The Girl of Sand & Fog Read online

  Both situations are no bueno.

  I sink down onto the chair closest to Zoe. “Do you know what you’re going to order?”

  Zoe shakes her head. “Everything looks really good. I’ve been watching the trays when the waitresses go by.”

  “I wouldn’t take you anyplace you’d be unhappy, Zoe,” Jake assures her and she beams. “I know what you like and it’s all good here.”

  He quickly shifts his eyes to me to see if I’m going to zap him again. Bobby’s right. I need to let up. Jake has been really sweet to Zoe all day.

  They start talking softly to each other. I watch for a second, smiling, then bury my nose in my menu, settling my hand on my guy’s thigh.

  My guy.

  I shift my gaze to Caroline. She’s leaning into Bobby as if Seth isn’t even here, and her flirtatious obviousness is definitely annoying. Why doesn’t she give up and leave us alone? I resolve to ignore her.

  We order our food and by the end of dinner we’re all laughing. Longboards is hopping now that the live band is on stage, and the atmosphere around the table is more festive since Caroline hit the floor alone to throw some shapes to work off the calories of that lame, tiny dinner salad which comprised her entire meal.

  Yep, Zoe’s right. She’s nothing but a plastic fembot. I don’t know why I let her get under my skin. I hate girls who pretend they don’t eat, toss their hair, and preen and strut for every guy who looks at them.

  Zoe and I stare at her, smirking. She’s all over the floor, trying her damnedest to be sexy, but it’s not working. Seth isn’t even paying attention to her since the second she left us he wandered off to chat up some girl at the bar—though I doubt Seth is her target with this performance—and Bobby has been in deep conversation with Jake from the moment she left the table.

  Frowning, I try to work my way into their discussion. They’re trying to decide something but I can’t quite figure out what it is.

  Zoe points a finger at her mouth, as if gagging. “Can she be any more nauseating?”

  “That girl has got no moves,” I say, and we both start pulsing in rhythm in our chairs since there is a nice thumping bass line rocking the room.

  Zoe’s eyes widen. “Do you want to hit the floor and show her how it’s done?”

  It’s not crowded, there’s lots of space, and I’m a pretty good dancer. Still—

  I shake my head, nestling into Bobby’s side. “I’m ready to go back to the house. Aren’t you? If we slip out quietly maybe she won’t notice and follow. Why don’t we leave?”

  Zoe shakes her head. “Not yet. It’s early. It’s Saturday night. It’s our last night here.”

  Bobby buries his lips in my hair. “So what do you think? Snowboarding? Over winter break?”

  What?

  Snowboarding?

  My eyes lock on Zoe’s and we explode with laugher.

  The guys frown, watching.

  “What’s so funny?” Bobby asks, studying me quizzically.

  Zoe and I only laugh harder. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket again. Crap, obsess much, Chrissie? Fourth time since I sat down for dinner.

  Damn.

  I’m having fun.

  I don’t want to call home.

  I sigh, tossing my napkin on the table, and stand. “I’ve got to go call my mom. She’s not going to let up tonight until I do. I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t be long,” Bobby murmurs sweetly.

  “Never.” I lean in to him for a fast kiss. Smiling, I look across the table at Zoe. “Want to come with me?”

  She shakes her head and sinks closer into Jake. “No, we ordered dessert. I want to be here when it arrives.”

  “Fine, be that way.”

  Zoe widens her eyes. “I will.”

  I bury a smile. Confident Zoe. Happy Zoe. I like this version even better. Yep, I was wrong. Jake is good for her.

  I hurry across the crowded room and out the front door. A cold blast of foggy night air hits me. Rubbing my arm with one hand, I fish in my pocket for my cell as I sink down on the bench by the restaurant entrance.

  The screen lights up with another annoying message.

  Frowning, I stare.

  Fuck, what is this?

  Yahoo breaking news—

  My heart drops.

  I scroll through them, frantically reading.

  Notifications from my news alert setting.

