Kicking Eternity

by Ann Lee Miller

  He winked. “Put me on that list! Me wantum girl with strong arms. Do much work. Girl with cute feet okay, too.”

  Something warm shot through her, making her head pulse harder. Was he ever serious? She held her head in her hands. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  Drew sat down next to her. “I can make it better.”

  He leaned toward her. Was he going to kiss her? He smiled like he could read her mind and bent to pick up the first aid box at his feet. He smelled like sunshine.

  He opened the box and shook two ibuprofen tablets into her palm. “I came by to restock my first aid kit before dodge ball.”

  He ran water from the sink into a Dixie cup and handed it to her. “Where does it hurt?”

  “Everywhere.”

  He laid his hands on her head. “Lord, one of Your names is Physician. Would you take Rainey’s pain away—the pain in her head and the pain in her heart?”

  He rubbed her temples with his thumbs till her scalp felt warm and the pain faded a bit. His fingertips kneaded the muscles in the back of her neck. All the tension eased out of her body.

  She settled her head back against the wall. If she was still, it didn’t hurt. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  Drew tugged her hand. “Keep your eyes closed, you can lie on a cot till you feel better. I’ll tell the nurse you’re in here.”

  He led her into the next room, the pain resurrecting and banging around in her head with each movement. He guided her by the shoulders to the edge of the bunk. The wire webbing groaned when she sat down, and the metal frame felt cold on the backs of her legs. Drew’s hands pressed her down till her head rested in the haven of a pillow that smelled like Bounce. She curled her legs on the blanket under her and sighed.

  Pain hovered a millimeter from her skull, waiting for her to move. She could feel her flip-flops being slid off her feet and, a minute later, a feather-light blanket settling over her body. This is what it would feel like to be loved by Drew. Why did he have to tease about something as serious as marriage? What seemed like a long time later, Drew’s footsteps moved across the room.

  The key turned in the medicine cabinet in the next room. Her mind followed the click-click-click of a child-proof bottle being unscrewed, rustling plastic, the snap of the first aid box shutting. The last thing she remembered was the soft latch of the door as it closed.

  Chapter 20

  Aly plodded through the soft sand, limping slightly as she lugged her board under one arm. She hoped Cal wasn’t watching. Did God care about salvaging her dignity after Cal blew her off? Raine would say so, she was sure. She glanced over her shoulder.

  Cal paddled to catch a wave.

  He was in God’s hands now. Had she thought of God? Man, she was, like, channeling Raine. It wasn’t so much that she doubted God existed. Last count, she’d been to mass seven hundred and sixty eight times including weddings, funerals, and an odd Ash Wednesday service. But she’d long ago maxed out her sin allotment credit card.

  Maybe she could start making payments—quit sex. No time like the present. She was single. And the only guy to tempt her was Cal. And he was over her. Totally.

  #

  Drew stood beside Rainey where she lay on the infirmary cot. Her lips parted slightly, and she was probably asleep already. She trusted him—enough to relax under his touch. That knowledge knifed its way into his gut. Her trust was a gift.

  Touching Rainey was a stolen pleasure. No doubt, the headache was brought on by her concern for Cal. But at least he’d eased her pain and tension a little. There was a job he’d like for the rest of his life.

  God?

  Her dark hair spread across the pillow reminded him of the dream. And now he knew its silkiness, its flowery scent. The sleeve of her yellow blouse—the shirt from Cal’s portrait—peeked from under the flannel sheet. He turned away.

  #

  Raine woke slowly in the late afternoon sun spilling through the partially open window. The emptiness of the institutional beige room seemed to climb inside her. Drew’s touch lingered, but he must have left the infirmary hours ago. Birds twittered in the coconut palms. She could see the fronds dance without moving her head.

  She creaked into a sitting position. No pain.

  Thank You.

  Eddie’s text slithered back into her mind. She hated Eddie’s demands. He expected her to give him money whenever he asked. What was the alternative? Have Eddie cut off all relationship with her? Let whatever danger loomed over him, happen? She sighed with her whole body.

