Ben helped Gracie out of the truck, where her pink tutu was immediately snatched up by the wind. It blew right over her head. Thank God he’d insisted on her wearing shorts underneath.
She yanked it back down again, unfazed. She looked so cute, so supremely six, that Ben’s heart caught in his throat. She was growing up so fast. Before he knew it, she’d be filling out college applications and going to her senior prom. But Isabel would tell him to relax, to slow down. Not to miss out on today because of thoughts of losing her to adulthood tomorrow. And she’d be absolutely right.
She tucked her hand in his, and it reminded him of a little paw. His little cub, so adventurous and unafraid. Even though she’d experienced more hurt than any child should at her age, Gracie was a force to be reckoned with. Tutu and all.
She tugged on his hand and he lengthened his strides to keep up.
“Ooohh! They’re flying a kite!”
He looked down the beach, and sure enough, a colorful dragon kite dipped and bobbed on the breeze. The ocean was subdued today, sparkling turquoise underneath the summer sun. Noisy seagulls flew overhead, their wings speckled gray against the robin’s-egg sky. It was a perfect afternoon for a party.
“Do you think we’ll have cake before or after presents?” Gracie asked.
“I’m not sure. Nana made lunch, though, so no cake until you eat something good for you.”
“Quesadillas?”
“Maybe.”
“Nana knows not to put chicken in mine.” She made a face. “Yuck.”
“Gracie...”
“I know. Be grateful for what we have.”
“That’s right. Even when it’s chicken.”
“Even when it’s chicken.” She sighed dramatically.
“Look, honey, there’s Joe.”
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, but be careful of those rocks. And stay where I can see you. And do not go near that water, understand?”
She nodded, but kept watching her cousins playing tag on the beach.
“Gracie,” Ben said, waiting until she looked up at him. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, then.”
“Love you!”
Without another word, she let go of his hand and sprinted in the direction of the other kids, nothing but a streak of pink tulle in the wind.
Clutching Joe’s present underneath his arm, Ben watched her go. Then shifted his gaze to the adults milling around the group of picnic tables at the edge of the beach. His dad was standing at the barbecue, where smoke curled into the air. He was wearing a flowered apron, and a Portland Trail Blazers cap turned backward. Ben’s mom stood next to him, talking over his shoulder. Back-seat grilling, no doubt.
His brothers and sisters were all here with their families, along with a few miscellaneous friends. It was a typical Martinez birthday party. His family never missed an opportunity to gather. And eat.
Ben smiled, taking a step toward them. But stopped when he saw Frances talking with Isabel off to the side. If Frances was here...
Isabel hadn’t mentioned inviting Kyla. But then again, she wouldn’t have to. This was their party, not his. Still, there was a momentary prickle of irritation at his little sister. Sure, she wanted to reconnect with her old friend. But he also knew her well enough to guess there was another motive, too.
As if reading his mind, Isabel glanced over and waved sheepishly. Yeah. Definitely busted.
Gritting his teeth, he waved back.
“Your nephew is adorable.”
Ben startled and turned at the sound of the voice behind him. And there she was. Looking beautiful in an army-green tank top and faded jeans. Her dark hair was up today—in a simple ponytail with silky tendrils blowing around her face.
Ben felt himself warm at the sight of her.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said.
“I didn’t either. Until the other night when Isabel showed up with tamales and enchiladas. Which, by the way, were the best things I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“Better than Mom’s?”
“Possibly. And I’ll deny saying that, just so you know.”
He glanced over at the barbecue. It didn’t look like the food was anywhere near ready yet, and Isabel was now settled in a lawn chair, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and watching the kids play.
He turned back to her. “It looks like lunch might be a while. What do you say to a walk on the beach?”
The words were out and hanging there before he realized what he’d said. He waited, half expecting her to recoil at the suggestion.
“Actually,” she said, “I’d like that. I didn’t make it to the gym this morning, so this will help me get my steps in.”
He smiled. “And the beach is better than the treadmill from hell?”
“Also that.”
“Just let me put Joe’s present back in the truck, and we can head up toward the pier. The views there are pretty amazing. But you know that already.”
