Spring Tide (9 page)

“Ya never know what the day will bring.”

“Well said.”

He brought me inside. The furnishings were simple and comfortable in a palette of tans, creams, and greens. The main room rose two stories in height and where there weren’t doors or windows, the walls were covered with seascape paintings: some oil, some watercolor, some large, some small, each one different.
This is a grown-up house. Where’s the trash, the mess, the stolen fiberglass figures from fast-food playgrounds?

I put on a tie-dye bikini in the powder room near the kitchen and then went outside where he was already in the water, its light reflecting off his back. His hair was so much longer when it was wet, trailing a good four inches past his shoulders. I dove in, came up next to him, and folded my arms on the side like he was doing.

“I go to the parts store a few times a week. It’s across the street from Panda Bear Sandwiches.” He put his head on his arms. “I’ve seen you talking to the woman who puts the flyers on everyone’s windshields. She doesn’t … bother you?”

I rubbed my chin on my wrist. “The first time I saw her, I probably stared at her too much. Dude, I’d never seen anyone with a lazy eye before. But she was at my car and I was opening the door …”

“So what’d you do?”

“I talked to her. She’s really into food like I am, has a great sense of humor. What?”

“Nothin’. It’s just—”

“It’s not her fault she was born like that.”

He raised his head. “Kris, I don’t see anything wrong with her.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“I was trying to say most people wouldn’t take the time. I like that you do.”

“Well, when I was younger I had a hard time making friends. In a way, I kinda know how she feels.”

_______

My therapist took the blue race car away from me. “Krissy, you can with play it in a minute, but first I want you to try again. You can talk. I’m safe.”

I didn’t speak for the remaining fifteen minutes of the session. I reached for the car but she wouldn’t let me have it. I wanted to go home. I was only five. What she was asking was too hard.

_______

The pool scattered light across the deck and the thrum of the waves grew louder with the wind. I put the memory away. Jericho opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t want to elaborate.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice that your house doesn’t look like you live with a bunch of guys, or at least guys like Nick,” I said.

“I live with friends of my parents. They took me in when I was sixteen. They go out of town a lot so it’s a good arrangement.” His gaze was too intent. “So what happens when summer’s over?”

“I’m supposed to be going to Rice this fall but I’m putting it off for a year.”

“Funds?”

“I have a full scholarship.”

His eyebrows came together. “Then you have to use it, right?”

“It was set up by a new foundation that did a very bad job of wording the terms of the award. Let’s just say I’ll be the only one to have the luxury of a year off and probably only because I tested out of fifteen credit hours.”

He flicked a bug away from me. “Still, why not go? Why work?”

“You ask a lot of questions. I have to work. I’d be batty if I didn’t have something to do or somewhere to go. And I’m not going this September because I’m not ready. I mean, I am but I’m not. It’s like I’ve always known what I’m supposed to be doing, where to go next, but this time—”

“No dreams for your life?”

“Well yeah. It’d be killer to have my own restaurant. I could see myself working in radio, talking music half the day or doing programming … it’s just, I can’t go after any of that right now. I need to find something, something important …”
Oh God, I sound like a character in a soap opera. Wrap it up.
“Since before graduation I’ve felt like there’s a signpost laying ahead that’ll give me direction—if that makes any sense.”

“Actually, it makes a lot of sense.”

The day my award notice came, reading it made me feel proud but uncertain, an overwhelming uncertainty I couldn’t ignore. Derek was the first person I talked to about it. He didn’t get it, spent a month trying to change my mind. But Sarah supported me, saying that I wasn’t going to go dumb in one year. The only thing I’d really cared about was that Mom understood, or at least mostly understood. I was suddenly struck that I’d volunteered information to Jericho that was private. “I’m telling you stuff I don’t want to tell you.”
Kris, shut up now.

He laughed. “Good, ’cause any day now I’ll be telling you stuff I don’t wanna tell you, stuff you probably don’t wanna know. Fair?”

“Deal.”

Thunder shook the deck. A storm was coming up fast, very fast, thick clouds driving from the east over the water. As I came up the steps of the pool he wrapped a thick, blue towel around me and gently pulled my hair from underneath it. I thanked him and perched on the deck wall to scout for lightning.

“You’ve got goose bumps.” He sat close to me, put his arm around my shoulder and rubbed my upper arm.

“I’m like a lizard. It takes my body a while to adjust to temperature change.” I glanced at him.

Water ran from his hair in thin veins, following the curve of his temple to his cheekbones and dripping away. His eyes glistened, turquoise against azure, sparkles resuming with every blink. He slowly inclined his head, stopping for a second midway, and kissed me softly. His cheek brushed mine and when he sat back his irises were glowing with pale, blue light. My eyes widened, staring into the radiance of his. His lids closed and his eyes were normal again. I was taken aback by the sweetness of the kiss, but his eyes …

Lightning ruptured the sky. Multiple hits rearranged the horizon, brightening the beach and our faces for one hot second.

“I’ve never seen that before, lightning over the ocean,” I said. “Whenever there’s been a storm, I always look the wrong way and miss it. Where does the electricity go?”

There were several intense streaks and more claps of thunder. Rain poured from the sky, sweeping the ocean like fire and hammering the deck. We ran inside and stood at the French doors off the living room, his body behind mine, one arm draped across my shoulders. Flashes of silver connected to a sea of ink, the waves pounded the shore, and his kiss stayed with me.

“I loved thunderstorms when I was a kid.” I pulled the towel down and around my waist.

“Me too.”

“A negative charge seeks a positive charge to make the bolt and the expansion creates the shockwave of thunder. The bolt can strike several times in a fraction of a second, too fast for the eye to see.”

