Turning Point Page 11

“Playing among the boxes,” Brenna said.

  “We checked here, I swear we did. Called for him.” Thomas crouched down next to Ryan, who was finally beginning to snuffle in his mother’s arms, both of them calming. “Why didn’t you answer us?”

  The boy’s blue eyes looked up owlishly, and he pouted. “You didn’t use the secret word,” Ryan said plaintively. Cassidy’s tears renewed against his head on a choked-off laugh.

  {

  Brenna, brushing at her own tears, gave a watery laugh as well. She dusted her fingers through the mop of blond hair that looked so much like his mother’s. “Honey, I think Mommy’s going to refresh your memory how that all works.” She offered to take Ryan so that Cassidy could stand. The younger woman took her hand instead of passing over her son, and Brenna found herself lifting both from the floor. The effort resulted in Cassidy steadying herself against Brenna for several seconds.

  The police escorted Brenna, Cassidy, and their sons back to the office. Cassidy apologized profusely for making such a stir, still holding Ryan like she would never let him go.

  Brenna finally coaxed Cassidy into giving Ryan to her boys for the moment. “We ought to get the report done quickly so you two can get home.” Passing Ryan to her sons along with her car keys, she warned them, “Go directly to the car. Don’t talk to anyone.”

  “We’ll escort them, ma’am.” Maxwell and Murphy, who was throwing an arm around Thomas’ shoulders, pulled them together as they guided the boys out of the store.

  Twenty minutes later, with most everyone dispersed except a few diehard reporters, Cassidy and Brenna emerged. Cassidy shook Lieutenant Taylor’s hand. “Thank you,” she said with a weak smile.

  “You’re welcome, ma’am. Just glad there was a happy ending.”

  Cassidy was too relieved to speak. She followed Brenna to the parking lot.

  “KTLA TV.” A reporter approached them. “Don Deering here. So, Ms. Hyland, isn’t it?” She nodded absently. “Your boy’s all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, accepting Ryan back from James. Deering reached out and rubbed the fur of the stuffed raccoon Ryan clutched to his chest.

  “Don’t you think safety measures in the store should have been more stringent? Certainly there was a real danger he could have fallen into that trash compactor?”

  Cassidy blanched as the vivid fears resurfaced. Brenna stepped forward, taking Deering’s hand off Ryan. “He wasn’t hurt, and everyone’s fine. I suggest you go back to your station and leave the two of them alone. Now.”

  Deering shrugged but persisted even as Cassidy was opening her back door and securing Ryan in his car seat. “She ought to decide that, don’t you think?”

  Brenna, who had a hand on Cassidy’s back, felt it stiffen. She patted the musŹcles and stepped away from the car, drawing Deering’s eyes to her. “Mr. Deering, I’m going to say this once: We don’t need your attention or the attention of your camera. Now get out of here before I have the police remove you.”

  Deering looked her up and down, and she was never more thankful for her alter ego: A quick placement of her hands on her hips and a glare made him reconŹsider pushing the issue. With a dispirited wave of his hand in front of the camera lens, the reporter turned his back and walked over to the closest police officer, his cameraman following.

  Brenna caught a grimace from Taylor, but the officer quickly straightened up and delivered a summary which was probably considerably dryer than the reporter would have liked. Taking a deep breath, Brenna finally released her own tension. She turned around to see Cassidy slipping into her driver’s seat. There was a tug on her shirt.

  James whispered, “Mom, she’s in no shape to drive.”

  Brenna looked more closely and saw that Cassidy’s hands were shaking. BendŹing to the window, she knocked on the glass. Cassidy jumped. James was right. She motioned for Cassidy to roll down the window. “Hey, listen. Why don’t I drive? Tho-

  mas can follow u.s.”

  Hands squeezing the wheel, Cassidy nodded reluctantly and got out, moving around to the passenger seat. Brenna waved to Thomas, who jogged over. “I’m going to drive them.”

  “Where to?”

  Brenna slid into the driver’s seat and gently touched Cassidy’s arm. “Do you want to go home?”

