Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins

Chapter 24

Allie slumped forward, fighting back her tears. That did not go well. She put her hands to her face, feeling the heat there, feeling her eyes burning. The rain was slashing sideways, coming onto the porch and leaving a pattern of dark blotches on the terracotta tiles, splashing her legs.

She stepped back, pressing against the wall on the other side, not ready to go indoors again yet. The cool air would help her ground herself, surely. It was a shame the weather was so bad; she’d begun to look forward to enjoying the night air on the resort, with the smell of perfumed flowers and the cawing of the night birds.

What a mess. What an awful, freaking mess. She’d been happy to see Sam at the door, despite the convictions she’d had earlier, but anxiety had immediately overtaken her. She’d known what she’d had to say to him and had said it.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was that he would make the offer he had. So far, all she was thinking of was what would be happening in a week, when Daria was to be parted from her father again. Allie had never expected Sam to step in and ask them to stay, long term. She knew he had the resources, but, God help her, it hadn’t crossed her mind for even a second to ask him to use any of those resources on her and her daughter.

And when he had, why had she become so angry? She’d completely lost it, she knew that. Lashed out at him when surely he was only trying to help.

He’d accused her of being jealous; yeah, that had stung. Mainly because he was right. Ever since that first morning that Sam and Daria had spent together, she’d sensed the two had immediately bonded, and while she rejoiced that the encounter she’d been dreading for ten years had turned out better than anything she could ever have dreamed, all she could think was, What about me?

That didn’t make her a bad person, did it?

Sam’s generous offer filtered back into her consciousness. He was perfectly capable of following through; to provide them with a home, Daria with top-class schooling, and her with the chance to fulfil her dream of becoming a chef, rather than a short-order cook switching from gig to gig. Wasn’t that what she had always wanted?

Daria could have a dad. And she could have a… what?

She knew in her heart that her accusation towards Sam had been mean and unfounded; Sam was not a man who would leverage his money to gain her affection or her sexual services. She would not be, as he had said, a concubine.

But if she stayed—and it was still a big if—what would things be like between the two of them? Their week together had been idyllic, but it was the nature of idylls that they came to an end.

They’d laughed and shared stories and meals, and made love, lazily sometimes, and intensely sometimes. And every afternoon when camp was closing for the day and she had to leave that cabin and find her way back down to the beach, it was as if she had to wrench herself away from their little dream bubble. As if she were a dog trying to get past an electric fence, and to do so entailed a painful shock.

Whenever Sam could get away from work on evenings, she and Daria had enjoyed a few hours with him, maybe a quick dinner, a drive along the coast, or a short walk. In those moments, Allie had begun to feel like they were a family. Maybe Daria and Sam had felt it, too.

She had also begun to struggle with the illusion that she and Sam were a couple, a bonded pair. Which was ridiculous because good sex didn’t mean you were any such thing. And it was hard, given the kind of lover Sam was, for her to examine and identify each element of what she was feeling for him. It certainly wasn’t that goo-goo gaga crush she’d once had on the skinny young soca singer with the sun-kissed dreadlocks. This was deep and wide and real. It came from somewhere buried within her soul.

It felt like love.

And that made him dangerous.

Allie glanced in the direction of Daria’s bedroom. She knew that her idea of cutting and running was not only stupid; it was harsh. She could only imagine her daughter’s reaction if she tried to tear her away from the other Scallywags, Lauren, and Uncle Charlie. No matter how messed up she was, she could never do that to her baby.

But what would Daria say if she knew about Sam’s offer? Allie didn’t doubt, even for a second, that she would leap at the chance. What, stay indefinitely in a tropical paradise, with the beach on one side and her new daddy on the other? Start a new life, go to a fancy new school, make new friends? Daria would be over the moon.

Allie cringed at the thought, but her sense of fair play won out. Since that terrifying moment when she had first peed on a stick and watched the two prophetic lines appear, she’d known that she and her child were in this together, and that her choices were no longer her own. Every step she took had to be taken in the context of what Daria wanted and needed.

So why not ask her?

Allie braced herself, both physically and mentally. While the response was certainly a foregone conclusion, the gesture still had to be made. She walked inside, glancing from bedroom to bedroom. It would be best to wait until morning, she knew, because Daria would still be flat out after her day’s exertions.

But at least she could look in on her, even though Daria had begun to insist she was too old for that. Allie eased open the door, praying that it didn’t creak, and looked towards the bed. The sheets were rumpled; the light cotton cover was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. Daria had obviously tossed it aside and gotten up in a hurry.

Allie smiled to herself. Daria had had not one but two grande slushies before bed; God alone knew where she was putting all that. She was probably in the bathroom.

Only the bathroom door was ajar, and there was no Daria.

A stealthy sense of dread slithered up the back of Allie’s neck. It seemed to her that the cabin had suddenly become eerily quiet. “Daria?” she called. “D? You there?”

Nothing.

It wasn’t a big cabin, so it took mere seconds for Allie to check her own bedroom, and then Daria’s again, just in case she had been seeing things. She hurried back to the porch, even though she had come from there. Nothing but slanting rain.

The truth crashed into her like a mountainous wave, slamming her into the surf and sucking her under: Daria had heard her argument with Sam. She had heard every angry word: about how hard it had been raising her, and the sacrifices she had made as a mother.

She ran to the little coffee table where they both set down their key cards for the night, but there was only one. Daria was gone.

Allie tried to steady her pulse, quell her anxiety. It was simple: the girl was upset—naturally—and had taken refuge at Sadie’s. She dialed Sadie’s number, once, then twice, with no answer. It was heading for eleven, so maybe Sadie and Lauren were asleep, but if they were, wouldn’t Daria had woken them up?

Allie burst through the cabin door, not caring to close it, and darted out in the rain, covering the distance between the two cabins. She pounded on the door, never mind there was a bell. Moments later, Sadie answered, looking rumpled and bleary-eyed. “Allie? Is something wrong?”

“Daria isn’t here?”

Sadie looked back into the cabin, confused. Lauren appeared behind her, equally tousled. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t find Daria!”

“Why? Why isn’t she in bed?”

Allie’s hands flailed helplessly. “There was an argument… I think she ran away.”

Immediately, Sadie was on the alert. “Oh, that poor lamb! Do you have any idea where else she could be?”

No, Allie thought. But she knew who could help find her.