rock

by Anyta Sunday

  The music snatches my breath, all the way from the kitchen where I sit with Annie, staring into my empty cup.

  Annie lifts the teapot to pour me some more when the familiar sound of the door opening stops her. We edge out to the arched doorway, pausing there as Dad steps inside with Lila. They are both smiling today.

  “Jace!” Dad yells, and the music stops abruptly. Seconds later, the stairs are groaning under his impatient gait.

  Lila beckons us nearer and we flock to her.

  “Things are looking good for surgery soon,” Dad says, and kisses Lila’s cheek with a smack. “We’re positive about the progress. So are the doctors.”

  Jace steals closer and wraps his mum into a hug. Annie and I join in until we are one big lump of warm wishes. Jace twists his head and captures my gaze; the tension he’s held over the last months is still there, but a hopeful smile brackets one side of his lips.

  “I made some tea,” Annie says as we break apart.

  “That would be lovely.” Lila and Dad follow her to the dining room.

  “Cooper and I are going out for an hour,” Jace calls to them. “Do you need anything?”

  They don’t.

  Jace quietly gestures to follow him to the hatchback. Ten minutes later, we are strolling on the beach, enjoying the cool sand, beautiful seashells, crashing waves, shrieking seagulls, and the distant scent of fish and chips. Shells poke into my soles, assaulting me with sharp pangs that remind me I am not dreaming.

  Jace picks up a beautiful paua shell. It shines as though the seas have been polishing it for decades, and the inside swirls with dazzling greens and blues.

  “These are my favorite shells,” he says.

  He passes it to me and I take it.

  “What’s your favorite stone, Cooper?”

  I laugh. “That’s like a parent choosing a favorite kid or something.”

  “But what do you consider special? Diamond, maybe?”

  “Diamond is the strongest, and I do like it. It’s pretty much a stone of optimism. No matter how you turn it, the light is always there.”

  The shoes dangling from Jace’s shoulder start to slip, but I catch them before they hit the sand. “However,” I whisper, setting his shoes back on his firm shoulders, “my favorite stone is opal.”

  Found in Australia where an enormous inland ocean used to be, opal is literally like touching a prehistoric ocean. As the ocean dried out, water seeped into the earth’s cracks weathering sandstone and making a silica-rich environment for my favorite stone to form.

  “I know it’s an Aussie stone,” I say, grinning, “but don’t hate me. I really like them.”

  Jace scowls. “Traitor.”

  “And greenstones,” I add hurriedly before I’m revoked of my Kiwi status. “Of course.”

  He laughs and strokes his hook. “Next you’ll be telling me your favorite animal is the Koala.”

  “Well . . .”

  He shakes his head.

  We continue the length of the beach. At the end, we dip out toes into the water. “Thanks,” he says over a crashing wave. “For the walk. It helps. You help.”

  “Anytime.”

  conglomerate

  ‘Anytime’ comes a couple of weeks later. The night before Lila’s surgery.

  Jace sneaks into my room. “Cooper?”

  I’m not asleep. My nerves and hopes won’t allow me to shut my eyes. “Yeah?”

  He grabs my foot through the bedspread. “I can’t sleep.”

  I know. He’s been playing a nervous piece on the piano for the last hour. It was originally jubilant and hopeful, but then it delved into something dark and desperate that made me cover my ears with a pillow.

  “Come see the glowworms with me?”

  It’s the middle of winter, and a cold wind is howling through the gutters.

  I peel back the bedspread anyway. Five minutes later, I’m fully dressed and slipping through the fringes of the bush with Jace.

  Icy wind ruffles our hair as we trudge to the cave. The glowworms have left for the season, but our special spot remains tranquil. I leave my worries at the entrance and allow myself to breathe.

  “I’m scared,” Jace says. He’s standing at the wall.

  I slide up behind him and slip my arms around his waist, my forehead pressed to his neck. “She has good doctors, she’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

  My head bobs in unison with his nod.

