Never Forgotten (Never Forgotten Series) (7 page)

Evan’s grin widened. “Briefly.” I took a sudden interest in the anchor as my cheeks burned. Once again, Grandpa Jamie didn’t notice.

“Good…good,” he said absentmindedly. He was already walking away.

Evan held out his hand to help me into the boat. I took it and climbed in carefully. My sea legs were far from developed. I’d only been on a boat twice, and both times were with Kim’s family. The summer before eighth grade, they invited me to their cabin in Minocqua, Wisconsin. They vacationed there every summer. That week I got violently sick both times I was on the boat. I was miserable. Kim and her family were sympathetic, but they never invited me back.

“You just couldn’t stay away from all this, could you?” Evan teased, gesturing to himself. I rolled my eyes and laughed. He rewarded me with a dimpled grin before turning to pick something up from his pile of tools. It looked like a small, wooden block.

“How are your sanding skills?” he asked.

“Nonexistent?” I answered, adding, “I’ve never done it, but how hard can it be?”

“It’s not,” he said, handing me the tool, “but there is a definite technique. Here, I’ll show you.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and guided me down until we were kneeling side by side in front of the board he just installed. He covered my hand with his and said, “You want to maintain an even pressure and move with the grain, not against it.”

I moved the block back and forth a few times, my hand under his. My blood pounded in my ear, so loud he could probably hear it. His hand was warm and firm on mine. Stay cool, I told myself. I looked over at him and asked, “Like this?”

His eyes fixed on mine. He didn’t move his hand. “Perfect,” he said, as his gaze moved to my lips. I swallowed.

“How’s she doing?” Grandpa Jamie called from the boat next to ours. We jerked apart.

“Fine,” Evan called back, getting to his feet. To me, he said, “I’ll go and get the paint.”

Sanding was kind of relaxing. I took comfort in the repetitive nature of it. The sun was hot on my back, but it felt good. I always soaked it up in the summer, knowing that I would be wishing for some of its warmth in the dead of winter.

Icy cold water dripped on my shoulder and made me jump. I looked up to the source and saw Evan holding out a water bottle. “Sorry for startling you,” he said. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thanks.” I opened the cap and downed half the bottle. I didn’t realize how thirsty I had gotten. “Did you get the paint?”

Evan held up one gallon of paint and two brushes in response. “Is the sanding done?”

“Almost.” I pointed to the last board. “I just have that one to finish.”

“Okay.” Evan set the paint supplies down near the boards I’d already sanded. “I’ll get started then, and you can join me when you’re done.”

I finished sanding as fast as I could, and then went over by Evan. He smiled and handed me a paintbrush. “You’ve painted before, right?”

“A little.” Mom and I had painted the kitchen in our old house. I didn’t tell him about the mess we made in the process. We were covered in paint, but laughing when we were done.

“Why’d you come here today?” Evan asked.

I shrugged and dipped my brush in the paint.

“Just a little,” Evan cautioned as he watched me.

“I just wanted to hang with my grandfather a bit, I guess.”

“Is it hard?”

“What?”

“Getting to know them?”

“No…yes…I don’t know. It’s weird. I don’t understand why we never visited them or why they didn’t come see us.”

“Yeah. That’s a little strange, although I can guess why they didn’t come see you.”

I looked at Evan and waited for his answer. His eyes took in the boats surrounding us before he gestured with his paintbrush. “This takes year round dedication. Your grandfather can’t leave.”

“Sounds hard,” I said. Evan returned his brush to the paint bucket. In his haste, droplets of paint flew, and one landed on my nose. Evan started laughing before brushing it off with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Sorry about that.” He grinned at me, but it soon faltered. Once again, I was locked in his gaze. We leaned toward each other. He brushed a strand of hair back from my face and tucked it behind me ear. “Meara?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go to dinner?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“With you?” I asked, realizing that was an incredibly stupid thing to ask.

Evan grinned again. “Yeah. That would be the general idea.”

“Okay.”

I
took my time getting ready, applying makeup and a bit of my favorite perfume. I brushed my hair, contemplating putting it up, but decided to leave it down. When I finished getting ready, I sat back on my bed and tried to concentrate on the latest mystery I was reading. It didn’t work. I stared outside instead. It was pitch black and rain pelted the long wall of windows in my room. About an hour after we got home, the skies went from overcast to ominous gray to pitch black before the clouds broke. It down poured for over twenty minutes, and I wondered how bad the driving conditions were.