The pier had been one of Kyla and Isabel’s favorite hangouts as kids. Even though Isabel hadn’t been allowed to go there without an adult, they’d snuck over there often anyway. Ben knew they’d go after school to feed the sea lions that sunned themselves on the planks below, and he’d told them he’d keep their secret as long as they stayed together and didn’t talk to strangers. But Isabel had almost fallen in one day, and that was the end of that. She could’ve been killed.
That was around the time he’d learned that keeping someone’s secrets was sometimes the worst thing you could do for them.
They headed down to the beach, stepping carefully over the rocks, and crossing a small stream snaking its way through the sand. Kyla wobbled a little, and Ben reached out to steady her before her sneakers got soaked.
Putting his hands in his pockets again, he looked out over the ocean as they made their way down the beach, with the foamy waves breaking only a few yards away. Salty spray hung in the air, clinging to his skin and making him wonder if Kyla was cold. She was quiet, walking beside him with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Here,” he said. “Let me switch sides.” He stepped around her so he was closest to the water, hoping to shield her from the wind.
“Oh. Well, that was chivalrous of you.”
“I live to serve.”
“Actually, you literally do live to serve.”
He thought about that for a second. “I guess I do. Protect and serve, that is. But I do it for a paycheck, so...”
“I’m guessing you’d do it even if you didn’t get paid. You’re kind of a natural at it.”
“You think so?”
“The way you are with Hunter? You’re a really good police officer, Ben.”
It might’ve been more than she’d meant to say, because she looked down then and scuffed at the sand with the toe of her shoe.
They continued walking, but the silence between them felt more meaningful this time around. Like there were things to say, but neither one of them knew quite where to start.
Ben slowed, the cool breeze buffeting the back of his neck. The smell of the salt water tangy in his nose. And the woman beside him waking up memories inside him that had been sleeping for a long time. It was enough to make him glance over at her now. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a grown woman, strong as steel. Yet she’d let down enough of her amor to show the slightest trace of tenderness around her edges. It accented her, like lace. He still wanted to protect her. Even all these years later.
He stopped then, hands still in his pockets, and turned to her. She stopped, too. Her eyes were almost lavender today. Next to the ocean, or simply what she wore, they seemed to change color. She was a chameleon.
“What?” she asked, reaching up to push a strand of hair away from her face.
He frowned. This walk had seemed like a good idea ten minutes ago. With his family milling about, and lunch about to be ready. But here, now, he wasn’t so sure. He was so damn drawn to her, and he really didn’t understand where that was coming from. Yes, she was gorgeous. But her looks alone weren’t enough to justify the steady pounding of his heart as he stood there taking her in.
“We’ve never talked, Kyla,” he said. “About you getting taken from your mom. I’ve always wanted to explain what happened. Why I did what I did.”
She swallowed visibly. “I know why. I was being neglected. I understand.”
“But you still blame me.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I know it is. And I know how painful it was for you.”
She looked away.
“Kyla...”
Slowly, she looked back. Her eyes were glassy.
“We weren’t going to get involved,” he said. “At least not until we knew for sure what was going on. That’s what my parents said when I came to them about it. They didn’t want you traumatized any more than you already were, and they thought as long as you were over at our place so much, we could keep an eye on you. But I was at school one day, and I’d said something before I even knew what I’d done. I’m not sorry about talking to that counselor, because you were suffering. That was obvious. But I can’t tell you how sorry I am that your mom passed after that. I’m so sorry you didn’t get to go home again.”
Her chin was trembling now, but he could tell she was fighting it. He longed to pull her into his arms and hold her against his chest. He understood how it felt to be let down by someone who was supposed to love you. He understood how it felt to be alone.
Instead, he dug his hands farther into his pockets, just so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for her. Kyla had always had a hold on his heart. When she was little, he felt compelled to look out for her. Now she stood before him, grown, self-assured in a way that was both unfamiliar and wholly attractive, he felt compelled to ease her pain. In any way possible.
“I’m not usually this fragile,” she said. “I’m not sure why now.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing. Talking about it.”
It was absurd, really. Him giving anyone advice on how to deal with their emotions. He, who hadn’t managed to let go of any of the anger that had been brewing inside him since the day Sam had walked out the door.
“I feel guilty,” she said. “And as an adult, I know that doesn’t make any sense. But I still feel guilty that I wasn’t there to save her. If I’d been there, maybe...maybe...”
Her voice hitched. And that did it.
