Barefoot in the Sun (Barefoot Bay)

chapter Ten

Pasha had gotten sleepy shortly after Ashley arrived, worn out by the game and sun and the little boy who had unknowingly dragged her down memory lane. She settled on a lounge chair in the shade, closing her eyes to listen to his childish voice, letting forty-seven years disappear. Time evaporated, along with the pain and heartache of running and hiding. And, of course, all the fear.

If Zoe ever found out…if Zoe ever knew what they were really running from. She blew out a sad, slow breath, and that forced her to press a hand on the pain in her chest.

That was the real reason for this tumor to take her, and fast. Although those dark thoughts of death had certainly lightened in the face of a little boy who reminded her of her own. A little boy who suggested by his smile and wit that maybe, just maybe, life was worth living a little longer, despite the risks.

That was probably because during those lovely moments of card playing and joke sharing, the little boy at the table became Matthew Hobarth, seven-and-a-half years old, a dark-haired dreamer who saw animals in the clouds and had given his one and only four-leaf clover to Pasha for her birthday.

This means good luck, Mama.

How do you know, little one?

Because there are messages in the grass and promises in the air. All you have to do is find them and figure out what they are.

“Dude, I’m so sorry I brought this puzzle. I thought you were eight.” Ashley’s teenage voice pulled Pasha from her reverie, making her startle.

“I am eight.”

“A normal eight.”

“He is normal,” Pasha said. “Just very bright and exceptional.” She grinned at him. How could she not? He was the same size, about the same age, and had the same sweet voice that hadn’t yet developed a baritone—and he looked so much like Matthew. The same inquisitive brown eyes, the same upturned and freckled nose. Even his mop of hair was the same shade of dark chocolate with hints of auburn in the tips.

“Oh, Aunt Pasha, I’m sorry,” Ashley said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she assured them both. “I was daydreaming. Don’t you ever do that?”

Evan shook his head. “I read or go on the computer. I live on my computer.”

Ashley smiled as if that amused her, but Pasha studied his earnest expression.

Well, that wasn’t the same as Matthew. There were no computers in 1966, and her little boy was smart, but not quite this serious.

“You obviously do a lot of puzzles, too,” Ashley said, selecting another piece. “I know this is My Little Pony, which probably isn’t your favorite, but it is for seven-to-nine-year-olds and you’re finishing it like a beast.”

“I’m good at puzzles,” he said, snapping a piece in place. “I do five hundred pieces in a day.”

“Wow!” Ashley’s eyes popped as she looked at Pasha. “Can you believe that?”

“I’m not lying,” Evan said, his tone rising in self-defense.

“I know you’re not,” Ashley said. “I’m so amazed at that. I don’t think I even owned a five-hundred-piece puzzle when I was your age, or even older. I might have, but if I did, it’s somewhere in Barefoot Bay now.”

Evan easily fit the new piece in place and looked up. “You threw it in the ocean? I mean, the Gulf. It’s not the ocean, I know.”

Pasha noticed very quickly that this boy couldn’t stand to have his facts wrong. One more trait that didn’t remind her of Matthew, but it didn’t matter. She was already smitten.

“I lost everything I owned in a hurricane almost two years ago,” Ashley told him.

“Oh, that was you! Zoe told me. I thought she said it was her friend.”

“She meant my mom. I was fourteen and we lived about half a mile from here, down where the main building of the resort is now. During the storm, my mom and I spent the night in a bathtub with a mattress over our heads.”

Evan looked suitably impressed. “That is so cool.”

“No,” Ashley said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “It was totally not cool. We lost everything, which is why the only puzzle I have left from when I was a little kid is this one. It was at my grandma’s house.”

Evan sat up, tucking his feet under his little body. “Was it a real hurricane, like a category five?”

“Four and, yes, trust me, it was so real.”

“Was it loud? What did it feel like? Did you get hurt? Was there lightning? Were there tornadoes? Did you see them with your own eyes?”

Ashley laughed, and Pasha did, too. “Um, yes, it was as loud as a train. I don’t remember any lightning or the tornadoes and, as a matter of fact, I was certain we were going to die. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

“Because I love weather,” Evan said, shifting his attention back to the puzzle.

