The Art of Second Chances

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The Art of Second Chances Page 16

by Coleen Patrick


  I pressed a hand to my stomach. Thinking of my rejection letter was still embarrassing.

  “Hey,” Reed said, tapping my leg. “What are you thinking?”

  I swallowed. “I’m wondering how I could handle art school and a world of opinions if I can’t even shrug off my sister’s rejection.”

  “That’s because you love your sister. She matters to you.”

  My eyes watered. He was right. I loved my sister, no matter how much crazy she injected into the space between us. Then again, I had my own crazy to add to the mix.

  “Talk to her. You’ll figure it out.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He smiled. “I’d tell you what I say to my brother, but a constant stream of “You rock!” and “You’re amazing!” probably wouldn’t help. Jeremy cannot cope without flattery, which is why he’s forever drifting, looking for his next fix.”

  “I’m sorry, Reed.”

  “No. I’m fine. I’m realistic about our relationship. I put my effort into what works—my friends, my parents, and my art.”

  “So very healthy.”

  Reed laughed. “There is something I’ve learned from my brother though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The ego can be a fragile thing, for everyone. Sometimes, showing a little interest in your sister’s thoughts, the books she’s reading, or her work, could go a long way.” Reed glanced at me and held up his hand. “Wait. Before you freak out and think I’m saying you’re the worst sister ever, think of what you did a few minutes ago when you saw me on the beach. You looked at my painting, really looked at it, and commented on it. You are, at heart, a genuine, sweet person. I think you’ve got walls of protection up when it comes to your sister.”

  “You’re right. I do. I don’t think I trust her all that much.”

  “I get that.”

  I leaned forward, wiping the sand from my hands. “I’m going to try. I know it won’t be easy. Last night, she told me her life was none of my business, and she called me little Miss Perfect.”

  “Ouch. That’s not fair.” Reed tapped a finger on the back of my hand. “And not true. You’re not perfect.”

  “Ha ha. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. And by the way, just to clear up something. This,” he pointed between us, “was not all your sister. I don’t take orders when it comes to kissing.”

  My stomach tumbled. I thought of Cow Bell. What was it Joy always said about people you feel an instant connection with? That somewhere, some other time, or on some alternate plane of existence, we knew each other. I considered that faraway place, one that may or may not have been a barn, and there, and only there, did I allow myself to imagine Reed and me together.

  Or maybe it wasn’t about that at all. Maybe we were always meant to be friends. Maybe our stars aligned in that moment because of Joy.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon at the expo. I wandered up and down the boardwalk, checking out the various exhibits and watching other artists work outdoors. Kids were on a massive roll of paper, dipping their fingers into paint jars, and some were sand castle artists. It seemed like every kind of art was represented. I also bought a brand new sketchbook.

  At the end of the pier, I stared at the water below for a long time. The waves appeared to be coming in from odd angles, swirling around the support pillars below.

  It was still a few hours before sunset, but eventually, the water would drop back a little, and the light blue sky would shift from white clouds and bright sun to a palette of pinks. Then the sun would sink into the pocket on the horizon, leaving behind fuchsia and lavender streaks.

  Not only did the colors fascinate me, but the whole process did. It looked so beautiful and effortless. A melding of manganese purple, a ribbon of burnt sienna, a shade of cadmium red or orange. The perfect sunset happened every day, but was it really effortless, or something that required huge amounts of orchestration? Or were humans the only complicated things in nature?

  I didn’t know why I thought families should be easier than dealing with strangers. Strangers were the normal ones, because they were the people we actually didn’t know.

  There was no such thing as a normal, perfect person. We were all head cases. What did Joy’s Goethe tattoo say? Defects were necessary.

  I needed to remember that for myself—and allow it for my sister, too.

  I propped my elbows on the railing at the end of the pier, feeling the solid wood press into my middle. The water below swirled around the wood pilings. Being closer to my sister required letting her know, in some capacity, that I wanted to know her in some way, too.

