Oh, no, the back door is open.Not the outer screen door, but the heavy wooden inner one. Could she have possibly reached up and opened it with her little hands? She was playing behind me on the kitchen floor just seconds ago.Wouldn’t I hear the door creaking open?
I threw open the screen door, shading my eyes against the setting sun, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy to match my terrified heart. A thousand horrifying scenarios ripped through my mind, each darker than the last. Sharp rocks, deadly poisonous plants, strangers dressed in black-
“Bree!” I dashed over the sand toward the beach, leaped over a pair of scraggly bushes and scooped up my adventurous toddler. “Heavens, Bree, you can’t do that to Mommy,” I half-sobbed into her curly hair, hugging her tightly against my chest.
Her tiny mouth turned down, and her eyes began to pucker. “No, no, Bree, baby, it’s okay. Mommy’s okay. We just can’t go near the ocean, okay?”
“Why?” Her big round eyes showed her innocence as she asked that question that every two-and-a-half year old used to learn about the world around them.
“The ocean is bad here, honey,” I explained, feeling Bree’s steady heartbeat calm my own. “I’ll take you to the good ocean sometime. Does that sound fun?” I carried her into the house and set her down next to her toys, careful to shut and lock both doors this time.
“Yeah.” Her little voice spoke absent-mindedly. I could tell Bree’s attention had already wandered back to her toys.
I finished the dishes and sat down on my old worn couch with a glass of wine. The TV was on, but I couldn’t look away from my baby girl. If something had happened to her…
I combed my fingers through my hair, shooting a glance at my phone. I loved this three-bedroom clapboard house with cyan blue siding, wooden shutters, and whitewashed porch and windows. Inside and outside, the place had wonderful character, and it had inspired many of my favorite poems. It had been perfect for a single woman, and I was thrilled the monthly rent was reasonable - perfect for my budget.
Unfortunately, now that I was a single mother, dangers lurked around my quaint house that I had never thought about before. The house had a decent little grass yard for a child to play on, but no fence. If Bree played outside, I was always right there with her, playing with her or sipping a drink and watching carefully to make sure that this exact incident never happened. The beach along this section of the coast was known to have rough surf, which wouldn’t be a problem for an adult, but a little child could easily get swept off her feet by the breaking waves.
My eyes left my phone and returned to Bree. I had been considering calling the landlord again and asking if we could work out a deal for fencing in the backyard, but I doubted it would help. He was a fair man, but he had told me before that he felt fencing would ruin the home’s historic appeal. It certainly made no sense for me to shell out that much money myself, not for a rented house, and I didn’t have that kind of money to spare after delving into my savings to replace the tires slashed two weeks ago.
When I told Payton I wished I had a fence, she had asked me why I didn’t go ahead and look for a new place. The answer was simple. I had just signed a new lease, so I had about another year in this house before I could look for somewhere more kid-friendly. Finding someone to take over my lease might be doable, but I didn’t know if I could find a place that fit my budget that was close enough to work and Bree’s daycare. Moving would add a lot of stress to an already difficult time for me, and I didn’t want to deal with that right now. I would just have to hope that the tires were an isolated incident and keep a very, very close eye on Bree.
I knew I shouldn’t have anything to worry about this evening, at least. Knowing my lingering discomfort with being alone in my house, Payton had suggested that we have a wine and movie evening this Saturday while the kids played, then she would stay over in the guest room. I had agreed wholeheartedly, and since today was that very Saturday, I could expect to hear tires on my gravel driveway any second now.
Sure enough, I hardly made it halfway through my glass before gravel crunched outside, and a rumbling engine became silent. I peeked through the window to make sure the vehicle was my friend’s little black truck, then opened the door with a welcoming smile.
Payton’s son Michael toddled over the gravel to greet me as soon as my best friend lifted him from his car seat and set him on the ground. I hoisted him onto my hip, taking care not to make him drop his sippy cup. “Hey, buddy!”
Michael didn’t look at me, preferring to glance around from his high vantage point in my arms.
“New clothes?” I asked Payton, giving Michael’s tiny shirt an affectionate tug.
“Just a few,” she said, the truck’s door squeaking as she closed it and locked the vehicle. “He’s growing so fast! Most of his other ones are too tight.”
“You’re getting big and strong!” I exclaimed, accompanying Payton into the house. I set Michael down, and he looked at Bree with big eyes. “That’s Bree, remember? Hi, Bree!” I waved at her, and right on cue, both kids mimicked me and waved at each other. The ice broken, they set down with a toy boat set and a blue towel that could pass for the ocean with a child’s imagination.
“All right. Time for the adults to figure out some dinner,” I suggested. Payton and I headed into the kitchen, where we made a wonderful gourmet meal that would fill any chef with pride – baked potatoes, salmon and broccoli. Okay, maybe not gourmet, but delicious, nutritious and more than deserving of a second portion.
After some consideration, we settled on a comedy for our movie night. I hadn’t seen it before – or even heard of it, actually, since I didn’t watch movies all that often – but Payton told me it was a funny one and I trusted her judgment. Besides, it quickly became apparent that not even a movie could silence our friendly chatter.
“So, you haven’t really told me much about your mini-vacation,” Payton reminded me, topping off our wine glasses and checking the locks on the doors before coming to join me on the couch.
I took my glass, suddenly intently focused on the opening credits. “Uh…yeah, I know. It was nice, mostly. I spent a lot of time on the beach, played with the dog and read a lot.”
“You said the dog got out once, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
Payton moved her attention from the movie to me. “So, what happened? I know something happened to your car just a couple weeks ago, but you’ve seemed a little off lately. Bree is doing fine, so it has to be work or that housesitting job. Or your ex,” she remarked thoughtfully.
“I haven’t heard from him in several months,” I told Payton, the familiar sense of betrayal shooting through my chest. Bree’s father, a man who was as handsome as he was manipulative, had wanted less and less to do with Bree or me after he learned I was pregnant Even so, and even though I knew what kind of man Oscar was, I had been so afraid of the prospect of raising a child alone that I had tried to make things work, for a little while.
Making things work had meant I had to be there for Oscar whenever he wanted me, accept that he would never be there for me. It meant I had to take whatever he offered without asking for anything more. It also meant I had to abandon my self-esteem and let a man who didn’t care about me or my daughter dictate my life.
So, I had given up and distanced myself from Oscar. Finally, I came to my senses with the help of my boss Devon and sued for child support when he refused his responsibility to our daughter and gone on with my life. I had come to the conclusion that Bree might grow up with no father figure. Really, I didn’t want that, but it would be better than raising Bree anywhere near her father. But I still heard from Oscar from time to time, and thankfully his child support check came in the mail.
The last time he had called, Oscar was…sweet, polite, and even caring. It had been a complete character swap, and I hadn’t trusted a single thing he had to say…even when he said the things I wanted to hear most. Like, he had missed me and Bree… he wanted to come back to the Hamptons and be a good father to his daughter. And most of all, he wanted to give our relationship a second chance.