“He’s going to be a meteorologist,” Pasha told Ashley, getting rewarded with a gorgeous smile from the young boy. “What is it you like about weather so much, little one?” she asked.

“Everything, but I’m not that little.”

“Of course not. Force of habit.” She rose from the chaise and ambled over to the glass-topped patio table, taking a seat and resting her chin on her hands to watch him and remember.

She and Matthew used to do puzzles and play games like Hi Ho Cherry-O and Barrel of Monkeys. They’d play cards and take long walks to the lake for picnics. And, of course, they’d read the messages from Mother Nature, making up all kinds of funny things together. Every time she made a “prediction” now, it was really a secret whisper to heaven.

Could Matthew hear her—forty-seven years after that horrible night?

“The thing about weather,” Evan said. “It always changes.”

“It does indeed,” Pasha agreed.

“And there’s a reason why I like it.” Evan hesitated with a puzzle piece, but not because he didn’t know where to place it. There were only about six pieces left, and she had no doubt he knew where every one of them fit.

“Weather is the neatest thing in the world.” He looked up, his eyes very much like his father’s, keen and earnest, fringed with black lashes and bright with the emotion of talking about something he loved.

“It’s certainly one of the most powerful,” she agreed.

“Right!” He dropped the piece of the puzzle on the table. “Like nobody in the whole world can do anything about it,” he said. “Weather just does what weather wants to do. And it does some really neat things. Did you know that if a butterfly flaps its wings in Hong Kong, it can change the weather in California?”

“That’s not true!” Ashley said, earning a dire look from him.

“Oh, yes it is. You can look it up on weather.com or any of the really good weather Web sites.”

Ashley gave another eye roll. “Like that’s my idea of a fun time.”

“Well, it’s obviously his,” Pasha said gently. “So you should respect that, Ashley. And, Evan, that might be the most interesting thing I ever heard.”

“Oh, I know all kinds of things like that,” he told her. “Like, do you know that if you weighed all the rain that falls on the earth in one year, it’s like five thousand million million tons? That’s two millions.”

“That’s a lot of rain,” Pasha said.

They’d lost Ashley, who started putting in the last pieces of the puzzle, but Evan was on fire with excitement. “And you know what else?” he asked.

“Tell me,” Pasha said, fighting the urge to reach out for his little cheeks and squeeze them. “What else?”

“Did you know the temperature of a lightning bolt is hotter than the surface of the sun?” He pushed himself up so he was practically kneeling.

“I did not know that,” Pasha said. “Did you know that, Ashley?”

“That’s super hot,” she said, utterly bored. “You want to do the last piece, Evan?”

“No.” He was locked on Pasha now, the two of them connected. “Did you know there’s such a thing as a moonbow?”

Every cell in her body—the sick ones, the healthy ones, the old ones, the near-dead ones—froze for a moment.

“A moonbow?” Her voice shuddered a little.

“It’s like a rainbow, but at night from the moon. Isn’t that cool?”

She tried to swallow, but her damn wretched throat made it impossible.

“As a matter of fact…” Heavens above, maybe Mother Nature really did talk to her! “I saw a moonbow once.” The announcement came out hoarse, and she had to work not to go into a coughing fit. She didn’t want to ruin this blissful moment.

“Really?”

“Do you know what a moonbow means?” she asked.

“It means it rained and the moon’s light is reflected through the water, creating a prism.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It means that your one true love will return.”

He squished up his face. “Ewww.”

Ashley giggled. “You don’t have a true love back at school in Chicago? A little third-grader you have your eye on?”

He curled his lip. “Hell no.”

Ashley gasped. “Watch your mouth.”

He ignored the warning and turned to Pasha. “That’s not what a moonbow means.”

“Yes it is.”

“Aunt Pasha knows,” Ashley said. “She can predict the future by looking at the clouds or dirt or even the foam at the beach.”

Evan looked from one to the other, clearly not buying it. “I don’t know anything about that. I only know what’s real and scientific, not that kind of woo-woo stuff.”

“Finally, something you don’t know,” Ashley said, pulling out her phone to tap on the screen. “Oh, Aunt Zoe texted. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“Good, ’cause I want to go on my computer and look up moonbows.”