  “Please.”

  “All right. Thomas, follow me.” She reached out the window and patted his cheek. “Be careful. I love you.”

  “See you in a few minutes,” he said confidently, turning away.

  With Cassidy collecting herself en route, Brenna soon pulled into the Hyland driveway. Thomas pulled in behind. Cameron was just getting out of his car at the curb. “What the hell happened to you? I heard a report over the radio that Ryan was missing.”

  “He was,” Brenna confirmed. “But we found him.” She pointed to the back seat. Cassidy had gone around to the other side and let Ryan out of his car seat, taking him inside.

  Watching Cassidy disappear inside her home with Ryan, Cameron asked, “How’d you get caught up in all this?”

  Brenna shrugged. “I was there.”

  “You and Cassidy were shopping together?”

  “We happened to be at the same store.”

  “You live on the other side of town.”

  Cassidy emerged from the house. “Cam, leave her alone. She was there, and I’m glad for it.” She turned to her friend. “Thanks, Bren. I’ve sent him to his room. I’ll talk to him later, when we’re both a little less traumatized,” she explained when they both looked at her. “Cam, I know you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m not good company right now. Call tomorrow?”

  “I’ll make you some dinner.”

  “I can’t. I have to talk to Ryan.”

  “All right,” he conceded. He looked toward Brenna and frowned. Turning back to Cassidy, he leaned in and took her elbows in his hands, pressing a kiss on her cheek.

  The teenaged boys walked up. “Well, Mom, ready to go?”

  Intent on Cassidy as the blonde stepped away from Cameron, Brenna offered, “Don’t be too upset with Ryan, Cass.”

  Cameron got into his car. Brenna saw him watch them for a long moment before driving away. She turned back to Cassidy, who was looking at the ground, rubbing her hands over her face.

  Brenna took a deep breath, reached out, and clasped the other woman’s hands between her own. Their eyes met, and Brenna felt her stomach twist. Seeing Cassidy so exhausted, she wanted to offer to do something more — like watch Ryan while the young woman slept. She stifled the offer before it could reach her lips; Cassidy had requested to be alone. “Call me if you need to talk.”

  Impulsively, Cassidy embraced her, and Brenna felt the warmth as their cheeks touched. They separated slowly before relinquishing their mutual grip.

  Cassidy turned and entered her home, while Brenna followed her boys back to

  their car. Still pensive, she leaned against the passenger window and quietly thought over the afternoon’s events, while Thomas drove home.

  Chapter 12

  Arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the open glass door, Cassidy watched Ryan run in the backyard with Ranger. The dog was chasing the unexpected “prize” of her son’s afternoon escapade — a taxidermy raccoon from the sports store’s display. Though he had scared her and several L.A. police officers, Ryan appeared unaffected after being missing for more than an hour.

  She watched him stop and turn, catching sight of her in the doorway. He waved and smiled, falling down as the dog leaped at the toy. He laughed as the dog licked his face and then the stuffed animal. She wasn’t sure about the sanitary implications, but clearly there was no way she would be able to get the “toy” away from the pair any time soon. Cassidy shook her head.

  Thinking about the afternoon quickly took Cassidy’s mind down paths she felt better forgotten. Looking into that compactor had scared her nearly witless, despite Brenna’s hand in her own to steady her. She closed her eyes and offered up silent thanks that they
had found Ryan among a collection of boxes rather than at the botŹtom of that shaft.

  / should have kept a hold on his hand, she berated herself. If she had, he wouldn’t have gotten away from her to go look at the animals and consequently gotŹten lost. Brenna had pointed out that holding on wasn’t always possible. She sagged. As the sunset lent an orange haze to the day’s end, Cassidy wished for some of that confidence now.

  Abruptly she sat up. “I could just call her.” She realized that just speaking with Brenna would probably cheer her up. “Ryan!” she called. “Time to come in for dinŹner.”

