice reached over and squeezed Mrs. Guthrie's hand. “Thanks.”

“But I repeat—I don't see why you ever need to leave. From what Gran tells me, you're the homemaker and mother those kids have never had. She's hinted that her granddaughter wasn't too effective as a homemaker even before her illness.”