I undid the clasp on the dive watch on my wrist and handed it to him. “Meet me back here at seven, okay?” He disappeared across A1A in the direction of the beach. The breeze was decent, a solid twelve to fifteen knots out of the south- southeast. Storm clouds lined the eastern horizon, but that wouldn’t matter to Pit. I figured I wouldn’t see any more of my brother until it grew too dark to see the waves, which, in June, wasn’t until after eight.
There was no sign of Rusty’s vehicle in the parking lot. Back at the cottage I’d found myself standing in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear, knowing that there was a chance he would be here. Then, of course, I had felt really stupid and had just thrown on some baggy cargo shorts and a T-shirt. At the last minute, on my way out of my bedroom, I’d grabbed a Hawaiian print shirt and tied the shirttails around my waist so I could at least look a little feminine.
Jeannie opened the door with a curt nod, and when I stepped into the condo, I was hit smack in the center of my chest by an airborne miniature helicopter.
“Ouch, that hurt!” The slightly larger of Jeannie’s twins had collapsed in hysterics at my dismay, and his brother pounced on him and took away the ’copter launcher.
“Mom!” the older boy screamed, and punched his brother in the back as he fled into a bedroom.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” Jeannie said. She sat back down on a tiny chair in front of a computer and seemed to ignore the screaming and the sound of fists hitting flesh that was coming from the bedroom.
“Don’t you think you should do something?” I pointed to the bedroom door.
She didn’t even look up from the computer screen when she said, “They’ll work it out.”
And I felt it again, that I could never be a mother.
“Where’s Solange?”
Jeannie inclined her head toward the other bedroom. “She’s been asking about you all day.”
Solange didn’t hear me enter the room. She was sitting on the bed, playing with two stuffed animals, and while the bear was neatly tucked in with the covers up to his chin, it appeared that the monkey was getting a hell of a chewing out in Creole. I didn’t understand the words, but I sure knew that tone of voice.
“Hey, kiddo, how are you?”
Her face lit up, and she slid off the bed, dashed over, and wrapped her arms around my waist, her head pressed against my tummy. I patted the back of her head and hoped that was a correct response to this kid hug.
“Everything going okay? You having fun around here?”
“I don’t like boys,” she said, looking up at me with a very serious look on her face.
“Trust me, kiddo. You’ll change your mind one day.”
I remembered the bag I’d brought and I told her to sit on the bed. I pulled out the white dress and held it up. “This is for you,” I said.
She reached out and fingered the lace at the hem, a look of disbelief on her face. I could see already that it would be much too big for her.
She jumped off the bed and hugged me again, rubbing her cheek against the fabric of the dress where she had pinned it against my body.
I heard the sound of the front door opening, and then someone else was enduring an attack from the twins. I let go of Solange to go see who had arrived. After I’d spread the dress on the bed, she slipped her hand into mine and followed close by my side.
On his back in the middle of the living room, Rusty Elliot, special agent to the INS, lay pinned to the floor by two blond dervishes who straddled his body, threatening him with Super Soaker squirt guns nearly as big as they were.
Jeannie looked up from her computer and shrugged. “He didn’t know the password,” she said.
“It’s his house! Doesn’t that count for something?”
She indicated her sons and smiled. “Not with them.”
At that point the floor erupted with flying limbs, streams of water, and giggles. Apparently the special agent was fighting back by tickling, and he was winning. The boys tumbled off of him and retreated to the far side of the room. Then Rusty held up his hand.
“Hold it.” The water streams stopped. “I think this battle needs to continue in the pool. What do you say, kids?”
The boys cheered and Solange smiled. I didn’t think she understood the word pool, but the entire scene had been extremely entertaining. I wondered if she’d ever seen an adult horsing around with kids like that before.
Rusty got up and brushed the water off his clothes and hair. He was wearing a white knit sport shirt and khaki cargo shorts. There was no avoiding it. The man looked good. He nodded to me. “Good afternoon, Miss Sullivan.”
“Hey.” I started to say something, but he’d turned and disappeared into the bedroom. He came out a few seconds later, drying himself off with a towel. “You’re good with kids.”
“I got a bunch of rugrat nieces and nephews. They keep me in shape.”
“You seem to like them as much as they like you,” I said, thinking that if most men had any idea how attractive it made them to be comfortable around kids, they’d all be pushing strollers.
“What’s not to like? They’re great. Anyway, how’re things around here? You been here long?”
“I just got here a few minutes before you. Jeannie? How’s the day been?”
She turned from the computer as the page she was browsing shut down. “Nobody but me’s been near these kids today—not that I haven’t felt like killing them myself a few times this afternoon. My boys are set on getting that girl to play with them, and she doesn’t want to have a thing to do with them. She’s a quiet little thing.” She heaved herself up out of the chair and walked to the bedroom door. She turned back to Rusty. “You sure it’s safe to take these kids down to the pool? I’d love to get out of here for a while. I’ve got a serious case of cabin fever.”
“We’ll be all right. I’ve checked with the local PD, and they say no one has shown the least interest in this place all day. The pool is screened from the road, and we’ll all be there watching them.”
She turned into the bedroom. “Okay, boys, swim trunks on, now.”
“What about Solange?” I asked.
A pair of red swim trunks flew out of the bedroom and hit me on the side of the head. I handed them to the girl. “Go put these on.”
She started toward the bedroom, dragging my hand. “You don’t need me to come with you.” I looked around the room and my eyes lit on Rusty’s. He was smiling.
“Don’t look to me for help, Sullivan.”
The kid squeezed my hand even tighter and looked up at me with those big brown eyes.
“Oh, all right,” I said. “Let’s go.”
The pool deck at the Heron Heights condo complex was on the north side of the building, just two steps higher than the wood docks where a collection of power and sail craft were tied up to pilings and small finger piers that jutted out into the Intracoastal. A rough wood fence shielded the pool on three sides, effectively keeping out the neighbors and the noise and prying eyes of the motorists passing on A1A. The view, however, was open on the water side, and when Rusty opened the gate and the boys darted through, I thought about how nice it would be to live like this someday. Across the tops of the boats in the marina, on the other side of the Intracoastal, I could make out a flock of egrets roosting in the mangroves of West Lake Park. Except for the occasional passing boat and the balconies up above, the little pool area was surprisingly private. Solange pressed her body against my side and held my hand tight as I arranged a chair in the shade at one of the umbrella tables.
“Don’t you want to go into the water?”
She shook her head.
“Tell you what. We’ll go check it out together in a few minutes,” I said, and pulled her onto my lap as Jeannie and Rusty installed themselves in chairs around the table. Jeannie, whose webbed pool chair was creaking in a disconcerting manner, was the only adult who had changed into a swimsuit, although she was still wearing her muu-muu over the top. Today’s version had green curly-tailed lizards pictured in the tropical print.