Together With You (15 page)

Penny stared wide-eyed as the wave crested and turned to foam. Just like Carly said, an inch of cold water washed over Penny's feet, and she did a crazy dance. With Carly holding her hand, she pretended to be a mermaid and imagined her mommy swimming with her like they used to do in the pool. Penny felt her mommy's love in her heart, but she still couldn't see her. She was sad until she remembered Dr. Tremaine's magic car and how it took him back to the past. Maybe he could take her to find her mommy.

Suddenly hopeful, she stomped her feet on the wet sand. The water was far away now, so she pulled away from Carly and started to twirl. God and Mommy were in the clouds, and Carly was going to paint the clouds in her room. Laughing, Penny sang out to her mommy and the Daddy in heaven, whom she decided to call Dr. God.

R
yan fetched the Sunday
Los Angeles Times
off the porch and took it to his office. Reading it was a lifelong habit, something he enjoyed, but today nothing held his interest. He couldn't stop listening for Carly's car to leave the driveway. When it finally did, he left the paper on the floor in a heap and pulled the SOS list out from under the desk mat. Maybe doing something with his sons would get his mind off Carly.

He hadn't updated the list since the awful night at her apartment, so he picked up a pen and checked off
Take Penny to the park
and
Meet Kyle's girlfriend and her parents
, things he'd accomplished before the tragedy. He also crossed off
Take Eric to an aquarium shop.
He'd squeezed that in after the shark fight with Penny. A ten-gallon fresh-water tank now sat in Eric's room and was teeming with a variety of tetras.

With Penny occupied, Ryan wanted to do something special for the boys. His eyes locked on No. 15:
Have breakfast at Minnie's Pancake House,
a place they'd liked when they were younger.

Before going upstairs, he detoured to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. In spite of the gurgle of the Keurig, the kitchen was
too quiet, a reminder of the years he sipped his morning caffeine alone or with a woman who had spent the night. He didn't indulge in one-night stands, but he had dated a lot. He hadn't thought much about it until Penny came into his daily life, then the boys, and now Carly.

Ryan went upstairs to ask the boys about breakfast. Kyle was in the bathroom, so he knocked on Eric's door first.

“Come in,” Eric called.

Ryan opened the door, saw a sleepy boy, and recalled the three-year-old who cuddled with a stuffed dinosaur. While Eric yawned, Ryan told him about Carly and Penny going to the beach. “So it's just us guys. How about breakfast at Minnie's?”

When Eric groaned, the pancake house with its signature children's menu seemed all wrong.

“Or we could go somewhere else,” Ryan offered.

With the fish tank gurgling, Eric gave a man-sized stretch. “I kind of want to sleep in.”

It was a rejection but a mild one. And reasonable considering the sheet wrinkles on his cheek. Leaving Eric, Ryan went to Kyle's room and rapped on the open door.

Kyle looked up from tying his shoes. “Hey, Dad. You know that old barbell set? I thought I'd do some lifting.”

Ryan didn't bother to mention Minnie's. The weights and bench, stored in the garage with the Impala, were another relic from Ryan's past. He'd been scrawny in high school until weightlifting put muscle on his lanky frame. “I'll back the car out so you can get to them.”

“Cool. Would you spot me?”

“Sure.”

Ryan went to his bedroom, put on cargo shorts and a polo shirt, and pocketed the car keys he kept in a box with cuff links, watches, and other treasures, including his father's compass-style key chain. When Ryan was a boy, Garrett Tremaine had showed it to him with
the admonishment to always know where he was going in life. Fingering it now, Ryan thought of Carly. He possessed the strength of will to keep her at a distance, but pushing her away, especially with her recent loss, seemed wrong to him, even cruel.

He needed to know how to treat her, and for the first time he could recall, his intellect failed to steer him like that old compass. As much as he admired his father, at times like this he missed his mother's quiet confidence in God. She used to encourage him to pray, something he never did, though a quiet yearning occasionally made him lift his eyes to the sky with the vain hope that God was real. That urge hit now, but he ignored it and went to help Kyle.

