Moonstone (35 page)

“No doctors then. Only you.” Kelsey felt the tears start. She hated that she could cry when she could hardly manage anything else.

Joy covered Kelsey with a dark blue blanket and wiped the tears off Kelsey’s cheek. The concern on Joy’s face wasn’t deserved.

Kelsey closed her eyes again. She drifted in and out of sleep. She heard Joy on the phone and then heard her mother’s name. “She’s okay, Barb… No, she’s fine to stay here.” Then Joy was holding the drink up to her lips again. The warm liquid felt so good on her throat that she wanted to gulp it down, but Joy insisted on little sips. Kelsey waited for questions but none came. She fell asleep again.

The house was dark when she woke. Joy was asleep on the chair next to the sofa. Kelsey tried to stand, suddenly needing to pee. Her legs were shaky, and she had to grip the armrest to keep from sinking down when she stood. The headache was better—a dull ache had replaced the incessant hammering—but everything else seemed to hurt more. Stinging alternated with throbbing from her feet up to her shoulders and she couldn’t take a deep breath without cringing from a knife-stabbing pain on her left side. She reached the kitchen and stopped, bracing against the counter for support. She remembered a hall bathroom on the other side of the kitchen. Thirty feet away at most. She exhaled and forced another few steps.

Joy roused only when Kelsey returned to the sofa. “Can I get you something?” Her voice was drowsy and she rubbed at her eyes.

Kelsey shook her head. “I had to pee.” She eased her body back onto the sofa and then groaned when her shoulder hit the armrest.

“You sound like you need more meds. I’ll go get them,” Joy said.

The pain had Kelsey wide awake now. She waited for Joy’s return, counting the seconds off in her head to focus on something other than the aches. Joy handed her another two pills and then held a glass of water up to her lips.

“Are you hungry?”

Kelsey shook her head. Her stomach cramped with the thought of food and a wave of nausea followed. “Is there any more of that tea you gave me earlier?”

Joy disappeared to the kitchen. Kelsey listened to the sound of the teakettle clattering against the stove and Joy’s slippered feet shuffling back to the sofa. Joy brushed her hand over Kelsey’s forehead. “Your fever’s back. You’ll feel better when the Motrin kicks in.”

“Why do I have a fever?”

“You tell me.” Joy waited. “What happened?”

Kelsey rubbed at her forehead and then cringed. Everything hurt.

Joy touched Kelsey’s hand. “It’s okay. We can talk later.”

Kelsey wanted to tell Joy the truth. But she only had a vague recollection of what had happened and couldn’t begin to explain why. Why had she wanted the valium? And why had she taken more than one?

The answer that came first to mind seemed ridiculous now. She’d taken it because she didn’t want to feel anything. She had wanted the blank stare that she’d seen on Hannah’s face so many times before. The blank stare that meant a blank mind, wiped free of anything that hurt, anything that mattered. But the valium hadn’t worked that way for her. Maybe she’d taken too many. Instead of a break from the fourth-place finishes, from the surgery that only made her shoulder worse, from walking away when she could have tried harder, the drugs had brought everything back, jumbling past and present in a whirl that seemed to have no end. The valium had given her more than she could stomach.

“I’ll hold the mug,” Joy offered.

Kelsey took a sip and closed her eyes. Sleep was an excuse.

Joy woke Kelsey with a light touch on her arm. “I’m leaving for work. Your mom is coming to check in on you in a few hours.”

“I should go,” Kelsey said, propping her body up on her elbow. She blinked in the morning light and tried to focus on Joy. Her head throbbed.

“You’re not going anywhere. Unless you’re ready to go see a doctor about what happened.” Joy pressed another two red pills into her hand and held up a mug. “More tea. There’s bread for toast if you feel up for eating. Otherwise, try and rest. I’ll be back at lunchtime.”

Kelsey watched her leave and then swallowed the red pills. She drank the contents of the mug and then closed her eyes again. How long could she lay doing nothing? As long as they’ll let me, she thought.

It was five o’clock when Kelsey tried moving again. She had a vague recollection of her mother checking in on her, and then several hours later Joy stopped by with another dose of Motrin. Barb had fired off question after question, but Kelsey didn’t have the energy to respond. She’d rolled over and pretended to sleep, and after a while, Barb had left.