“I didn’t know that.” His arm muscle flexed. “I associate lightning with transference.”

“Of energy.”

“Of existence.”

Existence? That’s deep.

As quickly as the storm came up it died down to a sprinkle. I excused myself to get dressed. A minute later, I came out of the bathroom, the comb in my hand fighting knots of wet hair. He motioned to a chair and removed the torture device from the bramble.

I sat. “It’s useless. It tangles if you look at it the wrong way.”

He ran his palms over my hair a couple of times and the comb slid down the length with no resistance. “You have pretty hair. I hate to see you hacking at it like that.”

How’d he? Who cares?
It was the first pain-free combing I’d ever experienced.

“Thanks.” I took the comb from him. “I should get going. Sarah’s waiting on me at Nick’s.”

“I’ll walk you back. The blacktop’s full of potholes and half the streetlights are out.” He put my backpack over his shoulder. “If you sprained your ankle, how would you go surfing with me?”

“No surfing. I’m about ten thousand years behind on the learning curve.”

“Just five, but I bet I could have you surfing better than Nick by the end of summer.”

It would really get under Nick’s skin if I could surf better than he could.
“I’ll think about it.”

He guided me around the breaches in the pavement until we got to Nick’s drive.

“I’m going out of town for a short while so I’m really glad you came over tonight.” He ran his hand through my hair and kissed me lightly. “Goodnight, Kris.”

“Night.” I watched his retreat before going up three steps and through the side door.

Sarah smirked. “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

“I’m so smitten.” I jangled my keys. “Let’s go.”

She said something tremendously gushy to Nick, kissed him, and pranced out to my car.

“I know where you went and you smell like chlorine. You will begin to dish immediately!” Her knees bounced in the car seat.

“Not much to tell. He lives in the stucco house at the end of the beach. We went swimming, we talked, he kissed me—that’s about it.”

“More please. Not the other stuff, just the kissing.”

“Geez, Sarah, I don’t know. I liked it. I think I like him. He combed my hair.”

“He gave you a comb out? Your hair’s a thicket. That’s so sweet!”

“Please slap me out of my dream world so I can begin to cope with the rejection that I’m guessing is two weeks away.” I parked and got out, slamming the car door twice.

“Have a little trust.” She hit the door with her hip and it stuck.

I punched in my code at the door and we went to the elevator, her smiling at me like I was her baby sister home from my first date. It was weirding me out.

I dropped my backpack inside our front door and went to the fridge. “Want anything?”

“Fizzy lemonade?”

“Will you please stop looking at me like that?”

“I’m just so excited to find out that you have hormones.” She slapped her legs. “And here I thought you and Derek would get together this summer.”

I handed her the lemonade and sighed. “So did I. But when it comes down to it, we’ve been friends too long and it doesn’t translate no matter how much I want it to.” I flopped onto the couch and felt it deflate beneath me. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s back with Pam.”

“Pam thinks he’s all about you, always has been, and I think she might be right.”

“Pam’s being jealous. Derek’s said as much on the matter. And you know how Derek is. If he wanted me, he would’ve turned on the charm, wiled his way in. We’d be so good together … but at least with Jericho I know it won’t last and therefore wouldn’t be near as devastating as getting and losing Derek.”

“You think too much. Do you think I consciously made a decision to be with Nick? Of course not. Romance doesn’t work that way. You can’t predict where a relationship is gonna go. You’re doing it right now. You’re making a graph in your mind of who you should be with.”

“Am not.” It was a chart.

“Just for fun, when you close your eyes and think about kissing Jericho what do you see?”

“Gimme a break.”

“Just do it.”

“The Great Chicago Fire.”

“There you go. Enjoy him. Burn the house down! Or the city, whatever.”

My analogy was made up to end the conversation but she had a point. On paper, there were only a few things that Nick and Sarah had in common and a long list of things that made them incompatible, but they were very happy together. However, Sarah required attention, specifically male attention, and I often wondered if that’s why she was with him. He got and gave plenty of attention.

During the night, I heard something in the hall. Sweat bled down my neck and I threw off the blanket.
Everything’s okay.
It was probably Sylvia coming home, but I couldn’t fall back asleep for another two hours because my heart was beating too fast.

CHAPTER SIX

D
erek poked his head through the door. “Kill me. It’s a graveyard. I’ve made fourteen dollars in three hours, a fantastic use of my time.”

“No kidding? We’re swamped back here.” I pretended to look busy.

“Help me with napkin rolls?” He went back to the front.

I hung up my chef coat and followed him to the dining room. Muzak assaulted my senses, my gag reflex on high alert. The floor was deserted except for Jericho and a girl, who were sitting at the bar, talking and laughing. She was glamorous. Her very short, platinum-blond hair complimented big blue eyes, pink lips, and bare shoulders. Even her silver feather earrings were cool.

I stood next to Derek and the silverware at the end of the bar, and then glanced at Jericho. “Thought you were out of town.”

“Just got in.” He smiled at me. “I wondered if you were working tonight. I didn’t see your car.”

“It’s right out back.” I bussed their empty glasses.

“Kris, this is my friend Kelly from Florida.” He gestured to her. “Kelly, Kris.”

“You have great hair.” She did.

“Thanks,” she ruffled her buzz cut. “Cool shirt.”

My T-shirt was black with a holographic roulette wheel that made it appear as though the ball was spinning. Too bad I didn’t have a rack like hers to really put it into motion. The shirt was symbolic. I’d taken a gamble and lost.

“Can I see your hand?” Kelly said. “I read palms.”

I surveyed Derek to see if he found her request a bit fruity, took six steps, and held my hand out to her. She drew her palm across mine and my shoulder twitched, her touch giving off a mild vibration, like an electromagnet for skin. She shook her head.