  He ran toward her, and she had to sidestep him and the dog as they barreled through the doorway as a pair. She stepped into the kitchen, sending him to the bathroom to wash up while she put on a couple of hot dogs to boil and retrieved the bag of chips she kept rolled up on the top of the refrigerator. Warming the buns in the microwave, she had a hot dog, complete with ketchup, ready as Ryan slid into his chair at their small kitchen table.

  He dug in immediately. She reached for the phone, going so far as to pick up the receiver before scanning her phone list and realizing that she did not have Brenna’s home number. Undeterred, Cassidy dialed Information, her hip resting against the counter as she waited for the recording. “Los Angeles,” she responded to the prompt. “Lanigan, Brenna.” The computer reported the entry as unlisted and disŹconnected her. Looking at the phone, she muttered, “What now?”

  She considered who might know the number and realized that there were very few options: the studio, which was closed, or someone on the coordinating producŹtion staff. She blinked. Of course. Cameron. She wondered why she had not thought of him first but chalked it up to stress. Except you saw him just a few hours ago, memŹory prompted. Quickly she punched up his number.

  “Hello?”

  He sounded tired. “Cameron. Hi.” She settled to the table, brushing her fingers over the surface. “I have a request.”

  “You need a day off? No problem. I’ll arrange it.”

  “No, I…I’m okay. I just need a phone number.”

  “Okay. Sure. Who?”

  “Brenna’s.”

  “Lanigan? Why?”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, but I really just…Brenna’U understand.” There was a long pause before she heard the flutter of papers being turned.

  “I…I’m sorry I couldn’t help you today. All right. Here’s the number…”

  She copied it to her list and initialed the entry: BL. “Thanks, Cam. I really appreciate it.”

  “Ryan is all right, though?”

  “Yeah. I’m just…” Cassidy couldn’t explain it. Instinct told her Brenna was the only one she could talk to about this. “Sort of a ‘you had to be there’ thing.”

  “All right. Well, I…I’ll see you at work on Monday?”

  “Catch me at the lunch break?”

  “Will do.” In the silence, Cassidy could hear his breathing over the line. “Well, um, have a good night.”

  “Thanks.” She pressed the disconnect button and immediately dialed the numŹber. Disappointment filled her. The line was busy.

  Script loose in her palm, Brenna curled up on her couch, throw pillow against her stomach as she tucked up her bare feet. She could still hear James cleaning the pots from their dinner and filling the dishwasher. Thomas had excused himself to his bedroom to call his girlfriend. She looked at the clock. Twenty minutes already. She sighed, wondering what they could possibly be talking about after spending a whole week together at school.

  She acknowledged that she wanted to use the phone and that probably also explained her own distraction. For the last hour she had repeatedly reached for the phone to call Cassidy, only to pull back. Certainly the woman had had a trying enough day; she wouldn’t want to bring it up again. But Brenna couldn’t get it out of her mind. She kept thinking about just how bad things could have been and wonŹdered at the fate that had put her at the store just in time to help.

  Thomas came in and sat down, flipping on the television. As he settled back, he looked over at his mother at the other end of the couch. “Mom?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head, then straightened a bit. “I just can’t seem to get today out of my mind.”

  “It was totally weird, but everything turned out cool.”

  “Yes, I know.” She leaned over and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m really proud of how quickly you jumped in to help.”

  “She’s a friend of yours.” He shrugged as if that explained all.

  “She’s different from other women I’ve had as friends,” she answered, wonderŹing exactly what she meant by that — and exactly when she had decided Cassidy was someone she could call “friend”. She did not have many of them. She shook herself. “I’m just really glad nothing serious happened to Ryan.”

  “Now that’s a cute kid,” Thomas agreed.

  “He is.” Brenna laughed. “I wonder if Cassidy was able to clear things up with him about the ‘secret word’.”

  James came in, drying his hands on a towel. “That was the weirdest thing I think I’d ever heard.”

  “He Is only five,” Brenna reminded her son, reaching up and extending her hand for him to grasp. “I rememher you at that age. Remember when you climbed up on the porch railing, convinced if you just spread your arms, you could fly?” She covered her face. “Luckily you only sprained an ankle instead of something more serious.” James rolled his eyes, and she chuckled. “See. Kids and risks — natural companions.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” he groaned and left.