Before the Motrin wore off, Kelsey wanted a shower. She took the stairs one at a time, pausing on the landing between the first and second set of steps. When she reached Joy’s room, she leaned against the wall for several minutes before she had the energy to peel off her clothes. She left everything in a pile outside of the bathroom, knowing that a good amount of sand had been dumped on the carpet along with the filthy shirt and pants. Joy must have taken off her shoes and socks. She had no memory of that either.

The shower managed to clean off her body but did little to improve her mood. The more lucid she was getting, the more depressed she felt. She hadn’t called in sick to work but as soon as she thought of calling, she remembered the lost cell phone. She’d been terrible to her mom and would owe her an apology. It wasn’t the first time. And Joy…

Kelsey sank down on the bed and pulled the covers over her naked body. She could smell Joy’s faint perfume on the sheets. Kelsey couldn’t possibly admit to what had happened. Not even to Joy. Especially not to Joy.

Kelsey was dressed in a pair of Joy’s sweats and one of her Cal T-shirts. She was stirring a pot of something that made the house smell of lemongrass and basil.

“You’re cooking? I take it you’re feeling better?”

Kelsey nodded. “This is your Thank you dinner. I found everything in your kitchen so I’m hoping you like it. Denise taught me this recipe. It’s a Thai curry minus the onion. I couldn’t find onion.”

“Smells delicious.”

Kelsey set down the spoon and went to get two bowls. “And my mom’s coming over tonight to give me a ride home. I’ll be out of your hair after dinner.” She smiled. “There’s no wine, but I found sparkling apple juice.”

Joy stared at Kelsey as she held up the bottle of juice. “I don’t want you to go home.”

“I’ve lost track of time. How many days have I been here?”

“Three. I was thinking, do you need to call your work?”

Kelsey set the bottle down on the counter. She started unwrapping the foil and then pulled at the tab on the cap. She stopped and looked down at her hands. “I quit my job.”

Kelsey’s hands were covered in scratches. Joy had put ointment on the wounds the first night and wrapped both of Kelsey’s hands in gauze, but by the next day Kelsey had taken off the gauze and she hadn’t looked at the wounds since. Joy walked over and opened the juice. She set the cap on the counter and then reached for Kelsey’s hands. Some of the cuts were deep and all of them were fiery red and swollen. “What happened?” Joy asked softly.

Kelsey looked up at her but didn’t answer.

“We’ll wrap these later.” Joy poured the apple juice into the wineglasses Kelsey had set out. Kelsey sat down at the table, clearly exhausted. “You didn’t need to make me dinner, you know,” Joy said. “You should be resting.”

Kelsey let Joy ladle the curry into two bowls and murmured a thank you when Joy set one of the bowls in front of her. She sipped at the apple juice and watched Joy. “Are you taking the job in San Francisco?”

Joy sat down. “How’d you hear about that?”

“Denise mentioned it. She let it slip that the optician at the San Francisco clinic had called her to ask about you.”

Joy tasted the curry. “This is good.” She glanced down at Kelsey’s hands. “I told them I needed some time. They know I own the clinic here.”

“But you could sell.”

Joy sighed. “I got an offer to buy Moonstone the same day I got a job offer in San Francisco. Perfect timing, right?” She looked up at Kelsey. “I made a list of all the reasons I should leave and all the reasons for staying. But I couldn’t decide what I should do. I’m out of contract with the offer on Moonstone since I didn’t respond in three days. Somehow I’ve gone through life always knowing exactly which choice is the right one. Until now.” She paused. “I need to know what happened, Kelsey.”

“I fell.”

“You fell.” Joy shook her head. She reached across the table and gently took one of Kelsey’s hands. She gently pried open Kelsey’s fingers and touched the palm. “You fell?”

“Why didn’t you accept the offer on Moonstone? You want to leave Raceda and you have a job in San Francisco.” Kelsey didn’t look up at Joy. “It’s meant to be.”

Joy sighed. Maybe Kelsey had fallen. But there was more to the story. She was on something. “I know you’re not telling me everything.”

Kelsey nodded. “I can’t seem to say it out loud.”

“After dinner I can drive you back to your mom’s.” Joy stopped. She let go of Kelsey’s hand. “And you can pick up some clothes. Whatever you need for the next couple weeks. I want you to stay here.”

“I’m the last thing you need.”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t want you to regret not taking the San Francisco job. And the chance to sell Moonstone.” Kelsey met Joy’s eyes. “And what about your girlfriend?”

