Spring Tide (16 page)

“Want some more?” He smiled.

I splashed him in the face. He palmed my head and pushed me under. I swam to the shallow end with him pursuing me like a piranha, hopped out fast, and wrapped a towel around my arms.

He picked me up and took a seat, putting me in his lap. “What’re you readin’ now?” He pointed to the “journal” that was folded by my stuff. “
Astrophysics Weekly
?”

“Close.” I got up, retrieved it, went back to him, and cradled it on my bent legs. “It’s one of your dirty magazines.”

He looked over my shoulder. “That’s a quality surfing publication. Donovan and I hide our combined porno stash in Julia’s nightstand drawer.”

“Fabulous.” I flipped a few pages. “Let’s see, you got your thonged ass, Brazilian ass, a pencil drawing of some chick’s ass. Here you go, a full-page spread, Great Ass of the Gold Coast. How can you read this?”

“Exceptional ass is part of the culture. Set yourself up with a less conservative suit, I’ll take some pictures, and you can be part of the action. I guarantee it’d be printed.”

“Sweet talker.”

“What do you wanna do today?”

“Movie? I’m feelin’ wicked lazy. I think there’s a horror sequel or a kung fu flick playing at the strip mall around two.”

“Kung fu?” He ran his finger under the string of my bikini top. “We could get sushi or Panda Bear Sandwiches and make it that much more special.”

I threw on my T-shirt and shorts and we left.

The sushi was excellent. I’d never had the chance to see them make the rolls and watched closely, wishing for one of those nifty bamboo mats. He paid for lunch, so I was going to be sure to get the movie tickets. I wasn’t a feminist, but he always picked up the check.

I jumped from the truck and made a beeline for the box office. He flew in front of me, which resulted in us blocking and pushing each other away from the window. He got the movie title communicated to the confused attendant before I could body check him again.

“You’re zesty today.” He gave me a ticket.

“Baby, I’m zesty every day. It doesn’t always come out because you’re emitting this Zen calm to me.”

“For real? You feel that?”

“Major. I love it.”

The film’s fight sequences were extraordinary, what I saw of them. The story line was long and drawn out, the theater was dark, and within a half of an hour I was asleep, my head on Jericho’s shoulder. He woke me when it was over and told me how it’d ended.

“Are you getting sick?” He helped me into his truck.

“No, I think I’m making up for all those nights I should have been in bed earlier, but wasn’t because I was making out with you. I gotta call Sarah. I’m gonna be totally worthless at cards today.” I took my cell from the pocket of my bag, dialed, yawned, explained that I was truly the walking dead, yawned, and hung up. “Don’t take me home. Boy Wonder’s there and his voice only has one volume, outrageous.”

I crashed before we got to his house.

Bright yellow outlined the shutters.

He was sitting next to me. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

I stretched my entire body. “I feel good.”

“I’ll get you coffee.”

I saw a glass of water on the nightstand and slammed it down.

He came back and held his hand under the mug until he was sure I had a secure grasp of the handle. “I have waited so long for today. You are so incredibly beautiful.”

I slanted right and looked at the bathroom mirror. “Nuh-uh, I’ve got pillow lines all over my face. What’s so great about today?” I tried to clear the cobwebs out of my skull.

“Everything okay?” He glimpsed my reflection.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Hungry?” He looked at me and the mirror twice.

“So freakin’ hungry.” The strings of my swimsuit prevented me from scratching the back of my neck.
I slept in a bikini and T-shirt? Man, I must have been out of it.
Neatly folded at the foot of the bed were my jeans and the gray chef coat I always wore at Crazy Jim’s. My face, body, and all internal functions were held in suspended animation, except queasiness pumping from my stomach to my head.
Oh shit…

He took my hand. “Hon, it’s gonna be fine.”

I didn’t speak, my brain going haywire about whether I should pick up the phone or flip out first. I stared harder at the coat.

“Oh … that.” Disappointment clouded his face. “I called Fred, told him you were under the weather. He totally understands.”

“But I’m not sick. That’s it. I can’t stay over here anymore. Damn it, J! I needed to be up. Monday is Senior Citizen Night. It’s a madhouse.”

