Her Second-Chance Family

She picked up the mail, placed the bills in one pile and dropped the junk mail in another. There was one envelope that was obviously neither. She opened it and felt sick. It was an invitation to her ten-year high school reunion, the last Saturday in August at the Bayfront Convention Center.

Her heart sank. She didn’t want to go. She doubted that Merrill or Ava would be there, and other than the two of them, there was no one she really wanted to see. Actually, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to see Merrill and Ava. They’d kept in touch, but only just barely since high school.

She didn’t want to look back. There was nothing to be gained by it.

“Aud,” Clinton and Bea shouted in unison.

Audrey crumpled the invitation and put it in the recycle pile. She turned her attention to the kids.

“It’s official,” Clinton announced. “We’re on summer vacation.”

“And Willow finally convinced Mr. Williams to let her mow his lawn,” Audrey said.

“Good for you, Willow,” Clinton called up the stairs. Audrey guessed the girl had made a beeline for her bedroom, confirmed moments later by the sound of a door slamming.

Clinton was only a year younger than Willow, but in so many ways he was much older. He’d grown up too soon and she knew that part of that was her fault. She felt a familiar stab of pain. She’d done her best to give him a childhood, but she wasn’t always sure that her best had been good enough. At least she had given him security and a family.

“I thought we’d go to the beach to celebrate the official start to our summer and Willow’s successful campaign.”

“Sunset,” Bea squealed. “Our first one of the year. It’s still too cold to swim, right?”

It had been a brutal winter that hadn’t given way to spring until almost April. Two months hadn’t been enough to warm the Great Lake up enough for Audrey to swim, or even dunk her toes. “Well, too cold for me,” she told the ten-year-old.

Bea’s long brown braid bounced against her back. Bianca Cruz was built of sturdier stuff than Audrey. Over the winter, while Audrey had dressed in layers, Bea had walked around barefoot. “I’ll put my suit on just in case.”

“A sunset?” Willow said as she came back into the room and stared at her foster siblings. “Really, that’s your idea of a celebration?” She walked up to the counter, grabbed an apple and then went up the stairs again. Moments later, her bedroom door slammed.

“I don’t think she’s impressed,” Clinton said with typical dry humor.

“That’s because she hasn’t experienced one yet,” Audrey said with more optimism than she felt.

“You might not win her over, Aud,” he said softly. “You might have to concede to that someday.”

“It doesn’t matter. She needs us, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. Everyone needs someone. I was lucky that I had you to work for, to fight for. And now Willow’s got us, even if she doesn’t want us.”

Clinton was too old to hug much anymore, but he made an exception this once and squeezed her tight. He was taller than she was now.

“All we can do is try,” Clinton said with his old-man wisdom.

Audrey nodded. “Let’s make short work of dinner so we can get out to the beach in time for that sunset.”

* * *

A COUPLE HOURS LATER, she sat on a blanket, one arm wrapped around the very damp Bea, watching as the sun neared the edge of the horizon.

It had been a lovely evening. She’d even coaxed Willow into joining the family selfie. Now, if only she could get the girl to enjoy herself.

“Really, you guys, this isn’t a celebration, it’s a...” Willow started to complain again.

“Shh,” Bea said. “We’ll miss it.” Her teeth chattered as she pulled the towel more tightly around her.

Audrey still couldn’t believe that Bea had braved the lake. No one else would join her. Not even Clinton, and Bea could normally persuade him to do almost anything.

“Miss what?” Willow asked.

Bea’s teeth chattered as she said, “Audrey knows a lady who owns a chocolate shop in town. The lady says if you listen hard enough, sometimes you can hear the sun hiss when it hits the water.”

Willow scoffed. “Oh, come on...”

Audrey caught Clinton glaring at Willow, as if warning her against hurting Bea’s feelings. His look was enough to shut down Willow’s rant before it really started.

They all knew that logically they’d never hear the sun hit the water, but that didn’t stop them from trying every summer.

Slowly, the sun drew closer and closer to the distant horizon where Lake Erie met the sky. The clouds overhead parted just enough to allow a small band of color to show through. Tonight it was a brilliant pinkish orange.

Seconds later the sun sank below the horizon and disappeared, the color of the sky fading to a lavender blue.

Audrey let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Did anyone hear it?” Bea asked.

“Not this time,” Audrey said.

“Me, neither.” Clinton shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to try again next week.”

“How about you?” Audrey asked Willow.

The teenager shook her head. “Of course I didn’t. That’s really stupid.”

“Aud’s friend says when her son was little, they always listened,” Clinton admonished. “They thought they heard it once.”

Willow looked as if she was going to argue, but Audrey headed her off. “We all know it’s just a charming story, Willow. But like a favorite fairy tale, we enjoy it. We come out weekly during the summer to try and hear that hiss.”

Willow shook her head again. “You guys are really weird. Seriously, really weird.”

Rather than take offence, Clinton laughed. “You’ve only been here a few months. You don’t know the half of it.”

Willow gave them one more disgusted look, then stalked toward the car.

“She’s doing better,” Bea mused. “I thought she’d be meaner about the sunset.”

“Me, too,” Audrey admitted. “We’ll win her over eventually.”

“You’ll win her over,” Bea said. “You and Clinton. She just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be loved. I know I was little, but I didn’t know, either, until Clinton, then you.”

Audrey gathered up their blanket, then followed her family back to the car.

It was time to go home.