Rising Tides

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  He walked to the spot next to me and leaned over the wooden rail. “I’d never seen anyone watch a sunset so closely. You were so still. It’s like you were memorizing it or something.”

  I watched the last trails of gold flicker and ebb from the sky. “I was.”

  He rested on his forearms, lowering his head so it was even with mine. As he leaned forward, I saw a simple strand of leather with a shell dangling from his neck. I reached out and scooped it in my left hand. “What is this?” I asked, touching the flat, round shell. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his breath whispering across my cheek.

  “A sand dollar. It’s like my rabbit’s foot. Good luck.”

  I stroked the smooth surface, tracing the small holes in it. “Did you find it here?”

  He shook his head. “No, my sister found it a long time ago. She knew I collected shells and gave it to me.”

  I released it. “Your sister,” I repeated. “Was that the teenager in all those pictures? The redhead?”

  Tyler straightened, nodding. “Yeah. That’s Alicia.” He tapped his finger on the railing.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  Tyler leaned upright and nodded. “Yeah, she was. Probably would have driven every guy around her nuts if she hadn’t died a year ago.”

  I watched his face, searching for the lines and shadows of pain. His blue eyes watched the waves roll onward. “I’m so--”

  “Don’t be,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to feel sorry for me. I told you because you asked.” He lifted his hand and raked it through his hair. “I think I’ve had quite enough people tell me they were sorry who didn’t even know my sister.” He looked at my face and saw confusion in my expression. “Now look who’s saying all the wrong things. I didn’t mean to sound like an ogre. My family’s got a lot of connections. Hell, at the gathering for the funeral there were so many strangers I had trouble finding my own family because of all the people. There’s a big difference between someone genuinely understanding your pain and somebody who pities you because of it.”

  The whole time he spoke, he focused on the ocean, as though trying to hold onto the consistency each wave brought. Another one would always be coming. Pity? He doesn’t want me to pity him. I could have laughed out loud would it not have been such poor timing. “I don’t feel pity, Tyler—and you do have a point. It’s kind of useless for someone to say they’re sorry after all; they didn’t cause her death, and they can’t take it back.”

  Tyler lifted his hand and set it on mine. The even line of his mouth shifted into a grin. “It’s nice to know somebody understands how I feel.” His fingers squeezed my hand slightly.

  I felt a lump in my throat. “There’s nothing worse than pity. Nothing in the whole world.” Pulling my hand away, I took one last glance at the sky as tears blurred my vision. For a moment, I thought about telling him the truth about the tumor and Gary’s affair and why I knew so much about pity. I wondered what his reaction would be. But just as quickly as that thought came, I brushed it aside. Maybe I would tell him, but not now.

  “It’s getting dark,” I said. “I’d better be getting back to the hotel before Gary sends out a search party.”

  As I headed for the door, I heard him ask, “Are you feeling well enough to drive?”

  My hand rose, and I wiped away the two streaks spilling down my face. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I braced my back and took a deep breath. “I don’t get too many of those.”

  Tyler walked in front of me and opened the door. Standing in the doorway, I put on my shoes. At the corner of my vision, I saw Tyler go to the kitchen table and pick up the conch I had often picked up. He offered it with both hands. “Take this with you. That way, you’ll always hear the ocean.”

  My fingers trembled as I accepted it. “Thank you.” I held the conch under my arm and picked up my keys.

  As I stepped out the door, he asked, “What time will you be here tomorrow?” He thrust his hands into his pockets and leaned against the door.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll be coming to paint tomorrow.”

  Tyler laughed and touched my shoulder. “When are you coming to sail? You do still want to go, don’t you?”

  I almost dropped the shell. My fingers tightened around it at the last minute. “You don’t mind?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “No. Should I?” He squinted slightly as if he were trying to remember something he had said that would have made me think I wasn’t welcome to go with him. “I’ll have a wetsuit for you this time.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” I finally amended, sorting through the keys until I found the one for the door. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll be here at twelve.” The wind swept my hair into my eyes, and I raised my hand to push it away. I took a deep breath and savored the salty air.

