I Am Girl Power

by Katie Cross

  How long had my family been falling apart, and why was I just noticing it now?

  Operation Reignite My Parents: Mission Brainstorming

  Call Mom about conversation with Dad.

  Reminisce.

  Watch Parent Trap for inspiration.

  Buy them a puppy.

  Move back home.

  Tell JJ?

  Send Mom flowers from Dad.

  Send Dad takeout Chinese from Mom.

  Set the house on fire.

  Shave my head and tell them I need counseling. Then drag them to it. Then leave them with counselor.

  Do nothing.

  Go on a trail run with Mom.

  Try to believe that love is worth it.

  Watch Fight Club. (Move to ‘Things That Are Crazier Than My Crazy’ List)

  Eat something sugary.

  Chapter 10

  Sinking

  Friday morning, I woke with the first beams of sunrise.

  After sliding in and out of vague dreams, I stopped fighting for sleep that wouldn’t come. I slipped from my bag and into the crisp air. When I ventured out of my cabin in long sleeves and my hair in a braid, no life stirred. For now, I had Adventura to myself.

  Steam drifted off the lake. I shivered in my shorts as I padded down the gravel path to the waterfront. The loose rock shifted underneath my sandals while I walked, my mind as cloudy as the fog clinging to the water. I continued past the shallow buoys and stopped at the end of the U-shaped pier. Nothing disturbed the water except for glimmers of foraging fish.

  By the time I grabbed a paddle board, set it in the shallows, and stepped on top, rays of sunshine pierced the water. The wisps retreated, as if they couldn’t bear the light. I sat on the board and paddled to the middle of the lake. My feet dangled off the edge in the cool water. Goosebumps covered my skin, but I pulled my sleeves over my hands and kept going.

  The quiet licks of water on the board soothed my static-filled thoughts. I concentrated on the way the oar sank into the lake instead of thinking about Dad not answering my repeated phone calls. I wondered if he’d listened to my apologetic voicemails. Rhonda had hesitated when I asked her why he wouldn’t talk to me, and an emptiness rang through my chest.

  I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. But the terror of losing my parents’ marriage pushed me to desperation. Dad would only brood for a day or two, work through it, and call me—he always did. But I still felt a little lost.

  To make matters worse, I still had no money and no courage to ask him for any.

  Ripples expanded around the oar as I dipped it in the water. Every touch of the lake sent ever-widening rings into the distance until they faded. I stared at them and felt shaken when they disappeared.

  A vague sound drew my gaze to the right. Out of the mist came the swing of a powerful arm. I drew my paddle in when Justin’s head bobbed above the lake in a silent breath and disappeared into another stroke. He moved swiftly and quietly, like a crocodile. I stared, transfixed by the play of muscle as his arms blazed through the water.

  He stopped a few feet short of my board. Water streamed down his face even after he wiped it off, shaking the loose droplets free. His hair twisted into a loop on top of his head.

  “Hey.” He blew the excess water from his lips in a soft raspberry. “Aren’t you supposed to stand up on these things?”

  “I like to set my own trends.”

  “Trailblazer.”

  “More like lazy. Standing requires more energy than I have this early.” I tipped to the side, peering into the murky depths. “Besides, I don’t really want to get wet. It takes way too long to warm back up.”

  “Chicken.”

  “Nah. I just don’t feel like making hot chocolate.”

  The teasing glint in his eye faded. “What are you doing out here so early, anyway?” he asked.

  “Couldn’t sleep. Do you swim out here often?”

  “Every morning.”

  I leaned forward. “Really?”

  Had I missed so many opportunities to see him shirtless? If the sculpted shoulders and arms I was catching glimpses of while he treaded water bore any similarity to the rest of him, I’d come every morning.

  With binoculars.

  “Every morning. I grew up on the ocean. This helps the homesickness.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Do you like to swim?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “I don’t do it much, but I can swim. I’m not as fast as JJ, though. He beats me at everything.”

