Point Hope Read online

  Trey sat down next to her as the kids rushed out of the room. Candice said something about adding their new seashells to the picture. The “picture” was a big board where they glued all their beach finds. It was messy, and Rosette wasn’t sure what they would ever do with it, but the kids worked on it together. That was reason enough to allow it.

  “It’s almost Alex’s birthday,” she said. “His sixteenth birthday. I thought we should do something special.” Originally, they’d talked about taking a trip or doing something big over spring break, but that idea had been lost in the recent tragedies. She could see Trey remembered too. He leaned back, let out a breath, and stared out the window. His profile caught her off guard. Rather, her reaction surprised her. Trey had always been startling movie-star good looking, and it took her breath away at the oddest times. Like now. She wanted him, and it burned a hole deep down into her.

  “He deserves a special birthday.” Trey smiled as he spoke, although it was edged with sadness as he gazed out the window, seeming to gaze out over time. “Sixteen, wow. How did that happen? He’ll want to get his license.”

  Nervous excitement flooded her. Their “son” was growing up. Even if he wasn’t their son by birth, she had been just like his mother for most of his life.

  Trey looked over at Hope nestled in Rosette’s arms. “I remember Alex like that,” he said, “then Candice and Jake.”

  “And now our little blond Hope.” She didn’t think about the words until she’d spoken them. Our? Trey glanced at her. It felt nice that they had all but stopped fighting. Sadly that was due to two deaths. She looked back at him, into his familiar crystal-blue eyes, thinking of all the years shared between them.

  The door to the garage opened. “I’m home!”

  “Hey, Alex,” Trey called. “We want to talk about your birthday.”

  Alex walked into the room in a windbreaker with his Under Armour showing at his collar—his typical biking attire. His hair was flat from wearing his helmet.

  Alex slid his bag off his shoulder and looked at both of them. “I wanted to talk to you guys too. About a date night.”

  “What?” They spoke in unison.

  “I made dinner reservations for you two at Portside.” His hopeful expression made him look ten years old again. “I’ll watch the kids. And I can call if I need help with Hope.”

  She glanced at Trey. Portside was less than ten minutes away—even though it was almost out in the boonies, the tiny town of Charleston had several outstanding restaurants.

  Alex saw the look. “I’ve been taking turns feeding Hope. I even change diapers. And you guys know I’m good with babies.”

  Alex probably thought they had to decide if he was capable enough. In reality, Rosette had to decide if she and Trey could make it through a dinner out alone.

  “That was really thoughtful,” Trey said, making her think he was about to knock the idea down. “We’d love to go out.”

  Rosette nodded in slow motion.

  “I promise I’ll call if anything even starts to happen here, with Hope I mean. But I’ll do a great job taking care of her.” He looked over at the clock. “You might want to get ready. I had to take a six o’clock because it was busy after that.”

  Thirty minutes later, Rosette waited for Trey so they could leave. She’d dressed first to give herself time to talk with Alex about what to fix the kids for dinner and what Hope would need for the evening. Trey had been in the garage when she came down, but she knew he was now dressing upstairs. She wondered if he was a little nervous too. It was silly, but she almost liked the feeling, like they had things to be excited about.

  Trey came down the stairs in a navy blue dress shirt that made his eyes pop. She had always marveled at how his eyes stood out in a crowd or from a distance. They were so clear and deep, a light blue streaked with darker flecks. You could only see that up close. Five feet away and his eyes were amazingly blue, like a deep pool.

  He’d sprayed on the cologne she had given him for Christmas just a few months earlier. It’d been an unusual choice, she recalled. They were at each other’s throats, and she had no idea what to get him. She’d noticed he was out of his favorite cologne, and on a whim, she bought him a bottle. It wasn’t something you’d normally get someone you’d been fighting with, but she couldn’t think of anything else. A tie? A wallet? Part of her loved him, no matter what. Part of her always would.

  He took in her dress as if he really liked it. It was long-sleeved for the cool night, but form-fitting, and the smooth fabric was the deep burgundy color she liked so well. It wasn’t overtly sexy, though. Just pretty and, she thought, romantic. There were tiny flowers embroidered along the vee neckline.

  Alex grinned at them as he waved them out the door. They got into the car and backed out of the garage without speaking. It felt as awkward as a first date, and she had no idea what they’d talk about.

  She remembered how they used to schedule a weekly date night, but she hadn’t been this nervous on those date nights. The idea had actually come from Trey’s counselor, who’d recommended a regular night out—just the two of them—when Trey was recovering both physically and mentally from being injured. He shouldn’t have been hurt at all, actually. He was a medic. He didn’t go out to fight. But she knew his work was tough—to see people so devastatingly hurt from gunshots and bombs. Then, his own foundation was shattered when he was hit. When Trey finally came home, he pulled back from her and their life together. They went to counseling through the Veteran’s Hospital and tried all kinds of things to help him cope. She had never asked, but she’d wondered if part of his burden was ongoing worry about Ricky, knowing how easily he could get hurt. Ricky was a soldier, out there fighting and surrounded by danger.

