by Jessi Kirby
That same silence fell over Tyler and me now, and I searched for a way to break it. “So the dad just left after that? Left everything here?”
Tyler swept the flashlight around the room. “Yeah. I would have too. There’s no way I could stay and look out at the place where my whole family died right in front of me.”
My chest squeezed hard, forcing the air out of me slowly. I had. For nine years. I’d stared straight out at cold, black water, apologizing for whatever it was I’d done and willing her to come back, wondering what I could have done differently.
Tyler turned to me. “You okay? You wanna get outta here?”
“Yeah. I … I need some fresh air, I think.” He looked at me for a long moment, trying to decipher what had changed. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to sound normal. “Let’s go.” I ushered him in front of me and tentatively put my hand on his shoulder as we made our way back out to the door.
It was lighter than I expected it to be when we stepped onto the porch of the Carter Cottage. The tang of the salt air, coupled with the smack of a wave, opened my chest up and I breathed in deeply. Tyler was looking at me, his flashlight pointed at our feet. I raised my eyes to meet his and hoped that he couldn’t see what I had felt.
“You get a little spooked in there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. That was …”
“It’s okay. I don’t blame you.” We were quiet a moment, and he smiled. “Although I did warn you it was creepy.” A stray strand of my hair rose with the breeze, and I shivered, then tucked it away behind my ear.
“You cold?” Tyler unzipped his hoodie and took a step closer, offering it. It was, of course, a nice gesture. In a different moment I might have thought of it as cliché, maybe even laughed it off or teased him a little. Now, though, it felt like a prelude to a moment of possibility, and the thought made me tingly with anticipation.
“Thanks.” Smiling, I slid my arms into the too-big sleeves that were still warm, and pulled it tight around me.
“Wanna walk a little?”
I nodded, and we stepped off the porch and back over the fence onto the sand. The fog had risen to form a hazy white ceiling above us, and the few nearby lights reflected off it, creating a pale glow. We walked in the wet sand at a slow, meandering pace with no destination other than, in my mind, the moment we had missed out on more than once before. I glanced over at Tyler, who picked up a pebble and rubbed the sand from its surface with his thumb. He stopped abruptly, then raised his eyes to mine and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. I waited. Breathlessly would be only a slight exaggeration. Then he turned and chucked the pebble into the water, where it skipped over the surface twice before disappearing. “So is your curiosity satisfied now?” Tyler asked, taking a step to keep going.
I wanted to be bold. Tell him no, it wasn’t. Stop him, turn, and lean in close—so close, he couldn’t mistake it for anything else.
“Maybe,” I managed. “I might want to see some of the other ones, though, another time.” Not quite as bold as I’d imagined, but it still left an opening. We walked side by side.
A smile, not a smirk, spread over his face, and he looked over at me, our footsteps slowing. “I think that could be arranged.” In the pale light reflected off the water and the clouds, I could just make out his eyes, looking at me intently, and I knew we were close. All it would take was a step forward, a tilt of the head, a tiny risk. The seconds stretched out between us.
I stopped walking and turned to face him. “Good. Because I … You …”
I saw his head tilt slightly as he leaned in, and before I had time to think about it, his hand was warm on my cheek. And he kissed me. A slow, sweet kiss that was confident and gentle at the same time, that tasted like salt, and mint gum, and perfection, and that seemed to ask a question he already knew the answer to. I melted into it entirely, and in that moment nothing else existed. We lingered there after, our foreheads tilted together, not sure what to say.
Then Tyler whipped his head back abruptly.
“Shit.” He was looking past me, down the beach. “Headlights.”
I spun around. “That’s my dad.” We watched the beams rise and fall over the sand at the south end of the beach, definitely coming our direction. “He’s going to my house. Dinner.”
Tyler was taking off his shoes. “Run. You need to run home. Now. Go.”
I burst out laughing and slid my sandals off. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. What do you think he’s gonna do if he gets home and you’re not there? Go.” He was laughing too, shaking his head. “Shit.”
“Okay, okay.” I took a step, then turned around. “Where are you going?”
“Home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood barefoot in the sand, holding his shoes and the flashlight.
I didn’t move.
He pointed at the light beams still making their way up the beach. “Go, or he’s gonna have Newport Beach PD out here looking for you.”
“All right.” I smiled. “I’m going.”
I turned, then glanced back to see Tyler, in the lights of the dirt road, making his way slowly onto the beach behind me, to where he would take the road up to his car. I looked around. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, but once they did, I found the water’s edge and broke into a run.
I couldn’t remember ever having run at night. It was a different sensation altogether. I wasn’t conscious of my breathing or steps at all. Just the sounds of the night as I passed them by—a wave crashing, the voices and clinking of silverware that drifted down from the restaurant, and the literal symphony of frogs in the creek bed I had heard the night we’d arrived.