It didn’t matter that they barely knew each other anymore. In this moment, it didn’t matter that for the last few weeks he was sure she’d hated him. And he didn’t care that Isabel was probably watching from down the beach at this point. He just wanted to comfort her, to make the burden she carried lighter, if he could.
He owed her that, at least.
Stepping forward, he did what he’d longed to do since that first day he’d seen her outside the candy shop. Breathing hard after chasing Hunter, her cheeks pink, her eyes compassionate despite everything, a feeling had welled up in his chest. At the time, he’d buried it—he’d had no business feeling such things for Kyla Beckett. Ever.
But now...now, he pulled her gently to him.
To his surprise, she rested her head against his chest, relaxing into him in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible a minute ago. He felt her soft exhalation of breath into his shirt. It was warm, and painfully sweet.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. The wind blew strands of her hair across his face, bringing with it the smell of her shampoo. He hadn’t planned this. He’d never meant to touch her at all. But that was the thing about Kyla. Everything about her was turning out to be a surprise.
After a minute, she sniffed and pulled away.
“This is embarrassing,” she said, looking down. “I think I’m alright now. Sorry.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We were practically family once, remember?”
“A long time ago.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends again.”
“I don’t know, Ben. You don’t know me anymore. I’m a hard person to be friends with.”
“Why?”
She licked her lips. “You know, brick walls. I don’t like to get hurt. That kind of thing. Cliché, but true.”
“So, it’d be a one-sided friendship.”
“Something like that.”
He shrugged. “I can live with it. If you end up forgiving me, I can live with it.”
“I forgive you.”
He put his hands back in his pockets and watched as she picked up a small flat rock and threw it into the water. Four skips. He was impressed.
“Nice try,” he said. “But I can tell when someone is blowing smoke.”
She looked over at him.
“Police officer, remember?”
“Right.”
“Saying you forgive me isn’t the same thing as actually forgiving me.”
She nodded, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth for a minute. “You’re right,” she finally said. “I think I just need time to work through things. I didn’t think that being back in Christmas Bay would affect me like it has. But it’s like no time has passed at all. It’s just hard, that’s all.”
Judging by the look on her face, he knew the word hard didn’t cut it. Not by a long shot.
“I’m still so mad,” she continued, “that sometimes I’m afraid it’s going to eat up what’s left of me. Do you ever feel that way?”
He couldn’t say he knew exactly how she felt, because he’d always had two loving parents. But he knew the part about feeling consumed by anger from Sam. It had become a cornerstone of his psyche. It did things to you.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
“And sometimes I don’t know who I want to hate, and who to let off the hook. I don’t want to hate my mom for what she did to me. I loved her. I still love my mom. It’s easier to blame other people.” She sighed. “I guess it sounds complicated.”
His heart twisted at that. “It makes sense,” he said quietly.
“You’re a convenient punching bag.”
“I get that, too.”
“And I’d be lying if I said I trusted you completely.”
“It’s like we’re the same person.”
She laughed. And it sounded good to his ears. What happened with Kyla had always bothered him. And now that she was working right down the street from the station, he also knew he’d be seeing a lot of her this summer. It just made sense to try and fix this between them.
They stood there watching each other, not saying anything, until they heard their names being called from down the beach.
They turned at the same time to see Isabel with her hands cupped around her mouth. “Food is ready!”
Ben waved back. Then turned back to Kyla. “Food. I hope you’re hungry.”
“For your mom’s cooking? I’m starving.”
“Copy that. Let’s go.”
She stepped past him, and he let his gaze fall to the curve of her back. He swallowed hard. It looked like holding her in his arms, even for a minute or two, was going to have some consequences.
“Have a nice day!”
Frances held the door open as the elderly man shuffled past and out onto the sidewalk.
Kyla stood at the window, watching him go. He slapped his cane in front of him, and tipped his hat to a woman walking by. He’d come in to get candy for his grandson who would be visiting from Ohio this week. Naturally, Frances had led him straight to the gummy worms.
“Whew,” Frances sighed, leaning down to give Jacques a pat. “It’s been a circus today.”
Kyla nodded. Mondays were usually slow. But not this one. She and Frances had been hopping since opening the doors that morning, but it looked like they were in for an after-lunch lull. Kyla was glad. She’d been distracted, off. And knew exactly why.
