by Ash, Lauren
Kip repeated the phrase, the wind catching at her small voice and whipping the words away as she ran ahead, her arms outstretched.
The weather had improved, although it was still mostly cloudy and very cold. Jenny pulled her hood back up and stopped to watch Kip and Ron greet the ocean. She didn’t want to venture closer; she knew what was in it. Instead, she shook the red plaid blanket out on the sand, lay back, and sucked in the fresh air.
After a while, her nerves settled. All the fire went out of her; all that remained was a little smoke. “Ah…” She breathed that out too, releasing any angst.
Time passed. Jenny felt cozy there on the blanket, and a little sleepy, but, not wanting to nod off, she made herself wake up. The camera hadn’t been used in ages. She switched it on, browsing the last photos, which had not yet been downloaded, and added some shots of the grey distance. Standing, she zoomed in on Ron and Kip, knee deep in waves.
“Did you catch it?”
Jenny lowered the camera. “Excuse me?”
“Did you catch it?” An older couple, dressed in raincoats, stood before her and pointed to the ocean. “The whale.”
“What?”
“It’s out there; you can see it spouting up water. We think we saw its tail, but the water is so dark it’s hard to tell.”
“Oh right, yeah…” Jenny nodded, her anxiety rising again.
The couple stared at her a minute, bemused, and then nodded and continued on their way.
Jenny closed her eyes, blinking back the fear that crept over her like the sand invading her blanket. She just as quickly groaned and opened her eyes again, not wanting to see it there in her mind’s eye: that black body, those razor-sharp teeth. Gazing out at the ocean, she saw a huge black shape surface. Just as quickly, it was gone.
TWO
“This is so good.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Jenny leaned back in her chair, enjoying the moment. “I could do this every day: warm butter, lobster, ah.”
“What is it with this creature?” Ron put a juicy forkful of sweet lobster meat into his mouth, savored it, swallowed and then delicately dug for another. “I mean, why on Earth did people think they could ever eat this? Look at its claws and antennae? They look like mini-monsters—devil’s spawn. I guess it explains why this used to be food for the poor. Did you know it was used as fertilizer in some places?”
Jenny sat up. “I’m eating fertilizer?” she deadpanned.
“Yes.”
“Over-priced plant food! Thanks for ruining the moment.” Jenny put her fork down and fixed Ron with an exaggerated frown.
Ron took an even bigger bite. “Who knows what might be popular in ten, twenty, thirty years—dachshund?”
“Now, stop.” Jenny pointed her fork at her husband, and he pointed his back, laughing.
Kip, in the highchair next to her, giggled and went back to drowning her fries in a pool of ketchup.
“Would you care for another glass of wine, sir?” The waiter stood between them. Disregarding the fork-duel, he gestured to the two half-full wineglasses on the white-clothed table.
“Yes, yes. Same as before.”
“And you, ma’am?”
“Umm.”
“Oh, honey, come on! Have a glass of wine. Enjoy yourself—we’re on vacation.”
“Umm … well … okay.”
“Good, two glasses. She’ll have what I’m having, it complements the crustacean.”
Jenny sighed absentmindedly, thinking she’d have to pretend to sip it slowly.
“What?” Ron asked.
She composed herself. “Nothing.”
“Come on, I can tell something is on your mind. Out with it.”
“I have something to tell you.”
“I knew it. I knew it! You’ve been too quiet today.”
“I went to the doctor…”
Ron’s cell phone vibrated. Jenny could hear it buzzing against the chair. She paused, then said, “Go ahead, you can answer.”
“No. We’re at dinner. I don’t want to interrupt our first date out here.”
The phone kept trilling, demanding attention.
“God…” Ron opened it up. “It’ll be quick. I’ll be right back. I promise, honey. Promise.” Ron fumbled in his jacket pocket until he found the fancy electronic nuisance. “Hello?” he said, as he hurried away from the half-empty dining room and his beautifully dressed wife.