“It’s not Monday, hon.” He held up his cell and showed me the display. “It’s Wednesday.”

Wednesday?
Thought and speech shut down. I’d gone to sleep on Sunday. The panic returned. Two shifts missed. Then came pure horror.
Jermaine.

There’s no making up for this.
“I missed my interview.”

“Interview?”

“At The Landing.” I paced the room, swearing.

“Hey, Julia?” he yelled. “You worked out something with Jermaine on Kris’s appointment, right?”

“What appointment?” she hollered.

He left the room.

After a minute he came back. “You’re all set. Your interview’s Friday.”

“How’re ya doin’, bright eyes?” Julia popped her head through the doorway. “I ran into Jermaine on Monday and told him you had yellow fever. I’m kidding! Actually, he had a conflict. You’re on for Friday.”

“See,” Jericho said. “We gotcha covered. You should live here, so many benefits.”

“What are you talking about? My interview was Monday at two. I didn’t show up. Screw it.” I snagged underwear out of my backpack. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“’Cause I haven’t seen you this anxious since the snake thing.” He chuckled. “Kris, relax. I even called Sarah on Monday and told her you weren’t feeling well. She said it was about time, you never get sick, and it wasn’t fair that you didn’t sunburn or regularly moisturize. She’s called every day, stopped by once and wants you to call her.”

“Three days? I’ve never slept longer than eleven hours.”

“I’d give you a big, long, boring speech about slowing down but it’s how you’re made. You regularly work doubles and when you’re not at work, you’re working. When you’re not working, your mind is on music. Constantly on music. Anyway, this might be a good time to take a step back, focus on yourself, really
see
who you are.”

“You make no sense.”

I slept for three days? Was I sick?
I closed the bathroom door, turned on the shower, and let the spray reduce hysteria. Something was way off. Jericho had reacted like he didn’t remember my interview at all. And Jermaine rescheduled with Julia? When would she have seen him? Three days?

I came out of the bathroom in bra and undies.

He quickly looked away. “You’re killin’ me.”

“I’m not thinking straight. Forgot the jeans and shirt before I went in, sorry. For goodness’ sake, you see me in a bikini over half the time. It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not the same.” He stepped past me and went into the bathroom.

I pulled my shirt over my head and dialed Sarah. She didn’t believe me when I said I’d been sleeping for three days and I couldn’t blame her because I didn’t believe it either.

I ate two cartons of yogurt, half of a cantaloupe, and three granola bars and was still hungry.

On Friday, I interviewed with Jermaine for about five minutes. He offered the job. I accepted. It was bizarre. The pay was too high for my experience. I had a week to give Freddy the news.

_______

“Hey, gorgeous.” I came up the deck steps of his house.

“Hey, beautiful, how was the game?” Jericho rose from a chair, took my racquet and a grocery bag from my arms, and started for the kitchen. “Are you the Grand Something of the Solar System or whatever? What crazy title were you guys playing for this week?”

“Grand Master Champion of the Universe, and hell no. But, dude, it was close, so close. I almost pulled it out. I aced him not once, not twice, but thrice. I wish you could’ve seen the look on Derek’s face when the ball whizzed right past him.” I’d never aced anyone but that day I was red hot, the music in my head keeping me on target.

“So you did good?” He tossed me a can of crushed tomatoes.

“Best I’ve ever played.”

“Makes you wonder.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“It sounds like your game’s really improved. You might wonder why that is.”

“If you’re saying it’s from surfing, keep dreamin’.” I started to line up ingredients by the stove. “Oh and speaking of surfing, you’ve had me out on that damn board day after day and my arms are so tired from paddling that I had trouble lifting big fish at work the other night. Here’s the deal. I don’t have time to learn to surf and cook for you, which I don’t mind doing at all. But it’d be so helpful if you could do some grocery runs, maybe do some prep like chopping and mincing.”

“Paddling’s important. The faster you can paddle out, the faster you’ll get to the lineup and catch that wave. I can chop.”

I put a knife on the cutting board and a couple stalks of practice celery. I showed him how big I wanted the pieces.

“Do I have to do it that fast?” he said.

“Do you like having fingers?”

“Very much.”