Walking around to the cash register, she wiped at some dust on the old-fashioned keys. Then straightened a bobblehead figurine of Elvis that Stella had sent a few days ago from Graceland. She was an Elvis fanatic.
“Feel like talking about it?” Frances asked.
She glanced up, hoping she looked appropriately clueless. “Talk about what?”
But Frances knew her too well. And besides, she’d seen her take a walk with Ben at the party. She’d probably seen them hugging, too. Everyone at the party had probably seen them hugging.
However, Frances was also good at giving her space, and not pushing when other mothers might want to. She knew Kyla had a tendency to retreat back into herself when things got complicated, and the subject of Ben Martinez was just that.
“You know what,” Frances said evenly. “But if you’d rather not go there, I’ll leave it alone.”
“There’s really nothing to talk about.” Kyla shrugged, feeling her pulse tap traitorously behind her ears. “He just wanted to talk about my mom, that kind of thing. I haven’t really thought too much about it.”
Wow. What a whopper.
Frances stared at her, obviously not buying a word of that.
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe I’ve been thinking about it a little.”
“Uh-huh.”
The truth was, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How he’d pulled her close on the beach that day. How his embrace had given her shelter from the breeze—and the comfort she’d been so desperately seeking for so long. How the steady beat of his heart had felt, strong and sure next to her cheek. How clean his shirt had smelled, and the musky scent of his skin.
Looking away, she hoped Frances wouldn’t recognize the expression on her face. Longing. Maybe even lust. She’d tried so hard to resist those feelings, but it turned out that resisting had only made them burn brighter, and with an intensity that scared her. Now she just had to figure out how she was going to smother this attraction to Ben once and for all. Until the summer was over and she went back to...
She frowned. Until she went back to where? It had been easy to forget these last few weeks, but this move to Christmas Bay was never supposed to be permanent. She was going to have to start thinking about her future soon. She knew of several places that were hiring in Eugene, and if worse came to worst, she could always sub until she found the right position.
“I just wish he wasn’t such a nice guy,” she said. “It’d be easier to hate him that way.”
“You never hated him, honey. You tried to hate him. What you were was angry. And very hurt. Which was understandable, given the circumstances.”
“I don’t know anymore. I really don’t.”
“What else did he say?”
“That he was sorry,” Kyla said, looking over at Frances. “I think he feels like he owes me something.”
“Or maybe he just wants your forgiveness. In your heart, you’re still angry. Aren’t you?”
“That’s what he said.” Kyla sighed. “I guess I am.”
“Sweetheart...”
Frances came over and rubbed a few circles on her back, something she always used to do when Kyla was upset. “It’s going to be okay, you know. Being back here is hard—I know that. But I also think it’s going to be therapeutic for you. Facing these things isn’t easy, but it’s a way forward.”
“I’d love to believe that.”
“There’s no reason why you can’t.”
Kyla looked out the window to the tourists strolling by. It didn’t seem like they had a care in the world, but of course that wasn’t true. They were on vacation, some of them just for the day, but that didn’t mean that their pain, their problems weren’t waiting when they got home.
In some ways, she felt like she was on vacation in Christmas Bay, too. Like she was pushing everything off to the side, but knew eventually she’d have to face it. She thought about Frances getting lost the other night, and how hard the future might be for their little family.
“Frances,” she said. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do in a few years? With the shop, with the house...”
Frances frowned at that, and Kyla noticed some soft new wrinkles near the corners of her mouth. “Sometimes,” she said. “But I don’t like to. I don’t want anything to change.”
“But it’s going to. You know that, right? Things always change eventually.”
“Not if I fight them hard enough.”
Kyla felt her stomach curl into itself. Just how was she going to negotiate this with someone she loved so much?
“Why?” Frances asked, sounding wary.
“I don’t know. I’m a little worried, I guess.”
“Well, you don’t have to be. I’m fine. I mean, my memory isn’t what it used to be, but whose is?”
Kyla steeled herself. She could tiptoe around this, but that would be a disservice to Frances, who’d always admired honesty above all else.
“Frances,” she said slowly. “I think your memory is getting worse.”
Her foster mother stiffened at that.
“And I do worry,” Kyla said, plunging ahead, “because I love you, and I want what’s best for you, and I’m not sure that juggling the house and the shop is going to be doable forever.”