When he reached the garage, the big door was open and Kyle was doing stretches on the lawn under a tree where last week Ryan had spotted a wasp nest. The gardener had removed it, but Ryan still glanced around. That's what fathers did. They protected the people they loved, especially women and children. Animals, too, he admitted, a bit chagrined. He didn't particularly care for cats, but Tom and Wild Thing were part of his family now.

Was that call to protect instinctive or learned? Ryan didn't know, but if Kyle was old enough for a girlfriend, it was time for the talk that had been pushed aside in the chaos of the past week. They'd covered the biology a long time ago, but not the tougher questions, like
when
and
who.

Ryan backed the car into the driveway, helped Kyle haul the bench, the bar, and the weights to the middle of the garage, then leaned against the workbench. Kyle picked up weights and set them down, gauging the heaviness to decide which ones to put on the bar.

Breathing in the smell left from the Chevy engine, Ryan draped one foot over the other. “Before you get started, I'd like to talk a minute.”

Kyle selected a ten-pound weight. “About what?”

“Girls.”

“Oh.” His hand went still with the weight in midair. He attached
it as well as the matching one for the other side, then looked Ryan in the eye. “You mean Taylor.”

“You're almost sixteen.” Ryan let the implication sink in.
You're almost an adult, a man.
“Taylor's a nice girl. You both have college ahead of you.”

Kyle's expression turned stony. “Dad, I know all this.”

“I know you do. It's just—”
Just what?
Kyle needed an example, not a lecture. And Ryan had set a poor one with the affair. “Just don't forget what's really important.”

“You mean school.”

“No, I mean Taylor.”

Kyle's cheeks reddened. Looking down, he nudged one of the weights with his foot. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“I do.” To Ryan's surprise, he meant it. He'd spoken with both boys about the divorce and his part in it, but Kyle was old enough for the next layer of reality. “You know what happened between your mother and me. I made a bad choice that hurt a lot of people.”

“Yeah.” Old pain leaked into his voice. “What are you trying to say?”

Ryan didn't really know, and that was the problem. It was one thing for an adult to set his own moral compass, but Kyle was a teenager.
Make your own rules
struck Ryan as terrible advice. He wondered what Carly would say, thought of the way she cared about people, and saw a simple answer. “Don't be selfish. Put Taylor first. You're too young to be too serious. You might get a do-over in sports, but you don't in real life.”

Kyle put his hands on his hips, his chin high. “Dad, I get it. Mom's given me this talk about a hundred times.”

Hooray for Heather. Ryan made a mental note to thank his ex-wife for picking up the pieces yet again. They'd both moved on emotionally, but they'd be forever linked through their sons. With nothing more to say, Ryan pointed at the weight bench. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kyle hesitated. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay if I ask Taylor over for dinner? Maybe next Tuesday?”

“Of course.” Tuesdays were Family Nights and the best part of Ryan's week. “Just check with Carly.”

“I will.” Kyle grinned. “She's a good cook, isn't she?”

“The best.”

Kyle stretched flat on the weight bench, flexed his fingers, then gripped the bar and started to press. Ryan stood close, counting out loud and ready to grab the bar if Kyle ran out of steam.

“Seven,” he counted. “Eight.”

Kyle's arms wobbled. Ryan reached for the bar, ready to grab it, but Kyle squeezed out the ninth rep. On the tenth, Ryan lifted the bar from him, felt the weight, and realized something. As surely as the reps were building muscle for Kyle, Ryan's past mistakes had prepared him for the situation with Carly. He just needed to take his own advice.

Don't be selfish. Put her first.

He hoped she was enjoying the beach, but he sensed she needed more than the vague comfort of waves rolling up dry sand. Grieving for Bette and maybe homesick for Kentucky, she needed a real friend. It was a beautiful day, a perfect day to take the Impala for a spin, so Ryan decided to find her.

But first Kyle needed to finish his workout. With Ryan ready to grab the bar, Kyle did five more series of reps, resting in between. “Man, this is hard.”

