Authors: Jaime Clevenger
“It’s pretty here.”
“Wait till sunset,” Kelsey said. She stepped carefully down the rocks and pointed out the tricky spots.
Joy followed Kelsey’s steps exactly, or tried to, but she paused at the last rock. She tried to find the place Kelsey had stepped, but green slime covered every inch of the rock and her feet slipped out from under her. Kelsey caught her hand. Joy stumbled but didn’t fall and Kelsey’s grip tightened.
“I got you,” she said. “People always slip on that last rock. Sometimes when the tide’s up, you can’t go down this way and we take the path over there.” Kelsey pointed to a trail that coursed alonside the dune. “It’s safer, fewer rocks, but the cops know that trail.”
Joy stared at the dune trail for a long moment. Her thoughts were far from the trail, however. Kelsey hadn’t let go of her hand and she didn’t seem to have any intention of letting go soon. She couldn’t look at Kelsey’s face so she stared down at their hands. Kelsey’s hand was cool but her palm was moist with sweat. Her skin was soft. Deceptively soft. They walked another few steps until they’d reached the beach. The water lapped along the shore and they stood where the dark sand turned light, beyond the reach of the waves. Minutes passed and Joy had to think about breathing, worrying that Kelsey would notice she was holding on to every breath far too long. Kelsey’s hand was still linked with hers.
Kelsey rarely came to the marina past dusk. But tonight she didn’t want to go home. Joy Henderson had been on her mind all afternoon. There was no “thing” that she had to go to. She’d lied to Joy, plain and simple. But, she argued, it was for good reason. No matter how hard she’d tried to keep things business as usual, it wasn’t going as planned. She couldn’t keep Joy—Dr. Henderson—off her mind.
She’d drifted asleep every night for the past week wondering if she’d say yes to a date and then planning what they’d do. By morning, she had a long list of reasons why she couldn’t possibly ask Joy out, but every night she thought of it again. The problem was, even if Joy was interested, Kelsey knew she wasn’t ready. Somehow she was eighteen years too late and still not ready for what she knew, or at least guessed, that Joy Henderson was offering. A date. It didn’t have to be anything more than that. Kelsey sighed. Joy had given her the perfect opportunity for a casual evening together. A hike to Mad River and an eclipse sounded perfect. Too perfect.
Kelsey finally got out of her car and went to get her kayak. She spotted John in the watchtower. He was hunched over his desk, the blue light from the computer screen lighting up the side of his face. John didn’t like it when she went out after dark. She hoped he wouldn’t see the light switch on in the storage shed.
The water was smooth and the waves that rolled against the dock sounded more like a dog lapping up a drink than the edge of the ocean bursting at its seams. Kelsey stared at the full moon and the few gray clouds. The moon lit up everything in a thin silvery light—enough to see the code on the storage shed door. She didn’t switch on the storage room light. She found her wetsuit by feel and then the life vest in case John happened to see her.
The kayak slipped into the water. She rowed in the opposite direction from the slough—out toward Mather Island and then the current pulled her toward the open water. By her watch, it was nearing ten and she kept a close eye on the moon. When she’d floated too far past Mather Island Point, she turned the kayak around and rowed back toward the marina. She paused in the middle of the bay when a dark shadow fell over the moon. Kelsey rowed in a slow circle so the current wouldn’t carry her out again, watching the shadowy crescent grow until the moon was entirely concealed. She shivered as the wind picked up.
Being alone on the water made her think of Hannah. Partly it was the quiet. With only the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the kayak and the intermittent bird calls, there wasn’t enough noise to distract her. But it was also the ocean itself.
In the last few months on Hannah’s houseboat, Kelsey had grown to hate everything about the water. A month after moving back to Raceda, she decided to sell her kayak. She came to the marina to get it out of storage. She had to take pictures of it to post online. After a few pictures, she pushed the kayak in the water for one last time. She didn’t get her wetsuit or a life vest then. She hugged her oar to her chest and the waves had carried her out. Then she bawled into her hands until her sleeves were soaked through. Eventually the tide turned and the kayak rocked toward the marina. She never posted the kayak. Hannah didn’t own the water.