“You won’t find what I told you on the Internet,” Pasha told him.

“Then it’s not true,” he shot back. “ ’Cause everything in the world that’s true is on the Internet.”

Ashley snorted. “Not hardly.”

“It’s true,” Pasha assured him. “I know things like that.”

He looked uncertain, but then he smiled, revealing his too-large teeth and a gleam in his eyes. “ ’Kay,” he conceded. “I like to learn things.”

“Then we’ll be a great team.”

His smile was so real, so heartfelt, and so much like Matthew that for the first time in months and months, Pasha almost wanted that black pressure in her chest to go away. She almost wanted to live.

“Hello, we’re home!” Zoe came breezing onto the patio, her green eyes sparking like she had a secret, her hair wild from the wind.

Home? She thought of this as home already? Of course, with Zoe’s life, she could think of a motel room on a rural highway as home. That was the sad, sad legacy that Pasha had given her.

Zoe came to the table, leaning over to give Pasha a kiss, her cheek warm from the summer air. Or was it that Oliver Bradbury gave her a flush of love?

The moonbow promised the return of true love. But whose love? A little boy like the one Pasha had lost, or a man like the one Zoe had lost?

The one Zoe had lost because of Pasha. “How was your ride, honey?” she asked Zoe.

“Amazing.”

Pasha couldn’t help but grin. “I like the sound of that.”

Zoe slipped into one of the empty chairs, and Pasha got a good look at her face. Her sweet cheeks high with color, her ever-present smile as wide as ever. “I have so much to tell you.”

“Is my dad here?” Evan asked.

“He’s bringing some things out of the car,” she said. “We stopped by his storage unit and picked up stuff for this house.”

Evan’s eyes grew wide. “I hope he remembered my Xbox. I had to use the system in the Shitz-Carl—” He gave Pasha a guilty look. “I mean the Ritz-Carlton. Be right back.”

Pasha watched him tear back into the house and Ashley got up to follow. “I better keep an eye on that kid,” Ashley said. “He’s a cussing computer trapped in the body of an eight-year-old boy.”

Zoe laughed, but Pasha sighed with contentment.

“He’s wonderful,” she said.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Zoe asked, absently turning the puzzle spread out over the table.

“I do. He reminds me…” Oh, dear. Careful, Pasha. “He’s a very endearing and intelligent young man.”

“So’s his dad,” Zoe whispered, leaning close.

“Ahh, I thought you looked like a woman all smitten.”

“Pasha, I’ve been to his clinic.”

And that was what had her glowing? “Why did you go there?”

“Why do you think? Oh my God, I’m so excited. They can cure you.”

“Zoe, I doubt—”

“Don’t doubt!” Zoe squeezed Pasha’s hand. “Do you want to talk to Oliver about it now? We’ve been with his partner, another doctor, and they can do gene therapy, Pasha. They can do amazing things that no regular hospital can do. It’s this new—”

“No, no.” Blood rushed in Pasha’s head, thrumming and pounding.

“I know what you’re worried about, Pasha,” Zoe rushed on, undaunted by Pasha’s protests. “This will be completely confidential and no one will have to know anything, not your name or identification. It’s perfect!”

No, it wasn’t perfect. “I’m sure it’s dangerous and risky, though.”

“Not as risky as dying!”

Pasha inched back at the outburst. “I don’t think you should fight nature, dear.”

Emerald eyes popped wide in response. “What are you saying? You won’t treat this illness, even if it doesn’t mean…exposure?”

Pasha turned toward the pool. The day had been nice. Warm sunshine and memories. But she’d made up her mind, and as long as she was alive and the threat existed, she was blocking Zoe from happiness.

“I’m tired and I want to go home.” She put her hand on Zoe’s arm. “Real home.”

“Back to Arizona?”

“No, no, to the bungalow. Our temporary home.”

Zoe’s shoulders slumped. “They’re all temporary, Pasha.”

“Precisely.” But if she were gone, Zoe could find permanence. “Please take me back so I can rest.”