The doorbell rang. I waited, holding my breath, until Grandma Mary called, “Meara! Evan’s here to see you!”

I stood, smoothed my shirt, and tucked my hair behind my ear. I didn’t want to seem too anxious. When I came around the corner, he was standing in the living room talking to my mom. He looked fantastic in dark jeans and a bright red polo.

“Hi,” I said. I hated the way my voice sounded all breathy and weak, but Evan didn’t seem to mind.

His smile just widened. “Hi yourself.”

It was about then that I realized we had three sets of eyes on us, observing our every move and every word. They were wearing identical “I-told-you-she’d-go-for-him” expressions, too.

“Do you have a raincoat?” Evan asked.

“Um, no.” I thought of my windbreaker. It would be drenched in two minutes in this weather.

Evan held out a purple and turquoise raincoat. “It’s Katie’s, so I’m sure it’ll fit.”

I slipped my arms in. “Where’s yours?” I asked.

“By the door. I didn’t want to get the floor wet.”

“How thoughtful,” Grandma Mary said, and I bit my cheek to keep from laughing. Evan went to put his raincoat on. He was right, of course, as there was a puddle of rainwater on the hallway tile beneath it.

“Do you have a mop I can use?” Evan asked.

Grandma Mary waved us off. “I’ll clean it up. You kids have fun. Be safe.”

“I’ll have Meara back at a decent hour,” Evan said.

If anyone replied, I didn’t hear it.

The rain was pouring down in sheets, and I was glad he had my hand. I had no idea how we were going to see to drive anywhere. When we got to the car, Evan dropped my hand, shouting, “Sorry, this is an exception I make to the door opening rule. Get in as fast as you can!”

I maneuvered fast and shut the door, slipping off the hood of the raincoat. The car smelled a bit like salami. “What’s that smell?” I asked.

“Sandwiches,” Evan said and grinned. “It’s too crappy outside to drive anywhere far, so I thought I’d bring the date to you. Let’s drive to the lighthouse. It’s close, and we’ll get a little privacy.”

My heartbeat picked up considerably when he mentioned privacy. What did he have planned for the evening? He was cute and all, but I barely knew him. If Evan sensed my nervousness, he didn’t say anything. Music played softly, but otherwise the drive was quiet. Visibility was poor. I didn’t want to distract him.

When we reached the small parking lot of the lighthouse, Evan shut off the car. The rain pelted the roof of the car. The parking lot lights revealed we were the only car there. Go figure.

“You’re right about the privacy part,” I commented. Evan grinned and reached into the backseat, pulling out a bag of chips, two subs, and a couple of Cokes. He handed them to me, then he leaned behind my seat and picked up a small, black case. Evan winked as he unzipped it, and I realized what it was. “We’re going to watch a movie in your car?”

Evan frowned. “That’s okay, right?”

“Sure,” I said. “What are we seeing?”

“Goonies. I hope you don’t mind. I have a thing for old movies.”

“I love that one!” It was one of mom’s favorites, so we watched it often when I was growing up. The food was in my lap. Evan took one of the sandwiches and nodded to the other.

“They’re the same. I didn’t know what you like, so I just got ham and turkey.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Thanks.” I unwrapped my sandwich and bit in. Evan did the same. He opened the bag of chips and laid it on the seat between us. We watched the movie and laughed at the same parts. The windows steamed up, and the rain pelted down. It was the most crazy, romantic date ever.

The rain began to let up just as the movie ended. Evan drove back to my grandparents’ house and parked. With the dome light on, I helped him gather all the empty wrappers. Between us, we had polished off the chips.

“It’s nice to see a girl with an appetite,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. “You ate most of them.”

He reached for a strand of my hair, twirling it on his finger. “I had a good time.”

“Me, too.” My voice sounded quiet and a bit shaky. Was he going to kiss me? Should I say something else? Just as I was about to spout something stupid out of nervousness, Evan leaned across the seat and kissed me. It was light and fast. His lips tasted salty, like the chips.

“Is it too much to ask to see you again tomorrow? I know it’s Sunday, and I have to work, but only a half day. I can come by after, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. “I’d like that,” I finally managed to croak.

He slid his hand along my hair once last time, and then he reached over me to open my door. “Goodnight, Meara.”

“Night, Evan.”

The rain continued to fall, though softer now. I was about to shut the door, when I remembered Katie’s raincoat. I went to shrug it off, but Evan shook his head.

“Keep it. She’s got about three more. You’ll need it. Rains a lot in these parts.”