  Chapter 26

  Ego at Sunset, Salted Paper Print

  My mom, Reed, and I drove to Sunfish Grille on the Currituck Sound. We’d picked an early dinnertime, but the restaurant was packed. So we hovered in the crowd, on the deck outside, waiting for our table for eight to be ready. Zac, his mom, and Lily were running late, hitting traffic on the way out of Hatteras. Chloe was still doing her Lost Colony thing, continuing her quest in identifying and immersing herself in all things tragic. Joy was somewhere. I hadn’t seen her yet. We took her car, but she’d apparently ridden a bike to the restaurant. I braced myself for her return. Because the first thing my mom had said to me when we got in the car was, “I talked to your sister. Told her she shouldn’t be shutting you out.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You didn’t. What happened to the ocean talk and going with the flow?”

  “I did, and well, you know your sister. She doesn’t like to be told what to do. Even if it’s something that could help.”

  “Crap,” I said under my breath. If my sister was mad, it was me she would be mad at. Little Miss Perfect tattled.

  “You have nothing to worry about, Grace.”

  I did. Even if I’d had good intentions, they paved the road to hell. And that’s where it felt like we were all headed for this evening.

  So once at the restaurant I needed a buffer, but all I had was my mom and Reed. Zac wasn’t there yet.

  The pager danced on the seat next to me, and I jumped.

  My mom placed her hand on my back. “Come on, honey. Let’s get some food.”

  The three of us followed the hostess to our table, passing two Tiki bars on the way, but before I could sit, a pair of strong arms slid around my waist. I angled my head up to see Zac smiling at me.

  I slumped into him. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  Zac kissed my cheek. “Me, too.”

  From behind me, my mom said, “I’m going to see if I can find your sister.”

  I nodded, pulling away from Zac. “How was your day? Where are your mom and Lily?”

  “I dropped them off at the house. Lily didn’t feel well. Combo of too much sun and a long car ride.” He slid a chair out for me to sit. “But Hatteras was fun.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Zac sat next to me, and I scooted closer. I wanted to warn him that I’d poked the bear (my sister). But I didn’t know how to present the problems surrounding my sister getting married and annulled without telling me, and how she’s now pissed that I talked with my mom about it. One big bomb? Or in bits and pieces, like shrapnel?

  Except Reed and Zac were already deep in conversation about the Cape Hatteras lighthouse.

  When my sister showed, there would probably some kind of confrontation. Could I diffuse it by asking her about the latest self-help book she was reading? I had no idea. I wished I could understand my sister. Maybe there were some moments that I had, when we were kids. But even that wasn’t free from tension. Like a simple board game was never simple because Joy hated to lose, and she wasn’t above cheating. On the other hand, there was the time when we were really little, and she pushed that snake away when we were sitting under the honeysuckle in our backyard. There were other times, too, like our crazy dancing moments, and the singing in the car on the way to lake.

  “You okay, Pinks?”

  Zac reached for my hand. Talking
with him would have to wait. “I think I got a little too much sun today, too.”

  “Yeah, you’re looking a little flushed.” His thumb rubbed circles on my palm. “What did you end up doing?”

  “Not much. I walked along the beach. Saw some art.” I peeked at Reed, but he was talking to my mom.

  Chill, Shady McShaderson. You looking for more trouble? It’s not like Zac knows Reed is kiss guy.

  “So, um, how were the surf lessons?” I asked, my toe tapping a frenetic rhythm underneath the table.

  “Great. Our surf instructor was interesting. He had this huge boom box set up on the beach, with a playlist that had every surf song ever invented. After a while, I started subbing in donuts. Donuts, USA, Donuts of the Surf, Catch a Donut, and my personal favorite, Save Your Sundays for Donuts.”

  “I bet he didn’t have, I’ll Take the Next Donut.”

  Donuts were a safe subject. My toe relaxed. Intermission time.

  “What surf song is that?”

  “’I’ll Take the Next Wave’ by Slow Take.”

  “Huh. Who knew? A surf song by a band from a landlocked European country.”

  I bumped my shoulder against Zac’s. He bumped back.