“He only wants to ask you some questions.” She leaned closer. “Pasha, he’s not a typical oncologist. I know what you’re worried about, but there’s no chemo, no radiation. He’s working with this brilliant doctor and this really extraordinary research facility and they’re doing all these exciting things like, oh, God, I can’t even pronounce the words but it’s a whole experimental way to treat canc—”

Pasha slammed her hand on Zoe’s mouth. “Don’t.”

Zoe jerked away, the fire blazing in her eyes for a whole different reason now. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded. “I’ve found a solution!”

But Pasha had a better one.

She shook her head and conjured up some fake gypsy tears. “Please take me home, little one. I promise I’ll come back tomorrow. Oh, no, tomorrow’s Sunday. So maybe Monday, then. One day won’t make a difference. And I will come back, Zoe. I enjoy that little boy very much.”

Zoe dropped back into her chair with a sigh, shaking her head. “You can’t outrun cancer, Pasha.”

Pasha swallowed—mercy, that hurt—and cast her gaze over Zoe’s shoulder.

“Hey.” Zoe took Pasha’s chin and angled her face so they had to look at each other. “We’re a team, remember. I’ll be with you every step of the way on this.”

But the fact was, she wouldn’t be. Not every step. Not this time. “ ’Kay.” She gave a quick smile and prayed that Zoe couldn’t tell she was lying.





Pasha was sound asleep by ten, leaving Zoe restless and bored and on the hunt for company. After a quick check on her aunt, Zoe slipped out into the moonlight, grateful to see a light on in the bungalow next door. But Tessa didn’t answer Zoe’s soft tap at the front door. She must have fallen asleep, and Zoe didn’t have the heart to wake her so she headed back, considering a walk to Lacey’s house. Surely she was up, with a newborn.

As she crossed the grassy area that separated each cottage, a soft sound from the gardens rustled through the air.

An animal? They were out here. Opossum, giant crane birds, and don’t try to tell her a gator couldn’t come from the canals on the east side of the island looking for a midnight snack.

With a quick shiver Zoe took a few quick steps, abandoning the idea of a walk through the gardens, however tempting a late-night girl talk might be. She took a few more steps, then heard the sound again.

That wasn’t an animal. It was a person. A person…sniffing.

Zoe headed into the shadows of the garden, her gut telling her exactly who was out here.

She found Tessa in between two rows of leafy greens, her arms wrapped around her legs, her face buried in her knees, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

“Hey,” Zoe said softly, not so loud that it scared the crap out of Tessa, but loud enough to beat out the sobs. “And here I thought I needed a little girl talk.”

Tessa lifted her head, the moon bright enough to reveal her red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t want to talk,” she said, the lie so pathetic Zoe almost laughed.

“Oh, I see you’re out here weeding.” She dropped into the soft dirt, praying that no nocturnal critters were out and about.

Tessa sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I said I don’t need to talk.”

“You said you don’t want to talk. Needing and wanting are two different things.” She lifted a leaf and examined the exposed vegetable. “Surely I’m better company than the…” She knew this; Tessa had told her. “Flying Chinese peas.”

That got a smile. “Asian winged beans.”

“Close enough. They look like caterpillars run over by a steamroller.” She dropped the plant and eyed her friend. “Looks like something flattened you, too.”

“Billy,” she said softly. “That’s the steamroller who flattened me.”

“Oh, the f*ckwad ex-husband. Don’t tell me, baby number two was born and Billy the Bonehead just had to text you from the delivery room.”

“How did you know?” Tessa croaked in disbelief.

“Oh, Tess. Really? Why would he do that?”

She nodded and swiped her nose. “The baby was five weeks early, and in his defense—not that there is one—he knows how I feel about everything not being out in the open. So he thought I should know right away and not hear it from one of our mutual friends.”

“He’s too thoughtful,” Zoe said wryly. “I hate him.”

“Zoe, you said you loved Billy when I married him.”

“Hello? Wedding champagne. Anyway, have we not established that my taste in men is not the most reliable yardstick, hon?”

“Oliver’s nice,” Tessa said.

“Let’s not talk about Oliver. I’d rather crucify Billy for a while. Did he marry that baby machine yet?”

