Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins
Chapter 12
This wasn’t going to be easy. Allie knew that. She was about to have the conversation she’d been dreading for years, but even she had to admit that she should have had it long ago.
Allie stood at the entrance to the beach, taking in the hubbub of excitement going on near the shore as campers rushed to and fro. A small crew was erecting Easter-themed decorations, just as another was busy back at the resort. There were banners, streamers, bunnies, and giant pastel-colored eggs everywhere. Easter was the coming weekend, and there were posters promising activities and events that Allie was sure the kids would enjoy.
She could see Daria out on the water with another kid in a two-person kayak—maybe a bit farther out than she’d have liked. She swallowed her anxiety, reminding herself that the camp was well organized, and trainers milled around, looking as if they had everything under control.
“Heyyyy!” Sadie sidled up to her, grinning cheekily. She was wearing the broadest straw hat Allie had ever seen. It could give Audrey Hepburn a run for her money. Even so, her red freckled face looked redder and even more freckled than it had when she’d seen her at roll call this morning.
Allie smiled her welcome as her new friend stood beside her. A few other parents were scattered around, waiting for the end of the session to collect their little darlings.
“How was your lunch date?” Sadie asked with a smirk.
Allie denied defensively. “It wasn’t a date. It was just lunch… with an old friend.” Even as that line of crap left her mouth, Allie knew there was no way in hell that Sadie was buying it.
“Uh huh. I’d say you two were real good friends. Like… ten years ago!’
Ugh. Allie thought. So… so busted. She made a face. “Lunch was okay, I guess.”
Sadie was immediately concerned. “Then why the long face, pooch?”
She shook her head. She was reluctant to explain the conversation she had to have with Daria now; she didn’t need someone else confirming her knowledge that what she had done to Sam had sucked.
In unspoken agreement, they began walking closer to the camp. Charlie Brown was there, kitted out in his senior counsellor’s uniform, feet planted wide apart in the white sand, balled fists on hips, tearing a little camper a new one.
His voice cut across the bay without benefit of a loudspeaker. “Frederick! Frederick!”
A kid of about eight or nine turned around. He froze comically, mid-step, one foot literally stretched before him, eying Charlie guardedly.
“Did your mama drop you on your head when you were little?”
The kid shook his head so vehemently that Allie was sure his teeth were rattling around like dice in a cup.
“Then why isn’t your life jacket done up straight? Top strap goes into top loop. I’ve told you three times today. Is that hard?”
The kid’s eyes bugged, as if he wasn’t sure whether that was a trick question. Despite her inner turmoil, Allie had to put her hand up to hide a smile.
In the absence of an answer, Charlie had a recommendation. “Then fix it, boy! You look like you got dressed in the dark!” Then he added, a little more gently. “The sea is a dangerous place, son. You gotta play by the rules. You do your life jacket up wrong and it comes off out there, your dogs are dead! Understand?”
Poor Frederick paled, obviously unable to recognize that Charlie was speaking metaphorically.
Sadie chuckled. “That Uncle Charlie is a character.”
“Tell me about it,” Allie agreed, “but don’t let his guff fool you. He’s a pussycat.”
Charlie’s ears must have burned because he spotted them and walked over. “Miss Sadie, Allie. How you ladies doing? Getting some sun?”
The two women murmured something, and then Charlie said, “Lauren’s doing great. She threw up once from the kayak, but she rebounded like a champ.”
Sadie beamed. “Good to hear.”
He turned to Allie. “Daria… she’s a natural. She takes to the water like a sea lion.”
“Swim team,” Allie said, trying not to sound boastful.
“So she tells me.” He nodded approvingly. “You did a good job.”
Allie got the impression he was talking not just about the mermaid-in-training that she’d spawned, but it was also clear that he knew she’d spoken to Sam.
Oblivious to the subtext, Sadie was waving the girls over, who bounded across to them like puppies let out of a cage.
“Mom!” Daria yelled. “We got put into teams! There’s the Pirates, the Buccaneers, and the Scallywags. I’m a Scallywag!”
“I’m a Buccaneer. But I’d much rather be on the same team with Daria,” Lauren said mournfully.
Sadie consoled her. “Well, at least you can spend all the time you like together after camp. What about going out for pizza? I hear there’s a good shopping center just down the road. Maybe we could—”
Regretfully, Allie nipped the resulting scream-fest in the bud, gathering Daria to her almost protectively. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to take a raincheck. I need to talk to Daria first.”
“Noooo!” Lauren protested.
Daria looked at her questioningly. “You do?”
Allie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The two other adults exchanged knowing looks, and Allie had to choke down the feeling of resentment that her dilemma was so apparent to them.
Smiling that Charlie smile, he reached out and tousled Daria’s flyaway hair. “See you tomorrow, Scallywag. And get some rest tonight. We’re diving for treasure in the morning.”