  “It’s not just about Mum,” he says, so quietly that I barely hear him.

  “What else?”

  “Me. Susan.”

  I grit my teeth.

  He continues, “I slept with her for the first time last weekend.”

  I want to move away, but Jace is tracing something over the back of my hand. “It was after Mum told us things were looking good. I felt so hopeful. So full of energy. She kissed me and I had this need to be close, you know?”

  “Right.” I pull away, but Jace snatches my hand, holding me in place.

  “No, that’s the thing. It didn’t feel right. I felt—nothing. Nothing.”

  I release my breath slowly. “Why does that scare you?”

  Soft pitter-patters of rain turn into a pelting torrent.

  “Because it makes everything dark.”

  “Jace, you wouldn’t ever hurt yourself—”

  “No. That’s not it. I got this mail, Cooper, and I haven’t opened it because I don’t want things to change, but things will change and—” He turns around. “It’ll snuff out the last of the light.”

  He scrubs his face.

  “God, I wish I’d never slept with her. Wish Mum wasn’t sick. Wish I wasn’t so afraid all the time. Wish I was strong like you. You don’t care what anyone thinks and you stand up for who you are. I need to do that too. But I can’t. Fuck, I sound so stupid right now. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I haven’t slept in forever, and . . . I don’t know.”

  I lift his chin. Hundreds of comforting words dance on the tip of my tongue, but instead of speaking any of them, I whisper, “I love you.”

  The rain crashes hard on the foliage and splashes into the creek. My breath fogs into the cold night air. “More than a friend, Jace,” I continue. “I am totally in love with you.”

  * * *

  The blaze in Jace’s eye tells me he’s shocked, but the small twitch of his lip indicates he’s not entirely surprised.

  He blinks and lets out a slow breath that mingles with mine. I’m still replaying the moment in my mind and trying to understand why I said it. It was the truth—is the truth—but it’s the worst-timed declaration of love in all of history.

  You don’t tell a man you love him when he’s in the middle of a family crisis. When his mum is hours away from surgery and he’s emotionally frail. You don’t show him a fragile emotion that you’ve cultivated and protected for years when he hasn’t slept properly in months.

  I don’t care. Exhilaration burns through my veins. I’ve said the truth, and the secret anchor in my chest has lifted. I’m not taking any of it back.

  I want to kiss you, Jace. I want to make love to you and hold you forever.

  I swallow, daring to hold his gaze. Is he scrambling to make sense of this? Is he figuring out how to gently let me down?

  I stand there forever, waiting. The rain splashes into the entrance, and a few drops land on my boot. Jace rests his head against the wall and shuts his eyes. “Coop,” he finally says exhaustedly.

  I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I never want to know he doesn’t feel the same.

  I draw back but he grabs my hands. “Cooper, it’s complicated.”

  Of all the things I expect him to say—I don’t see you that way, I love you too, you’re just a stepbrother to me, I love you as a friend—this is not one of them. “Complicated?”

  A long stretch of silence passes. He starts to speak but stops. Twice. Then he manages to say, “You’re my closest friend. I need that right now.”

 
I nod. My mouth is dry and I’m shaking. I nod again and duck out of there. Rain hits my face and drizzles down my neck and under my jacket. At the edge of the creek, I find a speckled stone covered in wet moss. Conglomerate, maybe. I pocket it and let out a shuddering breath.

  He needs me as a friend.

  His mum is having surgery tomorrow.

  I sniff, nod, then turn back to Jace and take him home.

  laminae

  I crawl into Annie’s bed. She wraps her arms around me, no questions asked. Does she think I’m worried about Lila’s surgery, or does she know it’s more than that? How much does Annie know?

  I grip my moss-covered stone and cry. She steers my head to her shoulder and pats my back. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”

  Her shirt is wet with my tears. She passes me a tissue but I quickly have to grasp for another. When I’m finally spent of energy, I lie down on the pillow. “Sorry, Annie.”