“Wine, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” She muttered under her breath, “I can’t believe he took the call.”
“Excuse me, ma’am?” The young, dark-haired waiter tried not to seem interested, but his eyes frankly assessed the attractive, petite woman in striking blue before him. She looked too good to ignore.
Jenny glanced up at him, thinking he looked as if he were genuinely sorry for her, which actually made her feel slightly better. She smirked slightly.
“Can I get you anything, ma’am?” He paused a little too long, but waited patiently.
“Yes. A dessert menu—that’ll do it.” She turned to Kip. “You want something sweet? I need something sweet,” then, under her breath, “with a hint of bitterness.”
“We only have sweet, I’m afraid,” said the waiter, who must have heard her.
“Fine, anything.”
Jenny stared at the swollen girth of the wineglass before her, the light streaming through the clear, yellow liquid. She ran her finger along the edge, sensing the slight imperfection along its lip. Then she knocked it over. It splashed a topaz streak across the table and wine dripped down onto the tiled floor.
“Oops.”
No one had even noticed.
The drive back to the beach house was silent. Ron was too distracted by the phone call; Jenny too relieved that his forgetfulness had prevented her from telling him her news. Kip was asleep in the back. She watched the sun dip down into the sky, sinking in oranges and pinks.
“Do you want to see the jetty? I love the jetty.” Ron pressed his foot harder on the accelerator.
“Now? But it’s windy and cold. What about Kip?”
“You can wear my coat. You’ll be toasty warm. I’ll be by your side and the sun is setting. And Kip will be fine in the car; she’s asleep anyway and we won’t go out of sight. I don’t want to miss a beach sunset.”
Jenny felt a twinge of fear. “As long as it doesn’t get dark.”
Closing the car, they hurried to a pile of gargantuan black rocks that stuck out into the water. Ron kicked off his shoes and socks, and Jenny bent down to ease off her heels.
“Look at it.” Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her to the ocean’s edge. She glanced the sun, and then back at the car. It was still; no one was around. She turned to the horizon again. The sun had almost hit the ocean, its colors intensifying, refracted through the clouds. They stood there, speechless, watching the ball of light vanish into the unknown.
“Do you want to climb up on the jetty?” Ron asked.
“I don’t think I can get out of it, can I?”
“Nope.”
He helped her up, onto the nearest behemoth rock, carefully climbing behind her and trying not to slip on the slick surface. Ocean spray surrounded them, its icy drops enlivening them.
“I’m soaked now. My dress!” Jenny complained, smoothing down the deep blue fabric. She peered towards the car again—still the same.
“Your dress is blue—what are you worried about? No one’s here but us.” Ron took a step towards her, lowered his head. “Live a little. You’re so worked up tonight.”
“I can’t help it. You took that work call at dinner.”
“I had to take it.”
“You always have to take it.” Losing her balance, she fell forward, into the arms of the man who loved her, who had always loved her.
“I’m sorry.”
She felt his heart pounding against hers as he held her there, on the brink.
* * *
“May I sit
?”
“No.” Jenny shook her head but did not look up.
“You know, you can take a break. This is college. You’re supposed to have fun every once in a blue moon.”
The young man before her looked baby-faced, much younger than the men who usually flocked around her.
He held out one hand and pulled out a chair with the other. “Hi, I’m Ron.”
“Ron, I’m busy. And you don’t look like you belong here.”
“I don’t?”
“No.” She returned her attention to her studies.
“But … soon I will.”
Jenny couldn’t help but laugh. “I knew it. I just knew it.”
“What?” Ron’s voice deepened a little and he hooked his thumbs in his jean loops.
“You’re still in high school.”
“So.” He sat, stretching his legs out casually before him.
“I’m way older. Not your kettle of fish.”
“I like fishing.”
Jenny giggled.
Buoyed by the positive response, he kept going. “Can I have your number?”
“You’re what? Eighteen, at the most?”
“And counting.”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“So, that’s a yes.”