“Go at your own pace then.”

“That’s what I tell you too.”

I watched as he slowly chopped the stalk, forming a new understanding of his challenge with me.

_______

I stopped at the boys’ house to see Derek off and found him digging through the heaps of junk that had accumulated over the months.

I rapped my water bottle on the table “You really gotta leave today? Dude, you could stick around for another couple weeks … just stick around.”

He stopped foraging. “But I can enter the work-study program two weeks before the semester starts and bank some change,” he glanced around the room, “and I gotta help Dad with some stuff around the house. Mom hasn’t been feeling well.”

“She okay?”

“You know how she is. She can have the avian flu and say it’s only a little cold for three weeks.”

“True.” I walked to the end table and picked up a manila envelope. “Lookin’ for this?”

“My financial aid forms, thank you.” He took it from me and put it in his suitcase.

I walked with him out the side door. “Call me sometimes, okay?”

“Definitely.” He tossed his things into the trunk. “It’s not too late to go to Rice.”

“I know.”

“A lot can change in a year.”

I held back irritation. “Rice isn’t going anywhere.”

“What about Jericho?”

“J’s not gonna ditch me. Stop arguing. It’s making me miss you and you haven’t even left yet.”

We’d never gone longer than a couple of weeks without seeing each other and I was monumentally sad. He put his arms around me.

“Take care of yourself.” I set my head on his shoulder.

“You take care of yourself.”

“I’m serious. You drive like a maniac. Observe posted limits.”

“Never.”

We hugged each other hard, not wanting to say goodbye. He slowly brought his head back, but kept his arms around my waist. I glanced at his face. My body went hot and my pulse jumped because he was looking at me
that
way. Right then I should’ve seen it coming, but my heart rate was skyrocketing. His lips touched mine once, then again, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. His tongue teased my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to his. It was frantic. His hands pressed into my back and I locked onto him, my system jacked from the tension, from having had wanted that for so long. The kiss lasted for minutes, my blood pressure soaring.

He pulled away and touched my cheek. “Love you. See ya, Edwards.”

“See ya. Love you too.” I stood there, dumbfounded, my nervous system still amped.

His car started. Dust from the gravel billowed up and he was gone.
Why did he kiss me? Why now?
I’d been emotional a good part of the morning, unhappy that he was leaving. He probably felt the same. He got caught up in the moment—but Derek rarely did that.

I left for work. En route, I slapped my face twice to stop thinking about him. I shouldn’t have let the kiss happen, but I did and couldn’t deny that Derek produced a longing in me, a longing for simplicity—just a boy and a girl, no glowing eyes, no secrets. But Jericho’s voice was engraved on my soul. He was so deep inside of me, I couldn’t escape wanting to be with him or the guilt I was feeling.

_______

“Have a kickass first day. Oh, and tell Jeff I said hi.” Jericho started cracking up and closed my car door before I could ask what was so dang funny.

I walked into the kitchen at The Landing at nine a.m. on the dot. Jermaine wasn’t there. A guy as tall as Nick with a slim body atop twiggy legs walked from the pantry. His eyes were small compared to his grin and the mop of brown on his head that was highlighted with streaks of gold.

He held out his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Jeff.”

“Kris.”

“It’s so great to have you here, have you join our family. Wonderful, wonderful, amazing.” He ushered me to the exit. “We have the pleasure and duty of selecting the fresh catch. It’s an honor and an absolutely joyous beginning of our journey into today.”

Joyous?

We drove to the fish market together. I was a few steps down the dock when I realized Jeff wasn’t behind me. He was lying on the grass by the seawall, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. A couple walked past him, looking to me for explanation. There was none.

“Umm, Jeff?”

“I’m preparing myself, imbibing in the nourishing energies here. Can you feel the flow, the circling winds of spirituality?” He opened his eyes and slowly rose. “I’m ready now.”

I blinked three times. “Fantastic.”

With a perma-smile and eyes filled with awe, Jeff gasped at almost everything on display, commenting on each offering, his voice soft. “In each of these jumbo shrimp I see the goodness that has risen from the sea to be savored. It’s awesome, a miracle.”

Oh man, this guy’s something special.