  Justin nodded to the opposite bank. “Hey, check it out,” he said in a soft voice. “We have a visitor.”

  A dusky shape nosed through the reeds at the edge of the lake. A young male moose—his antlers weren’t quite impressive yet—stepped out of the fog. I held my breath. Such a beautiful, wild world up here. Always surprising me.

  “He’s huge,” I murmured.

  “Not as big as the bull that I’ve seen every now and then. This guy comes out here most mornings.”

  “Has he ever bothered you?”

  “Nah. I stay away.”

  “Good plan.”

  I looked to the opposite bank, expecting to see another dark figure, albeit much smaller, haunting the lake.

  “Where’s Atticus?” I asked.

  “Probably cuddling with JJ. They bonded when I went home.”

  “JJ loves his own kind,” I said. Justin tilted his head back and laughed, giving me a glimpse of his strong neck as the water lapped around it. I turned away. Wildlife was far less intimate than the ring of a farmer’s tan around his biceps.

  “So,” Justin said. “Everything all right? You seemed upset when you got back yesterday.”

  A blush crept across my cheeks.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that whole lunch fiasco.”

  While I’d been fighting with Dad, the oven had stopped working for no discernible reason. The lasagnas I’d left cooking came out half-frozen in the middle and slushy on the edges when Mark retrieved them at noon. An hour after lunch, the oven flipped back on, which left the kitchen broiling hot the rest of the evening.

  Justin’s dimple made a quick appearance. “Eh. Nothing anyone could have done about that. They brought the microwave in. Turned out fine.”

  “My parents are having a hard time,” I said, running my finger along the edge of the paddle board. The rough texture felt as stubbled as my thoughts. “I got in a fight with my dad yesterday. That’s probably why I looked upset.”

  “Anything serious?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Uh … do you want me to talk about it?” I asked, eyes narrowing.

  He shrugged. “If you want to.”

  “Can you tread water for hours? Turns out my parents have layers of hidden dysfunction I didn’t know about.”

  “Give me the short version.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure of how to wrap it all up in a neat little box that didn’t look as hideous as it felt. The water caressed my knee, grounding me back into the moment. How could I explain my disorientation and uncertainty?

  “I guess it’s simpler than I made it out to be,” I said, thinking it over. “They fell out of love.”

  He winced. “Ouch.”

  “Doesn’t it sound terrible?”

  “You’d almost prefer to hear that one of them was addicted to gambling, or they had a lot of debt, or something like that.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Yes! Because those things are at least tangible, right? I mean, addictions can be worked on. Debt can be consolidated. But falling out of love?” My hand fell back to my lap. “How do you even fix that?”

  “You don’t. It’s up to them.”

  “What if they don’t fix it?”

  The confidence in his gaze disarmed me. “Then they don’t. And it’s going to suck for a while.”

  Tears threatened again at the back of my throat. I ran my fingers th
rough the water on the paddle board. I hadn’t let myself go to that place yet. I cleared my throat.

  “Sounds like you have some experience,” I said.

  “I do.”

  I stared at him. “Oh. Really?”

  “My parents divorced when I was seven. Used me as a pawn for a year or two until my grandpa stepped in. He raised me.”

  My mouth parted. “Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is. And yes, it sucked. But I couldn’t do anything to save what didn’t want to be saved. I thought it was up to me, that year when I bounced back and forth between them. But it’s not. Movies like The Parent Trap? They’re just not that likely.”

  The helpless, lost feeling returned but not with as much power. Justin had turned out fine, and he didn’t have any parents. Mine still loved me. Maybe my life wasn’t as dark as I made it out to be.

  “So,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “What do I do?”

  “What do you think you should do?”

  I thought it over. “I’m not sure. Try to get them to talk?”

  “Or you could leave them to it.”

  “Maybe stage an intervention?”

  He coughed into a fist. “Or do nothing.”