“What kind of treasure?” she demanded eagerly.
He winked. “When you see it, you’ll know.”
As the others faded away, Allie linked her arm in Daria’s and they began walking in the opposite direction, away from the resort. Daria was quiet for a long time, and then asked tremulously, “Am I in trouble?”
“What? No!” God, Allie thought. I’m ruining this before I’ve even begun. Spotting a low sea wall, she gestured. “Let’s sit here, okay?”
They sat, looking way down the beach to the place where the clubhouse was rapidly clearing as kids returned to their cabins or homes outside of the resort. They could see the marker buoys bobbing on the waves, the small fishing pirogues drawn up above the tide, and the kayaks stacked beyond them.
So peaceful. So tranquil. And yet Allie’s mind, body, and spirit were in turmoil.
“Mom?” Daria sounded anxious, as if she was scared she’d screwed up somehow and was about to get yelled at.
Rip off the Band-Aid,Allie decided. “Daria? Honey? Remember the guy I was taking to by the pool that evening? The one in the suit?”
“The tall one?”
“Yeah. Well… I knew him from before. From the last time I was here.”
“When you did Carnival.”
“Yes. I didn’t know he owned this resort….” Or I damn well wouldn’t have picked it. “But I… knew him.”
“Soo… he’s… your friend?” Daria was puzzled, still wondering what was going on. When the hammer was going to fall.
“He’s your dad.”
Dead silence. Blank stare.
Allie tried again. “He’s your father, Daria. The last time I was here, we fell in love. And we—”
Daria struggled to process the information, scrunching her face in concentration. “That’s him? The guy with the…,” she faltered as understanding dawned, “green eyes?”
Allie nodded. Her throat resisted her efforts to say more.
Daria hopped up and spun to face her mother. “Oh, my God, Mom! We have to go! We can’t stay here!”
“What?”
“I don’t want to live near him. He’s an awful, awful man! He never wanted me. He never wanted to see me. He never even said hello! Oh, I hate him! I hate him!”
It took Allie several seconds to understand that Daria had assumed that it was Sam who had denied her. She rushed to clear the air. “No, baby, that’s not right. He didn’t reject you. He never said he didn’t want you—”
“Then why didn’t he say something? Didn’t he know we were coming?”
This is going to kill her,Allie knew. It’s going to rip her heart out. “He didn’t say hello because he didn’t know.”
She frowned, thrown for a loop. “Didn’t know it was me?”
“Didn’t know I was pregnant….”
Daria screamed with shocking force and intensity. “Auggh! You had me… you had me and didn’t tell him? I was sick all that time, and you never told him?”
Allie shook her head in mute shame.
“And you never told me I had a dad! All these years, I’ve asked you and asked you and asked… and you never said a word. All my life, I’ve grown up, not even knowing who half of me was. How could you do this?”
If there was anything she could do to undo that folly, Allie thought, she would. But time was etched in stone. You couldn’t turn it back. “I’m sorry, baby. I was young. I made a mistake.” She reached for Daria to embrace her, but she was nimble, eel-slippery, and dodged her with ease.
“No!” Daria commanded, legs apart, hand held out, gesturing her to come no closer. “You lying… mean… liar! You’re awful.”
“I didn’t mean….”
But Daria was streaking off down the beach, back in the direction they’d come from. Moving way too fast for Allie ever to catch up. Damn those long, powerful Drummond legs.
Miserably, Allie followed, contented only to keep Daria within sight. All the way to the cabin, where the red-faced little girl bristled, infuriated by the fact that she didn’t have her key to let herself in, and had to wait on her mother. She folded her arms, hugging herself, and looked everywhere but at Allie as she slid in the key card.
The moment the door was open, Daria shoved past, rushing into her room and slamming the door.
I deserved that,Allie thought miserably. I’ve screwed this up. I’ve screwed everything up.
The miserable silence endured for almost two hours, and all the while, Allie hovered, buzzing around in the living room, thumbing through magazines, not wanting to be alone in her bedroom.
Daria’s door opened again.
Allie spun around to face her anxiously, aching for her child to fall into her arms and say she’d forgiven her.
Daria’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, but the storm was far from passed. With tremendous dignity, which would have seemed almost comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire, she said, “I spoke to Lauren. She’s invited me over for dinner and a movie.”
Allie guessed it was as good a place for her as any. Being with her friend might even help her to feel better.
Then Daria added, “And I’m going, Allison.”
The usual maternal responses sprung to Allie’s lips: Don’t you dare speak to me like that, young lady, or, You go when and where I say you go… but the anguish she’d caused was so palpable that there was no way she could respond other than with a weak, grieving nod.
Daria stomped out of the cabin.