Sound of the Tide (21 page)

I fought back the tears and embraced her.

“Thank you, Cat. Thanks for always being there for me. But I think I have forgotten how to open my heart.”

She rubbed my back, and it felt nice. I almost started crying, like a little child with a skinned knee. Only there was no reason to cry because my wound was no longer bleeding. It had scabbed over already.

“I am sure there is a man, Piper, who one day will refresh your memory. When he makes you smile without touching you or wasting his words, then”—she turned to Marcus, who came up behind her and nodded in agreement—“then you should allow it to happen.”

I didn’t know what to say. My head was spinning, and my thoughts were running riot in my mind, like unorganized socks in a drawer. I just nodded and opened the car door. I wanted to drive away, but somethin
g . . .

Something was bubbling beneath the surface. There was something there that tried to rouse me, tried to make me jump to my feet, because it was important.

I massaged my forehead and racked my brain. I tried to grab and hold on to the thought, but it kept slipping through my fingers like sand.

I sat down behind the wheel, turned around to Amber, who was fast asleep in her car seat in the back with her tiny mouth open, and let my eyes wander over my moving box on the passenger seat.

Cat’s words had awakened something within me, something of importance. Something so important that it was impossible to ignore it even a moment longer. And it was nearby, I could feel it. I looked at the photo albums inside the cardboard box, the Madonna CD, the blue T-shirt. I closed my eyes, an
d . . .
there it was!

I could see it clearly: He had blown me a kiss and was jogging across the fire station’s courtyard. He was pulling off his jacket in midrun.

“Kevin!” I breathed and jumped back out of the car.

Cat and Marcus looked at me in surprise when I ran back inside without an explanation and rushed up the stairs all the way to the apartment. In the bedroom, I yanked open the closet we had ignored because Cat had said she would donate all of the clothes in it.

But there, underneath Daniel’s shirts and pants, was the wooden box where he had always kept his Alex Rodriguez baseball.

This ball would bring Kevin back to me. I closed my eyes and smiled—without anyone touching me or wasting words.

A
N
U
NUSUAL
M
IX

April/May

I
t was a weekend, and I was sitting with Amber on the beach and enjoying the sunshine. She was trying to roll into the sand every chance she got, forcing me to pull her back into the middle of the blanket every few minutes or so and suffer her short-lived temper tantrum. But this didn’t hurt my excellent mood in the slightest. It was almost as if cleaning out Daniel’s things had closed a door.

I was downright relaxed. Of course, not a day went by that I didn’t think of him, and since Amber’s eyes were more and more taking on the unparalleled gray of her daddy’s eyes, this would probably not change anytime soon. What did change, however, were my memories of him. They weren’t tearing deep, painful wounds anymore, but rather they were reverberations of a beautiful dream. They exuded calm. I had made my peace with fate, and the few times that I was sad happened because I thought it was unfair that Daniel couldn’t share in Amber’s life and development.

Right now she was babbling loudly to herself, even drowning out the sound of the tide with her tiny voice. I had not paid attention to what the sea was whispering in my ear for the longest time, mostly because I had given up wanting to paint a clear picture of my future. I had come to terms with taking each day as it came, accepting my moods, my feelings, my thoughts for what they were, and trying to make the most of it.

And this new attitude was working surprisingly well for me. So well, in fact, that I had arranged to meet Jenna that afternoon. We wanted to take a stroll through the town’s flea market and chat about Frank—because Jenna thought he was going to propose sometime soon. Was she freaking out about it, or was her secret heart’s desire coming true? Today I was determined to find out!

Feeling cheerful, I buried my feet in the warm sand and couldn’t help but smile at Amber, who had been pushing herself around so much that her dainty sun hat had slipped over her eyes. I tickled her belly and her tiny naked feet. She squealed and, laughing, I raised her high up in the air. Her mouth was as caked in sand as her fingers were, and I had to wipe away that unappetizing mixture of sand and spit before I could give her a big fat smackeroo on the cheek.

