House on the Beach Page 21
It was the “Gramps” that made Bart look hard at his granddaughter. Her tender word for him, used only in times of unexpected emotion. Lila didn’t often comment on romantic love, but now her expression looked dreamy, as if she might actually believe in it. His granddaughter had loved only one boy in her life. And he had let her down.
He glanced at his friend, Sam, father of the boy who’d disappeared. A good man who’d lost too much family. A wife. A son. And then a living son whom he hadn’t seen for eight years. Bart shook his head, awed by how one person’s actions could affect so many. He sighed heavily, as he’d done so many times in the past. Jason Parker had simply vanished from their lives.
He leaned across the aisle. “Good morning, Sam.”
Sam Parker turned to greet his friend.
“We’ve got Sea View House rented starting tomorrow,” said Bart. “Both apartments. Did Matt tell you?”
Sam nodded. “We’ve moved Laura into our house, lock, stock and barrel. No problem there. She’s also selling her house in Boston. It’s been a real busy month. Everybody coming and going.”
“A wonderful thing, those two.”
Sam’s smile was of pure happiness, and Bart felt his own heart lighten. “One of my prayers has been answered,” said Sam. “I’m a lucky man.”
Bart glanced at Lila. He knew darn well what Sam’s second prayer was. But Bart had little faith about a happy outcome there. He changed the subject.
“There’ll be two new people in Sea View House for the busy season,” said Bart. “They each need the healing they might find there.”
“Who’s in The Crow’s Nest? Matt didn’t tell me any details.”
“Upstairs, we have Daniel Stone, hailing from California. A very sharp guy, but he’s hurting something fierce inside. However,” Bart added, “he’s not hurting in the pocketbook, so he’s paying full freight.”
“That’s fair,” said Sam. “You have to follow the rules of the William Adams Trust.”
“That’s what I said to myself,” replied Bart. “But downstairs…that’s another story. Her name is Shelley Anderson. She’s got two small kids and a serious problem with her ex-husband. I’m glad Daniel’s a strapping fellow and that Shelley’s not totally alone in the house.”
“Sounds like the ROMEOs should mosey on down there every so often,” said Sam.
Bart nodded. “I think the ROMEOs will be busy.”
Sam pointed to the stage. “Look, the children are about to start.”
Bart settled back in his seat, ready to enjoy himself.
LAURA MCCLOUD WAS NOT enjoying herself at all. She’d bitten both her thumbnails to the quick. No one had warned her that giving her heart to the children would be so…so…exhausting. Not physically, but emotionally. She glanced at Matt. How could he sit there smiling and chatting with people as though his two precious boys weren’t going to be front and center in a few minutes?
Casey, Casey, Casey. The child’s name echoed in her mind. He had to do well today. He just had to! Or else, what? She asked herself. Worst-case scenario? He’d be totally mortified. And that was definitely not an option.
“Would you relax,” said Matt for the third time. “He’ll be fine. He’s singing, and he’s great at that.”
“But there’s only two of them, not a whole chorus.”
Matt sighed, but wrapped his arm around her and squeezed. “You’re going to wear yourself out, sweetheart.”
“This motherhood thing is…”
“Is what?” prompted Matt, a line creasing his forehead.
“Is so important! It’s like I’m on a roller coaster. One minute life is smooth, and the next I’m a nervous wreck.” She considered herself an articulate person, but today that botched explanation was the best she could do.
“Things will settle down after the wedding and your permanent move to Pilgrim Cove.” His voice was calm and reassuring, but her thoughts were on Casey.
She felt Matt’s strong fingers massage her shoulder, the nape of her neck, and she allowed herself to relax. Lucky, lucky woman to have connected with Matt Parker. She rolled her head back, enjoying the pressure of his hands against her muscles.
“Show time,” said Matt.
Laura straightened up immediately, her eyes on the stage, her heart in her stomach.
The kindergarten and first grade sang “Yankee Doodle.”
“Okay,” Laura whispered when the smallest children were done. “Here we go.”
But it was the fourth grade, not the second grade, that followed with a skit about World War II and soldiers going off to war. They did the lindy hop and sang “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree.” Very adorable and appropriate, but Laura was on edge.
And then there was the fifth grade, and Brian as…Paul Revere! “I thought he wanted to be John Adams,” Laura whispered to Matt.
“And Benjamin Franklin. Then he decided that Paul had all the action!”
Verses of the famous Longfellow poem, recreating Revere’s midnight ride, were recited as Brian and his classmates acted out the revolutionary story. And then Brian put a small drum around his neck and tapped out a marching rhythm. The high notes of a piccolo sounded and there was little Casey, on stage with his big brother, the beginning of a fife-and-drum corps. Other children joined the drumming and fluting until about ten kids of different ages were playing altogether. In unison.
“Amazing,” said Laura, allowing herself to smile for the first time.
“They picked the musical ones,” said Matt. “It comes easier to some than to others.”
Laura glanced at him. “It comes easy to the Parkers, you mean.”
“Only the gift. Perfecting it takes work.”
“The boys practiced?”
“Every day.” He leaned in and kissed her. “You’ve been running back and forth so much between the Boston house and Sea View House, you didn’t notice.”
She had noticed sometimes. “But I thought they were just making noise.”
Matt laughed. “Be glad they’re not playing violin.”
The third grade went next with two poems commemorating the Civil War and World War I.
And only the second grade was left. Casey’s grade.
Laura watched the entire class line up on stage and face the audience. Casey and Katie stood side by side in the center of the first row. They stepped forward and looked at the pianist, who nodded. And they began to sing. “‘Oh, beautiful for spacious skies…”’
The sound of angels. Laura felt tears well. Any child who could sing like that…surely she could find more ways to help his speech along. She glanced at Matt, but his eyes were only on his son. Eyes that looked awfully shiny to her.
He reached for her hand and pressed it gently, then leaned close to her and whispered, “I love you so much, Laura. We all do. Thanks for loving us back and for just being you.”
Her tears flowed and she bowed her head. Love surrounded her. Life flowed through her. She couldn’t ask for more.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-1143-8
THE HOUSE ON THE BEACH
Copyright © 2004 by Linda Barrett.
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