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Leaving Portland, Meredith Malone drove west along the Sunset Highway. Sweeping wheat fields bordered by verdant hills and towering mountains soon gave way to orchards, which gave way to forests of spruce, alder, cedar and hemlock. In places the highway cut in so deeply that the bases of the huge trees were eye level on both sides of the car, giving the feeling that she was an infinitesimal part of the endless forest. She drove in the shaded wilderness for an hour before seeing sunlight and sky again. Here, an occasional gift shop dotted the sides of the road, joined by deserted fruit stands that would be busy in later months. During the summer even antique dealers displayed goods along this stretch of road, and tourists with RVs, towing ATVs or with bike and surfboard carriers slowed traffic considerably. This time of year, however, hers was one of only a few cars, so she made good time.
She descended the last hill from Saddle Mountain, pleased that she'd planned the drive for after her three-month-old daughter had been fed and was ready to sleep most of the morning.
She drove through a small river valley and climbed through the dense foliage along the coast. She hadn't been to the coast for years, and as she started the last descent toward Cannon Beach junction, the Pacific Ocean appeared, vast and surprisingly familiar. Ahead was a fleeting distant view of Haystack Rock, projecting a couple of hundred feet out of the water. From almost untouched countryside, she drove the steep loop down to Cannon Beach and into the small town.
From her car seat in the rear, Anna woke and let Meredith know she was hungry with tiny rooting sounds and a long wail of complaint.
"We're there, sweetie. Mommy just has to find the address."
She glanced at the piece of paper on the seat beside her and followed directions through the quaint little community to a multicolored brick inn near the beach. White shutters made the windows look welcoming, and each guest suite sported a sunny balcony. Shrubs bordered the building and lined the drive and the walk.
Meredith unfastened the carrier, grabbed Anna's bag and her purse, and carried the seat holding her baby. She would come back later for the rest of her belongings. Traveling with an infant was an enormous task. She had packed diapers and clothing and blankets and toys, and still she'd wondered if she'd remembered everything she would need for her stay. Once again she said a prayer of thanks for the blessing and ability to breast-feed. At least she didn't have to worry about bottles and formula.
It may have been a perfectly natural thing to a million women, but for her it was a gift she never took for granted.
Anna was red-faced and wailing by the time Meredith entered the lobby, set the carrier on the carpeted floor and checked in.
"Sorry," she said above the crying to the woman at the counter. "She's hungry."
The woman nodded. "Can I help you carry your things to your room? Maybe she'll settle down if you take her out and hold her."
"You're probably right." Meredith leaned over, unbuckled Anna's restraints and picked her up. Anna immediately quieted as she peered at her new surroundings and blinked at her mother.
"You've been cooped up in that seat for a while, haven't you, sweetie?" Meredith smiled and turned back for the room key.
The clerk was staring at Anna.
Pain stabbed in Meredith's chest. Anna was a beautiful child with black hair, near-black eyes and velvety skin the color of coffee with cream. Meredith, on the other hand, was as fair-skinned as could be.
Would she ever get used to people staring at the two of them? She waited for a question—people often blurted the first thing on their minds. But this woman displayed a modicum of tact and said nothing.
With a cheerful smile pasted on her face, she came around the wall from the little room she'd been standing in and picked up the carrier and Meredith's bag. "I'll show you to your room."
Not "what a pretty baby" or "what is her name?" Meredith tamped down the hurt as the woman walked her down a hallway and led her to a set of double doors. Meredith used the plastic key card and let herself in. The hotel employee set her belongings just inside. "Have a nice stay."
"Thank you." Meredith closed the door and locked it. Her first impression was that the suite was as large as her apartment at home, but far more elegantly furnished.
Anna was fussing again, so without taking time to investigate the rooms, she hurried into the bedroom, placed the baby on the king-sized bed and changed her diaper. Then Meredith unbuttoned her shirt, settled in a comfortable overstuffed chair and placed Anna at her breast.
Dark eyes looked at her trustingly, smooth dark skin and lips a vivid contrast against Meredith's scarred white breast. She touched her baby's face and smiled. The drive had been beautiful and relaxing, but she was tired from packing and planning and following directions. She kicked off her shoes and propped her feet on a matching ottoman.