“What do you say, sweetie pie? Should we go and get dressed up for Auntie Jenna?”

Amber was kicking her feet, and sand trickled from her top—right into my neckline.

Great, just great! This little brat seemed to really be enjoying herself, because she kept laughing and gibbering away as I got covered in more sand trying to fold up the beach blanket.

We climbed the steps up to the house, sand still trickling from our clothes, and left a very visible trail on the hardwood floors.

I might have gotten worked up over it, might have frantically fetched a broom—but instead I felt I had finally arrived where I wanted to be. A house by the beach where life is happening is sandy, and that’s just the way it was.

That was how I had imagined this place when I came to visit it with Daniel. A bit of a mess, showing that this was a home; sand on the floors, proving that there were more important things in life than always wiping your feet; and the laughter of children, breathing love into it all.

And so I left the trail of sand where it was, sighed a happy sigh, and at the same time hoped that I wouldn’t find more of it inside Amber’s diapers.

When we met up with Jenna at the harbor later that afternoon, Amber and I were once again sand-free, wearing white and airy sundresses, and both of us were in a fantastic mood. I had put up my hair and pushed my sunglasses up over my curls. Amber was sitting in her jogging stroller, and for the first time I had tamed her soft curls with a tiny barrette. Her hair had really started to grow.

She was enjoying our outing as much as I was, curiously studying everything that was happening around her.

“Wow, Piper, you guys look very summery!” Jenna called out. She herself looked super-stylish in her wide bubble skirt and halter top. Candy-colored bracelets complemented the black-and-white stripes of her outfit and made her look very summery, too.

“So do you!” I returned her compliment, and we were on our way. The flea market was bustling with people, and it smelled of warm Belgian waffles with maple syrup. We strolled past the rows of vendors, listened to records on a really old gramophone, and laughed at a novelty salt and pepper set that depicted a pair of fat naked guys.

“Well, I guess it’s a conversation starter if you bring it out during Sunday lunch with the in-laws,” Jenna laughed.

“Or the exact opposite,” I pointed out, picturing Cat’s shocked expression. “Speaking of in-laws, any news on Frank and his proposal?” I asked as we passed a box full of old-fashioned rings.

“Oh God, Piper!” Jenna groaned and theatrically shook her head. “I almost wish he wouldn’t ask—what should I tell him? That I can’t imagine being tied to the same guy for the rest of my life?”

She made it sound as if it were an unthinkably harsh punishment.

“On the other hand, Frank’s great. I mean, seriously! He’s got it going on!” She gave me a wink as if to drive home what exactly Frank had going on. As if the wink were necessary!

“You can’t marry the guy just because he’s good in bed!”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t think about it if he weren’t good in bed!”

An elderly lady gave us a shocked stare, and I giggled. Maybe we should try to keep our voices down.

“Oh, look!” Jenna called out and pointed at the next stand, where they were selling hand-carved wooden toys. Excitedly, Jenna held up a little red tank engine that was part of a toy train set.

“Amber, look, how do you like this?” she asked, handing the tank engine to Amber, who, without a moment’s hesitation, put it into her mouth.

“She’s in her oral stage,” I explained, and got the vendor to pack up the brightly painted train cars as well.

As we continued, we compiled a list of pros and cons of a possible marriage between Jenna and Frank, which eventually led us to the conclusion that Frank—as long as he wasn’t making out with every single woman who entered the café—was quite the catch. Every disadvantage we identified came down to Jenna’s fear of commitment and her emotional immaturity—which, of course, she vehemently denied.

“Emotional immaturity?” she said in mock outrage, but couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you trying to tell me that in terms of relationships I am currently”—she pointed at Amber—“in my oral stage?”

I doubled over with laughter at her words’ unmistakable double meaning, and Jenna dabbed at the tears in the corners of her eyes to avoid smudging her mascara.

“Honey, if that’s the case then I totally understand why he wants to marry you!”

