Ava couldn’t wait for Jeff to arrive and see her in her new dress, on her birthday.
And then before they knew it, the doorbell rang, and didn’t stop ringing until the backyard was full of soon-to-be eighth-graders.
And Jeff Jackson arrived, all dressed up in a nice shirt and tie, and five minutes later there was Josh Kirschner with his marble eyes, magically transforming Morgan from a clipboard-carrying taskmaster to a googly-eyed, giggling dork. Ava made sure to make many mental notes so as to torture her friend in the future, though for right now she was thrilled to see Morgan so happy. And if it all worked out, as it seemed it would, they could double date! With the two cutest—and nicest, as it turned out—boys in school!
Ava smiled just as Jeff came over and took her hand, leading her from the glass doorway onto the lawn, behind the tent where everyone was gathering to sample her dad’s meatballs and Morgan’s mother’s famous artichoke dip.
Above them, a swan soared by, in the sky. Ava smiled up at it, and then looked right into Jeff Jackson’s blue eyes.
He took her hand in his, and she could feel him trembling.
She swallowed. Shivers went up and down her spine.
Behind them their classmates were talking and laughing as the sun dropped slightly into the dip of the mountain, and her father’s friends started tuning up. But she and Jeff Jackson were alone, in the midst of all the warmth and wonder.
“Ava,” he said, his voice cracking.
She nodded, encouraging him. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “Yes?”
“I think you’re really . . . special. Different from other girls.”
If only you knew how different, she thought. But she just smiled up at him, waiting.
“Like that night you were in the woods . . .”
“What night?” she asked, quickly.
“When you were holding that robe.”
“Robe?”
“The one with the white feathers. I told you it looked like you were holding a swan, remember?”
She nodded, slowly. Did he know, after all? Had he seen her transform? He was giving her the strangest look.
“I just . . . It was amazing, Ava. Magical. Maybe one day you’ll tell me more about it, what you do.”
She didn’t dare ask him what he meant, and hoped she was being paranoid.
“I feel lucky to know you,” he said. “I feel like the luckiest guy in school.”
“You do?”
He nodded, and his whole face softened, and she realized, suddenly, that he was going to kiss her, and that it didn’t matter what he’d seen and what he hadn’t seen, what he knew or didn’t. Jeff Jackson was going to kiss her! Her face had to be the color of a tomato. Probably it was the exact same shade as her new dress.
Everything slowed down, but it was a good slowing down now, as he took a step closer to her and then bent down. She lifted her face and didn’t dare to breathe.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered.
“So are—” she began, and then his lips pressed into hers and without thinking her hands moved around his neck and his hands moved around her waist and they were kissing like that, and it was, she thought, the best moment of her entire life. Even better than flying.
And she would know.
The rest of the party passed in a blur of music and kissing and cotton candy and Jeff Jackson’s arms around her and everyone whirling about in the grass—because once Ava and Jeff and Morgan and Josh started dancing to the old-people music, everyone else did, too, everyone but Jennifer Halverson and Vivienne Witmer, who sat sullenly in their seats with piles of meatballs in front of them—as Ava’s dad laughed and played his banjo as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
And before anyone knew it, the sun went down and the fairylights and torches came on, and everyone was barefoot on the grass in their button-down shirts and dresses, and parents and older brothers and sisters began showing up to take everyone home, and then even Jeff Jackson left, promising to come over the next day, and Josh Kirschner left, and Morgan’s mother was packing up the cotton candy machine and helping Ava’s father and his friends clean up and telling her daughter to get her bags, it was time to go home.
Morgan hugged her best friend good-bye and then looked at her with a big goofy expression, her green eyes filling with tears. “Have a beautiful night,” she said.
“I will,” Ava answered.
“I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy for you, too. Josh really likes you.”
“I know,” Morgan said, so shyly and sweetly that Ava decided maybe she wouldn’t torture her friend after all. Well, not too much. “Call me in the morning and tell me everything.”
Ava nodded.
Morgan turned away and seemed to hesitate, and then she turned around again. “And come back, Ava. Don’t you go away.”
“I will,” Ava whispered, smiling. “Don’t be crazy.”
“I guess I’m now officially allowed to be jealous, aren’t I? Say hi to your mama for me.”
And then it was just Ava and her dad standing happy and sleepy under the fairylights and the full moon and Ava’s dad saying, “You still up for some fishing, kiddo? You look awfully tired,” and Ava saying, “UMMM YES, what are we waiting for?”
“You might want to change out of that dress,” Ava’s father said, but Ava refused. Who cared if it was inappropriate to wear red dresses at the creek? It was her birthday and she wanted to look her best for whatever was about to take place.
