Break of Day (18 page)

“That's how it's done!” I cried, giving him a fist bump. “Four more times like that and we go surfing!”

A
nd go surfing they did. While I watched from a safe distance on the beach.

At first Jayden was ridiculously bad—he could barely climb onto his board on his belly, never mind stand up and ride a wave. The ocean showed no mercy to the beginner either, crashing over him and knocking him off balance each time he attempted to swim to deeper, calmer water. It was almost like a Three Stooges episode and at times I had to stop myself from laughing.

But Asher never laughed. Not once. Instead, he encouraged Jayden to keep trying, to shake it off and get back on his board. Told him this kind of thing happened to him all the time—even after years of practice. And that it was no big thing.

He had no way of knowing, of course, that this was exactly the right way to talk to Jayden. To treat him like a person, a peer—rather than some charity case. To set expectations high and let him claw his way tooth and nail to meet them. Most people never bothered to give Jayden anything to work for—and so he didn't usually work. But when he truly wanted something, he went after it with all cylinders fired.

And right now he clearly wanted to surf.

There were a few times where I was forced to turn away. Unable to watch as the waves crashed over his head, tossing his little body around in the soup. I tried to tell myself that he was fine, that he was in good hands. That Asher would never let anything happen to him. But my heart beat a little faster every time he fell off his board and in the end I was forced to grab a book from my bag and concentrate on that instead.

After all, what good would stressing out do? It wasn't as if I could charge into the water and save him myself if things went south. And if I told him to come out now, cutting short what was probably the best day of his life because of my insecurities? He'd never talk to me again.

Jayden deserved this. He'd worked hard all week and hadn't scored a single demerit. In fact, Toby had pulled me aside the day before to marvel at his improvement. Whatever I was doing, she said, keep on doing it.

So I tried my best to concentrate on the words on the page and ignore the sounds of the sea. I'm not sure I absorbed a single sentence, but at least I didn't run screaming from the beach. That was something in and of itself. In fact, for me, that was a lot.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest lesson in eternity (but was probably no more than a couple hours) the two boys emerged from the water. Jayden was grinning from ear to ear, running over to me, clutching his precious board. I still couldn't believe Asher had actually shelled out the money to buy someone he didn't even know a brand-new surfboard, and I wondered if he had any comprehension of just how much a gift like this could mean to a child like Jayden—who had almost nothing in the world to call his own.

“Miss!” Jayden cried. “Did you see me out there? Did you see how I rode that last wave? I was up for, like, ten seconds at least.”

I rose to my feet. “I saw it all,” I assured him, reaching out and hugging him. He was soaking wet but I didn't care. “You were amazing. I was so impressed.”

“Why didn't you tell me this kid was a natural?” Asher demanded, rubbing Jayden's head. I winced for a moment—Jayden usually hated being touched like that—but the kid didn't even seem to notice now. “He's like the next Kelly Slater!”

“Aw, I don't know about that,” Jayden said, looking a little sheepish. “But maybe someday!” He looked up at Asher and my heart squeezed at the worship I saw in his eyes as his newfound hero gave him a fist bump. Asher had no idea, I realized, just how much this small kindness could mean to a boy like Jayden.

But I did.

“Do you have something to say to Mr. Anderson?” I prompted.

Jayden turned to Asher and grinned. “Can we do it again?”

I laughed. “I meant you should thank him.”

“Oh, right.” Jayden blushed. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“The name's Asher,” Asher corrected. “And thank
you
, Jayden. Anyone who gives me an excuse to go surfing on a beautiful day is all right in my book.”

I looked around. It
was
a beautiful day. And I'd been sitting on the beach for over an hour now without running away screaming. In fact, I'd actually enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on my back. And the sand had felt kind of good between my toes for once in my life. It might not seem like much, but it was more than I'd ever done before. Jayden wasn't the only one, I suddenly realized, who had accomplished something today.

And once again, it was all thanks to Asher here. Forget the Joker. At times the guy was freaking Superman.

