Her Second-Chance Family. Holly Jacobs
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“I don’t think she’s impressed,” Clinton said with typical dry humor.
“That’s because she hasn’t experienced one yet,” Audrey said with more optimism than she felt.
“You might not win her over, Aud,” he said softly. “You might have to concede to that someday.”
“It doesn’t matter. She needs us, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. Everyone needs someone. I was lucky that I had you to work for, to fight for. And now Willow’s got us, even if she doesn’t want us.”
Clinton was too old to hug much anymore, but he made an exception this once and squeezed her tight. He was taller than she was now.
“All we can do is try,” Clinton said with his old-man wisdom.
Audrey nodded. “Let’s make short work of dinner so we can get out to the beach in time for that sunset.”
* * *
A COUPLE HOURS LATER, she sat on a blanket, one arm wrapped around the very damp Bea, watching as the sun neared the edge of the horizon.
It had been a lovely evening. She’d even coaxed Willow into joining the family selfie. Now, if only she could get the girl to enjoy herself.
“Really, you guys, this isn’t a celebration, it’s a...” Willow started to complain again.
“Shh,” Bea said. “We’ll miss it.” Her teeth chattered as she pulled the towel more tightly around her.
Audrey still couldn’t believe that Bea had braved the lake. No one else would join her. Not even Clinton, and Bea could normally persuade him to do almost anything.
“Miss what?” Willow asked.
Bea’s teeth chattered as she said, “Audrey knows a lady who owns a chocolate shop in town. The lady says if you listen hard enough, sometimes you can hear the sun hiss when it hits the water.”
Willow scoffed. “Oh, come on...”
Audrey caught Clinton glaring at Willow, as if warning her against hurting Bea’s feelings. His look was enough to shut down Willow’s rant before it really started.
They all knew that logically they’d never hear the sun hit the water, but that didn’t stop them from trying every summer.
Slowly, the sun drew closer and closer to the distant horizon where Lake Erie met the sky. The clouds overhead parted just enough to allow a small band of color to show through. Tonight it was a brilliant pinkish orange.
Seconds later the sun sank below the horizon and disappeared, the color of the sky fading to a lavender blue.
Audrey let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Did anyone hear it?” Bea asked.
“Not this time,” Audrey said.
“Me, neither.” Clinton shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to try again next week.”
“How about you?” Audrey asked Willow.
The teenager shook her head. “Of course I didn’t. That’s really stupid.”
“Aud’s friend says when her son was little, they always listened,” Clinton admonished. “They thought they heard it once.”
Willow looked as if she was going to argue, but Audrey headed her off. “We all know it’s just a charming story, Willow. But like a favorite fairy tale, we enjoy it. We come out weekly during the summer to try and hear that hiss.”
Willow shook her head again. “You guys are really weird. Seriously, really weird.”
Rather than take offence, Clinton laughed. “You’ve only been here a few months. You don’t know the half of it.”
Willow gave them one more disgusted look, then stalked toward the car.
“She’s doing better,” Bea mused. “I thought she’d be meaner about the sunset.”
“Me, too,” Audrey admitted. “We’ll win her over eventually.”
“You’ll win her over,” Bea said. “You and Clinton. She just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be loved. I know I was little, but I didn’t know, either, until Clinton, then you.”
Audrey gathered up their blanket, then followed her family back to the car.
It was time to go home.
THE NEXT MORNING, Audrey woke up with a start. She was sweating and her breath came in fast, shallow gulps, as if she’d just run a race.
“Audrey, Audrey...” Someone was shaking her. She turned and saw Clinton staring down at her. He was pale and his expression was pinched with worry.
“You screamed this time,” he said. “You haven’t done that in a while.”
She scooted higher in the bed and leaned back against the pillow. “I’m so sorry I woke you up.”
He sat gingerly beside her. “Same dream?”
She nodded, though it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare—one she couldn’t escape.
One she shouldn’t escape.
It had to be the invitation to her reunion that had brought back the events of that awful night.
Audrey winced. She had a college degree and a job she loved. She owned her house. Well, along with the bank. And she had the family she’d always dreamed of.
She should be able to forget. She looked at Clinton.
No, never forget.
She just wished she could put the events of that night behind her. It had changed everything. That one moment had sent her life hurtling in a whole new direction.
She thought of Frost’s poem about two paths. At least the narrator had had a choice.
She took Clinton’s hand and he gave hers a squeeze.
She sometimes marveled at how many good things had also come from that one awful moment.
“Mom?” Bea called from the doorway. Most of the time, the kids called her Audrey, or even Aud, but on occasion Clinton and Bea called her Mom.
“Come on in, sweetie.” She patted the bed, and Bea took the invite, ran over and jumped in next to her. “So, basically, I woke up everyone?”
Bea snuggled close. “Yeah, but it’s okay. We’d have to get up soon, anyway. I started the coffee for you.”
“Wow, how did I get so lucky?” Audrey asked.
She heard the bathroom door slam down the hall.
“Not all that lucky,” Bea whispered. “You woke Willow up, too. She’s not happy about it.”
Clinton snorted. “She’s never happy.”
It had only been four months, Audrey reminded herself...again.
“Well, as long as we’re all up, let’s get our day started.” Audrey sat up in bed. “I’ve got to go into the office today for a meeting, so you guys are hanging out with Maggie May.”
“Are you going to hear about your project?” Clinton asked.
“Yes. I feel nervous every time I think about it.” She knew that even if the firm was awarded the project it wouldn’t be her project. She was too new, too young to be in charge, but it felt like hers.
She’d gone to work at Lebowitz Architecture expecting to do grunt work for years. But Mr. Lebowitz was a one-man firm, and because of that,