Destiny Ever-Changing (18 page)

Within a few seconds, she is standing right behind me without a stitch of clothing on and her hair neatly pinned up off her bony shoulders. She positions herself carefully where the water isn't splashing on her face or hair, and she presses her cool body against my back, sliding her hands down my wet hips.

She must be crazy to think that I'm going to fall for this. "Could you just get out of here and let me finish?"

"I know you want me, Joshua. Quit pretending." She wraps her arms around me and rubs my chest. "Besides, you don't want Will to think you don't have a healthy sex life, do you?"

I turn to face her. At this point, I don't care what she sees of me; I just want her out. "Will knows I wouldn't touch you if my life depended on it, so he's well aware that my sex life will be non-existent until the day we get divorced."

"Sounds like you already have someone in mind for that day," she sneers, moving in closer.

"I just know it will never be you."

Jacqueline seems to find humor in that. "Oh, Joshua!" she yells in fake ecstasy, loud enough for anyone in the house to hear.

"Shut up! What are you doing?" I jerk away from her.

A scheming smirk is the only response I get in return. "Yes, Joshua! Yes!"

"I mean it, Jacqueline," I scowl. "Stop it!"

She suddenly shoves me up against the wall between two streams of water. "Harder!" Her hands begin traveling downward.

Just before she touches me, I reach up and turn one of the showerheads right toward her head, soaking her hair and causing her makeup to run. She screams as if the water is acid and runs out of the bathroom, not even bothering to pick up her clothes or grab a towel.

"That has to be the funniest thing I have seen all week," I chuckle to myself. "If I could just walk around with a garden hose all the time, I would be alright."

I quickly finish my shower and throw on my clean clothes. As soon as I walk into the den to get Will, I can tell he heard the whole charade. His eyes immediately dart to the floor as soon as he sees me coming toward him.

"You heard that, didn't you?" I ask.

"What?"

"Jacqueline's yelling. Don't play dumb."

Will bursts into laughter, slides off the couch, and rolls on the floor.

"Chill, man. We weren't really—"

"I know, I know. I could hear what
you
were saying, too," he explains, trying to catch his breath. "The funny part was watching her streak through the house like a drowned rat!"

"You saw that, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm . . . the most terrifying beast I've ever seen."

I help him up off the floor. "Let's get out of here before things get real interesting."

Then, something happens that reminds me why Will is my best friend. As we walk through the kitchen to go to the garage, we see Jacqueline pouring a glass of wine at the bar. Will picks up her full glass of chardonnay and gulps down every drop while she gapes at him with her mouth wide open. Once the glass is empty, he hands it to her and picks up the open wine bottle off the countertop.

"Thanks," he tells her with a wink as he takes a swig from the nearly full bottle. Then, while whistling
a made-up tune, he pushes it into my hand and ushers me into the garage, closing the door behind us. Jacqueline doesn't say a word, but the wine glass shattering on the other side of the door speaks volumes. Even though I'll be the one to clean up that mess, the look on her face is well worth it.

Chapter Thirteen — The Cove

Laura:

May 30,
1978

I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this journal business. I never
exactly
understood why people wrote in journals, but it's especially nice to share my thoughts, even if I'm the only one that will ever read them . . . I hope. So, Mom, you better not be reading this!

Anyway, I met Joe to go swimming yesterday. I was a little hesitant about it at first, but I decided that going would be better than having to sit here with my mom and dad all day. I'm glad I did. He's really something special and quite a looker. He told me to meet him at the cave at nine o'clock, but I could see him walking around on the beach behind my house when I was putting my cereal bowl in the kitchen sink. I was surprised, to say the least. I literally ran to my bedroom to put on my swimsuit, finally deciding on my red halter bikini, and went out to meet him. He looks like a surfer since he's tanned and thin, and the ends of his
golden brown
hair are turning blonde from sun exposure.

We walked in silence most of the way to the cave. I think he was as nervous as I was, but the closer we got, the more we talked. He didn't tell me many details about himself, but he sure was interested in everything about me. I've never been around any boys like that. All the ones that I have gone out with only wanted to talk about themselves. I told him all about my boring life (it only took about three minutes), and
then, he wanted to know even more. He asked my favorite color, food, music, hobby . . . everything.

Once I was ready to start firing questions back at him, we reached our destination. Just past the rocks that lead to the cave, there is a perfect little cove where the waves aren't very strong, and the water is fairly deep. Perfect for
swimming. We swam and talked until about two o'clock, finally stopping only because we were starving. We walked down the beach to a hotdog cart at the public swimming area, and he bought us some lunch. Come to think of it, I've never had a guy buy a meal for me either. I think I could get used to that kind of treatment.

After we ate, we walked back to the cove, sat at the edge of the surf, and talked about school for a while. He actually graduated high school already, and he's getting ready to head off to college at the end of the summer. I didn't ask where, though. He seems to get uncomfortable when I ask questions about him, and I don't know why. He gives
vague
answers. Maybe, he's just not used to talking about himself, who knows.

After a bit, we got back in the water. He was more playful that time, and we had a lot of fun splashing and dunking each other under water. The most amazing thing happened while we were playing around. Okay, it could have been more amazing, but it was pretty exciting for me. We were wrestling around in the water, and Joe, in an effort to keep me from splashing him again, wrapped his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides. But, he pulled me so close to him and just stared at me for a minute. Not smiling . . . just staring. I swear he almost kissed me. I've been hugged and kissed by a boy before, of course, but that was different. I get butterflies just thinking about it. He finally started tickling me, and that moment was over. We didn't get that close again.