  Trey pulled into the parking lot, and they walked inside Portside’s front door in silence. Soon they were seated by the windows in the sunroom, facing each other over the small table.

  “Your favorite spot,” Trey commented. The glass walls looked out over the bay. A single tiger lily was poised in a vase, and a chunky candle burned in the middle of the table, softly lighting the intimate space and throwing a flickering reflection on its surrounding glass cylinder. There was just enough daylight left to see outside, through their reflections. The sun was setting in the wispy fog and billowing clouds, shading the sky pink and orange.

  They both picked up their menus instead of talking.

  “Oh! They still have the Sherried Scallops.” She set her menu down, decided. Trey laid his menu flat but continued looking at it. What if the entire night was this quiet?

  “I wonder what this is about,” Rosette mused with a nervous laugh. “It’s not like Alex needs to butter us up for anything.” Trey looked at her but didn’t say anything. His worry line was faintly showing between his brows again. She knew how much had been on his shoulders from planning the funerals, dealing with grief, and adding a newborn to the family.

  Their waitress approached. “Are you ready to order?”

  Trey gave her a polite smile and surprised Rosette by ordering something new. “And my wife wants the Sherried Scallops.”

  So he had been listening. “And a glass of white wine, please,” Rosette added. She glanced at Portside’s list and chose a sweeter white from their selection of Oregon wines. She wanted clam chowder before dinner, until she heard they had seafood chowder tonight. The only thing she liked better than a really good clam chowder was seafood chowder with clams, salmon, and that extra spice they added.

  When they were alone again, Trey said, “He needs us to be a family. We’re the only parents he has.”

  She looked down at that, question after question flowing into her mind. Were they just a charade to make the kids feel secure? Could they live like that? Was it the right thing to do?

  “Rosette,” he said, and waited for her to look up. “Can we forget our troubles and enjoy tonight? Alex went to all the work of setting this up for us.”

  “Okay.” She watched the su
nset darken to deeper reds. Her wine and his beer arrived. She held the glass close and drew in the fragment aroma before taking a sip.

  “You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” he said, bringing her gaze back to him. His eyes were glowing. He was looking at her, really looking at her in a way she had almost forgotten. In the soft candlelight, he suddenly looked years younger, like he was twenty and on fire for life.

  His words, and maybe the wine, made her head feel light. She’d only drunk a few swallows but found it hard to believe that his attention could make her swoon like that. “Thank you.”

  Maybe he had meant more than just putting aside their troubles for tonight, even if that seemed too simplistic. They couldn’t fix their marriage by putting off their problems, but what about tonight? She wondered if they could step away from everything and be two people who were attracted to each other again.

  “You look really good too,” she said at last, attempting to sound normal. “I love that shirt on you.” He held her gaze, giving her the impression he was feeling out the situation. She wished she could say, I just want us to be like we were before.

  Their waitress entered the sunroom with their soup, offering a welcome diversion from Rosette’s thoughts. Hearty soup made her think of wet, windy days and eating dinner with friends. Angel was famous for her delicious homemade chowder with extra bacon, bits of potatoes that weren’t too mushy like the restaurant kind, and just the right seasonings.

  “I can’t remember what we were fighting about,” Trey said, looking out the window. Darkness was winning out. He glanced at her.

  “When?” she asked.

  “That’s what I mean. Which fight? When? What was it about? I can’t answer any of those.”

  She tilted her head, so many words hovering on her tongue: You weren’t there when I needed you. You didn’t care that I had a miscarriage. You tuned me and your kids out when I needed help.

  To be fair, it hadn’t been one-sided. He’d had some valid complaints about her too. She did, however, have more trouble remembering those right now.

  She gave a little shake of her head. “I guess I don’t know either.”

  Maybe things would be better if they forgot. The flame on the candle flickered and stilled. Something about the glow illuminated her thoughts, and that’s when she had a true moment of insight. All along, she had been hoping for an apology from him. And maybe that was simply all that was needed: a heartfelt acknowledgement that he hadn’t fully stepped up to the plate, and a sincere promise to take more responsibility.

  The air felt lighter around them, but she noticed they still weren’t saying much. Voices mingled all around the room, and a toddler was being a little fussy in the back corner.

  Their food arrived with a whiff of scrumptious aromas, and they ate while making small talk. It felt so nice that she didn’t care about anything else.

  “Did you see the picture Candice drew of our family?” he asked.

  Rosette shook her head because her mouth was full of noodles. It was strange that he’d seen the drawing and not her.

  “She drew all of us together, with Summer and Hope even, and—” He stopped, choked up. “And Ricky and Amanda were flying above us, with angel wings.”

  Tears crowded Rosette’s eyes too. She blinked until she could speak. “We should save that. Hope might want to see it when she’s older.” She grabbed her wine, not wanting to let all the emotions crash back in.

  “So,” Trey said, forcing a more cheerful voice. “Alex wanted a family trip to the beach for his birthday?”

  At least that was something brighter to talk about. They kept the conversation light throughout the rest of dinner, but Rosette felt the mood change when they walked outside into the chilly night air. Was it just the darkness? She shivered on the way to the car. Once Trey started the engine, she adjusted the heat all the way up.

