Nurturing Hope by Kara Ripley

Author:Kara Ripley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, children, criminals, interracial, law enforcement, pets, political
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2022-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

DRIVING TO STINSON Beach would take us two hours, heading west on the I-80 with Sole in the driver’s seat. Due to work commitments, we hadn’t seen been together since our unforgettable night at her place. Seven very, very long days.

When she suggested a day trip, I didn’t hesitate to say yes, and by 7:00 a.m. we were on our way with our towels, sunscreen, and hats.

Being a Wednesday, Hope was at school. I felt guilty for leaving the house before she was out of bed, but I planned to do my best to be home by six so we could still have dinner together.

I knew I was being overly anxious. Hope was nearly sixteen; she would hardly notice if I was home as she rushed off to the school bus. But it was hard not to worry about her, after the experiences she has had and the historically fragile nature of her family relationships.

At first, Gina had been annoyed that I’d asked to reschedule a house shoot, but it turned out the family needed longer to clean the place up and were grateful when Gina requested the change. Things aligned and here we were, Sole and I, off to the coast for a few hours.

As we traveled, the cityscapes and roadside businesses occasionally gave way to meek and low-lying hills. Some areas—particularly between the Cordelia Junction and Vallejo—were more sunburnt than others, dark leafy bushes a stark contrast to the almost-yellow grass out of which they grew.

“I like the view here,” Soledad said after we crossed the Napa River, driving alongside the San Pablo Bay. The road through here was only one or two lanes in each direction, where it had been four or five lanes when we had set out from Sacramento. The Bay hugged the edge of the road, only a few feet of plant life separating us from the shallow, glistening water that stretched along on both sides. Steady ripples moved across the surface, pushed along by a moderate wind.

I lowered the window, and air rushed through my hair, the rich smells of soil and water so different to the city. “Yes,” I murmured. “It’s nice to go for a drive. I haven’t come out here for over a year.”

“Really?” She gave me a surprised sideways glance before redirecting her eyes to the road. “I love going to the beach. Even when it gets too cold to swim. I can always go running—”

“Running on the sand?” I looked at her, incredulous. “Ouch. No thanks.”

She grinned. The fingers of her left hand curled around the steering wheel as we came up behind a slow-moving truck. “Or sit and read, listening to the waves.”

“Now that I can get on board with. As long as it’s a good book. I like reading, but I seem to get tired as soon as I try to focus my eyes on the page, so the writer needs to bring the suspense.”

Soledad raised an eyebrow. “Suspense, huh? Do you read thrillers?”

“Mmm-hmm. Crime fiction type things.

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