I kept my eyes on the headlights as they rounded a point and then disappeared into the cove south of our house, right as I reached the bottom of our steps. I took two at a time, then all in one motion I burst through the door, flipped on the light, and threw myself into the green chair, swooping up my book on the way down. Light splashed onto the sand in front of our house, followed by the low hum of my dad’s engine working its way over the dips and hills. He slowed the truck and flashed his spotlight up at the living room window. I sat up in the chair and waved enthusiastically, and he cruised right on by, continuing his patrol of the beach.
I exhaled loudly, leaned my head back on the chair, and replayed the kiss, over and over, until my breathing returned to normal. Tyler was interested. And an amazing kisser. Definitely worth missing the party for. Smiling, I snuggled down into his sweatshirt and rolled my head over to the side so I could look out the window. But I stopped abruptly when I found myself staring straight at my mom’s cottage. The windows were dark, but not boarded up like the ones in the Carter Cottage. In one spot the fence leaned enough so that a person could just step right over it and find their way to the door, which was probably unlocked. I sat for a moment, wondering what it would be like to step inside it, just to see if there was anything left of her there.
I shivered and sat up, flipped to the first page of the book in my lap, and felt in my chest that same heavy sinking feeling when I read the opening sentences.
All sea goddesses inherit the sea’s qualities. Just as the sea can be gentle and nurturing, or violent and deadly, so can they. They are at once beautiful and cruel, tender and selfish, vulnerable, yet unattainable. Above all, they offer shimmering glimpses into the deep ocean of secrets that is a woman’s heart.
My mother had always been a mystery to me, even when she was alive. She’d been all those things, all at once, and we’d tiptoed around her even then. And now, here, she’d stirred up the placid surface of my life and thrown me into rough, dark water—a deep ocean of secrets.
I couldn’t tell anyone I was flailing.
“Wake up, sunshine. We’re goin’ surfin’. Your board’s in the bus, coffee’s made, and we leave in five minutes.” I pulled my covers up over my head.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s good out there.”
�
��Where are we going?” I mumbled.
“South parking lot. Ab Rock. You know the place, I’m pretty sure.” I could hear the smiling sarcasm in my dad’s voice. Apparently enough time had passed that we could now joke about my misadventures. I waited for his feet to pad away down the hall, and replayed kissing Tyler for the millionth time before I got out of bed. I hadn’t dreamed it. It had really happened.
A few minutes later I was pouring enough cream into my coffee to make it the same color as the sand outside. I didn’t much like to drink it, but I did like the feel of the warm cup in my hand as we drove down the highway and then stood on the cliff, checking the surf. Nobody else was out yet, and the sun sparkled on the water, inviting us to be the first ones. My dad put his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed. “Seems like I haven’t seen you all week. It’ll be nice to get out there together. We can go get a big breakfast after.”
I smiled over at him. “Sounds good.” It did, but I was wary. We were going to have to talk about things at some point, and I could tell it was gonna be today, out in the water.
He took a slow sip of his coffee and watched as a set lined up. Aside from the waves, it was so quiet I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. He swallowed and nodded decisively. “All right. Let’s go.”
My board hit the water with a slap. I jumped on, letting it glide for a long moment before I dug my arms in to paddle. My dad was out in front of me and I concentrated on trying to keep up with the powerful strokes he always made look easy. No matter how much time had passed since he had last surfed, his strokes were sure, fast, and smooth. And no matter how in shape I thought I was, I always had to push to keep up with him. By the time I caught up, he was already straddling his board as it bobbed gently in the glassy morning water. Arms burning, I pushed myself up, and we sat, just the two of us, in the shadow of Ab Rock.
“Great morning to be out here, huh?” he said happily. “Did you see that last little set that came through?”
I nodded, and he motioned for me to paddle closer to him. “If you wanna get any of ’em, you gotta be right over here, almost on top of the rock.”
I slid back onto my stomach and paddled over, eyeing the base of the rock we had both jumped off. We sat for another moment, with only the gurgling sounds of the water between us. It was peaceful, but I knew the weight of our “talk” hung over us. I also knew that my dad probably didn’t know how to start, so I figured I’d just throw it out there.
“So. This is it. The place where you and Mom met.” I watched him carefully for a reaction as I spoke. “Something about you being sloshed … jumping naked … off a rock …” I gestured up at the sheer rock cliff above us and smiled, trying to keep the tone light for as long as I could. “We never did get to talk about when you did it. You know, with you yelling at me and all.”
He gave me a stern look that lasted only a second before it turned into a slow smile. “No, I guess we didn’t. There are a few things we didn’t get to talk about, on account of you yelling at me, too.” I looked down at the bumpy white wax on my board but didn’t say anything.
A swell passed under us, providing a moment, and questions bounced off each other in my mind. I decided to start small, and looked up into my dad’s face. “So did you really meet her that night? When you kissed her?”
He grinned the grin that made him look young and happy. “Yeah. I spent all summer watching her on the beach, working up the nerve, and when she showed up at the party, I knew it was my last shot, because she’d be leaving soon.” He smiled down at the water, remembering. “I half-expected to get slapped, but she was a good sport about it. She didn’t have a choice but to fall for me after that. From that night on, if she was here, we were together.”