  “Or,” I concluded with a slump of my shoulders. My eyes strayed to the moose, who plodded through the knee-high water, dragging moss as he went. “I could do nothing. Let them sink or swim.”

  “They’ll swim,” he said. “Don’t worry. There’s one more option, you know.”

  “What is it?”

  “You make me a cake.”

  I reared back. “What?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been treading water this long without drowning myself. I’ll need the calories.”

  I blinked, momentarily disoriented, then splashed him with my paddle. He dodged the water with a chortle.

  “Weak!” he called.

  I curved the blade of the paddle and cut it into the water at an angle, spraying him again. He held up a hand, staving off the worst of the splash.

  “Don’t get involved in a war you can’t win,” he drawled, shaking loose drops of water out of his eyes.

  “I have higher ground.”

  “But I have tactical advantage.”

  He planted one hand on the board, grabbed my other arm, and yanked. Although I lunged to the other side, he used his body weight to pull me off. The murky water closed around me in a chilly embrace, cutting off my squeal. When I surfaced, Justin had commandeered both the paddle and the board.

  “Hey!” I splashed after him. “That’s my paddle board! And this water is freaking cold!”

  He tossed a jaunty grin over his shoulder and hopped with lithe grace onto the board. “Yeah, but your hair needed a good rinse.”

  “I just washed it yesterday!”

  When I attempted to climb on the board, he pushed me off with the paddle. I grabbed a reed out of the water and threw it at him. He stood without so much as a wobble in his legs and glided away.

  “Show off,” I called.

  “Just putting the paddle board to good use,” he said. “And ensuring that we don’t get oily, stinky hairs in our breakfast.”

  “You haven’t seen the last of me, Mackleby.” I shoved the hair out of my eyes. “I will win!”

  “Sink or swim, Meg,” he said, without turning around. “Let them decide.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “Like it’s that easy.”

  The muscles of his back shifted like a choreographed dance with every stroke of the paddle. With a snort to clear the remnants of water from my nose, I started an easy breaststroke back to shore. Just behind me, the young moose drifted into the trees, nothing more than shadow.

  Megan,

  Sorry about cutting our conversation short a few days ago. Would you like to continue our discussion via video chat? I’d also like to conduct an informal interview. I always prefer working with candidates face-to-face if I can. Not essential, just a preferential quirk of mine. Also, I’ve found a few job opportunities I’d like to discuss with you.

  Wednesday morning would be a convenient time for me. Please let me know if it works for you.

  Regards,

  Jodie Renner

  Lizbeth greeted me with a sleepy wave of her hand when I stepped into the Frolicking Moose on Wednesday. The smell of warm vanilla and pastries washed over me. An old woman haunted the corner, nursing a coffee mug while reading her newspaper.

  “Internet?” Lizbeth asked.

  “And an iced tea?”

  “On it.”

  I found a chair at the back. The intonation for Skype rang as I pulled the phone out of my pocket. JRenner popped up with a video chat request. I sucked in a deep breath and clicked on the icon. Five seconds later, an unfamiliar face filled my screen.

  “Megan Bailey,” Jodie said, “wonderful to finally see you.”

  Hair black as a raven fell to her shoulders in a long waterfall, accenting her shadowy eyes and tawny skin. A burgundy silk shirt was buttoned almost to her neck, revealing part of a diamond necklace. Warm cherry wood walls lined the background. She held a pair of black glasses in one hand. A massive diamond ring caught the light in dazzling rays.

  “You as well.”

  She leaned forward. “Let’s get right to it, shall we? I have a few questions before we start with specifics.”

  “Sure.”

  We launched into the quick back and forth of typical interview questions. How do you deal with stress? What is your five-year plan? What is your ideal job? What would you do in a situation that pitted you against a patient or a doctor?

  I forced myself to relax. Still, my nerves felt stretched thin by the end. Jodie had an intensity about her that I hadn’t seen since I left the Intensive Care Unit. Suddenly, the carefree, easygoing nature of the staff at Adventura struck me as far more comfortable.