We started looking for seashells after that, while I vented a little about my mundane life and how I didn't know what I wanted to do with it. He found some
pretty
ones and gave them to me, but, on our way back home, he found an even better one. It was a conch shell, about half the size of my fist. He told me that the conch shell has mystical properties, and it awakens the heart. He said that it might help me to, at least, feel better about my life. And I must say, just holding it makes me feel better. I still can't believe that he walked me home, too. Just
before we reached my house, he took my hand and held it until I had to go inside. It was the best day I've ever had.

Today, he said he might come by, if he could get out of doing some family stuff. I hope he can.

Regina

I close my mom's journal and lie back on my pillows. The whole thing is getting a little too creepy for me. I was just there at that cove today with Brooks; although, I didn't look for seashells. It appears that I'll be going back to the cove tomorrow, and just maybe, I'll be able to find a conch shell. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm crazy for doing everything my mother talked about in her journal, but then again, I've never been known for my sanity.

Falling asleep proves to be more difficult than I hoped. I should be considerably exhausted after a day of walking, climbing, and swimming, but my mind just won't shut down. This whole mess with Brooks is making me elated and annoyed at the same time.  I don't know why I agreed to remain friends with him after the way he's been acting, but he looked so downtrodden and miserable. I couldn't make myself reject him.

Perhaps, I feel sorry for him because of the situation that he is in, but at the same time, I do need to keep some shred of dignity in all of this. I make a vow to myself that this is his final chance to be my friend. If things between us get tumultuous again, we're done . . . end of story. It's much easier being assertive and sure of myself when he's not around.

In what seems like fifteen minutes, I suddenly sit up in my bed to find the room flooded with golden sunlight. I slept so deeply that I don't remember a single dream, and as I try to stand, I become fairly certain that I didn't even change positions in my sleep. My legs and back are resistant to the slightest movements, and my muscles are screaming with every slight contraction, forcing me to flashback to the rock climbing I did yesterday. I must be extremely out of shape.

Looking at the clock, I debate on how closely I want to follow what my mother did. She was going to meet Joe at nine o'clock that morning, which would give me an hour before I need to leave. I also have to decide on how long I want to be there. I don't think I could spend the entire day there by myself without getting a little stir crazy. I suppose I will just see how it all pans out. I can always leave if I get bored.

I open my closet to pick out a swimsuit, and I smile when I spot a red one. It has a string bikini top, and the bottoms are tiny shorts with a thin, black belt—not quite like my mom's, but close enough. I pull the swimsuit and a breezy, white sundress out of the closet and put them on. After running a brush through my hair, I fill my mesh beach bag with everything I'll need for the day: two towels, a book, sunscreen, cell phone, money, sunglasses, and an oversized water bottle. I lock my bedroom door behind me and head over to eat some breakfast and check on Nana.

When I walk in the house, I'm relieved to
no
t smell breakfast cooking. Looks like she's holding up her end of the bargain. I hear the sewing machine whirring upstairs, so I go on into the kitchen to scavenge for a quick meal. After devouring a piece of toast with peanut butter slathered over the top, I carry my plate to the sink and wash it. As I carefully place my plate in one of the slots in the dish rack, I peer out of the window—almost expecting to see someone waiting for me—and I laugh at myself. I fill my water bottle to the brim and put it and two apples in my bag.

In just under an hour, I make my way to the little cove, knowing that I had already burned off my insubstantial breakfast. I wonder if it would be cheating to start driving to all of these places. Thankfully, the sun is still low in the sky, so the temperature is bearable and actually almost cool. I walk around to the middle of the cove, lay one of my towels out, and smear sunscreen all over. I don't mind getting a little bit of a tan, but in case I spend the full day out here, I want to prevent sunburn at all costs.

At first, I lie back on my towel and close my eyes, breathing in the fresh, briny air. The sounds of delicate waves and seagulls squawking in the distance are washing a mellow tranquility over me, and a slight breeze tickles my skin, feeling like tiny fingers grazing my body.

Even though I have spent quite a bit of my time on the beach over the last few days, this is the first time that I have felt this serene and at peace with myself. Even through all of the turmoil that my life has been in, I finally feel stronger and . . . happy. Ill-advised decisions and a string of flawed relationships have led me here, and I now realize that I wouldn't have it any other way. Regret won't get me anywhere. I'm finally learning that the decisions that I have made are shaping me into a new person, and I am okay with that.

The sun is gradually creeping up, and the temperature is following its lead. Instead of baking in the sun, I decide that my best bet is to find some shade, so I pick up my bag and pull my towel over to the tree line's protective shadow. Facing the water, I lie on my stomach and pull out my book—the latest of my favorite romance series—and promptly immerse myself within the convoluted plot between the helpless heroine and her brawny rescuer. I easily connect with the female character since her story is similar to my own: not raised by her parents, one unfaithful lover after another, and a fervent desire to reinvent herself. Finding myself is a discovery that has proven to be more than difficult, but I'm getting there.

"I thought you said that you weren't a stalker," a low familiar voice says breathlessly.

Startled, I drop my book and look up. The sun is glaring right next to his head, so he is hard to see, but I know Brooks's voice when I hear it. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"I like to run on the beach at least a few days a week. You?"

I stand and brush the sand off my legs. "Oh, you know, another mission." Now that I am able to see him without squinting, the scenery is even better than the waterscape. He is only wearing a pair of black, knee-length athletic shorts and running shoes. Sweat glistens all over his broad shoulders and smooth chest, and his pronounced pectoral muscles and defined abs rhythmically contract as he attempts to regain a steady respiration. Snapping myself out of it before he catches me staring, I focus my gaze on his and smile.

"Ah, I see. So your mom spent her day out here reading a book by herself?"

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that. She swam here with the mysterious Joe for a good part of that day, went up to the public beach for lunch, and hunted for seashells. Since I don't have any company, I've just settled for reading a book, for now."