  Icy pricks run the surface of my flesh as I read the brief news blurbs. Oh God. Why doesn’t it say if he’s all right?

  I swipe open my phone and hit my browser. Google search: Alan Manzone. I click on a link. No. No. No. Car accident. Hospital in the UK. Status and location unknown.

  I rapidly click on more stories. Fuck, just the same uninformative press release. Over and over again. Why the hell doesn’t someone say if Alan is all right?

  Leaning forward, I hug my stomach, trying to still my spinning world. I don’t know what to do. I’m shaking and I can’t pull in air.

  Do I call Chrissie?

  She must be out of her mind.

  I check my voice mail.

  Nothing from Mom.

  I hit the callback button on Chrissie’s last message.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  Voice mail.

  Fuck.

  I click off the phone.

  I feel frazzled, disoriented, and helpless.

  Even if I knew what hospital Alan was in, the nurses wouldn’t talk to me if I called. I’m not family. My stomach churns painfully and tears start streaming down my cheeks. My dad could be dying, and no one, not even my mom, called me…

  The heavy wood door opens and I look to find Zoe closing in on me. But I can’t move. I’m numb.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asks, exaggerated and feigning exasperation. “You’ve been gone forever. You better have a good excuse—” Her eyes widen and her mouth stills in a wide O. “What’s wrong, Kaley? Why are you crying?”

  I shake my head. Crying? I wipe at my cheeks and feel the moisture. Crap, I didn’t even feel the tears.

  Zoe drops down on the bench beside me and slips an arm around me. “Did Caroline do something? Don’t tell me you two mixed it up again. I swear I’m going to rip off her face—”

  “Get Bobby now.”

  Her expression changes into one of alarm. “Kaley, what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.”

  I show her my phone. “It’s my dad. Will you go get Bobby? Now.”

  She springs to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  She darts back into the restaurant and I start rummaging through the news on my phone. New links keep appearing but they don’t say anything.

  The restaurant door bursts wide and Bobby hurries to me with Zoe and Jake following close behind.

  He sinks down in front of me, crouching in the space between my legs. “Kaley, are you OK?”

  I lift my stricken eyes to him, holding out my phone. A frown appears, lowering and lowering as he read. “Oh fuck. Baby, you need to calm down. It’s probably nothing.”

  He slips his arms around my shaking body.

  I curl into Bobby’s chest so he can hold me tighter. “It’s not nothing. It says he’s in a hospital. That’s not nothing.”

  He continues to read. “He’s fine. I’m sure of it.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps through screens, shaking his head. “I’ve got nothing from my mom. If it was something, my mom would have called. Linda didn’t call, Kaley. That should tell you everything. Everything is all right.”

  The adrenaline the alerts sent pumping through my veins has left only panic in its wake. Bobby sounds so calm. So certain. And yet the numbing fear won’t subside.

  “I tried to call my mom. Chrissie didn’t answer.”

  Bobby brushes the hair back from my face. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Call Linda. Please, Bobby. She’ll know what’s happening and I won’t be able to breathe until I know for sure.”

  He kisses me o
n the forehead. “I’ll call. But you need to stop worrying.”

  He eases back from me, taps the screen and then holds the phone to his ear. Jake and Zoe huddle close to me as we all watch Bobby.

  Jake gently pats my back. “It’s going to be OK, Kaley. We’re all here for you. You just lean on me as much as you need to.”

  The way he says that makes me cry harder and I sink into him, ashamed that I’ve been so rotten to him all day—because he is kind to Zoe and he’s being a really good friend to me right now—and I didn’t realize before today that if something happened to Alan I couldn’t take that. I’ve been so obsessed with my anger I’d forgotten that I love him.

  I’ve always loved Alan.

  Please let him be all right.

  Somehow my insides grow even more jumpy.

  The seconds pass in agonizing slowness. Bobby’s pacing, running his fingers through his hair as he waits for the call to be answered. It can’t be a good sign if Linda doesn’t answer her phone either—

  Jake’s arm tightens around me.