Ryan laughed. “No pain, no gain.”

“Yeah, right,” Kyle shot back.

When he finished, they put away the weights. Ryan fingered the key to the Impala. “Are you going to be home for a while?”

“Until four or so. Taylor's mom is driving us to the movies.”

“In that case, I'm going to check on Carly and Penny. Eric's still asleep. Keep an eye on things, all right?”

Kyle gave a thumbs-up, draped a towel around his neck, and headed for the back gate. Ryan hadn't driven the Impala since Penny tracked berry juice all over the seat, so he paused to check the upholstery. Sometimes stains re-emerged, but the seat looked as good as new. Pleased, he sat behind the big steering wheel, adjusted his sunglasses, and headed to the beach.

C
arly glanced over her shoulder at an incoming wave. “Hurry!” she called to Penny. “We don't have much time.”

While Penny used her feet like bulldozers to build up the mountain they called a castle, Carly used both hands to scoop out a moat. The sun was higher in the sky now, beating down on her shoulders left bare by a white tank top. She'd fight for the castle until the waves overtook it, then go home before she needed to break out the sunscreen for the second time.

A shadow fell across the castle and didn't move. Expecting an obnoxious passerby, she looked up with a slight frown, saw Ryan, and shot to her feet. “Is something wrong? Are the boys all right?”

“Everything's fine.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I decided to take the Impala for a spin. That's all.”

Penny stopped her bulldozing. “Hi, Dr. Tremaine. We're building a castle.”

“Want some help?” he asked.

Penny pointed to Carly's ditch. “That's a moat. It keeps the pirates away from the princess. Did you know God lives in the
clouds? He makes the ocean move, and He's watching us. He's in heaven like my mommy, and He's a daddy.”

Carly glanced at Ryan to gauge his reaction to Penny's rambling. He'd given her permission to share her faith with Penny, but he might not like the result. To her relief, she saw a big smile. “Those pirates can be a problem.”

Penny replied, “Help us dig.”

He dropped to his knees next to Carly, putting them shoulder to shoulder with the waves behind them. With two swipes of his big hands, he doubled the size of her little ditch. She crouched next to him and worked on the castle, drizzling wet sand to build a turret. When their fingers grazed, a little zing shot to her heart. She had no right to enjoy Ryan's presence in that way, so she focused on the scrape of wet sand on her knuckles.

Penny chattered while they worked. Ryan answered back, making jokes and praising his daughter for building such a pretty castle.

This was why she'd taken the job—to unite Ryan and his children. With her chest tight, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of . . . what? Carly couldn't read his expression behind the sunglasses, and she prayed he couldn't read hers, because her feelings for him pulled at her like the tide.

A wave rumbled in her ears, crashed, and raced up the shore. Enjoying the drama, Penny yelled, “Pirates!” and ran screaming to the blanket. Before Carly could stand, Ryan grabbed her hand and lifted her up. The water pulled the sand out from her soles, and she felt off balance until Ryan tightened his grip. “That was close. Those pirates are tricky.”

In more ways than one.
Slightly unnerved, she shifted her gaze to the watery lump of the sand castle, ruined beyond repair, and slipped out of his grasp.

Ryan nudged the remains of the castle with his foot. “Nothing lasts forever, does it?”

“Some things do.”
Heaven. God. Love.

Ryan stared down at the lump of wet sand. Carly wished she could see his eyes, but the sunglasses hid them, and his mouth stayed sealed. Finally he looked at Penny on the blanket, still wearing her orange life vest. “Thanks for being so careful with her.”

“Always.”

He waited, maybe for Carly to say more, but she didn't want to think about Allison and why she was so cautious.

Penny scrambled off the blanket. “Can we make another castle?”

“Not today.” Carly tousled Penny's hair. The ponytail had fallen apart a long time ago. “You're on the verge of a sunburn, and so am I.”

Ryan's gaze dipped to her shoulder. Her skin felt warm and not just from the sun. Fighting the tingle, she swiped at her arm as if brushing off sand, but it didn't help. The tingle spread down to her fingers, then her toes.