  “Very good.” She scribbled one last note, then set her pen down. “Thank you for indulging me.”

  She stared right into the screen with her liquid eyes. Her voice, so melodic and deep, dropped a little.

  “So, let’s get to the nitty-gritty. I’ve been looking around, but I don’t see anything in a flight department. They tend to have their own rules, as you know. Sometimes it’s beyond me to get a candidate in. Sometimes it’s not. I had a nibble, but they also went with an internal hire. Also, I haven’t found any hospitals offering hiring bonuses. Sorry.”

  My heart sank.

  “Oh. I see.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ve given up hope. I’ll continue to keep an eye peeled. Are you willing to move?”

  Lexie would be gone soon. Bitsy had a new business opening. Rachelle always came up with some plan. I had no job. No real ties to my Midwest home. A new beginning seemed … seductive. I squared my shoulders.

  “Yes. I think I would.”

  She scrawled on a piece of paper. “Good. That helps. There are a few other hospitals across the country in our corporation that I can look into, so don’t give up on a flight position yet. Now, I have a position at a Respiratory ICU across town. You wouldn’t have to move. The pay is two dollars more than you made before, with matching 401(k) and better benefits. The position will go fast. Would you like to apply?”

  “When does it start?”

  Her eyes crisscrossed down a computer screen. “Two weeks.”

  I swallowed. “Oh. I can’t. I’m here at camp.”

  She frowned, her lips pursed. “I didn’t realize that was still in the way. You’re planning on staying at the camp all summer, then?”

  My mouth turned dry.

  “Uh, yes. Unless…”

  She allowed my response to trail away. She folded her hands together and let out a long breath.

  “I see. Well, let’s be honest, Megan. There’s no reason for me to look until you’re ready. Most of these positions have immediate needs. Perhaps we should speak again when you’re closer to coming home?”

  A bolt of pan
ic zipped through me.

  “Oh, I still want a job!”

  “Of course. But we’re wasting time if I keep track of current positions. Email me two weeks before you’re available. We’ll discuss options then. How does that sound?”

  I leaned closer to the computer. “Can you keep an eye open for a flight position?”

  “Of course. I’ll contact you if I find anything. Best of luck at camp, Megan.”

  The screen went blank.

  My mind numbed, uncertain what to feel first. Jodie had a point—why search until I could commit? But not having my career move forward opened a deep chasm in my chest.

  My thoughts rotated to Mom and Dad, then Mark and JJ. Dad and JJ had no emotional ties to their jobs. Mark, Mom, and I did. All of us had our own problems. I thought of Nathan for the first time in days, and my spiral deepened. The lack of answers frightened me most.

  And the little question of my growing debt lingered in the back of my mind.

  The filmy threads of my future seemed to dance in front of me, tantalizing and ethereal. When I reached out, they faded into nothing. Sighing, I stood up. Jodie would keep an eye out for flight-nurse positions. All hope wasn’t lost yet. I could still ask Mom for money.

  And sort my life out in the meantime.

  Chapter 11

  Escaping

  Riding into Jackson City that weekend sent a thrill through me; I wanted to walk through the heart of downtown and reminisce instead of haunt the same trails that had started to lose their excitement thanks to morning runs with JJ. Mom and I used to shop at the farmers market every weekend in the summer. Smelling the gritty freshness would remind me of happier times.

  “Hey there, girl power,” Justin said, unlocking the driver's side door of his Jeep. “Get in any more axe fights lately?”

  He chuckled at his own joke and slid inside before I could respond.

  Gary sat next to me in the back seat. Except for a warm smile, he made no attempt at conversation. Troy and Justin discussed a baseball game they were going to watch at a bar, and I let my thoughts wander.

  Going to the farmers market in Jackson City today, I texted Mom. Can you come with?

  She responded within the minute.

  Can’t. On a 24-hr shift. Sorry. :(