  “Mom,” Bobby says impatiently in a way that tells me he’s just cut her off. My face snaps up. “I just saw the news about Alan. Is everything all right?”

  I can hear Linda’s voice but I can’t make out the words. All Bobby keeps saying is Aha, aha, aha.

  “OK. See you tomorrow,” Bobby mumbles.

  I leap from the bench and cross the pavement to him. “What did she say?”

  “He’s fine,” Bobby says softly, pulling me into his arms and holding me. “It was his car. There was an accident, but he wasn’t in it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I mutter. I’m suffocating, fear and heartache have made it impossible for my brain function. “Why would the press reports say he was in a hospital?”

  “It’s breaking news, Kaley. When a story moves fast, the press gets it wrong sometimes.” He gently strokes my hair. “Alan’s fine. Linda wouldn’t say he was if he wasn’t. He’s not even in the UK. Please, baby, don’t cry. He’s fine.”

  Too much is coursing through me. I wrap my arms around him, the force of my relief robbing my body of strength, and I softly weep into his neck. Everything loving Bobby has quieted inside me is no longer quiet. I can’t contain it. I’m inside an avalanche of emotion, moments of the past and present unleashed in my memory, old fears and forgotten hurts making fresh wounds inside me.

  “It’s all right, Kaley,” Bobby murmurs soothingly, his lips moving in my curls. “Please, stop crying. He’s fine.”

  I can’t will the tears away because it’s not all right. And it won’t ever be. Not until I come face-to-face with Alan and get the truth from him finally. Until he says I am his daughter, nothing inside me will ever be complete. Until I know why my parents lied, what happened, it will eat at me in ways small and large forever.

  Bobby can’t take away this pain in me. No amount of love can make this right. And as wonderful as Bobby is, loving him will never be enough to make me whole.

  * * *

  I sit on a patio lounger, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the ocean.

  I hear the door open and turn my face to find Bobby groggy and staring out at me. “Kaley, it’s the middle of the night. It’s freezing. What are you doing out here?”

  “Just thinking.”

  He crosses the space between us, eases my body forward, and sinks down on the lounger behind me. He surrounds me with his legs and arms, and I lean back into him.

  “Are you still upset?”

  I shake my head.

  “Then what’s going on?” he asks.

  A faint hint of worry is in his voice this time.

  I can feel him watching me, waiting.

  I don’t want to wall him out, not now when we’ve grown so incredibly close, but I’m not sure I can organize my thoughts and feelings into something he’d understand. Something that would be safe to share with him.

  “You’ve been quiet since we got back to the house,” he prods patiently.

  “I’ve just been thinking about a lot of stuff.”

  His hands start to lightly caress up and down my arms. “What kind of stuff? Talk to me, Kaley. You should be able to tell me anything. We’re both in this, deep.”

  I look over my shoulder, arching a brow at him. “Deep, huh?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Serious moment. Nasty comment, huh? Don’t try to change the subject. Tell me what’s going on. I love all of you. Not just”—he tickles briefly atop my panties—“here.”

  “But it’s your favorite part,” I taunt.

  “No. Your heart is. All other parts of you are useless without your heart.”

  I nestle into his chest. “You’re a pretty amazing guy, Bobby. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to have you.”

  He gently makes us sway in a comforting motion. “Am I amazing enough that you’ll trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you?”

  I can hear him breathing, steady and patiently as he waits for me. I sigh. He’s right. After this week, I should be able to share anything with him. I don’t know why I’m being emotionally wimpy in this.

  “Can I ask you something first?” I whisper.

  His chest shimmies in a silent laugh. “You can ask me anything. Haven’t you figured that out yet? I’m an open book when it comes to you.”

  “It’s just—” I fumble for a moment.

  He leans in so he can see my face. “Yes?”

  “You’re eighteen. You talk a lot about taking off. But you don’t talk about why. And you never talk about your birth parents.”