Now without the moonlight, Kelsey focused on the marina lights, suddenly aware of how risky her position in the middle of the bay was. The ferries stopped at dusk, but other boats were still out. It would be easy for a bigger boat to miss a lone kayak. Kelsey drove her oar hard into the water, angling in a straight line toward the light from John’s window. She didn’t relax until the bottom of the kayak scuffed the sandy bottom of the boat entrance. Her muscles were shaky from the workout, and she nearly fell when she stepped onto solid ground. She pulled the kayak completely out of the water and then sank down on the rocks.
The moon was still eclipsed, but clouds had begun to gather around the spot and she doubted that she’d be able to see the earth’s shadow receding. Far in the distance, opposite the tip of Mather’s Island, she could make out five spots of flickering light. Flames from five bonfires marked the beach and the inlet to Mad River. When the wind picked up, embers from the bonfires flew up in the air like a distant fireworks display. She could easily imagine the crowd at the beach and didn’t long for any company on her side of the water.
There was a long list of things that eighteen years ago she thought would have happened by now, but none of those things had happened. And the one thing she’d sworn wouldn’t happen, had happened. She was back in Raceda. Her mom hadn’t bothered to get rid of her old furniture and she was sleeping in the same twin bed she’d gotten in middle school after her parents’ separation. The mattress was worn out. Replacing the mattress meant she was committing to living at home, however, so she still hadn’t replaced it. Kelsey stood up finally. She ached from sitting on the cold rocks and the moon’s distant halo only accentuated the loneliness she’d felt all evening.
Barb was waiting for her when she got home. She was watching TV and crunching on potato chips. “Your dinner’s in the fridge.”
“No Denise tonight?” Kelsey headed to the kitchen.
“She was here for a few hours,” Barb answered. “But she already went home.”
Kelsey stared at a vase full of roses. She picked up the card.
Can I take you to dinner?
Hannah’s name swirled under the printed dinner invite. It wasn’t her handwriting. She’d paid someone to write the words and even sign her name. That made it all the easier to crumple the card and toss it in the trash. Kelsey tossed the roses as well. She set the empty vase in the sink and stared at it for a long moment.
“Did you find it?” Barb called. “It’s in one of those red containers behind the milk.”
Kelsey went to the refrigerator and pulled out the cold spaghetti. She dished out a serving and then started the microwave, avoiding the sink with the empty vase.
“You know she’s in love with you,” Kelsey said. She sat down on the couch by her mom and tasted the spaghetti.
“No, she’s not. We’re close friends. That’s it.”
“You sure about that?” Kelsey laughed at her mom’s uncertain expression. “The question is, what are you going to do about it if I’m right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You need to tell her.” Kelsey took another bite of the spaghetti. “This is better than your usual recipe. What’d you add?”
“Denise made dinner tonight.” Barb smiled weakly.
“Trying to soften you up?”
Barb shook her head. “I’m already softened. I love her company. But you’re probably right. I need to tell her that it’s only her company I want.”
“Maybe that’ll be enough for her.”
“She told me the other day that she wants to fall in love again.” Barb paused. “But I don’t want her to leave. Selfish?”
“Maybe,” Kelsey said. “I think you should talk to her. But convince her to keep cooking for us.”
“That won’t be selfish.” Barb smiled. “Denise and I are happy. I don’t want to rock the boat.” Barb reached for Kelsey’s hand. “Speaking of happy…”
“I know what you’re going to say.” Kelsey poked the noodles with her fork. “Don’t worry, I’ll bounce out of this funk.”
“Is this particular funk named Hannah?”
“I tossed the roses in the trash.” Kelsey swallowed. “She needs to stop sending flowers.”
“If she keeps sending flowers, you’ll have to think about her. Am I allowed to hate your ex-girlfriend?”
Kelsey managed a smile. “This one, yes.”
“The roses were beautiful. It’s a shame to throw them away.” Barb sighed. “But I don’t blame you. There’s no chance she’s coming back on the scene, is there? I nearly sent the flowers home with Denise again.”
“Too bad they weren’t for Denise.” Kelsey shook her head. “You know what’s really bothering me? Hannah has a good heart. I know it’s hard to see that but she does. And these damn flowers keep making me think about that fact.”
“You lost your job over her, lost ten pounds that you didn’t have to lose, lost your friends.” Barb paused.