  At five-thirty she crouched behind a bush within sight of the camp sign. Her hurried dinner sat like a stone in her stomach. She had to try to talk Eddie into rehab.

  Please, God, let Eddie show by six. Drew expected her at campfire.

  She heard the scuff of tennis shoes against the sandy dirt before she saw Eddie. He bent down to tie his shoe and peered furtively at the underside of the sign. He yanked the envelope from its hiding place and buried it in his pocket in one motion. He stood and strode toward the road.

  “Wait! Eddie, it’s me.”

  His eyes scanned the woods behind her, and then jumped back to her.

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry—for last time I saw you.”

  “Did you give me the money?”

  She nodded. “I’m begging you. Think about Teen Challenge.”

  “I read the brochure.”

  “You did?”

  He almost smiled. “You’ve slipped me, what, ten of them by now?”

  “I’ve studied meth addiction. You can’t get off by yourself.”

  “I’m not wasting thirteen months of my life in that hole. I’m doing better. Really.”

  “If you keep using, you’re going to end up in jail. Doesn’t getting beat up or raped scare you?”

  “Look, I’m not some wussy teenager.”

  She stepped close to him on the sparse grass between the camp sign and the road. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I love you.”

  “You’re the only one.” He threw a bony arm over her shoulder and hugged her. “I love you, too.”

  She pulled away, her fingers still on his ribs, to look at his face.

  “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

  She searched his eyes. He obviously believed it. If only she could.

  #

  Raine spit toothpaste into the sink. Even though she didn’t know what she felt for Cal, she wondered what he thought about her. If Cal was so in love with her, why hadn’t he called since he got kicked out of camp?

  Aly stepped out of the shower tying the belt to her robe, her hair turbaned in a towel.

  “Have you heard from Cal since he left camp?”

  Aly stopped mid-stride.

  “You have, haven’t you?”

  Aly slumped down onto the wooden bench under the window. Her eyes darted to Raine’s in the mirror and away.

  She turned around to face Aly.

  Aly looked up at her. “I was so worried. You know, Cal’s not the most stable guy—”

  “You’re afraid he’s suicidal?”

  Aly shrugged. “Well, he’s not.” She looked down at her feet that were turned in, big toes touching. “I didn’t want to tell you I went looking for him because I didn’t want you to think I was going after him. I wasn’t. I swear I wasn’t. I had to make sure he was okay.”

  “And?”

  “And he was unpleasant—ticked at Jesse for firing him, ticked at me for hunting him down.”

  “Where?”

  “At his favorite surfing spot. Bethune Beach.”

  “Has he been suicidal before?”

  “No.” Aly rubbed her hair dry with the towel. “There’s something—I don’t know—brittle about Cal.”

  She screwed the lid onto the toothpaste. She hadn’t known Cal enough to be worried. Just mad.

  Aly looked at her with pleading eyes. “You and I, like, totally bonded. I would have told you, but I didn’t want to screw it up.” Her words cam
e out in a rush.

  She sat on the bench beside Aly. “It’s okay. The pot did a number on my crush. That’s how Eddie got started. I can’t— I can’t go there again.”

  “Then you’re not mad?”

  “If Cal loved me, don’t you think he would have called by now? It’s been a week since he got fired.”

  “Give him some time to sort through things.”

  She reached for Aly’s hand. “I know you love Cal. You told me the other night when you were high. It’s okay if you want to go after him.”

  “He—he loves you.”

  #

  Raine looked at the array of exquisitely wrapped gifts, the cakes and cookies that lined the bench on the dining hall porch. Each item was labeled, “Happy Birthday, Drew.” Why hadn’t Drew told her it was his birthday this morning on the beach?

