Beach Baby. Joan Kilby
Beebee asked plaintively.
“She’s coming.” Reid stroked her damp curls off her forehead. In his arms, she heaved a deep sigh. “Let’s go inside and put you to bed.” He walked back to the house on the grass and pointed out the first star glinting in an indigo sky. “Make a wish, Beebee.”
“Mommy,” Beebee said and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“She’ll be home soon.”
Nina held the door open for him to go through. “Ou-yay ouldn’t-shay ake-may omises-pray ou-yay an’t-cay eep-kay.”
Reid set Beebee on the floor. “Go get your dolly. It’s bedtime.” Then he looked at Nina as though she were demented. “What on earth are you saying?”
“Ou-yay ouldn’t-shay—”
“She’s forgotten all about her om-may. She’s not even paying attention to us anymore,” he added, nodding at the toddler.
Beebee was busy piling clean laundry onto Daisy’s back and giggling when it fell off. Dog and child distributed clothing around the room—a sock behind the couch, a T-shirt next to the window.
Nina, too frazzled to sit still, followed behind, picking up the clothing as she went. “We should call the police.”
“Too soon.” Reid locked the door and bolted it, then slid the chain across. “She has to be gone twenty-four hours before they’ll file a missing-persons report.”
Nina dumped her armload of clothing onto the couch and began to fold the individual items, finding the mindless activity soothing. “Is there no way to contact her? An address or a phone number?”
“I’ve searched her room. She didn’t leave anything written down that I could see,” Reid replied.
“How long has Amy been here?” Nina looked around at the clothing and toys. “They seem very settled in.”
“A few days…maybe a week.”
Maybe a week? Reid had always been a little absentminded, lost in his own world, but even for him, the answer was vague.
Before she could probe further, the front door rattled as someone tried to enter. A second later the bell rang. Reid strode across the room, unlocked and flung open the door. Beebee tried to shoot through the gap only for Reid to grab her by the scruff of her pajamas and haul her unceremoniously into his arms.
A young woman with waist-length blond hair hurried inside. Nina felt the butterflies in her stomach buffet her rib cage. At last. Her daughter. Frozen to the spot, Nina watched her in amazement. She was beautiful. She was real.
“Amy!” Reid exclaimed with relief. “Where have you been? What happened to you?”
Amy lifted Beebee out of Reid’s arms and hugged her to herself. “Mommy’s here.” She glanced at Reid over Beebee’s shoulder. “The bus I was on collided with a dump truck in the tunnel. They just sideswiped each other but it caused a pileup that took hours to sort out.”
“I heard about the accident on the radio coming out here so I went around by the bridge,” Nina said. “Are you all right?”
Amy glanced at her with a puzzled frown. “Not a scratch on me. Ambulances took us all to Emergency to get checked out.”
“Why didn’t you call?” Reid demanded. “I know you don’t have a cell phone but you could have borrowed one.”
“I didn’t have your number with me. Crazy, huh? I never thought I would need it.” Amy stroked Beebee’s back while the little girl played with her hoop earrings. “There was a public phone booth in Emergency but no phone book. I guess I could have dialed directory assistance but I didn’t think of it at the time. I’m sorry if you were worried.”
“How did you get home?” Reid asked.
“They brought out another bus.” Amy peered around Beebee to study Nina curiously. “You look familiar. Are you by any chance…?”
Related? Did she see the resemblance? Nina wondered breathlessly. She could, in the eyes and the shape of the mouth. “I’m…” she began, but her breath had lodged in her chest, preventing her from speaking.
“You are!” Amy said. “You’re Nina Kennerly from the TV show Chat with Nina. Reid watches you every night.” Amy turned to Reid. “You didn’t tell me you knew Nina Kennerly. Are you two friends?”
Reid threw Nina an unreadable glance. “Something like that.” He touched Amy’s arm. “Maybe you should get Beebee settled. She’s had a lot of excitement tonight.”
“I’ll put her to bed,” Amy said and carried her child down the hall to their bedroom.
“I didn’t know what I should say when she asked me who you were,” Reid said quietly. “What are you going to tell her?”
Nina began picking up toys and piling them into a toy box in the corner. “The truth, of course. That’s why I came out here tonight.”
Amy returned and flopped into a chair, blowing out a sigh that fluttered her wispy bangs. “Whew! What a day. But I got the part as an extra.”
“That’s great,” Reid said.
“How exciting,” Nina added warmly. “What role do you play?”
“I’m a tourist.” Amy glanced at her, at the toys in her hand, and wrinkled her brow. “Excuse me, I know you’re Nina Kennerly but are you, like, Reid’s girlfriend or something?” When neither Nina or Reid replied, she said, “Am I being nosy? Just tell me to mind my own business.”
Nina sat on the arm of the couch, looked at Reid, then back to Amy. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. All the speeches she’d mentally composed to break the news gently fled her brain and she blurted, “I’m your biological mother.”
No one moved in the frozen silence. Time itself might have been suspended were it not for the quiet ticking of a mantel clock. Amy stared. Nina gazed steadfastly back, her heart pounding in her throat. She usually had so much to say she couldn’t get it all out but, at the moment, her wits and her voice failed her.
Finally, Amy blinked and swallowed. “My mother?” she said in a choked voice. “The woman who gave birth to me?”
Nina bit her lip and nodded. Was Amy pleased? Disappointed? It was hard to tell.
“I don’t understand,” Amy said. “How did you find me?”
“Elaine called my mother to tell her you were in town looking for me and gave her Reid’s address.”
Amy’s gaze flicked to Reid. A faint frown crossed her features as if there were a connection here she didn’t understand and couldn’t work out.
“I know Elaine Hocking is your real mother,” Nina went on in a rush. “I know I can’t ever take her place and I wouldn’t want to but if I could in some small way be part of your life, part of Beebee’s life—” she drew a breath “—I would be so happy.”
Amy went completely still for another agonizing minute. Then tears leaked from her eyes and she rose from her chair to start forward only to falter, as if unsure.
“Oh, my dear.” Nina’s eyes flooded as she pulled her daughter into an awkward embrace. “Oh, my dear sweetpea.”
Amy drew back, blinking with surprise. “Sweetpea?”
Nina felt heat bloom in her cheeks. “It’s a pet name I had for you. I didn’t know your real name, you see. I shouldn’t have burst out with it. I must sound silly and sentimental.”
Amy shook her head, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It’s cool.”
Nina let out a long breath, easing but not releasing her pent-up anxiety. It still didn’t seem possible that this young woman