The two of us still hadn't fully discussed what he had done for my mother. He'd tried to bring it up a few times, but I had managed to change the subject each time. It was strange—part of me hated the fact that he knew so much about me now. All the skeletons in my closet I'd worked so hard to hide. And yet, another part of me felt weirdly closer to him because of it. The fact that I no longer had to pretend
to be someone else—someone in his world—was such a relief in so many ways. He knew now, for better or worse, where I'd come from and it hadn't changed the way he looked at me one bit. I didn't understand how that was possible, but it was definitely true. I could tell every time I dared to look in his eyes.

“So can we do it again?” Jayden asked. He turned to me, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please, miss? I even have my own board now!”

I sighed, reality crashing back to shore. “Jayden, we talked about this. This was a special treat and—”

“Are you free next Saturday?” Asher broke in.

“Yes!” Jayden cried. “I am totally free!” He bounced up and down like a maniac on the beach. “I'm absolutely totally free.”

I turned to Asher. “Seriously, don't feel obligated. I told him this was a special one-time thing before we came out.”

Asher waved me off. “I don't mind,” he assured me. “Like I said, anything for an excuse to get out on the water.”

“Okay,” I said, wagging my finger at Jayden. “One more Saturday. But that's it.” After all, I didn't want to take advantage of Asher's generosity.

Jayden whooped loudly. Then he and Asher exchanged high fives, giving each other conspiratorial looks that told me this had all been planned from the start. I rolled my eyes. “Now get in the van,” I scolded my charge. “They're going to kill me if I get you back late for chores.”

Jayden nodded and ran back to the van. I watched him for a moment, observing the way he placed his board carefully in the back, as if loading a precious treasure. Which it was, I supposed. The most precious, valuable thing the kid had ever owned.

I turned back to Asher. “I think you just made his life.”

Asher grinned. “I think he might have just made mine. I haven't had that much fun in a long time.” He watched Jayden get in the car, an affectionate look on his face that made my heart warm.

“Well, thank you,” I said, giving him a fond look. “This
kind of thing—it can make a huge difference for a kid like Jayden. Something to look forward to, something to work for. Someone to look up to . . .”

“Me as a role model.” Asher smirked. “Who would have thought?”

I laughed. “And a model employee to boot. Hell, soon your friends and family won't be able to recognize you.”

His eyes flickered with darkness. “I should be so lucky,” he muttered. Then he shook himself, turning to me. “Speaking of unrecognizable . . . Did you realize, my dear, that you just spent two hours on a beach?”

“I know, right?” I shook my head. “Crazy sauce.”

His eyes zeroed in on me, the laughter fading, replaced by something serious that made me shiver. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Weirdly not too bad,” I replied. “Maybe it was because I was busy watching you guys. Or I was far enough away from the water. But I didn't get that panicky feeling in the back of my throat that I normally get. And my heart didn't feel as if it would explode out of my chest.”

Asher grinned. “I'll make a beach bum out of you yet!”

“I wouldn't go that far!” I protested. “But thank you. I appreciate everything you've done today. Maybe you are a bit of a superhero after all.”

I glanced back at the van, shuffling from foot to foot. It was funny; when I'd first stepped onto the beach I couldn't wait for it all to be over. Now, suddenly, I almost didn't want to leave. “Anyway, Jayden's all loaded up so I should probably be going.”

“I'll come with you,” Asher said, not missing a beat.

“What? No. You don't need to do that,” I stammered, taken aback. “I'm just going to drop him off and then head home.”

“Aren't you hungry?”

“Um, sure, but . . .”

“Well then why don't we drop him off and then get lunch?”

My heart thudded in my chest. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

I twisted my hands together. Truth was, I
did
want to have lunch with him. Hell, I wanted to spend all day by his side. And maybe the night, too. But then . . .

“Asher, I thought we were going to . . . you know, just be friends.”