  Thomas stood. “Are you deserting me, too?” she teased.

  “I’ve got Hamlet to read for school.”

  She nodded. “All right.”

  “See you in the morning.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Good night.”

  After Thomas left, Brenna found her thoughts drifting back to Cassidy and their last moment together on the woman’s front lawn. “I’m going to call her,” she resolved, reaching for the portable phone on the table. Looking at the keypad, she paused. What’s her number? Brenna couldn’t recall, though she thought the invitaŹtion from Ryan’s birthday party had it for the RSVP. Of course, after the party, Brenna had tossed the card. She sighed. Who else would know the number?

  “Cameron!” Hopping up, she checked her desk and pulled the writer’s number from her Rolodex. Quickly she punched in the sequence and put the phone to her ear, walking back to the living room couch. Halfway there, she pulled it away and disconnected. Busy.

  He’s probably talking with Cassidy, she reasoned, trying hard to ignore the disŹappointment coiling in her stomach as she sat down with the script and tried to conŹcentrate.

  Stepping out of the bathroom where she had just turned off her son’s bathwater, Cassidy looked at the script on her bedside table. / should work, she thought, picking up the pages. Reclining on the bed and trying to focus, she rehearsed the dialogue different ways in her head.

  Giving up because she was too distracted, she reached for the remote and turned on her TV, keeping the volume low. The background noise frequently helped her concentrate.

  “New at 10 o’clock, it was a busy day for a grand opening. It all went awry for a local celebrity and her son when crowds spelled a danger every parent fears.”

  Cassidy set aside her script and turned up the sound. She caught a piece of news clip — her carrying Ryan, flanked by Lieutenant Taylor and Brenna. “God, I thought this was over,” she groaned, reaching for the phone to call the station and request the story editor.

  It rang before she could start dialing. After a moment to collect herself, Cassidy picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Cassidy.”

  “Rich?” Surprised by Rich Paulson’s voice, Cassidy blinked, then put the receiver back to her ear. “What’s up?”

  “That’s my question. Just
heard a news brief. You had a little excitement this afternoon? Everything all right?”

  Cassidy brushed her fingers through her bangs and pulled them back from her

  face. “Yeah. We’re both fine. It was nothing really.”

  “Not what the news said. Ryan almost fell into a trash compactor?”

  “There was an open one near him, but no…he didn’t.”

  “Well, that’s good news. I wanted to check on you, I guess.”

  “Might’ve been different if Brenna hadn’t been there,” she said.

  “Brenna? Our Brenna?”

  “Yeah, we were both shopping for camping equipment when we ran into each other.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Fine. She was great. Her boys, too.”

  “I’m glad you had some help.” There was a long pause. “Well, I just wanted to call. Guess I’ll let you go.”

  “Thanks. Really.”

  “Good night.”

  “Good night.” With a half smile, she set down the phone, wondering who else would call. Slipping from the bed, Cassidy returned to the bathroom.

  “All right, Mr. Prune. Bedtime.” She pulled Ryan from the tub and wrapped a thick towel around him. Perched on the toilet, she rubbed him down and patted his face dry. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “So, did you have enough fun for one day?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “All right. Can we have a better day tomorrow?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  She picked him up and brushed her nose against his cheek. “I love you.”

  His arms wrapped around her neck. “I love you, too, Mommy.”

  She carried him into his bedroom and helped him into his pajamas. Tucking him under his covers, she knelt by his bed. “Please don’t run off again, okay?”

  He put his arms over the top of the covers and nodded emphatically. “Okay.”

  She stifled a chuckle and ruffled his hair. “Sweet dreams.”

  Retreating to the door, she turned off his light. He turned on his side, and she paused for a lingering look. Thank God for you, Brenna. Any longer and Ryan might have come looking for her. He might have actually fallen into that compactor. Her need to talk to the other woman suddenly acute, Cass returned to the bedroom and dialed the number Cameron had given her. “Hello? Brenna?”