Moonglass (15 page)

I put the key into the ignition, turned it hard, and did my best at nonchalance, despite the heat that crept up my neck. “Yeah, that’s right. James.” I looked at my watch. “Maybe we’ll check them out tonight. He’ll probably just be getting off duty when I get home, if I go soon.” I put my sunglasses on. He stepped backward, then shut the door softly for me. His hands rested on the open window frame, inches away from my shoulder.

I shrugged. “If not, maybe I
will
just bring a flashlight and go myself.” He laughed a little, then looked down at his feet.

“What?” I asked, a bit more indignant-sounding than I would have liked.

He grinned at me and put his hands up. “Nothing, nothing…. I could show them to you one of these days too, if
that’s
what you’re interested in.” I paused, trying to determine if this offer was out of sincerity, interest, amusement …

“Yeah? If you ever want to come down, you know where I live.” I smiled and put the bus in reverse. “Otherwise, I’ll see ya around,” I said brightly, hoping that it sounded casual, but mortified he had read me that easily.

He pushed off the door and waved as he took a step back. “Bye, Anna.”

I nodded when I drove by, and he did the same. In the rearview mirror, I watched as he kicked a rock, sending it bouncing across the asphalt. Then he shook his head and laughed, and I was sure the humorous thing was me. Ugh.

It was close to five by the time I parked the bus in front of our cottage. I shut the motor off and looked out through the windshield for a moment, straight at my mom’s cottage. I didn’t even know she’d lived in it. Had she grown up there? Spent summers? How many nights had she stood on the tiny balcony and breathed the ocean air?

A wave broke the stillness, and I shook the thoughts from my head before getting out. I looked up to the north end of the beach, where falling-down cottages dotted the hill and the bluff above. The sun hung low in the sky, spilling orange warmth onto them. crystal COVE BEACH COTTAGES: ISLANDS IN TIME ON THE CALIFORNIA COAST. That’s what the sign over the little park store said. Again, I had a feeling maybe that’s what my dad was after in coming back here. To go back to an easier, happier time in his life. I could see the draw, the charm he saw in it. His history ran deeper here than I had ever cared to ask about. My mother’s, too, which was the problem. I’d done all my asking about her a long time ago, taken the simple answers, and packaged them up neatly in the back of my mind. And it would have been easy for them to stay that way had we not ended up here, on an island in time.

I pushed the thought from my head and headed up the front steps, but stopped short when something on the doormat caught my eye. It was a small folded piece of paper, weighted down with a cobalt blue piece of sea glass. With my name scrawled on the front.

I stared at it, running through the few possible people it could be from. But the sea glass narrowed it down to only one, and I felt guilty just thinking about her. After that first day of school, I never went back to Joy’s class. Getting switched to another English teacher was surprisingly easy once I told my counselor what was mostly the truth—that I couldn’t take Joy seriously as a teacher when she’d been such a close family friend. Since then I’d done the best I could to put her and all she knew about my mom out of my mind. I’d wanted to at least bring her book back, but each day I carried it in my backpack, I found another reason to avoid her hall way altogether.

I set my bag down and knelt to pick up the glass and the note. Then I sat on the front step, placed the still -folded note in my lap, and examined the glass in the afternoon sun. It was the size of a small marble, time-smoothed and thick, and the color blue that could have been a vase, or a medicine bottle, or … a mermaid tear. I stared down at the note, and waited a breath before I opened it.

Dear Anna,

Found this on the beach today and I knew you would appreciate it. I want you to know, I understand your choice to leave my class. I shouldn’t have
assumed you’d want to talk about your mother with me. For that, I’m sorry. I knew a sparkling, artistic side of her and would love to share that with you
one day. But I realize that sometimes our histories can feel too fragile to sift through. If you decide you’d like to, come find me. And please, keep the
book. It was a source of inspiration for her
.

Maybe it can be for you, too
.

Fondly,

Joy

I sat still, aware only of the rhythmic crash and rush of the waves and the closing-in sensation all around me. I wanted to know about her, I did. I ached to.