“Then I’ll look forward to more movie nights.”

I heard his laughter as I shut the door. I couldn’t believe I just said that! But he did already ask me out on another date. Living in Canada wasn’t turning out to be such a bad thing. Nope, not at all.

Mom was curled up on the couch when I came in. She opened her eyes, blinked twice, and stretched. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah. We did.” Hanging the coat in the hall, I joined her on the couch. I snuggled up and rested my head on her shoulder. She smelled like her usual shampoo and gardenias. It reminded me of so many similar moments that I felt myself relax.

“So?”

“We drove to the lighthouse and watched a movie in the car.”

Mom sat up a bit and looked at me. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s interesting.”

“It was fun.”

She gave me a quick hug. “Do you like it here?”

“It’s not bad.”

“I’m not a horrible mother for bringing you here?”

I laughed at the voice she used. It was the voice she used for the Big Bad Wolf and all the other villains in my childhood books. “No, you’re not a bad mother.”

She gently pushed me up and turned to face me on the couch. She looked almost sad, certainly serious

“I start my cancer treatments on Monday,” she said. “In Halifax. Would you mind driving me?”

“Of course, Mom.”

“We’ll be there for a few hours.”

“No problem. I’ll bring a book and my laptop.”

“Thanks, honey.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and stood up. “I’m going to bed. It’s pretty late.”

“What time?” I asked. When she looked at me blankly, I added. “Monday. What time do we need to leave?”

“Probably about nine.”

“Ok. Night, Mom.”

"Sharon Quinn?” An elderly nurse with brassy red hair stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand.

“Should I come in with you?” I asked.

Mom patted my knee. “No, honey, I’ll be okay. Just wait for me here.”

I leaned forward and sifted through a stack of magazines on the table. Most were from last year and looked rather sad with soft, torn covers.

“That your mum?” I looked up to find a girl sitting across from me. I hadn’t noticed her before. Her coppery curls fell past her shoulders, and her nose was splattered with freckles of the same shade. She eyed me with wide, green eyes. She looked about my age, but she wore bell-bottom jeans and a Bob Marley t-shirt.

“Yeah,” I said and sat back. None of the magazines interested me.

“First time here?” she asked. Her voice lilted. Was she Irish? When I nodded in reply, she said, “That’s rough.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Why are you here?”

“Me mum,” she said. “Like you.” She inclined her head toward the door where my mom had gone. “She’s in there now.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I changed the subject. “I’m Meara,” I said as I extended my hand. She looked at it briefly before she shook it.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ula.” She gave me a tentative smile. Her name was so unique. She pronounced it Oo-la. “Do you want to see something?”

Curious, I asked, “What?”

“Er, rather, somewhere.” When I hesitated, her eyes filled with understanding. “It will be hours before she’s done. Trust me. We’ll be back here in plenty of time.”

She stood up and threw her brown leather backpack over one shoulder. Her jacket was army green and frayed on the edges. Her entire outfit looked like something from 1970.

“Where you’d find such vintage clothes?” I asked as I hitched my own backpack on my own shoulder and followed her to the exit.

She looked down at her outfit. A look of surprise crossed her face before her checks tinged pink. “Oh, you know. Shopping.”

“Are there good resale shops nearby?”

“Um. Yes? Uh. No?” She sighed. “I don’t know actually. I got this in Ireland.”

I should have figured good vintage clothes would be from somewhere else. I loved old t-shirts. Hers rocked. “Are you from there then?”

“Around there, yes.” She beamed at me. “Have you ever been?”

“No,” I said. “This is my first time out of the United States.”

“Is that where you were…um, from?” she asked. We were crossing the parking lot now, walking to the park next door.

“Yes. Wisconsin,” I said. “Have you been there?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve never been there. Is it nice?”

“I liked it,” I answered distractedly. A rhythmic beat pounded in my ear, and my mouth filled with a brackish taste. My senses sharpened as my nerves were soothed.

“Meara?” Ula was watching me closely, a worried look on her face.

“Did you ask me something?” I focused on her face. The noise subsided slightly.

“Do you like it here?” she asked.

“I do,” I said. “Where are we going?”

She grinned at me and skipped a little. “I found this spot here. You won’t believe it. We can sit near the ocean.”

“The hospital is that close?”

“I was surprised too.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “I like to come here. I hope you do. It’s nice to have a friend.”

“It’s been lonely, huh?” I felt bad for her. I couldn’t imagine just sitting in that waiting room, day after day. That would have happened to me, too, if Ula hadn’t come along.