  “Good. I’ll have the cat ready, diapers and all.” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. We walked down the stairs side by side, our steps falling in rhythm as we walked.

  “Diapers? You mean like Pampers?” I asked as I unlocked the door and set the shell inside. “I can hardly wait,” I mumbled, thinking of a commercial. “I am potty-trained, you know.”

  “Wrong kind of diaper, Kelly,” Tyler murmured, tapping one hand against the opposite forearm. “I’ll show you what a sailor’s diaper looks like.” In the twilight between sunset and night, his skin looked golden, and the sand dollar lay against his shirt. He crossed one leg over the other while leaning against the door way.

  I waited for him to say something more, but he stared back at me with a half-cocked grin lighting his face. “You’re not even going to explain that one to me, are you?”

  “Nope. You want to know, be here at twelve.” His voice sounded deep and fluid, a tide washing to shore. “Or you really will be wearing Huggies.”

  I laughed and sat down in the driver’s seat. “See you tomorrow,” I said and waved, closing the door. From behind the tinted glass, I saw him uncross his arms and lift his hand, moving it slowly back and forth. During the drive back to the hotel, I stared into the faint glare of street lights and neon letters, imagining them all washed away beneath the swirling whitecaps I’d temporarily left behind.

  * * *

  “I thought we’d celebrate by going out to dinner,” Gary said, sorting through his clothes until he’d settled on a charcoal pair of slacks. “The deal is finally finished. Everything went great. Our new client is pleased, and we can go home tomorrow.” His fingers brushed through the huge stack of ties and finally selected a paisley print; he didn’t even glance at me.

  “Another job well-done,” I replied, pulling a black cocktail dress out of the closet. “Debra’s been an asset to this deal, no doubt.”

  Gary’s fingers stopped moving. He clenched his jaw in response. “Of course she’s been an asset.” He pulled out a white shirt and tugged the plastic wrap from around it. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I asked her to dine with us.” Instead of looking at me, he put it on and focused on draping the tie around the collar.

  I hung the dress on the hanger on the back of the door. “No, I don’t mind.” Closing the door, I turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature. Steam billowed from the stall, quickly fogging the mirror. Reaching out, I tested the water. I’d always preferred hot showers to lukewarm ones. Satisfied, I stepped into the stream and let it wash away everything.

  I closed my eyes. The water to sprayed my face, stealing my breath, leaving a burning tingle across my face. I lingered in that embrace for precious seconds, absorbing the warmth. In that stolen moment, I realized I wasn’t going back home with Gary, not tomorrow and not ever. I stepped back, washed my body and hair, and rinsed before stepping out and blow-drying my long hair.

  After we’d finished getting ready, Gary and I met Debra in the hotel lobby. “How are you doing?” she asked, patting my shoulder with her manicured fingernails.

  “Great,” I replied with enthusiasm I
didn’t feel. I shrugged away from her hand, watching the diamond tennis bracelet sparkle in he chandelier light. I wondered if Gary had given it to her. “I’ve never felt better.” I painted a smile on my face as we walked through the parking garage to the rental car.

  Always the gentleman, Gary opened my door and waited until I had seated myself before closing it. He offered Debra the same courtesy before slipping behind the wheel and driving us to the restaurant. The three of us stared out opposite windows, as though the passing lights had lured us from each other, and conversation didn’t resume until we’d been were seated inside Francesco’s Eatery. Then Gary said to Debra, “That was a fine job you did this week. I could never have closed the deal without you.”

  The waiter had seated us beside a window, and as I looked outside, I saw moonlight gleaming off the ocean. In that second, I wanted to be back at the beach house, far away from Gary and Debra. I closed my eyes and thought of Tyler’s face, his laugh, his hands.

  “..do much,” Debra said as I opened my eyes and focused back on the conversation. She looked down at her lap as she unfolded a scarlet napkin and laid it across her lap. “I’ll just be glad to get back home.”