He nodded, but a playful grin danced at the corners of his mouth. “We are,” he declared. “And, it just so happens I eat lunch with my
friends
all the time.” His eyes caught mine. “Don't you?”

And once again Asher Anderson managed to get his way.

W
e drove down to Chula Vista, Jayden chattering like an excited magpie the entire trip, telling Piper all the details of his surfing adventure. I listened as I sat in the passenger seat, pretending to check my phone, a thrill of pride winding through me at his every word. He was so excited. So enthusiastic. So grateful. Just as I had been with Mr. Chang back in the day. It made me feel good, to say the least. Like for once in my sorry life I had done something worthwhile.

Also making me feel good? The way Piper had looked at me back at the beach. The gratitude mixed with respect I saw in her eyes. It was funny; I'd never really put much effort into getting girls to admire me—usually my looks and my wallet took care of all that. But with Piper I found myself constantly vying for those rare looks of approval. That spark that flashed in her eyes when I did something unexpected. Sure, it bothered me a little that her expectations were clearly set very low. But it made me happy to exceed them all the same. And it made me want to try even harder the next time.

We pulled into a parking lot in front of a cluster of gray
buildings surrounding a rusty playground. Piper parked the van and we all jumped out. I stopped for a moment before following them inside, taking in the surroundings. The buildings were clearly old and not well-kept. In fact, some of them looked like they were one storm away from falling down altogether. But at the same time, all the windows were covered with colorful children's drawings. Like flowers growing in the cracks of a pavement.

I watched Jayden follow Piper inside, still chattering away, and tried to imagine what growing up here must be like for a kid like him. No mother or father or family to care for you. No private space to call your own. Piper had made it sound like he had practically nothing in terms of possessions as well. No iPad, no baseball bat, no Xbox. It made me want to jump in the car and head to Best Buy right then and there and buy the crap out of the place.

No wonder the kid acted out at times. I'd go fucking mental growing up in a place like this. Sure, my own upbringing had had its problems, too. But I'd always had a Spanish-shingled roof over my head, an ocean view. Jayden had nothing at all.

Except he had Piper. And now he had me, too.

We stepped inside and an ancient receptionist greeted Piper with a disinterested grunt, barely looking up. Piper ignored her, turning to Jayden and instructing him to go upstairs and get changed.

“Aw!” Jayden protested. “I want to introduce everyone to Mr. Anderson.”

Piper began to shake her head, but I held up a hand to stop her. “It's okay,” I assured her. “I'd love to meet everyone.”

She gave me a doubtful look—like I didn't know what I was suggesting—but she didn't say no and so I followed Jayden into the hall before she could change her mind. He led me into a small common area with a couple of ratty couches and old-fashioned TVs. There were several other kids of various ages hanging out, looking bored and listless. Until they saw me, that was.

“Hey, everyone!” Jayden announced, jumping onto the
arm of a couch to gain a height advantage as he addressed the room. “This is my new friend, Asher. He's teaching me how to surf.”

All eyes turned on me. A few widened in recognition. “Hey! I know you!”

“Yeah, you're the weather guy on TV!”

A moment later I was surrounded by a cluster of kids, all talking at once, all grabbing at me, trying to compete for my attention. I laughed, retreating a step backward, but they only charged again, with renewed enthusiasm. I couldn't understand a word any of them were saying as they all tried to ask me questions at once.

Suddenly a whistle pierced the air. The kids retreated, backing up to the wall. I turned to see Piper had entered the room.

“Everyone sit,” she commanded. “Give Mr. Anderson some space.”

“Miss! That's the guy from the TV!” one of the kids cried.

“He's
my
surf instructor,” Jayden butted in, giving him a dirty look.

“No way, dude. He's famous. He ain't teaching your sorry ass to surf.”

“He is, too!”

“Guys!” Piper cried. She shot me an embarrassed look. “Is this how we behave when we have guests?”

“No, miss,” they recited in unison.

“Now as I was saying, this is Asher Anderson. And you're right. He does the weather for News 9. You've probably all seen him on TV.”