“Um, see, I’m twenty-one, and I have just one year left. We’re too far apart. You’ll be a freshman next year. You’ll get caught up with all those cutesy little virginal girls, all bright-eyed, all looking for trouble.” She snapped the textbook shut on the table. “I’ll be busy trying to get the hell out of here, because if I have to write one more paper, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand myself.”
Ron took a step back.
“Okay, okay.” She sighed. Picking up a pen, she tore a scrap of paper from a foolscap ring binder and scrawled on it. “You’re cute. Here’s my number. At least you’re legal.”
“Thank you!” Ron took it happily and folded it neatly into his pocket. “You won’t be disappointed.” He walked away, triumphant.
Jenny opened the textbook again and tried to refocus but the words all blurred together on the page. She shook her head. “Boys!”
* * *
The indoor hot tub was very hot. Jenny sat on the edge, naked, her body illuminated by the pale light of a single white candle. She wondered how to tell Ron that she wasn’t allowed in the hot tub. Maybe I should just tell him now. Ron had disappeared to bring wine and snacks.
Steam billowed up from the tub, covering the glass doors that faced the ocean. They were open just a crack; the sea air was so crisp she didn’t want it to seep in, but she still wanted to hear the rhythmic waves. She stood and made her way to the light switch, dimming the lights, and then moved to the French doors to gaze down at the empty beach. It was beautiful. Isolated. Down on the dune, a sudden movement rippled the long grass near a sullen, lone rock. Was that a rock? It resembled someone crouching. She shivered and pulled the doors shut as faint footsteps sounded on the stairs.
“What did you do about that door?”
“How’d you know I was there?” Ron said, sounding disappointed.
“I heard you sneak up the stairs, and I expected it.” Jenny leaned over into the tub and wet her hands, wiping the warm water up her arms, torso and neck. “I don’t feel right, leaving Kip down there. Not with the door wide open.”
“It’s fine.” Ron couldn’t help but watch the curves of her slim body as she leaned over. “I nailed it up. Found a hammer in the garage. It’ll hold until we get the locksmith out. Wine and cheese?” He set a bottle and platter down on the nearby vanity.
Jenny flashed him an inviting smile. “Sounds good. I’m starved.”
“Even after our big dinner?”
She nodded.
“Hop in,” Ron said.
“Not just yet. It’s too hot. I’ll just sit here a minute.”
“Open the doors then.” Ron threw them wide open and then joined her. They watched each other, both enjoying a bite of Camembert and cracker.
So perfectly fit in every way. Jenny admired her husband’s body as he sat on the side of the tub. All that working out, she thought.
Noticing her gaze, Ron slid into the bubbling water.
“Blue wineglasses. Blue everything.” She gestured to the glass of red wine, now a deep purple, which she had set down on the edge of the tub.
“Nana’s favorite color. She’s a big water person.”
Jenny laughed. “I can tell, and she likes fishermen.”
“Fishermen?”
“Yes, by the front door—that quote.”
“I don’t know what that’s from. It wasn’t there when I lived here.” Ron took a swig of wine, following it up with a bite of extra-mature cheddar.
“What did your grandfather do?” Jenny dangled her legs in the tub beside him.
“He was a cattleman. They had a ranch down south, but it wasn’t doing well. He consolidated and they came up here in the early sixties, when Rocky Shores started up. Ironically, the land here before was a cattle ranch. It was a compromise to come to the ocean. He preferred the open fields, in with the dirt, on his horse, but my Nana had only been to the ocean once. She fell in love with it. It captured her heart. Apparently they bickered for a good many years about coming out here.”
“And she won.”
“Yes, she won. Seems to me she had a big say.”
“Maybe she had a secret romance with a fisherman.”
“No! She wasn’t like that. She was proper, strict at times, had me doing chores for even looking at her the wrong way.” Ron tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back into the heat and the bubbles. “Do you want to meet her?”
Jenny frowned. “You mean she’s here. Now?”