But I worried that Joy was wrong. That it wasn’t history that was too fragile, but me. I folded the note up tiny and shoved it down into my bag, along with the glass. Not tonight. Tonight I’d go out with Jillian, away from the cove, and I’d feel better.

When I emerged from the steamy bathroom, our house all golden—warm with late afternoon sunlight—it seemed like forgetting about it all might actually work.

Jillian wasn’t answering her phone, but I wasn’t in a big hurry. I had no idea what the dress code might be for the party, so I pulled on some comfy shorts and a tank top and plunked myself down in my green chair to wait for her to call back. Outside, the beach was deserted except for an elderly couple walking hand in hand along the waterline. They were both barefoot, with their pants rolled up to their calves, which struck me as unusual and especially sweet.

My mind wandered to Tyler and his easy confidence. I’d actually most like to be going somewhere with him tonight, but that hadn’t panned out. Either he was completely oblivious or just not interested. Both possibilities ended with him being unattainable.

And then there he was. Literally. Walking down the beach, carrying a bag and drink tray from the Beachcomber.

I shot up, smoothed my hair, and sat back down, all in quick succession. A minute later, when his face appeared in one of the glass panes of our front door, I was sitting in my chair, casually flipping through the first book I’d grabbed. I was the picture of relaxation.

He knocked, and I gave a little jump, then squinted at the door like I didn’t know who it could possibly be. When we made eye contact, I gave him a puzzled look, which was quickly replaced by a smile before I got up and walked over to the door as casually as I could. Then I opened the door and felt stupid. He was still in the same clothes I had left him in, and I was basically in my pj’s.

Luckily, they were cute and little.

I noticed him notice. “Hi.” His eyes moved quickly over me before he brought them back to my own.

I smiled, my confidence bolstered by this small thing. “I thought you had a dinner date …”

“Yeah, well . She stood me up. Conference call with her new business partner. So I had these burgers from up there.” He motioned to the Beachcomber.

“You hungry?” I scanned the beach for any sign of my dad’s truck before answering, which must have caused a too-long pause.

“You do eat … right?”

“Yeah.” I brought my eyes back to his. “Sorry. You just surprised me.”

He shrugged. “I could probably eat them both if you’re not interested. I was thinking I’d just sit all by myself down there on the sand and then take my flashlight and go check out some of the cottages all by myself too.”

I rolled my eyes. “All right, enough. If you wanted to hang out with me that bad, you could have just asked. Lemme grab a blanket.” He raised an eyebrow. “To sit on,” I said flatly, though I was flattered by the implication, however tiny. I stepped back. “You can come in. I’ll just be a minute.” I grabbed my phone and sent Jill a quick text: “Guess I do have plans. See you Monday.” He scanned the beach just as I had a moment before, then stepped in and stood in front of the window. “So this is what you see every day. Must be nice.” I moved some pillows aside and opened one of the storage benches in the little alcove. “You saw it every day at work.” I pulled out a multicolored quilt, faded and worn thin after many a day spread out on the sand.

“Yeah, I guess. But I wasn’t relaxing in my living room. I was at work. You get to live the life every day.” He turned slightly, so that he faced my mom’s cottage, then nodded at it. “I think we should try to get in there. That’s the only one I haven’t been in.”

“No!” I said, with more force than I had meant to. “I mean, I just think it’d be too easy to get caught in there,” I covered. “Too many people walk up and peek in the windows. I watch them all the time. Plus, my dad drives by a couple times a night, and he’d notice a light in there, believe me. Let’s walk up to the north ones.”

“All right,” he said as we walked out the door. “Let me just warn you, though—there’s a reason they’re condemned. Grab your shoes. And maybe a sweatshirt or something.”

He stood aside for me, and I led the way down the stairs, which I was happy to do because the butterflies in my stomach felt like they must be obvious on my face. Now the night felt like possibility. So much so that I almost didn’t glance over at her cottage as we made our way onto the cooling sand.

Neither one of us said anything as we spread the blanket out. I sat down, and Tyler did too, close enough so that I caught a hint of chlorine again. He pulled two paper-wrapped burgers and a box of fries out of the bag, then some napkins. He handed me one of the sodas from the tray, then held his cup up.