The kids broke out into excited murmurs.

“Can I have your autograph?” called out a tall, tough-looking boy with a crucifix tattoo on his arm.

“Now, Ramon, Mr. Anderson doesn't have time to—”

“Sure,” I broke in. Then I glanced at Piper. “If that's not against the rules.”

She sighed. “No, it's fine,” she said. “If you really want to. But don't feel obligated.”

“I want to,” I assured her, sitting down at a nearby table,
reaching into my messenger bag to pull out a pen. “Now how about you guys line up and I'll sign something for each of you.”

It was like herding cats, but eventually they all lined up and I started to sign. Scraps of paper, napkins—the big kid who had asked first—Ramon—wanted his forehead signed. Why not, right? I Sharpied his head with a flourish and he grinned like a loon, prancing around and showing it off to anyone who would look.

As I talked and signed, I could feel Piper watching me from the corner of the room. She looked pleased, but a little stressed as well. Probably worried one of the kids would say something to offend me or act out and make her look bad. But she had nothing to worry about. I'd been doing public appearances like this since I was a little kid with my dad. And he'd been a pro at handling a crowd—even an unruly mob like this.

Finally, when I was finished, I rose to my feet. “Thanks guys,” I said. “Keep watching News 9! Maybe Monday I'll give you a shout-out on air. If Miss Piper here says you've been good, that is.”

The kids all cheered. Piper laughed, scolding them and telling them to settle. Then she ushered me out of the room and back to the front office. The receptionist raised an eyebrow when we entered. “Sounded pretty exciting in there,” she observed. “I guess it's not every day we have a genuine celebrity here at the Holloway House.”

“They seem like a good group,” I said to dissuade the whole celebrity talk.

The receptionist snorted. “I've heard those kids called a lot of things, but ‘good' isn't usually one of them.”

From the corner of my eye I caught Piper stiffen. As if offended on the kids' behalf. As much as she grumped at them, I could tell she was also very proud of all of them and didn't appreciate others putting them down.

“Well, I thought they were great,” I reaffirmed, on her behalf. “I'm glad I got a chance to meet them.” I turned to Piper and held out my arm. “Shall we?”

She took my arm, shooting me a grateful look, and we headed out of the building toward her car. She stopped in front of it, fumbling for her keys. Then she looked back to me.

“Thank you,” she said. “You didn't have to do that. But I know it meant a lot to them that you did. They don't have a lot of excitement in their lives. They'll be talking about this for weeks.”

I waved her off, as if it were no big deal. But inside I was dancing. That approving look of hers was like a potent drug and I was getting seriously addicted.

“It was fun,” I assured her. “After all, I don't often get a chance to use my celebrity for good. I'd almost forgotten how nice it feels.”

She smiled at me and got into her car. I followed suit, feeling warm and happy. That look on her face—it was almost as good as seeing her in that bikini.

Almost.

I closed my door then turned to her. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Is Miguel's open for lunch?” she asked, her mouth quirking.

Oh my God, this girl.

I beamed. “Absolutely.”

*   *   *

T
en minutes later and we were back at Miguel's, sitting in our favorite booth, ordering lunch. Angelita was off somewhere, but her daughter took our orders with a knowing grin—and I knew her mother would hear about this repeat appearance of the lovely Piper the second she got back to the kitchen to text her.

“So,” I said, turning to Piper after we'd placed our orders. “How did you get involved in the Holloway House anyway?”

To my surprise she squirmed in her seat, as if it were an awkward question. “Um,” she said, biting her lower lip, “it's a long story actually.”

I looked around the crowded restaurant. “Like you said before, I'm guessing we have time.”

“True . . .”

She looked down at her hands. I stared at her.

“You used to live there,” I realized aloud.

She nodded, a stain of pink coloring her cheeks. “After my brother died,” she said, “my mother was . . . indisposed for a while. At first they tried to put me in foster care and I bounced around to a few different houses. But no one wanted me long term.” She gave me a rueful smile. “Not that I blame them. I was a real mess back then.”