  “No, I don’t. They’re not relevant to my life.”

  I turn in the chair to face him.

  “How can you say that? Don’t you have questions? Haven’t you even thought about unsealing your adoption record? Finding your birth parents? Don’t you want to know who they are and why they gave you up?”

  The expression in his eyes changes and I can tell this was not the conversation he was expecting to have with me tonight.

  He studies me for a moment, trying to assess where I’m going with this, then exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair.

  “I thought about it once. For about a half second, and then I realized whatever questions I have, the answers wouldn’t be about me. What happened in the past is about them. And I don’t need to know it. I don’t even want to.”

  My eyes widen. “Not at all?”

  He meets my eyes squarely. “Nope, not at all.” He frowns. “Why are we talking about this?”

  I settle back against his body and stare at the ocean. “I hate having questions. Not knowing the truth. Wondering what it is about me that—”

  I pause.

  “That what, Kaley?”

  I groan. “I don’t know if I can explain this.”

  “Just try. I can’t know what’s going on with you unless you tell me. And there isn’t anything about you that I don’t want to know.”

  The way he says that is as soothing as his touch. I’m wrapped in his arms, surrounded by love. A small part of me feels calmer, stronger, and resilient enough to share this. To tell him the hurts locked in the vault of my heart that I’ve never told anyone.

  “When I was little I used to come here with Neil. A lot. I didn’t remember the vacations were here before we went to the Boardwalk and everything was familiar. But Neil used to bring me here with my aunts and my cousins from his side of the family. We’d have long Stanton family weekends. They were so fun. The grown-ups would barbecue and they’d hang out on the patio all through the night, laughing and talking so fast I couldn’t keep up. And everyone spoiled me, especially Grandma Michelle, because I was the only grandchild.”

  He lays his chin on my shoulder, cuddling me closer. “Those sound like happy memories. Why are you sad telling me about it?”

  I take in a deep breath to steady my spinning emotions.

  “Because when Neil died they all just disappeared. I never saw any of them again. Not even Grandma Miche
lle. It used to hurt so much wondering what was wrong with me that everyone I loved just disappeared. And then when I got old enough to figure out why, I knew it was because Neil wasn’t my dad. That I was nothing to them. But it still hurt and I can’t ever completely stop wondering what’s wrong with me that they could all just disappear.”

  “Oh, Kaley, nothing is wrong with you,” he exclaims tenderly, turning me in his arms and painting tender kisses across my face. “Whatever happened, that’s about them. Not you. How could you think it could ever be about you? You were a little girl. It’s not about you.”

  The heavy emotion between us is nearly too much. “You disappeared.”

  His brows shoot up. “What are you talking about?”

  “When we were little. You were like practically my only friend and you went away, too.”

  Bobby pouts in sympathy and makes a cocoon of his body around me. “I was eight. It doesn’t count.”

  “It did to me. First the Stantons. Then Alan left Mom and me. Then you. Everyone I loved just disappeared in a single year. And I used to cry and wonder what’s wrong with me.”

  A ragged breath escapes Bobby’s chest. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not about you. It’s about them. I wish I could make you believe that.”

  I rub my hand against my dripping nose. “It makes me so afraid sometimes. How much I love you. I don’t know if I could take losing someone I love again.”

  “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, lying back and taking me with him until I’m nestled on his chest. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not ever going to disappear. I’ll always be here, Kaley. Haven’t you figure out yet that I love you?”

  CHAPTER 15

  Six weeks later

  I glide slowly up Bobby’s erection, rocking my hips before I plant my hands on his chest and freeze. Every glorious muscle of his body quakes.

  I stare down at him, his face taut as he struggles to hold back, and I battle not to move. I love to tease and taunt and battle him with my body. His hips flex upward into me as his fingers close on my hips.

  “Don’t move,” I warn. “If you move I’ll stop.”

  His eyes float open. “You won’t stop.”

  “How can you be sure?” I ask, my voice breathy and betraying.