“Vanessa and I broke things off. Technically I’m single.”

“Technically…Well, technically I’m a mess and I think you should run the other direction.”

Joy nodded. “I’ll consider myself warned.”

Four months later

“Mrs. Rathman dropped off a pie,” Joy said. She walked over to the gravestone and pulled out the old flower stems, then fastened the new bouquet into the metal holder. Joy had picked out the sunflowers herself, turning down the usual bouquet that the florist pointed to. She set down a slice of pecan pie. “I know it’s weird, bringing you pie, and I’m here and it’s not even Sunday…Guess I needed to talk to you.”

She sat down next to the gravestone and stretched her legs on the grass. The sun was warm on her belly. “Kelsey says this is the best pecan pie she’s ever had. I didn’t want you to miss out.”

“You don’t know Kelsey. I’ve been dating her for a few months now.” Joy paused. She’d stopped coming once a week with the flowers. Her mom had insisted that it wasn’t necessary and the florist had backed her up. A month had slipped by since she’d last come and the only change she could see were dandelion weeds popping up everywhere. She glanced down at the gravestone and continued, “I got another offer on your clinic. My clinic, I guess. Moonstone…”

“Anyway, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” Joy brushed a hand over the blades of grass. “This whole thing came out of the blue. I wasn’t even planning on listing the place until next summer at the earliest.”

“I’ll miss the view. But most days it’s so foggy you can’t see much past the pier.” Joy sighed. “The thing is, I don’t think Kelsey would leave this town if I asked.” She stopped suddenly and laughed. “Oh, I’d love to hear what you’d say about that—the one thing that might keep me in Raceda is my girlfriend.”

Joy was silent for several minutes. She watched a car slowly drive past. No one rushed through the cemetery. “I think you’d like her. She wears these crazy big sunglasses like Mom used to. Straight out of Hollywood. On foggy days they’re perched up on her head.” Joy rubbed her eyes. “Anyway. Thought you’d want to know.”

Kelsey was pacing the deck as usual. She never stood still when she was coaching. Her red whistle hung over her blue polo shirt and the ever-present clipboard was in her left hand. She rarely glanced at the clipboard. Somehow she managed to memorize every race and the order of each of her swimmers, but Joy noticed that she’d scribble down the racers’ times on the sheet despite the fact that the timers and the judges had everything recorded. Kelsey liked to keep track of everything herself.

Joy sat down on the bench directly opposite the scoreboard. The swim meet had been underway for the past thirty minutes and she had another hour and half to wait until dinner. One of the parents sitting a row above tapped her shoulder. It was too noisy with the announcer calling out the swimmers’ names to have any conversation, but she offered a plateful of cookies that was being passed around. Joy helped herself to one and smiled her thanks.
One of the bonuses of dating the coach,
she thought.

After the names had been announced, the next group of swimmers stepped up to the starting block. Kelsey was talking to the swimmer in Lane Three. He had his hands on the block, waiting for his signal to dive in. Joy remembered this kid from some of the stories Kelsey had told her. He’d already been arrested for shoplifting and then had been caught tagging a freeway overpass. Kelsey brushed it off. It was innocent enough, but Joy thought he sounded like trouble. He was also the grandson of Kelsey’s friend down at the marina. John. Sometimes John would come to watch the boy swim, but he was nowhere in sight today. The popgun snapped and the six swimmers dived in in unison. Joy watched Lane Three for the first length, but the swimmer fell behind at the turn and she turned her gaze to the leader in Lane Two instead. Lane Two was also one of Raceda High’s swimmers, but Joy didn’t remember anything about him.

Kelsey had told her about every one of the twenty-six swimmers on the team, but it was difficult keeping track of the names. There were two black kids on the team and Joy remembered their names. She even knew their parents. But she hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask what they were doing in Raceda. Everyone had a reason for staying. At the second turn, Lane Two lost the lead and was soon neck and neck with Lane Three.

Joy glanced up from the water to find Kelsey. Kelsey didn’t yell at the swimmers the way Coach Treble had done. But her intensity was clear. She hustled from one end of the pool to the other calling out encouragement as if the swimmers could hear every word under water, her focus alternating from the swimmers on deck to the ones in the water and then somehow she was able to check in with each kid after they’d finished a race. She stayed close enough to the edge of the pool that Joy often worried she’d slip in.