“Yes, but not now ... tomorrow. Her retirement home is in town. Busy Bee Meadows—something like that.”
“Cute name, although they’re not really busy bees, are they?”
Ron chuckled. “No. But we could be.” Jumping up, wet and all, he scooped Jenny up in his arms and carried her over to the mahogany-framed bed.
“Ron!” she squealed.
* * *
“That was … exactly what I needed.”
They lay entwined, sprawled on the wet sheets.
“But look at the mess we’ve made.” Jenny splayed out one hand, rubbing it across the sheet, feeling the warm damp beneath her. “I’ll have to wash all this tomorrow.”
“Who cares! It’s all ours, or it will be soon. Everything in here will come with the purchase.” Ron stood and flung open the French doors to let the freezing, salty air blow in. “Hurry, back in the tub.”
“Christ!” Jenny stumbled back to the tub, dangling her legs back in. “You’re nuts.”
“It’s great. I love the extremes.” Ron downed the rest of his wine. “Do you want yours?” He touched her glass.
“No, I’m fine. Not in the mood for it. But I do want some of that chocolate.”
At the push of a button, the jets fired up. “As I said before, I want one of these in our bedroom,” Jenny said.
Ron nodded, feeling the wine and wondering why she didn’t get in. Then, with a yawn, he stretched out to fill up the space, the jets warm against his back. “As soon as we get back, I’ll build you one. It’ll be huge, massive. We can invite the neighbors over.”
“Ha! No way. Just us. You and me.”
From outside, Charlie let out a whimper.
“Okay, you too, Charlie. Are you cold?” Jenny squinted at the small black dog, shivering away in the corner. “Oh, look at him.”
Standing and wrapping herself in a towel, Jenny then searched the room. “Here’s a blanket.” She pulled a crocheted blue-and-white rug from a rocking chair that faced the ocean and tucked it around the dog. “There you are, you poor little sausage dog, you. Can we close the doors?”
Ron swirled the wine in his glass and looked up at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Uh-huh.”
Jenny returned to the hot tub and
rested her hand on his strong shoulder. “Do you want to go to bed?”
He didn’t answer.
She nudged him.
“Yes…”
“Where? The bed is wet.”
“The lookout has a fold-out bed.” Ron pointed up, towards the ceiling. That’s where I’d sleep as a kid. The hex room.”
“Hex room?”
“That’s its nickname—for the shape, not because it has a hex on it.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that.” Jenny helped him out of the tub and, arm in arm, they made their way upstairs.
* * *
The sun came out, finally rearing its head at the most inconvenient time.
“Ugh.” Ron pulled the scratchy woolen blanket over his head. “I have a headache.”
“What?” Jenny rose from the rocking chair and snuck under the covers with him, enjoying the sudden heat.
He grumbled something.
“I can’t understand you from under there.”
Ron pulled the blanket back down regretfully, peeping over the top. “My head hurts. I have a headache.” He retreated back into hiding.
“I’ll go get you something. Don’t worry.”
“Mamma.” A small voice drifted up from below.
Jenny jumped to the call, padding downstairs, leaving her sorry husband behind to wallow.
“Oh my girl, look at you and your rosy little cheeks.” Kip rolled around in her bed, looking as adorable as she always did, with the exception of occasional temper tantrums.
“Do you want some cereal?”
Kip sat up suddenly, clapped playfully. “Ya.”
“Okay, let’s go. Daddy has a sore head; we have to get him water too. First, I need my robe, though.”
After a long search through her stuffed suitcase, which was still propped against the couch in the living room, Jenny found the robe and returned to the kitchen.
Kip was waiting patiently at the table for her bowl of Surprise. “Hungry, Mamma. Hungry.” Kip hit the table with a plastic spoon.
“I know, I know. I’m a-hurrying. Here.” She poured some golden flakes into a plastic bowl she’d retrieved from a cupboard.
“Sugar! Sugar!”