“Lord help me, I’m the father of a teenager now,” her father said, throwing up his hands and turning to the house. “From here on out, I’m picking my battles.”
And as she stood in the yard waiting for her father to change his clothes and get the rods and lures and whatever other weird things they’d need—hopefully no disgusting bugs or beetles—Ava stared at the moon as she had so many times before, and all the stars surrounding it, and remembered what her grandmother had always told her: You can see her, sometimes sitting on the moon, sometimes spread out over the stars, flying across the night sky.
Just then, a few more swans passed overhead, and Ava realized that her grandmother had always told her something of the truth, in her way.
And then Ava and her father were making their way along the dirt path that led, windingly, down to the creek, and the moon shone down bright the way it had when Ava had walked this same path—or had it been a different one? a path she could only see with her swan eyes?—with the swan maiden Helen, and the water rushed by in front of them, gleaming and glittering in the moonlight, full of dazzled fish, and then Ava and her father were standing on the side of the creek and her father put the rod in her hand and said, “Like this. Flick your wrist back like this,” but he seemed a little distracted, and kept looking up at the sky, and across the creek, and every little sound made him jump.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Ava said softly, finally, taking pity on him. “She’ll be here soon.”
He looked at her as if he hadn’t really seen her before that moment.
“Who?” he asked.
“Mama,” she whispered, and as she watched his face change and shift, go from surprised to relieved to scared, she continued, “I am like her, you know. I have a robe now, too.”
He breathed in and she realized: He was afraid she would leave him, the way her mother had. That she would leave him for the swan maidens.
“I thought it might be happening,” he said, “that it would happen to you. I’m so sorry.”
“Dad?” she interrupted him.
He looked at her. His eyes grew moist, gleaming in the moonlight.
“It’s okay. I like being this way. Like Mama.”
“You do?” Something like wonder passed over his face then, and it was as if her birthday happened all at once, right then and there, and she left her childhood behind. And she knew that no matter what happened in the future, everything would be okay.
“Yeah,”
she said. “I do. I like it. It’s who I am.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, nodding, and then he smiled. “She can’t wait to meet you, you know. She’s proud of you, Ava, and so am I.”
She smiled back. And then she lifted the rod, bent her arm back, and flicked her wrist like he’d shown her: “Like this, right?”
“You’re a natural,” he said. “Now just skim it over the water. See how the lure sparkles? The fish get confused and think it’s daylight. They’re dazzled by it.”
“Dazzled and moonstruck.”
He tilted his head. “I suppose they are. But who isn’t, really?” He threw out his own line, slowly reeled it in again.
They stood side by side, enjoying the silence, casting their lines over and over again, letting the lures skim across the water.
After an hour or so, maybe more—it was hypnotic, Ava realized, no wonder her father could do this for hours and hours on end—a swan swooped down from the sky and landed on the side of the creek next to them.
Everything became still, and quiet.
The swan’s feathers glittered under the moon, like fresh-fallen snow.
Ava watched the bird, transfixed, as her father wrapped his free hand around her own. She could sense his heart opening; and she didn’t have to look up at him to see the dazzled look on his face. There had never been anyone else for him, not since the day he witnessed her mother and her friends swimming happily in the creek, their white feathered robes lying side by side along the shore.
Now, down farther, along the line of the water, more and more swans landed, entirely silent, so silent that if not for their soft, glowing forms Ava never would have realized they were there at all.
Watching them, Ava thought of how open the world would be to her from now on, all the adventures to come, all the dreams that would be explained, other worlds to explore . . . and it was as if the moon were her heart and it was all coming open, breaking open inside of her. The whole future spreading out in front of her like a great gift, full of water and sky, miracles and new worlds. What wonders there were in store!
The water lapped quietly. The moon shone bright and full overhead.
And then the swan in front of them began to transform, and Ava forgot everything else. Even knowing it was coming, she couldn’t help but lose her breath as she watched the white feathers disappear, replaced by pale skin and a flowing white dress, the beak turning to lips, the long moon hair flowing down, and then her mother’s face, her jewel eyes staring right at her. More beautiful, more perfect than Ava could have ever imagined.
Ava’s father caught his breath beside her.
“Ava,” her mother said, stretching out her pale, gleaming arm.
And in that moment, as she released her father’s hand, Ava knew that no matter what happened in the future, what choices she’d have to make, who—or what—she would become, what would happen with Jeff, she would always be the daughter of two worlds . . . child of a father who fell in love with a swan maiden, child of a mother who fell in love with a human. She contained both worlds within her, with all their beauty and wonder and sadness, all the love that connected them, and that full, bursting moon that brought them together.
Ava released her father’s hand, and stepped forward.
“Mama,” she whispered. “You came.”
THE END.
The Next Full Moon Page 13