  She rolls over and kisses my cheek. “Is there something more going on, Coop? I’m afraid for Lila too but it was Jace’s name you kept saying.”

  I’m thankful for the dark, for the shadows that will hide the truth. “I feel for him,” I say. “He only has his mum.”

  “Dad too.”

  “I mean real relatives.”

  “He has you and me, even if he does have poor taste in tea. But I’m used to that with you, so—”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “It doesn’t matter that we don’t share the same blood. We have two homes, and this is one of them. Jace will always be family now.”

  I curl onto my side. Annie’s hair glows dimly despite the dark. “How’d you go from hating them to loving them so quickly?”

  “I didn’t say I love them.”

  But she’s blinking back tears, and I know she cares.

  “This is just the way it is. No one said you can choose your family, right?”

  Suddenly it’s nine months ago, and Jace and I are in the cave: I would have chosen you. That was the moment I realized my love stretched beyond friendship. The moment that eventually led to tonight: I am totally in love with you.

  “I would have chosen them,” I say. A pregnant pause, then a smile. “You’re right. We are forever now.”

  “Even when things change,” Annie agrees.

  Change. The word rings like a church bell on a Sunday morning, trying to stir my soul and snatch it.

  Change is coming. Hell, it could be coming tomorrow. If not tomorrow then it will come in five months when Annie and Jace break away from the nest and fly on their own.

  Of course, it’s to be expected. Time and the pressures of life make it necessary. Like basalt to granulite, mudstone to slate, limestone to marble, kid Jace will turn into adult Jace.

  Kid me will turn into adult me.

  “Do you know where you’ll go to university?”

  She puffs up her pillow. “I think I want to study psychology and go to Victoria University. Vic has a great program.”

  My broad smile cracks the dried tears on my face. “You’ll be staying in Wellington?”

  “Yeah. I want to try flatting though.”

  “Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” Please don’t leave me alone!

  “But I’ll come for dinner sometimes. You can hang wherever I’m living too.”

  “Okay.” It’s not okay, really. But it’s all I have.

  Will Jace offer the same thing? Or did I ruin it with my declaration?

  I place the stone on the corner of the pillow between us. “I wish things didn’t have to change.”

  travertine

  Lila’s operation to remove the tumor was a success, and a dark cloud has lifted from our house. Rays of sunlight stream through the windows.

  Dad and Jace embrace in the foyer over Lila’s hospital bag. Annie and I huddle in like we’re rugby players. Like Jace, Dad looks ragged. He’s barely slept the last months, and healthy eating hasn’t been his biggest priority, no matter how much Annie and I nag him to stay fit.

  “Thank you,” Dad says. “Thank you for all being there. For showing us what a strong family we can be. I love you. I love you all very much.”

  We huddle amongst his words and love, then slowly break apart. Dad and Annie move to the kitchen for tea while I sneak upstairs to peek through Dad’s bedroom door. Lila is curled up on the bed holding a framed photo.

  Jace glides to his piano and plays bright, cheerful music.

  Lila shuts her eyes and breathes it in. She smiles.

  The light is back.

  ironstone

  The days fly by with school and the routine of home life.

  The nights, however, are long.

  Too much time to think, to hope, to despair. The women I love are shining brighter than ever. Lila, with new strength and spirit; Mum, with passion and adventure; Annie, with bright confidence and maturity. They seem older, wiser, happier.

  But I’m not happier. I wonder if Jace has forgotten our last moment together. He’s never brought it up, and he hasn’t changed his behavior. He still steals me away and drives us to the beach to pig out on ice cream. He still laughs at my Bert and Ernie misadventures. He still finds rocks and stones for me. He still wraps an arm around my neck as we walk barefoot in ocean tides.

  Twice, he’s even crawled into my bed when he couldn’t sleep.

  But not a single word about that night.