“No, they’re living together still, up to the eyeballs in diapers.”

“Which means they’re up to their eyeballs in diapers full of…oh my God that green stuff that Elijah makes. Have you seen that goop?”

Tessa sighed. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not. It looks like organic creamed spinach to you.” But Tessa didn’t laugh, so Zoe leaned closer. “Why don’t you adopt?”

Tessa leaned back on a sigh. “We looked into adoption years ago and it’s not as easy as you’d think unless you have a super-stable life. I’m a single woman who spent most of the last ten years moving from country to country, farming. By the time I got through the legal wrangling and qualified, I could be forty.”

“So?”

“I want a baby now, that’s all.” She plucked a leaf. “There are other options for me to be a real mother.”

“A real mother?” Zoe couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice. “What the hell does that mean, anyway? You think Pasha wasn’t a real mother to me?”

“No, Zoe, that’s not what I’m saying at all, and I’m sorry, that was a poor choice of words. But she’s your great-aunt, so there’s blood there.”

Zoe didn’t answer, as a swell of guilt and discomfort rolled over her.

He knows how I feel about everything not being out in the open.

Lord, even Tessa’s horrible ex was more forthcoming, out of respect for what was important to Tessa. Quiet, Zoe stuck her fingers in the soft soil and sifted it. She really should tell her best friends, but now she’d lied to them for so long she wouldn’t know where to start.

“Do you even remember your mother, Zoe?” Tessa asked quietly.

Start right there.

No, she couldn’t. The lies were so ingrained, so imprinted on her heart, that after a few dozen times of reciting them, they became truths.

My parents died in a car accident when I was ten. Aunt Pasha was my only relative. She raised me. We move a lot because there’s gypsy blood in the Tamarin line.

“Barely,” Zoe said, instead of lying by rote. “Pasha’s my mother, for all intents and purposes. And you could be that person to another child who doesn’t have parents. What you need is to get a kid that’s been housebroken.”

“Like a foster child?” Tessa asked. “I don’t know if I could stand to give it away.”

Zoe couldn’t even respond to that. She turned away, certain that even in the moonlight Tessa could read her expression.

Could the door be open any wider?

The truth would feel so good. To sit here in the moonlight and share histories and secrets. Just to let the pressure of a lifetime of lies lift from her heart would be so liberating. Sure, Tessa would be mad as hell, but they’d be closer and more trusting, wouldn’t they? It would be a breakthrough moment, and they’d tell Jocelyn and Lacey, and surely they’d all rally round Zoe. They’d finally understand what made her tick, forgiving her deceptions, and be all Fearsome Foursome, go team go. Right?

Or would they hate her for hiding the truth for all these years?

And if she told the truth, even whispered it right here in the moonlit garden to a woman whose perspective could change if she knew Zoe’s history, would Zoe be breaking a promise to someone who’d been so much more than a friend?

What a bitch of a dilemma.

“Anyway, I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle a foster child,” Tessa continued. “Some of them have been abused and neglected and God knows what.”

Yeah, God knew what and didn’t do a damn thing about it. But Pasha did.

“You could probably handle it, Tessa.” Zoe’s hands shook a little as she played with a row of strange bean pods, popping one off and snapping it to find three splotchy red lima beans inside.

“I want a baby to keep and raise, not a social services project I’m scared to get attached to,” Tessa said.

Was that what she’d think Zoe was? Had Pasha? Of course not. Pasha had just scooped Zoe out of her life and saved her ass. Which is why Zoe owed her complete loyalty to Pasha, not Tessa, who was actually pissing her off even more than usual right that moment.

“A child like that needs love, like any other kid.”

”But don’t you have to give a foster child away at some point?”

“How would I know?” Zoe said, sounding irrationally defensive and not giving a shit right then. The misconceptions about foster kids made her crazy, and so did this conversation. “I don’t think all of them are like delinquents or crack babies. You might get your maternal instincts appeased for a while.”

“Well, that’s not what I want.”

“What about what they want?” she demanded. “Why is it always about you, Tessa? You and your uterus. Don’t you ever think about those poor kids and how much one of them could be transformed by living here, learning from you, loving you, eating this tie-dyed bean?”