“Cheers. To making it through your first week at Coast.” We each sipped from our straws, then he twisted his cup into the sand and leaned back on his elbows.

“So, what do you think so far?”

I cleared my throat and briefly imagined telling him that I had never found wild hair and the smell of swimming pools so attractive. “It’s not too bad, I guess.” I ran my fingers through the sand next to the blanket. “People are definitely different here from my last school.” He swallowed a mouthful of food and washed it down with a gulp of soda. “In a good way or a bad way?” I looked out at the ocean and tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t know yet. I’ll tell you when I decide.” He nodded. “I don’t doubt it. You don’t seem to be the type to hold back much.”

I cocked my head a bit, surprised at this. He had no idea how much I could hold back.

“Aw, come on.” He grinned. “It was obvious you wanted me from the moment you saw me.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s okay. It happens all the time. That’s why you walked over to the rocks, so I would have to talk to you.”

I had to laugh. Partly because it was true. “
actually
, my dad sent me down there to make sure you were doing your job and keeping people off the rocks. You didn’t get a very good report, sorry to say.”

He shrugged again. “Last week of summer. What can I say?” There was a long pause, and we both looked out at the water. The large fog bank that had been sitting on the horizon was now creeping closer.

Tyler nudged my shoulder. “So come on. What’s one thing that’s different here—in a good way?” I thought about it. “I guess that people aren’t exactly what I expected.” He motioned for me to go on. “Well, look at Ashley. She seems like kind of …”

“Clueless?”

“No. I was gonna say ‘prissy rich girl.’ But she’s actually really sweet and generous.” Tyler nodded like he’d give me the benefit of the doubt on that one.

“And Jillian—the first day I met her, all I wanted to do was beat her at running because she seemed so smug about it. But I kind of like that about her now.” I paused for a sip of my soda. “And then you. well . Jury’s still out on that.”

He grinned. “Fair enough. Maybe a tour of the cottages will help you decide. Eat something. Then I’ll give you the grand tour. Your choice—pick a piece of history.”

The sun melted into the mist all around us, and I shivered in the breeze that had carried it in. I wished I’d grabbed a sweater. Or that he’d just pull me in close to warm me up. We stood in front of a smattering of condemned cottages—all practically falling down, but each one unique. Behind the waist-high fence the state had put in, there was a boardwalk that now rolled and waved over sand and under the ice plant that had taken over. I wondered if the boardwalk had at one time spanned the length of the beach, but it didn’t seem likely.

“Well ?” Tyler faced the cottages. “Which one?”

I swept my eyes over the worn wood of each cottage and settled on one a few steps away. In front of it, half-buried, lay a small blue rowboat that looked like it had sunk into the sand.

“That one.” I pointed. “It looks like a postcard.”

“It is, in the general store. The Carter Cottage. It’s also been painted a million times or so. Originall choice.” He stared straight ahead at the Carter Cottage, and though I did too, I could feel him smiling.

“Hey, you said it was my choice. That one looks the most …”

“Friendly?” he finished.

“Yeah. I dunno if it’s the fog or what, but they all look a little creepy right now.” He turned to face me and shrugged. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want. It’s mainly spiderwebs and mouse crap, anyway.” I scrunched my nose. “But in a few you can find stuff that the people left behind when they had to leave.” automatically my eyes went way down the beach, to my mother’s cottage. “When did they leave again?” I asked casually.

“The state gave them their first eviction notices back in the seventies, but they fought it until around fifteen years ago.” He kicked at the sand in front of him with his toes. “In these ones that haven’t been redone, there’s still a lot of their stuff. That’s what makes the cottages kind of creepy. This one’s that way.

Has a story, too.”

I was still looking down at the beach cottage. My mother’s cottage. The possibility of anything of hers still inside made me feel heavy and slow. I swallowed and forced myself to turn my eyes back to Tyler. When I did, he grinned and nudged me.

“still in? If you get scared … you know, feel free to just grab on to me, and I’ll fight off the cottage ghosts.” He puffed up his chest in exaggerated toughness.

He meant it as a joke, but it took everything I had to offer a smile.