  I ponder Jace’s silence as I line a fake coffin with red velvet in preparation for Dad’s Halloween birthday.

  Jace is supposed to be showing Annie the best keys on the piano for a haunted house tune, but he’s playing Rocky Horror Picture Show’s Time Warp instead.

  “Madness takes its toll,” he sings, his low pitch prickling my skin.

  Annie joins in but the music stops when Dad clears his throat.

  Lila slips her hand into Dad’s, barely containing her smile.

  “We have some news.”

  Jace clutches the edge of his piano stool so hard his knuckles go white.

  “Good news,” Lila says and bites her lip. “Doctors say I’m good.”

  Jace leaps off his chair. “You’re good?” He hugs her before I can comprehend what she’s said. Tears rim her eyes, and that smile finally breaks loose. “I’m good!”

  Later in the evening, after the festivities, I find Jace in his room clutching an unopened brown envelope.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing. Just something for university.”

  He hides it in his desk drawer.

  I sit on the edge of his desk.

  “Where are you going for university?” I ask. We’ve avoided the topic for months, but now that Jace has graduated, we can’t hide from it any longer.

  I hold still.

  “I . . .” He looks down at the rip in my jeans. “In some ways I want to stay in Wellington and go to Vic.”

  “In some ways?” His words make me shiver.

  He closes his eyes. “But I applied to Otago last week and got accepted.”

  I cannot make a coherent thought. “Dunedin?”

  He nods.

  “Your mum and dad know?”

  “I told them to keep it quiet.” He opens his eyes. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

  “So it’s six weeks and goodbye?”

  “We can talk on the phone. I’ll be back for winter holidays and Christmas.”

  Only twice a year?

  I exhale slowly. My belly feels hollow, and I want to throw up.

  I leave his room and hurry outside. The path jars my every step thanks to the thin sandals I shoved on. Jace shouts from our balcony. I want to ignore him but I traipse over the moat toward him, cutting an angle to the side of the house. “I’m sorry,” he says, leaning over the rail.

  I shrug. I need to get out of here. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, can I borrow your car?”

  Jace leaves and returns with his keys, which he stuffs into an envelope and seals with a swipe of his tongue before handing to me.r />
  I don’t open it until I’m at his car. Leaning against the roof, I pull out his keys, and then the note.

  Forgive me.

  I’ll miss you. Stay strong.

  Sorry it’s not an opal.

  I tip the envelope upside down, and a small stone tinkers onto the top of the car. Not much bigger than my thumbnail, a teardrop of matted red and black ironstone.

  I clutch it tightly before carefully sealing it into the envelope and slipping it into my pocket. I hop into the hatchback, and drive.

  And drive.

  And drive.

  garnet

  Dad and Lila left for a long weekend getaway to a beautiful beach in Brisbane. After the year they’ve had, they deserve the break.

  I convinced Annie to stay at Mum’s for the four days. Quality time, I said, to do girly nights and female fraternizing.

  The truth is, Jace and I want the weekend alone.

  Time is winding down. After this weekend, we only get one week to live together. We’re on the precipice of change, and we want to spend the last moments together, pretending we’re not going to fall.

  We get up early to hike the town.

  On the last stretch to Oriental Bay, I find a flawed fragment of garnet and run its sharp side along the pad of my thumb.

  “Let’s have a look,” Jace says, stealing it from me and holding the red stone up toward the light. “Fool’s ruby?”

  “Garnet.”

  He throws it toward the paua-blue sky that is streaked with long, wispy clouds, and it tumbles back down to him like a bloody raindrop. “And?” he says, catching it, a stupid little grin quirking his lip. “Surely you know more than that?”

  I knock into his side as he throws it up again. I miraculously catch it as Jace stumbles, spraying sand in arcs toward the frothy tide.

  “It’s a stone of truth,” I say to my fallen friend, extending an arm. He’s laughing as he takes it.

  “Really?”