We laughed and laughed, and it was as if we were still in high school, talking about ourselves and cute boys and the excitement of first sexual experiences. Fun times that I never wanted to forget! Somewhere in between the market stalls, someone was plucking away on a guitar, which only emphasized this feeling of traveling down memory lane. Suddenly, I was a teenager all over again.

“Wanna ride?” Kevin asked, casually leaning out the window of his car. The fast, heavy bass of his stereo was swirling all around me on the sidewalk, and my textbooks felt very heavy all of a sudden. Kevin’s sunglasses were hiding his eyes, but he was smiling, and I liked the little dimple in his chin.

I took off my own pair of sunglasses and coolly hung them from the neckline of my T-shirt. It was noon and mercilessly hot that day, and I didn’t need to think twice about his offer.

“Sure.” I climbed into the car and threw my backpack onto the backseat, next to his guitar.

“Why are you walking home?” he asked as we got going. The wind was blowing through the open windows, and my long curls were flying all over my face.

“Meh, my parents are being annoying. Dad took away my car privileges because I had a fight with Mom,” I explained, and the anger about my mother started boiling up again.

“What did she do?”

I turned in my seat to face him, and pointed at his jeans, which were torn at the knees. That was what my jeans were supposed to look like. But instea
d . . .

“She actually stitched up the tear in my new jeans! Can you imagine? She’s so clueless, you know!”

Kevin laughed and shook his head.

“Classic parenting, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“So what now?”

I looked at my shorts and grinned.

“Now I just cut them off—but I also don’t have a car!”

Kevin slowed the car down, took a sideways glance at my bare legs, and winked at me. “It suits you, being such a rebel and all.”

I could feel myself blushing and turned away. We pulled onto my street, and I reached for my backpack.

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, looking at his guitar.

“Band practice, and after, we’re driving up to the cape to go for a swim.”

I nodded. Kevin was cool—and a nice guy. An unusual mix.

“Wanna come with?” he asked after I had already climbed out of the car.

My heart was beating fast, almost as if I had walked the entire way home. I looked at him, feeling a little awkward. “Sure. Can you come and pick me up, though, because
I . . .
”

“You don’t have a car—got it! Sure. See you later, then!”

That was how it started. Kevin, me, and his guitar, and the two of us swimming in the thundering waves up by the cape.

I was suddenly feeling pretty hot, and not just thanks to Jenna’s risqué comments and my warm and fuzzy memories.

The air was stale and hot between the rows of vendors, and we needed a break. And so we treated ourselves to an ice cream, which we ate on the boardwalk while enjoying the late afternoon sun that was already low on the horizon. I would surely have a nice little tan by the time evening rolled around. Amber was chewing on a cookie, and I handed her the travel bottle with the cold juice.

“How are you doing?” Jenna suddenly asked out of the blue, with her eyes squinting over the sparkling waters.

I licked the half-melted ice cream from my fingers and shrugged my shoulders.

“Fine.” It was the truth. “I think I just needed a while to find myself again. It’s what you said—I kind of lost myself. And every single day I was wondering what Daniel might think or what he might expect of me—I mean, if he could see me, of course.”

“What about now?”

“He’s dead—and I’m not. I will always love him and never forget him, but I think I’m slowly getting over him. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

I dug deep, listened deep inside, but I no longer found pain. All was well.

“That’s good, Piper. Really good.”

“I think so, too!”

We hugged, and I offered a big round of wet wipes so we could clean our fingers and de-crumb Amber’s hands, or rather the entire child, before browsing the last and final row of the flea market.

We had almost reached the end when I caught sight of a floor lamp.

It was love at first sight. I had to have it!

Its base was crafted from a piece of gnarled driftwood, and the shade was covered in ecru-colored silk. It would fit my living room perfectly! I was finally able to turn on the ceiling light that had made Daniel stay late at the house that last evening of his life, but it never felt quite right and I could never get comfortable with it on. This new lamp would provide cozy illumination while offering that beach feeling I always wanted.