Leanne Davis [Davis - Seclusion

A ngie? Is that you?

Angie Peters whipped around, startled by the squeaky childs voice. Her heart stopped, and her palms grew sweaty. Amy Tyler, her eight-year-old daughter her biological daughter who she had not seen in two yearsstood a few feet in front of her holding a little red plastic shovel. Sand clung to her knees, turning her jeans wet and dark where she must have been kneeling in the sand.

Angie had known there was a good chance shed run into Amy when she came back here to her home town of Seaclusion, Washington. She just hadnt known it would be this soon. Angie had come to the ocean beach to take in the blue sky over the frothy, rolling surf as she tried to prepare her heavy heart for facing the history here. And most of that history was tied up in the small, blond package peering up at her.

Angie pressed her lips together and slowly expelled a breath. Hi, Amy. How are you?

Amys golden hair was down to her waist. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and she was missing a front tooth. Her daughter was tall and skinny for her age, much as Angie had been. They looked painstakingly alike. It twisted her heart in two. How could an accident of biology replicate her so completely? The difference, however, was that Amy was a happy, well-adjusted, giggling little girl who twitched around as she smiled cheekily and said, Mom and me were making a sand castle over there. Wanna see it?

I would love to come see it. Amy easily inserted her hand into Angies and pulled her toward the pile of sand she had shaped into a giant pyramid.

See, here it is. She grinned and dropped to her knees, digging at the wet, dark sand to create a moat around it. Reality was easy for Amy. She had known her entire young life that Angie Peters was her biological mother, but her real mother, the mother who counted, was her adoptive mom, Kelly Tyler. Angie was simply a fun, older sister-like figure to her.

Two beach chairs sat back from the sand, protected from the breezy afternoon by the sand dunes. Kelly stood, her long legs stretching as she stepped toward Angie. A slow smile slid over her face. We thought that was you. Amy has eyes like a hawk. What are you doing in town? Sarah didnt mention you were coming to visit.

Kelly embraced Angie. Angie closed her eyes and leaned into Kellys shoulder. The eager welcome was something she expected from Kelly. Too bad her own mother would never greet her in such a manner, something that, to this day, broke her heart.

Sarah and Scott dont know Im here. Its a surprise. Sarah was Kellys best friend and married to Angies uncle who had raised her. They were the only real family she had.

Kelly pushed her back, her eyes narrowed, taking in the wet sheen of Angies eyes. Kelly squeezed her hands. Are you okay?

Yes. Just tired. I finished up finals. I decided to come see everyone. How are you? How is Amy?

Kelly glanced at Amy with a loving gaze and slight tilt to her lips. Im good. Amys perfect. She loves second grade, is starting to read chapter books now. Its pretty hard to get used to. She found her birthday list last year, and could read it before I realized it.

What would Angie do if she were Amys mother? What would she do for her birthday? How would she handle teaching Amy to read? Kellys gaze landed back on her. You dont seem okay.

Angie shrugged. The older I get, the harder it gets.

Because now if you were pregnant with Amy you could keep her?

She should not answer. Amys adoptive parents were the most inappropriate people to talk with about her doubts about giving up her daughter. But Kelly saw things, surprising things, and never backed down from confronting them.

Yes.

You know Luke and I could use a night out together. Why dont you give me a call when youre settled, maybe you could babysit for us?

Angies gaze touched Kellys. Youd do that?

Yes. Id do that. Kellys voice was so gentle it made Angies heart swell. Shed made the right decision in giving her daughter to this woman.

Thank you.

Luke and Kelly Tyler had raised and loved Amy as Angie couldnt, because at sixteen when she gave birth to Amy, she hadnt had the slightest clue what to do with a baby. And to date, the only role shed played in Amys happiness and well-being was giving her to the Tylers. The rest was all her parents doing. And the way that knowledge twisted up her heart with pain and jealously should have subsided by now. But it hadnt. It seemed like maybe it never would.

She could have given Amy up to anyone, any couple who lived far away from her home town. She had purposely chosen Luke and Kelly, simply because shed wanted Amy close. Close but not hers. Close so that she could make sure nothing bad happened to her as a result of who she picked to be her parents.

Amys head popped up from her crouched position. Do you want to help me make a bridge? Her big, eager eyes were pinned on Angie. Angie glanced at Kelly for permission. Kelly smiled and nudged her forward. Go ahead or shell be at us all day until she gets it just right. Our little drill sergeant.

That right there, the loving guidance and warmth was everything that Angies own life had always lacked, and why she had known, even at sixteen, that she couldnt raise her baby. Shed never had a motherly influence in her entire life. Her mother, Vanessa Peters, was about as motherly as a fish to its young. Vanessa had always been critical, inattentive, and the last person she ever turned to for anything. Even now, when she came to town, she stayed with Scott and Sarah. She rarely visited her mother.

Scott had saved her life, and saved her from Vanessa. Scott had been her primary parental figure since she was ten years old. He still treated her as one of his daughters, even though she was now twenty-four.

Id love to help you with your sand castle. Angie dropped to her knees and helped Amy pack down sand and scoop out under the precarious bridge structure.

Hey, is that beautiful blond Angie Peters?

Angie smiled and turned toward the voice carrying to her from down the beach. She got up and wiped her sandy hands on her jeans. Hey, Mr. Tyler.

He grimaced. She couldnt help it; she could not call him by his name no matter how many times he told her to. Mr. Tyler had been her math teacher for four years of high school. Shed given up her baby to him at the end of her sophomore year. Hed taught her for two more years. It had been stranger than any other relationship in her life. One day he would tell her to do her homework, the next hed comment on how the daughter shed given him was doing. Talk about surreal.

Youre not sixteen anymore. You can call me Luke.

At forty-three, Mr. Tyler was still blond, blue-eyed and ripped. He didnt look his age. But Angie could not get to a casual place with him. She shook her head. No, I cant.

He smiled. So, kiddo, what are you doing in town?

Just visiting.

He eyed her. He didnt believe her either. Okay. Youll be sure to visit us?

She smiled. Nodded. Almost said, yes sir. But stopped herself.

Id better get to my uncles.

Hey, Amy, come give Angie a hug bye.

Angie almost kissed Mr. Tyler for his kindness, and the casual way he went about letting Amy have a relationship with her. Amy ran up, threw her arms around Angie, kissed her cheek, and then ran off again giggling, smiling, girlish. And okay. She was just fine in her life, and Angies place in it.

But what Angie most hated about herself was she should be grateful, when in fact what she felt was jealous. Jealous it wasnt her who had been able to give Amy any of this.