“Hm.” I watched my foot swirl around under the water, and I enjoyed the thought that they had once been young, and reckless, and happy. It was encouraging, even though I knew how the story ended.
“So she didn’t live here? She just visited?”
He nodded. “The cottage belonged to her grandma, Louanna, who you’re named after. She lived here permanently. Your mom and her parents lived up near San Francisco. They came down summers, but rented a house on Balboa Island. Only your mom stayed here, at the cottage. Louanna always had a room made up for her.” His tone hardened slightly. “Her folks didn’t care for it down here, though. It was too …” A pause. “It wasn’t good enough for them.” He shook his head, and in the tightening of his jaw, I started to understand. “But your mom loved it. She loved it like she’d lived here all her life. So she stayed here with her grandma. Every summer, every vacation she could.”
I’d never met her parents. Had never even heard them mentioned. Growing up, my dad’s mom had been my only grandparent. She lived a few blocks over from where we’d lived in Pismo Beach, and she was as much a part of my life as my parents. I never questioned it, before or after my mom was gone. Now, though, a reason took shape. Another wave passed under us, and I waited a beat before asking.
“So … did they not like you, either? Is that why I don’t know them?”
He blinked, maybe taken aback at my questions, maybe at what the answers were. Then he cleared his throat and looked out over the water, and resignation settled on his face.
“No. They didn’t like me. And they hated that she did. And, yes, that’s why you don’t know them. When she chose me, they chose not to be a part of her life.” His voice was a mix I knew, sad and angry. “Or yours.”
I took a deep breath, trying to understand. It didn’t make sense. “Because they didn’t approve of you? Because of money or something? That’s insane. She was their only daughter. How does a parent even do that?” I was surprised at how indignant I felt, but it sounded like the most ridiculous, old-fashioned thing I’d ever heard, to disown your child because she fell for someone you didn’t approve of. My dad watched me without saying anything, and then I knew.
There had to be more.
More than one wave passed under us this time, but we didn’t move or say anything. After what seemed like forever, he got to the more.
“We were seventeen, Anna. We had a year of school left, and then she was supposed to go off to some big college, far away, and live up to their expectations. She’d already made up her mind that she wasn’t going….” He paused, like he was deciding what to say. Then he cleared his throat. “When she told me about you, I was on my knees in the sand before she could finish, with a piece of sea grass for a ring, and it was the most right thing I’d ever done in my life.”
He looked at me now with eyes I’d seen before. Eyes that had lost her. And I couldn’t stand to look back, so I put my head down and ran my finger down the center of my surfboard. They were a year older than me. And parents.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. You were a little girl when she died, and right after it happened, you wanted to know everything about her, like you were collecting details to remember her by. You slept with her clothes, wore her perfume, asked me to tell you the stories she used to tell.” He shook his head. “You’d sit out there on the beach with me, talking about how she’d come back as a mermaid and you’d swim together in the waves. It broke my heart, but it was good to talk about her with you.” He paused and looked down again before bringing his eyes back to me. “Then somewhere along the line you stopped asking, like she was just gone. And we stopped talking…. So I didn’t tell you when we came here. I didn’t know how to even start.”
I felt weary. Like I was sinking. For a long time I’d put it on him that we didn’t talk about her. But it had been me, too. Because the older I got, and the more I remembered, the heavier it weighed on me. It was easier to think of both her and her death as a dream, or to push it back to a place where the details were hazy and unclear, and I was never there.
I stared hard now at the beach, zipping my moonglass back and forth along its chain, wishing I had just left it alone, because now there was more, and it started with a choice she’d made befor
e I was even born. She’d chosen my dad, and she’d chosen me. She’d left her family, and her life, and the place she’d loved behind, because of the choice she’d been forced to make. By me.
I blinked back tears and bit the inside of my cheek. My dad treaded water over to me and put his hand on my leg. “I wasn’t sure about coming here at first, because of all this. But the happiest memories I have of your mother are here, and lots of people around knew her, and so I thought, now that you’re older, if you started to wonder, it might be a place you could find out who she was and see her in a different light. She was really happy here.”
He looked hopeful, like he wanted me to ask him more about her. He had no idea he’d just confirmed what I’d always thought, that I was a part of her unhappiness. We’d never said the word for what her death really was, but people who are happy with their lives don’t just walk out into the water. He had to know that. I’d known it, somewhere deep, that things were bad, but I didn’t know when it had happened. And now I realized it had begun with me.
I nodded and wiped at my tears, smoothing the surface back over, because, really, that was what we both wanted. “I’m glad you told me. And I’m so, so sorry. For … for how I’ve been, and … everything.”
“Don’t be, Anna. It’s all right.” Another little roller passed under us, and he motioned to the wave that was rising behind it. “Let’s get this one in and go get some breakfast.” I was more than ready to be finished talking about it as we slid to our bellies and paddled. The wave came beneath me, lifting me up, and I gave one more hard pull before popping to my feet, just as my dad did the same. Together we cut a wide path down the glass face of the wave, over tiny brown fish that darted across the sandy bottom, and I did my best to leave it all out in the water, a deep ocean of secrets.
