by Harper Bliss
“Mmm.” I nudge my nose against Kay’s neck. “What do you propose we do all day?”
“Bathe.” Kay kisses me on the scalp, and I feel the heat of her lips travel all the way through me.
“You’re bad.”
“I meant swimming in the lake, obviously.” She gives her deep rumble of a belly laugh, and the sound of it is already so familiar to my ears—so distinct and comforting—I can’t imagine life without it. “You’re the one with impure thoughts.”
I give her a gentle swat on the bottom, and it only makes her laugh harder.
“I have some stuff to do today, but feel free to stick around here if you don’t want to go back to your cabin.”
“Thanks.” I relax back into the crook of her shoulder, and there’s that thought I had yesterday at the cemetery again. Since it took root in the back of my mind, it has steadily worked its way forward, to the point of no return.
* * *
“There you are.” Nina saunters toward me while I sit reading the Northville Gazette on Kay’s deck.
Where I’d expected to feel a certain sense of deflation—and sisterly duty to entertain her—upon seeing her, her sudden appearance has an instant calming effect, as though my nervous system recognizes her from the years spent together in our youth. She’s family and my subconscious will never forget.
“Join me?” I shield my eyes from the midday sun with my hand and glare at her.
“Why of course, Little Sister.” She takes a seat in the chair next to me. “You’re positively glowing today. I’m guessing Brody has something to do with that. Did she”—she makes a suggestive motion with her hips—“all night long?”
I swat the paper toward her. “Must you be so crass?”
“Where I live, this is how we talk, Ellie. I mean it, you really have to come visit me. Soon.”
“I will,” I say, and I mean it, too.
“So, what are you going to do about the old Kayster when your leave is up? Break her heart? She’s absolutely smitten with you, the biggest fool can see that.”
“Jesus, Nina. We’ve only just got together.” And I haven’t even had the chance to pour you a drink before you ask me the hard questions.
“So? I know you, Sis. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“What I’m thinking is that I want to stay here with Kay forever.”
“You’d move back to Northville for her?” She clicks her tongue. “She must be really spectacular in the sack then.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring Nina’s comment, but thinking about the future nonetheless.
“What’s gotten into you, anyway? The way you were chatting with Dad last night as though you’d never even left? It didn’t look like the same Nina who turned up on my doorstep earlier that morning.”
She brushes one of her long blond curls out of her eyes. “Well, I was a bit tipsy, but…” She sighs and stares out over the lake. “He’s my dad, Ellie. I only have one. Just like I only have one mom and one sister.” Her voice tightens. I can almost hear her throat closing up. “All these years, I believed that, sometimes, despite being family, it just doesn’t work. On my travels, I’ve met enough people who shared the same experience—most of them running from something family-related. But what you did, I guess it changed me too, or at least my perception. When I walked into that house yesterday afternoon, something inside me gave. The exact same thing that has kept me from coming back for so many years… it just broke, went to pieces, dissolved.” She pauses to wipe a tear from her cheek. Before continuing, she holds up a finger. “We have one life, Ellie. And it’s fucking precious and I no longer want to waste mine hating my family over something that happened so long ago and that, quite honestly, I’ve blown so out of proportion, I could never get around it in my head.”
I try to hide the tremor in my voice. “Moving back to Northville as well, are we?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, unless Kay has any hot cousins she’d like to introduce me to.” Nina reaches for a stray napkin lying on the table. “Fuck it, Ellie. Look at us.” She shakes her head. “It’s just that, the longer you stay away, the harder it is to come back.”
“I know.” I look at my sister, at the tears in her eyes, and, despite her wet cheeks, I can’t help but smile. “I never asked you when your return flight is.”
“I don’t have one. I booked a one-way ticket. Your e-mail didn’t go into too much detail. I didn’t know what state you were in.” Another tear dangles from her eyelashes. “God, Ellie. I’ll never forget that moment when I read those words.”
“I’m sorry.” I still feel shame, but it’s less present. It feels more like a sentiment I can deal with. Not just because I’m sitting on Kay’s deck, in her chair, drinking a Sprite from her fridge, but mostly because the past few days, something inside of me has shifted. Not thanks to Kay, or Nina, or anything my parents have said, but because of me. Because of the woman I saw in the mirror last night, and how she looked back at me, with a glint of hopeful happiness in her eyes. “Thank you for coming.”
“I blamed them, you know. It was the first thought that crossed my mind. Then I blamed myself, for leaving you alone with them in that ghastly, cold house, to sit through those endless mute suppers.” More tears. Nina doesn’t even bother to wipe them away anymore. “Can you imagine my shock at seeing how they are together now? Like they’ve finally grown into a coat that was too big for most of their lives. It will never really fit, but it’ll do. That’s the impression I get. That they’ve settled for each other, because it’s how it has always been, and with that, they’ve finally learned to understand and even appreciate each other to some degree.”
“You’re absolutely right.” I sit there, under a glorious midday sun, realizing that there’s no other person on this planet who understands me in the way that my sister does. “I’ve missed you, Nina. Even though, once past sixteen, you were such a royal pain in everyone’s ass, I’ve really missed you.”