“Well, not forever, no. But as of right now, I’m fine, Kyla.”
Pulling at a loose string on her sweatshirt, Kyla took a steadying breath. “Isabel told me what happened the other night.”
“Oh, that. It wasn’t a big thing. That neighborhood is new and confusing. You’ve said so yourself.”
“I know. That’s true. But what if she hadn’t driven by when she had?”
“I would’ve eventually found my way home. Christmas Bay isn’t that big. Honestly, honey, I think you’re making too big a deal out of this.”
But the way she said it, the way her chin was trembling, just slightly, told Kyla she was worried, too.
Kyla reached for her hand. “You know I’m here. We’re all here for you.”
“You have your own life. Stella and Marley have their own lives. I don’t ever want to be a burden to any of you.”
“You’d never be a burden. We’re family.”
It was the truth. What would she ever do without Frances? After all, Frances had become the anchor in Kyla’s life when she needed one most. The thought of losing her, or her sharp, witty, intelligent mind, was simply too much to bear.
The door opened with a tinkle of the bell, and they both looked up at the same time.
There, in his signature hoodie and Converse All Stars, was Hunter. And when he saw them, he smiled wide.
“I just came in to say hey,” he said. “And, you know. To get another Tootsie Pop.” He jingled some change in his pocket. “Don’t worry—I’m paying this time.”
Frances looked over at her and raised her brows.
He looked from Kyla to Frances, and back again. “What?” he said.
Kyla laughed at the expression on his face. “Nothing,” she said. “We were just hoping you’d be back in, that’s all.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“We absolutely were,” Frances said. “I have a proposal for you.”
“What kind of proposal?”
“An employment proposal, if you will.”
Hunter frowned. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, honey. In fact, it’s just the opposite. We want to offer you a job.”
He stared at her. “A job... Why?”
“Because I think you have the potential to be very good behind the counter. You obviously know your candy.” She winked. “But we’d have to start out slow, only a few hours on the weekends to see if it works out. To see how seriously you’d take it.”
He seemed to be processing this, his blond hair falling over one eye. He was a cute kid. But Kyla still wondered how good an idea this really was. It could end up being great, or it could end up being a disaster. Only time, and Hunter himself, would tell.
“What do you think, hon?” Frances asked. “You can absolutely say no. We just thought we’d ask.”
A smile crept over his mouth. “No, I want to.”
“Alright then. You’d have to get your parents’ permission, though.”
Kyla watched him. “You said your dad was upset with me the other day. Do you think they’ll be okay with this?”
“I’ll make sure. And you said it would be on the weekends?”
“On the weekends to start,” Frances said.
“Okay. I’ll ask my mom tonight. I’m still confused, though. Why me?”
“Because you’re a good kid, we can tell,” Frances said. “And you might be a misunderstood kid because of the choices you’ve made lately. And sometimes it just takes some pride and responsibility to make a difference.”
Kyla smiled at that. She’d been given the same speech when she was his age. She’d never gotten herself into any trouble, but Frances had clearly seen that she was sliding into a dark place where she couldn’t be reached. So, she was offered a weekend job in the candy shop, too. And Frances was right. It had made all the difference.
“And bonus?” Kyla said. “All the Tootsie Pops you can eat.”
Hunter laughed, clearly encouraged by this.
“There’s one thing, though,” Frances said. “You’ll have to get your parents’ permission, okay?”
Looking confused, Hunter glanced at Kyla.
Her heart sank. She so wished that she could protect Frances from the cruelty of this memory loss. But that wasn’t how life worked. She couldn’t protect her. But she could love her through it.
She reached out and touched Hunter’s elbow. “It’s such a nice day, and I have to walk down to the pharmacy for a few things. Why don’t you walk with me, and I’ll give you a rundown about the shop and the kinds of things you might be doing here. If you have a few minutes?”
He nodded. “Sure.” Then turned to Frances. “’Bye.”
“’Bye, honey.”
Kyla followed him out the door and into the bright, sunny afternoon where the sea air felt like a caress against her skin. She put her hands in her jean pockets and turned to Hunter who was already watching her in anticipation. If he was going to work at Coastal Sweets, there were things he needed to know about Frances. Things that would teach him much more than simply working in a candy shop could.
She smiled at him, wanting this to work out. For him. For all of them.
“How much do you know about dementia?” she asked.