  “Hey, all.” Joy plopped into the seat across from me, next to Reed. She grabbed her rolled paper napkin and shook her head as she picked at the sticker that held it together. “Paper? Do they think this stuff grows on trees?”

  Joy scoffed, making a point of shaking out the napkin and pressing it to her lap with a dramatic flourish as my mom sat at the far end of the table.

  My toe tap dancing resumed. This time, both feet participated. I glanced at my mom. Her face was set, her mouth in a straight line, forced in some in between place, one that didn’t exactly make her thrilled.

  I turned to Joy. She flipped through the menu, wiggling her eyebrows. Then she tossed the menu in front of her, knocking her water glass over.

  “Whoops,” she said, righting it and placing the flimsy napkin on the puddle of ice and water. Cold water dripped through the table’s slats and onto my foot. I tucked my feet under my chair. Show was over.

  Both Zac and Reed offered up their napkins for the spill, which hovered in the middle of the table, dripping through to the floor.

  Was she on something? I surveyed the restaurant, my gaze stopping on the Tiki bar. She drank a shot in the barn, even though she said didn’t drink. Whatever that meant. Or maybe I’d inadvertently unleashed something the other night simply by asking her if I could help. I thought of the zombie poltergeist movie Zac and I watched last summer. Invisible paranormal entities were notoriously unpredictable. How could you prepare for a sneak attack?

  “Any vegan options on the menu, Reed?” she asked, except she stared at me when she said it.

  I shifted backwards, and my plastic chair wiggled.

  Reed considered her question, as if she wasn’t acting weird. Then again, he seemed to know her more than I did. Or was he used to this weirdness because he always had to diffuse his own brother? He pushed his lips out and scanned the menu. “French fries?”

  “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. I’m done.” She stood. Her chair tumbled backwards. Heads swiveled in our direction.

  Forget sneak attack. Joy was making a scene.

  “Joy,” my mom and I said in unison.

  Joy ignored our mom, zeroing in on me instead. “What? Have anything else to talk about that’s not your business, Grace?”

  I sank in my chair, and my legs wobbled under me. So she didn’t like that I’d discussed her with our mom. Well, I didn’t really have a choice, right? I mean, I tried to talk to her on the beach, but she wanted none of that. I was worried. Didn’t that count?

  Zac shot me a confused look. In that second, I wished for the power of mental telepathy to tell Zac not to do or say anything. I had a feeling we all needed to be quiet, stay still, and she’d leave, like if a bear suddenly appeared in the middle of your campsite. Play dead. Which, by the way, wouldn’t work against a poltergeist or zombie.

  Not that it mattered. Joy snatched my thoughts right out of the air between us. “I bet you can’t wait for me to walk away so you can discuss what to do about me, right? As if you don’t have your own shit to figure out, Miss I’m-Sooo-Perfect.”

  I steeled myself. I swore the restaurant noise lowered, the conversation, the music, the clinking of silverware, it all faded into the background. Heads turned toward my sister. Gazes darted in the direction of our table. She was making a scene. Classic Joy.

  I got up. I didn’t have to sit there. I could stand and catch the next breeze right out the door.

  “No. You’re not leaving,” Joy said, as I attempted to squeeze between a waiter and someone’s chair. But I did. Adrenaline pumped and my legs quivered like a slackened rubber band. I walked faster and, somehow, I made it outside, through the throng of people waiting for tables and out to the parking lot.

  “Grace, stop,” Joy said from somewhere behind me.

  I twisted around. “What?”

  “What?” Joy mimicked me in a higher voice.

  “What’s your problem? I didn’t do anything wrong. Talking to Mom was the normal thing to do.”

  “Normal thing?” Joy sighed and threw her arms up. Behind her, I caught a glimpse of Zac weaving through the crowd outside the restaurant. “I forgot. You are queen of Normal Land. You do everything the right way.”

  “You’re the one who acts like she’s perfect,” I said. I couldn’t help it. Even though there was a big part of me that didn’t want to upset her, because I imagined it must completely suck to be left by your husband (no matter how short-lived), she was making me mad. Really mad. “You act like you’ve figured everything out, like you have the answers to the deep questions of the universe or something. Like you’re having tea with the Dalai Lama every morning.”