Glancing away, Ryan focused on Penny. “Carly's right. It's time to go home.”

Penny didn't seem to hear. She raised one arm over her head, stretched hard, and pointed at the sky. “I'm getting clouds in my room.”

Ryan turned to Carly with his eyebrows arched over the sunglasses into question marks.

She told him about the plan to paint a cloud mural. “I was going to ask you first.”

He whipped off the sunglasses, finally. “Do whatever you think is best. I trust your judgment more than my own. You have no idea the impact you've had on all of us—”

“It's nothing.”

“No,” he said. “It's everything.”

The compliment warmed her to her toes, but his deep voice gave her shivers—good ones. “I'm just glad to help.”

“You have.” He paused. “How about brunch somewhere? There's a pancake place not too far from here. Penny would love it.”

“You mean Minnie's?”

“That's it. Kyle and Eric used to like it.”

He sounded wistful, maybe a little lonely. Carly longed to say yes, but her feelings for Ryan were too close to the surface to be easily shoved aside. “You should go with Penny. Make it a daddy-daughter date.”

“Come with us,” he urged her. “I have the Impala. We'll cruise down PCH.”

The Pacific Coast Highway hugged the shoreline, and it was a beautiful day. The temptation to ride with him clawed at her, but she shook her head. “If you take Penny, I can pick up paint for the mural.”

Ryan put the sunglasses back on. “All right. If you need help moving the furniture, ask Kyle. He did some weightlifting this morning. He'd probably like to show off.”

“I will.”

“Eric will help, too.”

Carly's heart melted a little more. “He's coming out of vampire mode, isn't he?”

“We have a ways to go, but things are better.” Ryan indicated the blanket with a stretch of his arm. “Let's get your stuff packed up.”

They worked as a team, and in a few moments Penny was wearing shorts and a top, and Ryan was carrying the blanket on his shoulder and the tote bag in one hand. Carly took Penny's hand, and they headed to the parking lot, where the Impala stood proudly facing the beach.

Pointing, Penny jumped up and down. “It's Dr. Daddy's car!”

Dr. Daddy.
Not exactly
Daddy
, but it was a big step for Penny. Grinning, Carly turned to Ryan. “Did you hear that?”

“I did.” His eyes were riveted to Penny, who was pulling Carly's arm out of the socket. Giving up, Carly ran with her to the car, turned, and saw Ryan approaching with long strides. With his dark hair blowing in the wind, he reminded her of the pretend pirates invading the sand castle, except he wasn't imaginary.

He put the beach gear in the Cavalier's trunk, then faced her. “This is because of you. Carly, I—”

“It's not me. It's . . .”
Love.
But she didn't want to say that word to Ryan, not with her heart humming for him. “It's just being a family.”

“Whatever you call it, you're part of it.”

“Not really.”

“You are,” he insisted. “Without you, I'd be fumbling along on that SOS list. Nothing would be crossed off. Now it's half finished.”

“I'm glad.”

With the sun bright, his eyes glistened like the ocean and seemed just as fathomless. “I want to be a friend to you, too.”

“You are.”

An invisible cord formed between them and she wondered if he'd kiss her cheek. She stepped back, but the cord tightened like a rubber band being stretched. She took another step, but the tension only increased. The only way to break the pull was to step closer so that the cord would sag. If Ryan considered her part of his family, she needed to be someone safe, like a sister.

Veering back to his side, she raised her arm and made a fist for a knuckle bump. “Friends?”

“Friends,” he said, bumping her knuckles against his.

The bones cracked, and they both laughed. Penny stood at the side of the Impala, bouncing on her toes.

“Ready for a ride?” Ryan asked her.

“Yeah!”

“How about pancakes? I know a place that makes them with chocolate chips.”

Chocolate chips didn't register with her. “Can we go
home
in the car?”

“Of course,” he said. “But first we'll get pancakes.”

“Okay, but then I want to go home.”

They moved the booster seat from Carly's car to the back of the
Impala and secured it with the aftermarket seat belt. After buckling Penny in, Ryan turned to Carly. “You can still change your mind about those pancakes.”