“Hug?” Nina glares at me suspiciously. “That’s really something I’ve learned to do in New Zealand, let people hug me.”
“I think the occasion calls for it.” I rise from my chair and open my arms. Nina walks into my embrace and, our arms thrown around each other, we cry some more.
“Does Kay have any beer in that fridge?” Nina asks when we break from our hug.
“Of course.” Grateful to spend a few minutes alone inside, I head to the kitchen. On the cabinet next to the fridge, there’s a framed picture of Mabel and Patrick as I remember them. I pick it up and carry it outside with me, along with two beers. “Remember them?” I ask Nina.
“God yes. I used to fantasize they were my parents.” Nina says it with a benign smile on her face. “Let’s get real, Ellie. Dee and John Goodman are our parents and, well, we love them, but they’ll never be our favorite people in the world to spend time with.”
“You’ll never be my favorite either, but I love you too.” I clink the neck of my bottle against hers. “I think you should stick around for a while.”
“Maybe I will, Little Sis, maybe I will.” Nina tips her head back and swallows a large gulp of beer. “God, this lake. It used to feel like the only place where we were truly a family. Do you know what I mean?”
Strangely, I do. I nod and let my gaze wander. Because my head is filled to the brim with her, an image of Kay, naked and dripping, pops up in my mind.
“Remember when we were little and I used to push you in?” Nina snickers. “Before you learned how to swim. You were wearing these ugly orange things around your arms, so I knew you wouldn’t drown.”
“I hated you so much.”
“It’s what sisters do, Ellie. The way of the world and all that.” Nina looks away from the lake and fixes her gaze on me. “Can you promise me you won’t do it again?” Her eyes go misty as she asks the question. “I need to know. It’s killing me inside. This giant worry. It sits here”—she taps her chest—“and I don’t know what to do with it.”
M
y eyes fill with tears as well, and I look longingly at the lake, wanting to jump in, to erase these tears I have to keep on shedding for what I did. But for the first time, I feel I can make the promise. “I won’t.” I reach out my hand and my sister takes it in hers.
EPILOGUE
“Pass the sauce, please,” Dad says, and Nina, sitting next to him, cheerfully hands him the pot. It’s the last night before I have to go back to Boston, and my family has gathered at the lodge, upon Kay’s and my invitation.
During the Oregon fall and beginnings of winter, Nina’s skin has lost most of its tan, and it looks as though she’s gained some weight, but she’s still here, and that’s what matters. She still hasn’t booked her return ticket.
“I need to make up for lost time,” she told me when I quizzed her about it a week ago. “I can’t just leave again.” I knew exactly how she felt.
“I have an announcement to make,” I say, once everyone is settled with a satisfying plate of Kay’s pot roast in front of them.
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant,” Nina chirps, because she just can’t help herself. I give her the evil eye while Kay clears her throat solemnly, indicating, to my ignorant sister, that this is an important moment.
“When I go back to Boston, I’m going to resign. I’m going to sell my house, and move back here.” My hand finds Kay’s on the table. “Kay and I are moving in together.”
“I knew you’d be renting that U-Haul.” Nina again. This time, my Dad slaps her around the head playfully.
“That is truly wonderful news.” Mom clasps a hand in front of her mouth. “I’m really happy for the both of you.” I still can’t get used to this sight, but my dad throws an arm around her shoulder and gives her frame a quick squeeze.
“We can do more processing while we eat,” Kay says, “before it gets cold.”
I’m not that hungry. Not out of nerves, but because of pure giddiness. I’m shacking up with Kay Brody. Although, technically, I moved in after Nina arrived. I’ll be living at West Waters. I’ll try to get a transfer to Oregon U, although chances of that are slim. If all else fails, I can teach biology at my old high school—or, perhaps, just run West Waters with Kay.
“You’re not getting any younger,” I told her. “You could use the extra pair of hands.”
“I know exactly where I can use an extra pair of hands,” she replied, before toppling me over on her bed and topping me again.
I think I decided that my time in Boston had ended a few days after my first night with Kay. No matter how many times I went over it in my head, the option of me leaving her behind for a long-distance-relationship and going back to my fractured life in Boston could only be perceived as a huge obstacle for my happiness. And happiness is what I’m all about now. Obtaining joy from simple things, like seeing Kay’s face first thing in the morning: simple, but oh so powerful. Like casting my gaze over the now ice-cold lake and daydreaming about jumping in naked with Kay when the temperature rises. Like lounging on the porch of our cabin with my sister, a fire crackling in the pit, and listening to her bohemian tales of being an extra on movie sets and—although I can’t conjure up images of this, no matter how hard I try—sheep herding, rolling my eyes every time she uses a curse word.
“Now you’ll have to give me father-in-law perks at The Attic, Kay,” Dad jokes.
“Sure, John,” Kay smirks good-naturedly. “Anything to keep you happy.” I look at my dad, and how he so easily interacts with Kay, and I know that if it hadn’t been for him—and for the sacrifices he made—this family would have fallen apart long ago.