  With the nail of her pinky, she lifted the flap of one label. “With love, from Celeste.” She pulled her finger away, feeling like a spy. The sticker on the chocolate chip cookies said they were from Roni, the chocolate cake from Kayla, the vanilla from Jasmine. There must have been a dozen gifts and sweets.

  Who were these women? What right did they have to shower Drew with gifts? He was her friend. Some emotion she couldn’t name churned under her ribcage.

  #

  As the sun sank toward the treetops, Raine jumped off the seawall and landed with both feet in the sand. Drew didn’t see her. His sandy head bent over the fire pit as he touched a match to the kindling.

  “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

  Drew looked up at her, his light blond brows arching toward the soft waves of his hair. “Didn’t think about it.”

  “I didn’t get you anything, but I want you to have this.” She pulled the bracelet she usually wore out of her pocket.

  Drew stood up, and all of a sudden they were face to face. Her breath caught. The memory of his lips on hers flooded into her mind. If she raised up a little on her toes—

  “I’ve never seen you without that bracelet. It must be special to you.”

  She tugged her gaze from his and laid her gift across his palm. “That’s why I want you to have it.” The blaze from the sunset and the fire reflected off the tiny, multicolored beads. “It was made by the kids at the orphanage where I’m going. You can use it for a bookmark in your Bible to remind you to pray for the orphans.”

  “And if I want to wear it?” He closed his fingers around the beads and turned his hand over, holding his fist out to her. He dropped the bracelet back into her hand.

  Her fingers fumbled against the skin on the inside of his wrist as she tied the string.

  “Guys don’t wear bows, Rainey.”

  She looked up at him. His face was inches from hers. She sucked in a breath. “But you won’t be able to get it off if I knot it.”

  “I don’t want to take it off.”

  What was going on here? She bent her head back over his wrist and knotted the leather. She stepped back.

  Drew grinned at her. “Thanks.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not much. At least you got a lot of other gifts—I bet it will take you a week to write the thank yous.”

  “Longer.”

  She scrunched her forehead. “Why?”

  “I’m not writing them.”

  “Why not?”

  “It will only encourage them. Call me chauvinist, but I don’t want to let one of those girls from church chase me down. I want to catch my own girl.”

  She took another step away from him. “I hope you don’t think—”

  “No, I don’t.”

  She turned away from him. “There’s Missy.” Anything to keep Drew from seeing the red spreading across her cheeks. Missy and her cabin of girls were still a block from the seawall.

  Drew caught her by the wrist. “Pray with me first.”

  “Sure.” She turned back toward him.

  Before she closed her eyes, she glimpsed her tiny beads on the large hand that covered hers.

  #

  Raine heard the catch in Drew’s voice, how he stopped in the middle of a sentence. The kids sitting around the campfire probably didn’t notice. What had disturbed him? She scanned the shore, tree line, faces around the campfire and saw nothing that could have thrown Drew off. Then, she looked up toward the road and saw a girl backlit by the setting sun. She leaned on a pick-up truck, arms folded, feet crossed at the ankles.

  Lord, help Drew focus. Let him say the words You want him to say.

  As the last of the children climbed onto the seawall, the girl walked toward them. Her honey-brown hair was cut bluntly at her shoulders. She wore a Daytona State College T-shirt and spandex athletic shorts that emphasized the toned muscles of her legs. She hiked through the sand toward them.

  “Hey, Drew. I got your e-mail. Thought I’d stop by when I was in town to visit Mother.”

  Drew looked at the girl for a long moment without smiling, so unlike him. She felt the tension crackle between Drew and the girl.

  Finally, his gaze left Sam, and he glanced at her. “This is my good friend, Rainey. Sam.”

  Raine sucked in a breath. The Sam.

  “Actually, I go by Samantha now.” The girl smiled at her, a smile she would have liked if it came from anyone else.

  “And I’ve always gone by Raine.” She smiled wryly at Drew. “Go ahead. I’ll wait for Jesse to get here.” The girl in Drew’s wallet was seventeen with only hints of the polished beauty she’d be at twenty-four. No wonder she hadn’t recognized Samantha. She needed to get a grip. This was good for Drew. He’d been in love with Samantha since he was eighteen.