Tessa gave a weak smile. “That’s a Christmas pole lima bean, Zoe. And, honestly, this isn’t about my poor, empty uterus. It’s about the one thing I wanted to be in my whole life. A mother forever. Isn’t there anything you ever wanted to be or do, something that burns inside of you like a lifelong dream, the thing that would make you so happy and whole that you just know you have to have it someday?”

Oh, yes, there was. A permanent, stable, enduring address to a place that had history and happiness in every corner. But nothing could make Zoe say the ultimate four-letter word out loud.

Home.

“Isn’t there?” Tessa demanded.

“No,” Zoe lied. “I just want to be a hot air balloon pilot who drifts from city to city without any chance of putting down roots that could do nothing but strangle me.”

Even she could hear the sarcasm in her tone and, damn it, she wanted that line to come off as the truth.

“Roots are what I live for.” Tessa leaned forward, her eyes piercing. “Roots don’t strangle if the plant is well tended, my friend. Roots nourish. They provide stability. They make sure the plant doesn’t merely survive, but thrives and grows and produces a fruit or vegetable.”

“Enough with the gardening metaphors. You know what I meant.”

“No, I don’t, Zoe. You don’t really like this…this whimsical, immature life you’re living, do you?”

She snorted. “Excuse me, but I am not the one sobbing in the dirt.”

“You just keep on pretending to be someone I know you’re not.”

Zoe gasped a little, shocked at how the conversation had turned on her. “I am? You know this how?”

“You’re always pretending to be some sex-loving, hard-drinking, joke-making party girl, when deep inside you’re really a sweet angel who would do anything for her old aunt and gets tipsy on a glass of Chardonnay.”

Oh, God, Zoe, just tell her.

“You know damn well it takes two glasses.” The tease tasted like vinegar on her tongue, but she said it anyway. Because she couldn’t face the truth. “And now that we have me all figured out, why don’t we talk about you and your issues?”

“Nah.” Tessa stood up, brushing dirt off her jeans. “I feel much better. And I know what you should do, Zoe.”

“Stop pretending?”

“Well, that, yeah, and you should move.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will. That’s my life.”

She held out her hand to help Zoe up. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean here is where you should move. Right here, to Barefoot Bay on Mimosa Key. I think this is the one place you can have that thing you’re longing for, that dream that will make you whole and happy.”

“You sound like Pasha the Predictor now.”

Tessa ignored the comment. “A home, Zoe. This can be your forever home. And isn’t that what you want more than anything?”

So much for secret longings. How did Tessa know that?

“You’re not going to deny it, are you?” Tessa asked.

“Home is overrated,” Zoe said, looking up to the stars, suddenly imagining the utter peace and security of a night balloon flight wrapped in silence and sky. “I prefer to be untethered.”

Tessa sighed. “I guess that’s the difference between us, then. I’d kill for a few tethers I could diaper and love.”

Zoe put her hand on Tessa’s shoulder, handing her the lima bean. “Here. There were two little beans in this pod. Pasha would say that’s a sign you could have twins.”

“I wish Pasha’s predictions were right.”

Zoe angled her head, surprised. “They are.”

Tessa looked a little hopeful when she took the bean and headed into her bungalow, seeming much more lighthearted and leaving Zoe feeling exactly the opposite.

What was stopping her from telling the truth? Habit? Fear? The anger and disappointment she’d see in one of her closest friend’s eyes?

And yet she wanted to talk about it so much. She walked toward the bungalows, aware of a pressure on her heart so heavy she almost couldn’t breathe. What was that?

This can be your forever home. And isn’t that what you want more than anything?

Considering how well her friends knew her, it was a miracle they hadn’t figured out the truth by now.

She kicked the dirt and peered up at the moon, suddenly turning in the opposite direction, toward the other side of the resort, no longer concerned about night critters. Her heart ached with untold secrets. Her body tensed with the need to tear down that wall that surrounded the hard-drinking, joke-making, sex-loving party girl who never lets her feelings show.

Meandering through the back of Casa Blanca, she made her way to another wall—a wooden fence, actually. On the other side of it was…the thing she wanted most right then.