My heart lurched in my chest as another puzzle piece slid into place. God, I couldn't even fathom the idea of Piper—beautiful, smart, driven Piper—being a mess. But of course she would have been. Who wouldn't be, after suffering such a tragedy—the drowning death of her own brother. I wondered if that was when her mother had started using—a vain attempt to try to cope with the loss of a child. Piper wouldn't have had that luxury, of course—that method to dull the pain. So, while the adults in her life proceeded to fall apart, she'd had no choice but to fend for herself.

Of course she had been a mess. It was a true miracle she wasn't still.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “That must have been tough. You were so young, too.”

“It
was
tough,” she agreed after a pause. “In fact, I probably wouldn't be here today—if it wasn't for Toby, the Holloway House's director. She still works there, actually, but I guess she had the day off today. In any case, she took me under her wing when no one else would. She saw something in me, I guess, that no one else had. That I didn't see in myself.”

“She sounds like a great person.”

Piper nodded. “Toby pushed me to realize my potential. She forced me to work hard in school, get good grades. She insisted even people like me should be allowed to chase their dreams.” She shrugged. “I guess that's why I wanted to do something for Jayden today. These kids—they don't have a
lot of joys in their lives. If I could be a light to them—like Toby was to me back in the day—even just a small one . . .”

She paused and I watched her squirm in her seat again, my heart squeezing in my chest. It was all I could do not to get up, cross the table, and grab her in my arms and never let her go. I had no idea she'd had it so tough. Accomplished so much. No wonder that silly morning writer job had meant so much to her. She'd spent her whole life fighting to get to where she was, with the odds always stacked against her.

“You are even more incredible than I thought you were,” I whispered with genuine awe.

“I don't know about that,” she protested. But she looked pleased all the same.

“So why TV?” I asked. “I mean, I look at you with those kids—how good you are with them. Why isn't that your full-time gig?”

She gave a sheepish smile. “When I was twelve the city cut funding to the Holloway House,” she explained. “Some politician wanted to divert money to further his own political agenda or whatever—I was too young to understand all the details, I just knew they were trying to shut us down. Anyway, there was this reporter who came down to interview us about it all. She was so beautiful, so polished and smart. You know how the kids reacted to seeing you today? That was me back then with her. It was like I was meeting Angelina Jolie or something!”

“Does that make me Brad Pitt?” I asked with a wink.

“Or Billy Bob Thornton . . .”

I grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Anyway, she took me aside and interviewed me, asking me all these questions about my life. Questions no one had ever cared enough to ask before. When she had finished, I asked her if she would be able to save the Holloway House. I was scared, you know? It was the only life I'd really ever known.”

“What did she say?”

A smile flickered on Piper's lips. “She said that
I
was going to be the one to save it. By going on TV and showing
people that this wasn't about politics, it was about people. Children like me.

“The piece aired a week later. And donations started rolling in. Some other politician stepped in, too, and eventually we were able to get our funding back. The whole thing went viral really. Or as viral as you could get before social media. For a few months I was a bit of a celebrity myself.”

I stared at her, something clicking at the back of my mind. “Wait a second,” I said slowly. “You're her, aren't you? The little girl who could. I totally remember that story!”

Piper blushed. “
Everyone
remembers that story. It ran for months, all over the country. I became the poster child for at-risk kids everywhere. It was a bit embarrassing to tell you the truth.”

“Is it wrong to admit my younger self thought you were totally hot?”

She snorted. “I wouldn't expect anything less from
your
younger self.” She grinned. “
Anyway
, that was my first glimpse into the power of journalism. How one person—like that reporter—could turn something so hopeless into something with hope. I decided then and there I wanted to do the same thing someday.”

“And instead you're stuck doing weather with me.”

“I like it actually,” she protested with a laugh. “And hey—it's a step in the right direction, right? I'm very grateful you gave me the opportunity.”