  My sister narrowed her eyes just as Zac stepped into the parking lot where we stood. “You’re such a suck-up, Grace. You do exactly what Mom and Dad, especially Dad, tell you. Paint the house, Grace. Sure, Dad. Mow the lawn, Grace. Okay, Pops. Be the perfect daughter, Grace. You betcha.”

  “Hey,” Zac said once he was close enough. “I don’t think you two are going to solve anything out here tonight. Joy, why don’t you take your mom back to the house? Grace, come on. You can ride with me.”

  I nodded. Take me far away, please. We both headed to Zac’s truck, when my sister said, “So did you tell Zac about your extracurricular fun at The Cow Bell?”

  I froze. In my peripheral vision, I could see Zac drop his head.

  “Joy…” There was a warning tone in his voice.

  “Did she tell you? Oh wait, what am I saying? What would little Grace do when she screws up? She fixes it and ties it all up in a neat bow. Let me guess, she said she was so devastated by your one-minute fake breakup that she needed consoling in the form of making out with a stranger in the middle of the dance floor?”

  I whirled around. “Shut up, Joy.”

  Zac took my hand. “Let’s go.”

  I was about to go with Zac when I noticed Reed was coming. Joy must have caught my look, because she followed my gaze.

  “Awesome,” she said. “Let’s hash this interesting situation out. Isn’t that the normal thing to do, Grace?”

  I held my breath as Joy threw an arm around Reed’s neck. “So, I’m curious. How exactly did Grace explain it all away to you, Reed?”

  Reed’s brow furrowed, but when his eyes met mine, he must have figured out what was going on, because he ducked out from under Joy’s arm. “I think we should go. You want to go get your mom?”

  “No. I want to know what Grace said. She told Zac that it was a moment of weakness. What did she tell you? Because, obviously, she isn’t falling all over you. This isn’t a fairytale ending for you, I’m afraid. Looks like she chose Zac. So how did Miss Perfect let you down?”

  Reed’s face was set in an unidentifiable mask. “I’m leaving.”

  “Of c
ourse you are,” she said to his back. “It’s in your DNA.”

  My jaw dropped, but Reed continued walking, toward Joy’s car, without acknowledging anything that Joy said. It didn’t matter, because I felt Zac’s fingers drift away from mine. Now he knew who I’d kissed.

  “Zac, wait,” I said as he moved.

  “Wow,” Joy said. “You didn’t tell him. Interesting. I thought we all had to know everything about everyone at all times.”

  “Shut up. Just shut the hell up.” Spit flew from my mouth. “Stop acting like you know what’s best for me. Stay out of my life.”

  Then I ran to Zac’s truck as he started it. I reached for the handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. Under the circumstances, I imagined him speeding out of the parking lot without me.

  But he let me in. I dropped into the passenger seat and pressed my hands into my lap. My fingers shook.

  “You and your sister need to talk.”

  “Yeah, but not now,” I said, sinking lower in the seat.

  My sister stood in the parking lot. Reed was in the driver’s seat of her car.

  “I think you need to talk to her.”

  “I will. Someday. Maybe in the next decade.”

  Zac didn’t shift into drive. “I think now might be a good time.”

  “What?” I stared at his profile. His jaw was set. This wasn’t the time to explain why I hadn’t mentioned that Reed was the guy I’d kissed.

  “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

  “Whatever.” I grabbed the door handle but paused as I saw my mom come down the pathway from the restaurant. She said something to Joy in passing and got in the passenger seat of Joy’s car, then Reed drove away.

  My sister was alone in the lot.

  Zac was waiting for me to get out. Still, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I’d kind of run out of options. So I got out, and the moment I stepped away, Zac drove away.

  When I looked at Joy, she was already heading in the opposite direction. I scoffed. Now what?

  I followed her, but when she unlocked her bike at the bike rack and rode in my direction, I stopped.

 

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