The past few months had been tension-filled and emotionally draining. No, the past couple of years had been tension-filled and emotionally draining. But the recent months had been worse, rife with her mother's constant disapproval and pressuring. Every time Meredith thought about her mother's reactions, renewed hurt knifed through her heart. Breathing deeply, she worked to fight back her anger before her tension seeped through to the baby in her arms.
Meredith's mother had wanted her to give up Anna for adoption. Meredith wouldn't hear of it.
She'd loved her baby from conception. She'd adored her on sight and cherished her more every day since.
But Veronica was embarrassed. She'd been mortified when her daughter gave birth to an African-American child. She wanted the world to know Anna's birth was not by choice or by natural means and she threatened at every opportunity to feed the information about the mistake made by Children's Connection to the media in hopes of having the public's sympathy.
Veronica's obvious shame hurt Meredith more than she could say. She'd been surprised when she'd seen her baby, yes, of course. But ashamed? Certainly not. She was tired of fighting her mother on every front and constantly heading off her confrontations and insistence that Meredith sue Children's Connection. This was her mother! She should accept Meredith's decisions and love her grandchild.
Tears stung her eyelids and she determinedly blinked them away. She needed this time away from everything—especially from Veronica. She craved privacy. She was looking forward to peace and quiet, time alone with Anna without pressure or censure.
For a few blessed weeks, she wouldn't have to cook or clean; she'd have attendants to help tote and carry. She could see the local sights at her leisure and return here whenever she wanted to put her feet up and do nothing.
She glanced around the elegantly appointed room. This was just the getaway she needed.
The morning news had predicted temperatures in the sixties and Meredith was glad for the unusual warmth. Shortly after her arrival the day before she had discovered a place nearby to rent all types of beach equipment, and she was eager to try out her canvas chair and umbrella.
The sand was deliciously warm from the sun, and though she knew the water was freezing cold, a few die-hard surfers in wet suits rode the waves onto the beach.
Anna slept peacefully on a thick blanket under the umbrella, and by late morning Meredith was a third of the way through a mystery novel she'd been wanting to read. She poured herself hot decaf coffee from the thermos, sipped leisurely and her eyes grew heavy.
"I think her baby's sleeping." "She's sleeping, too, Lamond. Don't bother them." "I'm not bothering them, I'm just lookin'." The soft voices brought her out of her restful state, and she opened her eyes to find two handsome young black boys in jeans and T-shirts peering at Anna. "Hi," she said.
The oldest boy glanced at her with eyes widened in surprise, but the younger one gave her a friendly smile. "Hi. That your baby?"
"Yes. Her name's Anna. I'm Meredith." "I'm Lamond and I'm four." He held up the appropriate number of fingers. "This is my big brother, Jonah." He's seven. "Nice to meet you both." "Can your baby swim?" With a smile, Meredith shook her head. "Not yet." "I saw babies on TV what could swim," Lamond said matter-of-factly. "The moms and dads just put 'em in. They had a camera underneath the water so you could see 'em with their little faces all scrunched up." He demonstrated and giggled. "It was cool."
"It sounds cool," she replied. "I've heard of teaching infants to swim."
Taking a step back, he pointed toward the ocean. "Maybe you could put her in the water and see if she can do it," he suggested.
"I'm pretty sure you'd have to teach a baby in a heated pool," she replied with a grin. "The ocean's too cold."
"It's too cold for me," Jonah said with a shudder.
"Not for me," Lamond said, puffing his chest out. "I'm tough. My dad says so."
"I'll bet you are."
"Your baby's real pretty," he said. "Can I look at her up close?"
"Sure." Meredith got out of her chair and knelt beside the baby, peeling back the blanket that protected her cheek from the elements.
Anna's rosy lips puckered and she made an instinctive little sucking motion.
"Aw." Lamond chuckled. "That's so cute."
Meredith smiled at the child who had captured her heart in record time. She thought everything Anna did was darling, too.
"D'you live around here?" Jonah asked.
"No, we're vacationing."
"Us, too," he replied. "We're staying at the Lighthouse Inn, but the only lighthouse is on the sign."