  Drew put another log on the fire and looked back at her. “You’ll be okay here alone?”

  She looked up sharply. She knew what Drew was asking—whether Eddie was a threat. “I had a good talk with Eddie before campfire.” She shooed him away with her hands. “I can hear the kids coming up the road already.”

  Drew stood as though there was something else he wanted to say to her. But he turned and walked with Samantha toward the seawall. Samantha locked her truck and tossed her sneakers into the back. She watched them stroll toward the jetty in the rosy half light.

  He’d e-mailed Samantha, like she suggested. And Samantha must be interested or she wouldn’t have shown up.

  God, I…. She didn’t know what to pray.

  Of course an athletic girl would be better for Drew than— What was she thinking?

  A handful of boys batted an empty water bottle around. A girl’s high pitched laughter arced over the group. But she could only think about the pain digging into her side like she’d run too far and needed to grab hold of the muscle till the hurt subsided.

  #

  Drew hadn’t been prepared for the shock of seeing Sam again, or Samantha, as she kept reminding him. He had hoped for an e-mail, not a personal visit. And Sam wore the Daytona State College T-shirt he’d bought for her eighteenth birthday.

  “…managing a gym in Flagler,” she was saying. “I graduated, and stayed.”

  “I teach science at New Smyrna Beach High, thinking about moving to Africa to direct a children’s choir.” What made him say that? He hadn’t told anyone but Jesse what he was praying about.

  Sam stopped in the magenta light. “Wow.” She shook her head like she was trying to take it in. “Wow.” She started walking again.

  The surf churned at his feet like the conflicting emotions inside. He’d memorized everything about her. Now the lens seemed out of focus. Her leggy coltishness had matured into sleek confidence. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and see if she tasted the same—like cotton candy and fresh peppermint.

  Part of him saw her as a stranger. But then, something would remind him of the Sam he knew—the way she shrugged one shoulder, the tiny chip between her bottom teeth.

  “Do you still hide from the sun? Like to eat hot and cold foods together? Collect change in the bottom of your purse till it weighs five pounds?”


  “Yes!” She laughed her full, throaty laugh. “And do you still get up at the crack of dawn? Do you like ham and pineapple pizza? Wear flip-flops in the winter?”

  “All but the flip-flops.”

  Quiet settled over them. In his gut, he could feel the knot of bitterness flesh had grown over. Seeing her lanced it open. This might be the only opportunity he had to ask the question that had tortured him all these years. “Why did you leave me, Sam? I thought… I thought if you hadn’t transferred to Flagler, we might have gotten back together.” His voice sounded hoarse in his ears.

  “I was afraid I’d go back to you if I didn’t move away.”

  He could feel the pus oozing out—dirty white like foam on the water. “And would that have been so awful?” His breath stopped.

  “No.” Her voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

  The froth dissipated, picking up the fuchsia and lavender of the sunset.

  “I knew I wasn’t mature enough to give you what you needed. Commitment.”

  She raked fingers through her straight hair, leaving it mussed, reminding him of how she used to be. Did the hair at the nape of her neck still curl in tiny ringlets?

  “Daytona State is a small school. We would run into each other like we did all second semester—for the rest of college.” She stopped and turned toward him. “Every time I saw you, there was agony in your eyes…”

  His lips flattened. “A mercy transfer.”

  “You haven’t lost your dry wit.” Sam looked out to sea. “By the time I felt like committing, there was no one worth committing to.”

  Something tried to take flight in his chest like a pelican with tar on its wings. They were at the jetty now. Drew folded his arms and leaned against a slab of rock facing her. “Why are you here, Sam?”

  “Samantha.” She shrugged one shoulder the way he’d always found so endearing. She looked at her sand-caked toes, and back at his eyes. “Why did you e-mail?”