“It has,” she said. “But not anymore, right?”

A narrow path led us down to the coastline. We sat on flat rocks about five feet above the water. Close enough that a slight mist filled the air when the waves broke, but high enough not to get wet.

Ula used her backpack as a backrest. She leaned back and crossed her legs at the ankles. Her face was serene. “I love it here. It calms me.”

She stared up at me as if wondering what I thought. I looked at the water. It was wild and frothy, nothing calming about it. I couldn’t see anything but whitecaps on the horizon. “Is it always this rough?” I asked.

“Usually,” she said. “If you want peaceful, try the Pacific. The Atlantic? She’s all feisty and fierce.”

I laughed. “You talk about the ocean like a person.”

Ula quirked a red eyebrow at me. “In many ways, she is.”

“I suppose.” I dropped down onto the rock next to her, crossed my legs, and rested my arms on my knees. “It’s all new to me.”

“You’ve never been in the water before?” Ula asked.

I shrugged my shoulder. “Lakes, but never the ocean.”

Ula leaned close. “And, I’ve never been in a lake.”

“No?”

“No,” she confirmed. She leaned back against her pack again. “We’re quite a pair then, aren’t we?”

“Do you go to school here?” I asked. I liked her, and it would be nice to have another friend at school.

“I’m homeschooled,” she said, almost as though she was apologizing. “We move a lot.”

“I bet that’s rough.”

Ula studied me for a minute. “It’s okay. After all, I get to meet all kinds of interesting people. Like you.”

I shook my head. “I’m not that interesting.”

Ula looked surprised. “Yes, you are.”

She said it with such conviction that I almost asked her what she knew that I didn’t. In the end, I just laughed. “You apparently don’t get out much.”

She looked like she was going to argue with me, but she laughed instead. “Maybe you’re right.”

We stayed at the park for several hours. The path down to the water was nearly impossible to spot. Wispy vegetation and leafy trees camouflaged the opening. I was surprised Ula ever found it, but then again, she had plenty of time to explore while her mom received treatment. No one joined us all morning, and the seclusion was calming.

“Do you want a sandwich?” Ula held something wrapped in wax paper out to me. “I brought two.”

“Why two?”

“I never know how long I’ll be here.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought to bring anything with me this morning. I took the package from her. “Thanks.”

“It’s vegetarian,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind. I don’t eat meat.”

“No problem. Thank you.”

It was good. Cucumbers, sprouts, tomatoes, and shredded carrots with a hummus spread.

“Water?” Ula handed me a bottle.

“Thanks,” I said. “I forgot that, too.”

“It was your first time,” she said. “You’ll remember next time.”

“Let’s hope so!”

We both laughed. Ula stuffed all the wrappers back in her bag and then stood.

“I’m sure me mum’s almost done,” she said.

“Of course,” I said. “Thank you again, Ula. You made what could have been a long, boring day fun.”

Ula looked pleased. “My pleasure.”

We returned to the hospital, and I excused myself to use the restroom. When I got back to the waiting room, Ula was already gone. Her mom must have been waiting for her. Hopefully she wasn’t waiting too long, and Ula didn’t get in trouble.

Resuming my previous spot, I pulled out my book and waited for my mom. I was in a much better mood. I had a new friend and a secret hangout spot.

***

“You’ll be okay?” Mom asked. She tried to sound calm, but I heard the anxiety in her voice. Sitting on her bed, I watched her pack. It was hard to believe that yesterday I waited for her at the clinic and, today, in a few hours, she would fly to Toronto for the rest of the week. Dr. Stahlman was sending her to a cancer research institute. Some of Mom’s test results concerned him.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Will you?” She worried about me, but I had my grandparents, Katie, and Evan. She was the one who would be alone.

She managed a wry smile. “I’ll survive, I think, under the constant attention of medical staff. Don’t worry about me.” She finished packing and sat next to me, a slight frown on her face. I knew the look. It meant she wanted to tell me something serious—something that had been bothering her.

“Talk to your grandparents, okay?” she asked. It was not what I expected her to say. “I know you’re just getting to know Evan, and you like him. And, I like him, too, but it would mean a lot to your grandparents if you spent time with them.”

“Okay, Mom,” I promised. “I will.”

“Good.” She looked at her watch, kissed my cheek, and stood. “I better get going. You never know how long it will take to get through security.”

I stood and walked her to her car, carrying the suitcase. She kissed me again and promised to call daily with updates. I held back the tears as I watched her drive away.