encouraged her to go.
It had been a while since she’d climbed the dunes at Jockey’s Ridge.
The last time had been a couple of years ago, when she’d come with Shelly and Chloe to watch the competition in which Sean Macy had prevailed. Strange how when you lived somewhere, you tended to take for granted the area’s most interesting and easily available at tractions.
“There they are.” Kara pointed to a group of people surrounding a single hang glider at the crest of the dune.
Daria could pick out Rory and Zack, who stood side by side, their backs to her and Kara. They both shared that unmistakable broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped build.
“Let’s get a little closer and sit down,” she said.
They hiked higher, Kara complaining with every step about the hot sand burning her feet. Daria had advised her to wear shoes, but the warning had fallen on deaf ears.
They sat down near the group. Rory spotted them and waved, and Daria thought he was probably a bit nervous. She’d taken a lesson herself, years ago, but once had been enough. For all her athletic strength and usual fearlessness, she preferred to remain earthbound whenever she could.
It was fun, watching the class. Each student took several turns running down the side of the dune, the hang glider heavy on their backs until the air lifted them into a steady glide above the sand.
Some students managed longer nights than others, some went fairly high while others stayed close to the ground, and a few never made it off the dune at all, the nose of the glider catching in the sand before they’d even had a chance to take off.
Rory’s first flight was low, but the second took him high above the two instructors, who ran down the dunes beneath him.
“Go, Dad!” Zack yelled, his hands cupped to his mouth.
“Whoohoo!”
Daria had to smile. For once, Zack didn’t seem to think his father was such a loser. Indeed, Rory’s body was in perfect alignment with the glider, and his flight was as smooth as satin. He was a quick learner.
Kara’s gaze was fastened on Zack, though, not Rory, and she wore a perpetual smile on her lips. She was clearly enamored of him, and Daria could not blame her. Zack looked just like his father did at fifteen, with his tan, athletic body. He had Rory’s green eyes and sun-streaked hair, covered right now by a helmet. She’d thought she was in love with Rory when he was Zack’s age; she knew she was in love with him now. She’d seen many people fly hang gliders before, but this was the first time she’d been mesmerized by the pilot rather than the flight.
Okay, she thought, so at least you have him for a friend. She could talk easily to him, and he certainly was open | with her, although she wished he would spare her his feel-j ings about Grace. He was the first man she’d ever met who truly understood and respected the commitment she felt to Shelly. He was perhaps misguided and single minded in his pursuit of Shelly’s background, but at least he was being honest with Daria about it.
More honest than she was being with him.
1 he day was particularly hot, the sun dazzling on the glassy waves of the ocean, and Shelly reveled in the feeling of the cool salt spray against her skin as she walked along the beach. She had a destination;
she usually did, although Daria and Chloe and most everyone else thought her walks were aimless and without purpose. They didn’t really know her. They thought she was one person, but she was actually another.
Although she was anxious to get where she was going, the young couple and their baby sitting on a blanket near the water were an irresistible lure. Shelly stopped next to their blanket and got down on her knees in the sand near the baby.
“She’s adorable,” Shelly said, studying the baby’s blond ringlets.
“She is a girl, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” the young woman said.
“Her name is Anna.”
“How old is she?” Shelly asked. The baby was banging a plastic shovel against a pail, and Shelly picked up a small plastic rake to help her in the game.
“Thirteen months,” said the mother. The father said nothing. His gaze shifted from Shelly, out to sea, and back to Shelly again. A lot of men were shy like that when it came to talking about their children.
“Hi, Anna.” Shelly ran her hand gently over the baby’s fine blond curls.
“My name’s Shelly.” She glanced up at the green and white umbrella above the blanket, then looked at the mother.
“It’s good you have this big umbrella for her, because her skin is very fair,” she said.
“Yes, it is.”
Shelly looked at the baby’s perfect little hands and feet.
“Did you worry when she was born that she wouldn’t have all her fingers and toes?” she asked.
“I know moms worry about that.”
“Yes,” the mother said.
“But we were very lucky. She was perfect.”
She touched one of the baby’s toes, and leaned close to the little girl.
“This little piggy went to market,” she said. Then she looked at the mother again.