I feel Mom’s eyes resting on me, a sensation that once made my skin crawl. I look up into her version of a smiling face. It’s more of a grimace that’s painted on her lips, as though, throughout the years, she has lost the power to smile altogether, but it’s a valiant effort.
“What?” I ask.
Before speaking, she pulls her lips into an even wider almost-smile. “I was just thinking about that time when you were ten years old and you put a pair of bunched up socks in your shorts, going around telling everyone you were a boy now.”
“Oh jeez,” I groan, “not that tired old story again.”
“Please elaborate, Dee.” Amusement glows in Kay’s voice.
“Please don’t.” I shoot Mom a smile nonetheless.
“Oh come on, Ellie.” Of course, Nina has to chime in. “You so wanted to be a boy back then.”
“I just thought it was unfair that boys got to pee standing up and that, a few years later, I had to wear a bikini top when coming to West Waters. That’s all.”
“You were already such a lez back then.” Nina shakes her head. “As if that Julia Roberts poster on your wall didn’t make that clear enough. I’m surprised you even had to come out at all.”
What the hell would you know? I want to ask. You weren’t here for any of that. But I ignore my initial instincts, because, I’ve mellowed toward Nina too. My new-found zen philosophy doesn’t work every day, but it helps to have Kay around. Just by being by my side, she reminds me that not everything is black and white.
“Life is not all or nothing,” she said once, after I’d come back from another emotional visit to my parents, “learn to navigate the in-between areas. There are highs and lows, but there’s so much more in between. Take me, for instance. Right now, I represent a massive high for you, but it won’t always be that way. Life will throw things at us and, instead of letting them drag you all the way down, together, we will make it through.”
“God, you’re cheesy,” I replied, before kissing her for a very long time.
“And you’ve become so mouthy. Must be all that hanging around with Nina.”
Having Nina around has helped. Just to sit next to someone who understands things about me without having to explain them, without talking—although Nina does plenty of that.
I look around the table, at the inconspicuous, relaxed faces of my family members, and it hits me that, at last, I have to try very hard to remember why I came back here in the first place. The lingering despair—that ever-present tightening in my chest—has made way for something else. Dr. Hakim would urge me to try to put it into words, but he’s not here, so I don’t need to try to articulate that simmering feeling of possibility, the gratitude for the long moments of peace and quiet in my mind I can now enjoy, the waking up without immense dread for a new day, the realization that life, after all, can be largely okay.
I love you. I don’t say it out loud—The Goodmans will never be a family of I-love-yous—but thinking it is more than enough.
* * *
“A sock, huh?” Kay asks while we’re getting ready for bed.
“Don’t you start.”
“I feel your pain, honey. Socks are so inadequate.” She sits on the edge of the bed and motions for me to perch next to her. “Come here.”
Kay never has to tell me twice, so I hurry to her side. Once I’m seated, she leans toward the bedside table and takes out a box.
“Going away gift,” she says, as she hands it to me.
“Oh.” I pull my lips into a pout. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
“You’re coming back, Ella. That’s the only present I’ll ever need.” She nods at the box. “Go on. Open it.”
I tear at the wrapping paper and unearth a plastic box with a see-through front. My eyes widen when my brain registers what’s inside: a quite sizable pink dildo, flanked by a black strap-on harness.
Amazed, I look at Kay. “What the hell am I going to do with that in Boston?”
“Read the card.” Her eyes have gone wildly dark again, like they do before we fuck. I find a white envelope taped to the back of the box. I open it and the front of the card shows a sad-faced cartoon figure with tears in its eyes, saying, “So sad you’re going away.”
My heart breaks a little at the sight of it, and I start dreading the moment Kay will drop me at the airport tomorrow—the moment we’ll have to say goodbye, at least for a
few months.
I open the card and read what she wrote: ‘I think I’ll go with you.’ A folded sheet of A4 paper is nestled inside the card and when I unfold it I see it’s a plane ticket to Boston with Kay’s name on it.
“For real?” Misty-eyed, I look at her.
“Of course.” She scoots closer. “I want to be with you when you walk back into your house. I don’t want you to do that alone.”
I’m so flabbergasted, it takes a few seconds for the meaning of her words to sink in.
“I love you,” I say. Out loud, this time.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Caroline, for always reading first, and being my rock.
Maria, for giving me a new set of lenses to see myself through (and being the sort of beta-reader any writer dreams of).
Cheyenne, for helping me shape all my emotions into relatable, grammatically correct sentences.
My sister, for the endless chuckles (even when I don’t feel like laughing).
My parents, for not needing me to say I’m sorry.
Thank you.
Dear Reader,
Even though At the Water’s Edge is fiction, writing this book has been a very emotional journey for me. I have literally cried my way through it, expelling many a demon in the process. It only took me fifteen years. I can’t thank you enough for reading this story that holds so much importance to me.
The subject matter of At the Water’s Edge is no joke and if reading it has affected you in any way and/or left you needing to talk, you can find information about suicide prevention centers across the world at this link: https://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres/
I won’t end this note with an empty phrase like ‘You are not alone’, but, if you’re looking for an example of someone who has made it through to the other end of depression—with lots of ups and downs—that person is addressing you right now. It’s not impossible.
