Beach Baby. Joan Kilby
pale and somehow fragile. There were faint shadows under her blue eyes and she’d chewed all the color off her lips. Whipping out her lipstick, she reapplied a pale pink gloss and quickly ran her fingers through her hair. She was as ready as she’d ever be.
Her high heels sank into the white gravel driveway and she quickly moved to the concrete path leading to the front door. Who lived here? she wondered. Someone with a few bucks, if the late-model SUV in the carport was anything to go by. The beat-up wooden sailing dinghy with a broken mast and peeling paint next to the SUV seemed out of place.
Her stomach gave a faint rumble, reminding her that after she’d finished work she’d driven straight here without changing her clothes or stopping for dinner. Too late now. She buzzed the doorbell and pressed her palms against her linen skirt. Through the frosted-glass strip beside the door, she could see a light on in a back room but the front of the house was dark. She should have called first instead of just turning up. Amy might be out. She might be busy. She might—
The front door opened to reveal a man in a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. His rumpled dark hair was cut close at the sides and laugh lines framed his mouth and eyes.
“Reid?” She froze to the spot. Even after all these years, she would have known him anywhere.
“Nina?” He went still. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” she croaked. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” he said.
Low blood sugar combined with shock caused Nina’s knees to buckle and black spots swam before her eyes. Reid sprang forward and gripped her elbow. “You’d better come inside and sit down.”
He led her through the foyer and into a formal living room strewn with toys, unfolded laundry and movie magazines. Nina sank gratefully onto a soft couch. Reid placed the back of his warm hand against her clammy forehead. It could have been a gesture of tenderness and concern but his voice was brusque. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, feeling anything but. She’d come here to meet her daughter and found Reid instead. She could hardly believe it was him standing before her. She’d known he was back in Vancouver ever since he’d been interviewed in the local media. She knew he’d been married and had another daughter, that his wife had died a few years ago.
He looked the same, though a little older, of course. His features had lost the softness of youth and were stronger, more defined. Like an optical illusion, one second he was her closest friend and lover, then she blinked and he was a stranger. In spite of everything, she looked hungrily for the humorous twist to his mouth, the twinkle in his dark eyes. But he wasn’t smiling; he was scowling at her. Time alone couldn’t extinguish the rancor they’d parted with.
“Where’s…” Nina swallowed hard at the fresh ordeal of speaking their daughter’s name. “…Amy? My mother said she’s looking for her biological parents. I guess she found you first.”
Reid cast her an odd glance. “Uh, yeah.”
“I had no idea this was your house,” Nina said. “Or I would never have…I mean, I would have called first.” This was so awkward; she, who lived to talk, had no idea what to say to him. Nina glanced around. “So, where is she?”
“She’s…out.”
“When do you expect her back?”
“She’s missing, actually,” Reid admitted. “I’m getting worried.”
“Missing!” Nina sat up straighter. “How…where? When was the last time you saw her?”
“She left this morning around 9:00 a.m.,” Reid said. “She was going into Vancouver to audition for a walk-on part in a movie.” He moved a teddy bear out of the way so he could sit beside Nina. “She was very excited about it.”
Out of habit, Nina pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse and jotted down the time and place, glad of something concrete to focus on during this surreal experience. “So she’s an actress?”
“She’s performed in high-school productions. As far as I know, this is the first professional job she’s gone for.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She wouldn’t leave Beebee this long unless something happened.”
“Is Beebee—” Nina began then thought she heard a childish giggle and stopped. “What was that?”
Reid tilted his head. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Never mind. Neither do I, now. Beebee is an odd name. Is she our—?” Nina tapped the pen against the paper. This was too weird. “Is Beebee Amy’s little girl?”
“Yes.” Reid lifted his head, still listening. “I put her in her crib but she keeps getting out. I’d better check on her.”
Before he could move, a tiny girl with flaming curls and yellow sleepers wriggled out from behind the couch, giggling madly, and ran into the hallway and toward the front door. Over the top of the low divider separating the living room from the foyer Nina could see a small determined hand trying to turn the knob.
“Beebee!” Reid cried. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Oh, she’s so sweet!” Nina exclaimed, forgetting everything else in the joy of seeing her grandchild. “She’s got my mother’s hair.”
“Don’t be fooled by that angelic face,” Reid said. “She’s an escape artist.” He lunged across the room, tripped on a stuffed elephant and fell sideways into a pile of towels. “Oof! Don’t let her get away.”
Beebee gave the doorknob a final twist and the door swung open. Nina heard a last gleeful chuckle and then the little imp pattered down the steps and disappeared into the night.
“Damn! I forgot to turn the dead bolt after I let you in.” Reid struggled to right himself amid the tangled laundry. “You can’t take your eyes off that child for a minute.”
“Then why did you?” Nina picked her way across the room through toys and clothes. “If you’re supposed to be looking after her, you’re not doing a very good job.”
“Just…get…her!” Reid swore as a pair of toddler’s overalls wrapped themselves around his ankles and brought him to his knees.
Nina paused in the doorway to scan the yard. Beebee was running down the driveway as fast as her little legs could carry her. Nina took off after her, her high heels wobbling dangerously in the loose gravel. “Beebee! Come back here, darling. Come to—” She broke off, the word grandma sticking in her throat. “Come to Nina.”
The headlights of a car approached, on a collision course with Beebee barreling straight for the road. Nina shouted, “Beebee, stop this instant!”
Beebee slid to a halt and spun to face Nina, her mouth a startled O. Her surprise at this stranger speaking so harshly swiftly turned to mutiny. She drew in a lungful of air then emitted an ear-piercing shriek. The passing station wagon turned a corner but Beebee’s high-pitched noise went on and on, like a car alarm that wouldn’t turn off. A couple walking their miniature poodle down the street frowned at Nina and whispered to each other.
“It’s a game we play,” Nina called to the couple, laughing. “I’m her…her older female relative.” She marched over to Beebee and picked up the child who was still screaming and as stiff as a board. “Beebee, stop,” she pleaded in an urgent undertone. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Ow, yeow, yikes.” Arms flailing, Reid hopped over the sharp gravel in bare feet. He reached for Beebee. “Come here, honey.”
“Weed!” Beebee kicked off from Nina’s stomach, launching herself out of Nina’s arms to dive into Reid’s waiting embrace. She threw Nina an angry, suspicious glare then buried her face in Reid’s shirt.
“Oomph.” Nina doubled over. “What is wrong with that little banshee?”
“You