Tara Randel - Honeysuckle Bride

“I don’t know what to say.” Unnerved by the events, Jenna’s voice choked with emotion. “Thank you, Mr....?”

“Wyatt Hamilton.”

She handed him his cap, which he settled on his head. An accusatory glare hardened his eyes.

Jenna felt an unwelcome flush warm her cheeks. “I would have gotten to her in time, but you moved much faster,” she said, pushing past the tightness in her chest.

Wyatt looked down at the girls, then back to Jenna.

“Make sure swimming conditions are safe next time you bring the girls here,” he said, his voice husky, as if seldom used. Anger punctuated his tone. “Next time you might not be so lucky.” He turned on his heel, whistled for the dog and headed back in the direction of the marina.

Jenna’s mouth fell open. Shock, frustration and fear weighed heavily on her shoulders.

* * *

LATER THAT NIGHT, Jenna softly closed the door to the girls’ bedroom, having checked on them for the fifth time. Running her hands through her mussed hair, she walked back to the living room to rejoin Nealy, who sat on the couch waiting for her.

“Still asleep?”

“Yes.” Jenna picked up her cup. Despite her still queasy stomach after the day’s events, she took a sip of lukewarm tea and grimaced.

“Problem?”

“Too cool.” Jenna nodded toward Nealy’s cup. “Want a refill?”

“Sounds good.”

They both moved to the kitchen, Jenna’s motions brisk as she refilled the kettle before setting it on the burner. She reached into a canister for fresh tea bags to replace the used ones she’d just dumped, then leaned back against the counter, fighting against tears.

“What was I thinking?”

“Jenna, quit beating yourself up. Bridget is fine.”

She’d managed to calm both girls down at the beach, then they’d packed up and headed home. After a quick bath and grilled cheese sandwiches, they settled onto the couch with a big bowl of popcorn to watch a favorite Disney movie. The girls stayed glued to Jenna’s side until Nealy arrived later on and Jenna tucked them in for the night.

“No thanks to me. It’s my job to keep the girls safe. A stranger beat me to it.”

“You had no idea what would happen.”

“And that’s the problem. I should have been sure the girls could swim before they went near the water instead of taking their word for it.”

Nealy paused before saying, “You can’t second-guess yourself.”

“And why not?”

“Because you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

Jenna’s shoulders slumped. “What was Carrie thinking, leaving the girls with me?”

“She knew you would love them.”

“I’m finding out that’s not enough.” She threw up her hands. “The only thing I know how to do is cook. Sure, they get three meals a day, but what about the rest? I’ve never been responsible for anyone but myself. When Carrie was alive, I visited or took the girls on a special play date every now and then. I never stopped to consider their day-to-day needs.”

“I think you’re getting a crash course.”

She was indeed.

“It’s only been six months since Carrie died and my heart still aches. She was more of a sister than a friend.” Her voice hitched. “I miss her terribly.”

Nealy hugged her. “I can’t even imagine,” she whispered.

Jenna took comfort in Nealy’s presence, drinking in her support.

“Did I ever tell you how we met?” she asked as she drew back, swiping at her moist eyes.

“No.” Nealy moved away, giving her some space. “I got the feeling you didn’t like talking about your childhood.”

“Being in the foster system—it can be tough unless you find a friend.”

The kettle whistled. Jenna turned off the burner and poured steaming water in both mugs. A slight smile tugged her lips as she remembered her first meeting with Carrie.

“I’d been at this home for about six weeks when Carrie showed up. Thirteen years old with an attitude.” She chuckled. “Heavy black eyeliner, a couple of piercings and a wardrobe you’d cringe at. One look from her and I figured she’d make my life miserable.”

“Obviously something changed.”

Jenna blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip of tea. “She’d been there about two weeks when she got caught sneaking back in the house after curfew. We shared a room and I watched her climb out the window almost every night, but didn’t say a word. Our foster mother, Mrs. Thomas, wanted an explanation, and much to my surprise, Carrie froze. Couldn’t think of a thing to say. What happened to the smart aleck I lived with?

“Feeling bad for her, I told Mrs. Thomas, who really wasn’t so bad, just overwhelmed, that I’d forgotten my homework at a friend’s house and Carrie offered to get it for me. I’m not sure she believed my story but she let it slide. After she left us alone, Carrie demanded to know why I’d stood up for her. I couldn’t tell her that my heart went out to this brash girl who’d finally showed a vulnerable side, so I said I did it so she’d owe me a favor. Surprised, because I usually stayed away from conflict, and impressed that I’d stood up for her, especially for a price, she walked over to me and held her fist in the air. I finally figured out she wanted a fist bump. It was a bonding moment for us.”

After that, they’d slowly moved from reluctant allies to true friends. Made wonderful plans for what their lives would become once they aged out of the foster system. For the most part, they’d achieved their dreams, until an accident tore Carrie away from Jenna and the girls.

“Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mom.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if bad mothering was hereditary. Her own mother had an alcohol problem, which made her less than reliable. It took one visit from a caseworker to find Jenna in a barely habitable apartment, alone, with very little food, for her to move Jenna to a new home. When her mother didn’t argue or try to win her back, Jenna began her journey of moving from home to home.

Nealy snorted. “I disagree. I can’t imagine those girls with anyone else.”

“Is this what life is going to be like? Me making mistakes and the girls paying for them?”

“Jenna, give yourself a break. You’ve only lived with them for six months.”

She ran a shaky hand over her brow. “Carrie and I talked about me becoming the girls’ guardian, but I thought that’s all it was. Talk.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think too much about the conversation, but Carrie took it to the next step to assure her children’s future.”

“And in the time you’ve had the girls you expect to be a perfect parent? You think you should know everything there is to know about children and never make a mistake? C’mon, the girls are ten years old. I can guarantee Carrie made mistakes, no matter how much she loved and cared for them.”

Jenna straightened her shoulders. She could do this. She had to do this. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m walking on shaky ground here, but you’re right. It’s getting better, but still, I need time to get used to being a parent.”

“The first step is admitting you have a problem.” Humor sparkled in Nealy’s eyes as she attempted to lighten the moment.

Jenna grinned. “Oh, I could come up with quite a list.”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down. I think you’re doing great. For a single woman busy with her career, you accepted responsibility for the girls no questions asked and embraced the idea of being a mom. Take this break you have from filming right now to grieve along with the girls. Once it’s time for the television season to start up again, things will get better.”

“As long as the tabloid press stays away.” She shivered. “If not for the exposure from my job and attracting a crazy person, we wouldn’t have left the only place the girls have ever lived.”