  “This weird thought keeps popping up,” Trey said as he pulled out of the parking lot. “It doesn’t make sense though.” He fell quiet, definitely thinking about something.

  An idea about them? About her? Trey glanced her way as if he actually wanted her to press him for a change. Instead, she held her breath and played with her wedding ring.

  “Do you think it’s possible…” he paused as he made the turn from the street onto the highway. She knew he didn’t need to concentrate that hard to drive. Something was really bothering him, she realized, and her meal started burning in her stomach. Maybe she should have skipped the wine with dinner. “What if someone drove her off the road?”

  Rosette opened her mouth as if words would come. None did. Could he have a reason to think someone tried to hurt Amanda? Or was he simply hoping it wasn’t suicide.

  He looked at her, hard. “Is that crazy talk?”

  She shook her head. “No.” That would explain so much, if it were true.

  “There’s this girl,” she began. Maybe the girl didn’t have anything to do with Trey. Maybe it was all about Ricky and Amanda. She felt a sick mix of relief and dread.

  Trey pulled to the shoulder. They were on the highway, but there was hardly any traffic heading out their direction. Just a few sets of headlights came and went by. “What girl?”

  “Alex spotted this young girl that walks by the house really slow sometimes. I’ve seen her too.” A car passed and she thought she saw the idea take root in Trey’s mind. “Should we call the police?” she asked.

  Trey raked a hand through his hair and leaned forward on the steering wheel. Like her, he must have been going through the evidence. What would they tell the police?

  “Did Amanda ever mention anyone who had it out for her?”

  It was such a strange question. “No. I can’t even think of a single person who didn’t like her. What about Ricky?”

  He turned toward her in the darkness. “What about him? He was killed in Afghanistan, fighting for their freedom.” A twinge of bitterness came through his voice.

  “He sacrificed everything,” she said carefully. “To keep Americans safe too.”

  “I know, I know.” He rubbed his face. “I just don’t see a connection between that, and someone hurting Amanda here, especially if it is that girl you’ve seen.”

  “Maybe she was in love with Ricky.” Even as Rosette said it, she thought it sounded ridiculous. They were grasping for any theory that was better than suicide. “You know, we may be totally off base here.”

  He straightened, checked the road, and put the car in gear. “Well, I’ll look into it—see if there’s anything that makes sense.”

  She should think through it logically, too. But right now, she was trying not to picture a strange vehicle driving toward Amanda’s car, forcing her off the road.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trey parked in the garage and turned off the engine. Rosette again noticed his cologne, shifting her mind back to her husband. Memories of standing on the porch after one of their early dates swirled around her, and she wanted to say something that would bring back those feelings.

  He reached for the door handle but paused. “Let’s keep this between us for now.”

  His mind was still on that darker subject. She wasn’t sure who else she’d even tell at this point. “Alex knows,” she reminded him. “At least about the girl watching the house. Not about any of our suspicions.”

  “But we can leave it at that.”

  He used his half-questioning, half-telling voice that made it hard to argue. She wasn’t exactly sure why he had made the request, but she nodded. He nodded too. They went inside and found the house quiet and still. She felt safe again and realized she’d been nervous in the car, thinking about Amanda’s accident…and about the feelings and possibilities with Trey. This smelled like their home and had all the markings of their family, from Alex’s shoes by the garage door to the kiddie art on the fridge.

  Trey looked at her, reaching over and running his hand down her arm. The soft touch felt unfamiliar but welcome. “I guess things went okay here,�
� he whispered. She smiled, forcing it at first but then finding her real smile.

  “I kept picturing Alex with a screaming baby for three hours!” She nudged off one high heel and then the other, picking them up by their sling-back straps.

  Trey took her free hand as they tiptoed up the stairs together. A soft light was shining out of their open bedroom door. Alex was lying across the bed on his stomach, reading a book, and looked up at their arrival.

  “How’d it go?” he whispered, his gaze honing in on their hands. For an odd second, it felt like he was the parent and they were the teenagers, coming home late and trying to sneak upstairs.

  “The food was great. We had a good time,” Trey replied. “Thanks again for thinking of us.”

  Alex tried to cover his lopsided smile.

  They whispered goodnight, and Trey shut the door after Alex. They shared a look, a happy one that said they’d given Alex what he needed. Rosette walked to the crib and checked on Hope. This tiny girl needed them too. She had no idea that her parents were gone and this family was hanging on by a frayed thread.

  Trey came up behind her. She could just barely feel his body heat as he hesitated. Then he lightly touched her hip and slid his hand up to her waist.

  Familiarity and desire bloomed in her like a match to a candlewick, making her draw in a ragged breath. Their sex life had once been rowdy and fun but had dwindled down to plain survival sex.

  Tonight his touch was different. Her body felt different. She wanted everything they used to have.

  Encouraged, he leaned close to tickle her neck with his mouth. She leaned back into him and felt their bodies connect through their clothing. Either he turned her or she did. Soon she faced him and their mouths met for a tentative, yet pressing, kiss. His hand went to the top of her dress zipper, but he didn’t pull on it quite yet. She was glad; his hands felt so nice on her back.