“Stop, Mom.” Kelsey closed her eyes. “I threw out the flowers. I’m not calling her. My point was, she wasn’t all bad. Yeah, we were terrible together, but…” She paused. She was exhausted and on the brink of tears that had come from out of nowhere. Hannah had that effect on her.
Damn flowers.
She shook her head. She’d cried too many times. “I know what I lost.”
Barb didn’t say anything. After a long moment, she patted Kelsey’s knee. “I’m sorry. I hate that she hurt you. That’s all.” She stared at the TV screen for another minute and then closed up the bag of potato chips. She went to the kitchen and came back with two glasses of water. When she sat back down on the couch, she said, “Maybe you should get out more. You haven’t been out on a date since you moved home.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” she said. “I need a shower.” In fact, she needed more than a shower. She stood and stretched, fighting back a yawn. She was exhausted. Nightmares had woken her the past few nights. Always the same thing—she was running and then she’d trip over railroad tracks. As soon as she tried to get up, she’d realize someone was chasing her. The same scene replayed itself until she woke up in a cold sweat.
Barb caught her hand. “Sweetie, wait. With Hannah back on the scene and everything…Tell me that I don’t need to worry about anything else.”
Kelsey fought back the urge to yell. She knew exactly what her mom was asking. The truth was, things had only been this bad once before. It was after the shoulder surgery. After she’d come back from the Olympic Training Center. She’d been taking the pills that the doctors had given her, but the pain in her shoulder was still constant. Then she’d met up with Hannah and there’d been an endless supply of pills. She hated that Barb was asking now. Kelsey kept her voice even as she answered, “I’m okay.”
“Okay. That’s all I need to know.”
She didn’t think about her shoulder every day like she used to. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t still think about the pills. She didn’t want to explain that to anyone, especially not her mom. Barb blamed Hannah when Kelsey had been taking too many. Kelsey had never admitted that she’d started taking the pills before she started seeing Hannah. What mattered was that she’d stopped taking them all on her own. Eventually.
The pool was less crowded on the weekends and Joy had a lane to herself. As usual, the first thing she thought of when she dove in was Kelsey. Unfortunately. Somehow, she needed to get Kelsey off her mind—especially after she’d made a fool of herself asking Kelsey to watch the eclipse and getting soundly turned down. And although she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she knew the best way to get any woman off her mind was to sleep with someone else.
Vanessa had texted that morning about a new club. She wanted a date for the opening. Vanessa’s timing was perfect. But it was a long drive to get Kelsey off her mind.
Joy finished her workout and headed to the shower still thinking of Kelsey. She needed a break from Raceda. And from Kelsey. She wrapped a towel around her and found her cell phone. Vanessa answered on the second ring. She never answered on the first because she didn’t want anyone to think that she was sitting around waiting for a call. Joy smiled at this thought, knowing Vanessa was, in fact, waiting for her.
“Say yes.”
The cement blocks of the locker room made the connection weak, but Vanessa’s voice brought an instant rush of comfort. Joy shifted on the narrow bench and pulled her towel over her shoulders. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Will you wear a tie?”
Joy smiled. Getting Kelsey off her mind wasn’t the only reason she needed to go to San Francisco. She remembered the way Vanessa had played with the black tie she’d worn the last time they’d gone out dancing. Vanessa’s hands had played up and down her chest, intermittently fingering the buttons of her dress shirt and loosening and then tightening the tie. After the cab ride home, Vanessa had latched onto the tie and led the way up three flights of stairs straight to the bedroom. Joy felt her body respond to the memory of that night. “That depends. What are you gonna be wearing?”
“I want to surprise you.” Vanessa laughed. “This club is gonna be hot. And I know the manager. We’ll get hooked up.” Vanessa paused. “I miss hearing your voice. How are you holding up in BF Nowhere? Anyone I need to know about? I want to keep tabs on any competition.”
Kelsey’s face flashed in Joy’s mind and she nearly laughed. There was no comparison really. They were two entirely different women and only one was interested in her. “No competition.” She continued even though Kelsey’s image was still in her thoughts, “I don’t think there’s any gay people under fifty in this damn town.”
“I doubt that. Look for flannel.”