“No.” She hugged herself and shivered. “I want to pick up the paint, but I'm worried about Penny in the convertible. You know how sensitive she is to noise.”

“I'll put the top up.”

Penny punched both arms in the air. “Hurry!”

“She sure is enthusiastic about the car,” Carly said. “Maybe you can figure out the tie to running away.” A strand of hair caught on her mouth, and she pulled it away.

Ryan's eyes seemed to catch on her lips, but he glanced up in a blink. “I'll let you know what I find out.”

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to her car, an unnecessary courtesy but one she appreciated.

“I'll follow you out of the lot,” he said.

Carly waited while he started the Impala. He said something to Penny, then pushed a button to raise the top. Twisting her head, Penny watched the cloth drop into place. Ryan leaned across the big car and worked the latches, then signaled to Carly with a wave that he was ready to go. She waved back, headed for the exit, and they drove off in opposite directions.

A little lonely, she thought of sand castles and knuckle bumps, rubber bands, pirates, and the moat around the castle that had been wiped away with a single wave. Pirates needed love, too, but her father was right. She needed to be careful with her heart. It was far safer to befriend the entire crew of the pirate ship than to fall in love with the captain.

Ryan pulled the Impala into the garage, cut the engine, and turned to make eye contact with Penny in the backseat. Brunch at Minnie's had been a big hit, but this was the moment that could
give insight into her reason for running away. “We're home,” he said, sounding extra cheerful.

Her eyes darted up to the cloth top of the car, then to the passenger window. She whipped her head left and right, then let out a cry. “This isn't
home
!”

“Honey—”

“No!” Straining against the booster straps, she kicked the seat as hard as she could, shouting, “No, no, no, no” over and over.

Ryan bolted out of the car, worked the buckle, and lifted her into his arms while she fought with the fury that was uniquely Penny. Hurting for them both, he paced the driveway until she cried herself to sleep. With his muscles aching, he carried her to his bedroom, tucked her in with Lance and Miss Rabbit, then kissed the top of her sweaty head, and paused to breathe in the silence.

He hoped Carly had some insight, because Penny's meltdowns were excruciating for everyone. Tense and stirred up, he followed the paint smell to Penny's room, paused at the open door, and took in the sight of Carly in a loose shirt and a pair of cutoffs that showed her tanned legs. Brush in hand, she stood on her tiptoes to reach the top of a cloud, unaware of him until he cleared his throat.

She turned her head but kept the brush close to the wall. “How did it go?”

“Horrible.”

She hurried to spread the brush load of paint, then lowered her arm. “I saw you put her down. Tell me about it.”

He crossed the room and leaned against the windowsill. “She had a major meltdown.”

“At the restaurant?”

“No. In the garage.” Dragging his hand over his neck, he caught a whiff of maple syrup on his shirt. “The instant I said we were home, she exploded.”

Carly laid the wet brush over the open can, turned Penny's desk chair to face him, and sat. “What did she say?”

“That this wasn't home.”

“So that's it,” Carly said, matter-of-factly. “The way her mind works,
home
is likely to be a specific physical place rather than an abstract concept. If I had to guess, I'd say she's thinking of the condo where she lived with her mother.”

“I think so.”

“So this house isn't home to her yet.”

“No.” It pained Ryan to admit it, but the facts stood. “Until the meltdown, we had a good time. She calls me Dr. Daddy all the time now.”

“That's wonderful.” Carly smiled, but he heard a touch of melancholy in her voice. “It won't be long before she drops the ‘doctor' altogether.”

“I hope so.”

“She will,” Carly assured him. “I can see how much she loves you, and we've made the whole house more comfortable for her. It'll take time, but she'll make the leap. The question is, how can we help her do it.”

“Any ideas?”

Carly glanced at the top of Penny's dresser, bare except for a little white jewelry box she liked. “Penny needs to understand that her mother's gone, but she also needs the comfort of memories. Let's ask Denise for a picture of Jenna.”