  Gary’s hand touched my thigh with a soft, reassuring pat, as if I had spoken, not his mistress. “Yeah, I think we all know that feeling.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gary staring at me. I didn’t have to face him to know his expression. After four years of marriage, I knew his lips would be slightly pursed. His eyebrows would tug downward slightly, frowning without emotion. He would blink a few times, waiting for me to respond, and when I didn’t, he’d find some other words to say.

  “Have you spoken to your mother about Aaron?” he asked as his hand dropped away from my leg.

  Nodding, Debra replied, “He’s doing fine. He misses me and says he has lots of neat pictures for me to hang on the bulletin board at work.” She tilted her head back and brushed her shoulder-length hair over her shoulders.

  “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you,” I said, sipping my wine. Not that you’re completely unwelcome here. Gary always likes to see you.

  Gary stared at my hand, the one holding the glass. “Should you be drinking that, considering your medication?” he asked in a quiet voice. His hand touched my leg again, the fingers holding about as much passion as if I my leg had been a rolled-up newspaper.

  I lied, smiling pleasantly. “I’ll be fine.” I felt his fingers squeeze, reminding me to set the glass down. The forced upturn of my lips flattened to a line and I continued holding the glass and took another sip.

  Gary softly sighed, and again his hand dropped away. A waiter appeared and took our orders, saving the three of us from small conversation. Once he’d disappeared, Gary said, “Kelly, I’ve got something I wanted to give you.” He looked at me and held out a grey velvet box. I stared at it, and chills trickled down my arms. Had I never witnessed my husband kissing Debra, I might have believed him to be all the things I had wanted. I might have believed this little dinner was an act of charity. I might have even believed this little box held some small image of a love for me that was too limitless to express. Instead, I recognized guilt and pity. It had come wrapped in little boxes often enough these past few months.

  I smiled and fumbled as I picked it up, feeling the prick of tears burning my eyes. A stranger might have said I’d been so touched by this act, but I felt weighted down by the small diamond and pearl earrings when I opened the box. Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear my throat of the enormous lump. Another gift. Different jewelry, same guilt. “They’re beautiful.”

  Gary leaned over and kissed my cheek as he whispered, “So are you, love.” He reached across the table and grasped my hand, squeezing softly.

  “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” Debra said, looking down at her watch. “After all, they last forever.” She stood and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. “Excuse me.” She walked away.

  Gary looked away from me, toward Debra’s back. His lips tightened into a sharp frown, and I recognized the blatant anger she had aroused. I half-expected him to follow her exit cue, but he remained sitting beside me. Gary peered at my lobes and said, “Well, I’m in luck. You’re not wearing any. Put them on.” I started to protest, but his fingers had freed them from the velvet lining before I could say anything. He dropped them into my hand.

  With trembling fingers, I put them on. I felt the pearls and thought of the ocean and then of the tumors. Salt water pooled in my eyes and streamed down my face, despite the awful blinking.

  Gary reached up and lightly wiped away the tears. “Looks like you’re leaking, babe.” He leaned toward me and brushed his lips across my cheek. “I love you,” he whispered.

  I cleared my throat, which allowed me to avoid a like response. My fingers curled into fists, and the tightening in my chest began to hurt. Once it would’ve been enough to know that he loved me. Once it would’ve pulled me through anything, it would have made me feel safe. But I had lost once.

  “You’re so quiet. Are you feeling all right?” he asked, leaning back enough so that he could see my face. He was trying to read the lines and shadows as thought they were part of a new language he hadn’t studied. Yeah, I thought. They’re ruins.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “Just a little tired.

  Gary nodded and relaxed against the back of his chair as the waiter brought our food. I looked at the shrimp and baked potato and felt nauseated. My stomach lurched. I also peered at the salad and quickly decided that was a much safer bet. I picked up my fork and took a bite of lettuce, then cut up the steak and pushed the potato around a bit just to make it appear I had actually eaten some. The illusion must have worked because by the end of the meal Gary, who always noticed a full plate, said nothing about my lack of appetite.

  Debra returned and sat down without looking at either of us. But Gary glared at her, his dark eyes narrowed slightly, as though trying to gain the attention she refused to give. We all said very little, and an uncomfortable silence flourished until we arrived back at the hotel and Debra went to her own room.

  Before I lay down, I went to the window and opened it. The hotel wasn’t near the beach, but I wanted to believe that if I just imagined, I could hear the ocean. I wanted to smell the saline air. Lingering by the window, I stared at the sky spread like dark gossamer. At that moment I wished I had just one thing that certain in my life. Just one thing to guide me toward whatever future I had.

  “You look pretty tired, Kelly. Why don’t you come to bed?” Gary turned down the comforter and patted the sheets beside him. “You really need your rest.”

  Too fatigued for argument, I walked to the bed and sat then took off the earrings and put them on the nightstand beside the shell Tyler had given me. I lifted it to my ear and tried to hear the ocean’s roar echoing from within. As I held the shell, I thought of Tyler and the difference between his gift and Gary’s. They’d both came from the ocean, but one was priceless and one had no worth. For just a moment, I stared at the earrings and ran my fingertips over the smooth pearls. Then I changed into my nightgown and lay down. As I closed my eyes, reaching for sleep, Gary sat up and watched television. Even with the volume turned down, I could tell he was flipping through the channels, hardly pausing. He was looking for something besides commercials.

  “Kelly, are you asleep?” Gary whispered. He pushed the power button and turned off the television. In the darkness, I reached for the distant sound of ocean waves.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I lay completely still, feigning sleep. It was easier than talking about this or trying to understand what had gone so drastically wrong between us.

  “Damn, it’s cold.” He stood up and walked to the window. With a deft tug, he closed it and sealed my only connection to the ocean. The room sounded of too much silence. Then he walked back to the bed and tucked the covers more tightly around my body.

  “I’m sorry I let you down, Kel.” His hand touch
ed the back of my head, his fingers whispering through my hair. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I wish I could take it back, but I’m not being given that choice, am I?”

  My whole body ached from the stillness, and I wanted him to define “any of this” because I didn’t know what he felt guilty for. The affair? The cancer? The life we thought we were going to lead but hadn’t? I focused on the coverings, the way my skin felt pressed against softness.

  “Sleep tight, angel,” he whispered and bent to kiss me.

  Somehow, deep inside, I think he knew a storm was coming. He felt the breeze stirring the ocean, the waves that would destroy the fragments of our marriage once and for all. And that frightened Gary more than the cancer ever could have.

  Chapter Five

  The annoying beep of the alarm clock roused me from my cradle of slumber. I felt the bed shift as Gary reached to the nightstand on his side and turned it off. For just a moment, he curled his body around mine the way we used to sleep together. He leaned close and whispered into my ear, “Kel, it’s time to get up. We have a plane to catch in a few hours.” He brushed his lips against my ear. “You’re nice and warm.”

  He waited for some sign I was awake. When I lay perfectly still, he softly squeezed my shoulder. “Kel, wake up.”

  “I am awake,” I finally said and turned on my back. His lips brushed my cheek as he softly climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Moments later, I heard the shower come on.

  I rolled my shoulders, trying to shrug the cramping from my muscles. For some reason, it felt as though I hadn’t slept at all. My whole body ached with the stillness and even moving didn’t seem to help. I lay in darkness and had almost fallen back into the cavernous black of slumber when the bathroom door opened and light stole into the room. I closed my eyes, trying to shut it out.

  “Kel, are you awake?” His steps quickened as he walked to the bed and sat down next to me. “Are you feeling okay, hon? Have you got a headache?” He reached over and turned on the lamp. As it came on, I flinched. Gary reached down and touched my face, brushing my bangs back. “Sweetheart? Is there anything you want me to get for you?”