Heart Echoes

by Sally John

  She rolled her eyes. “Hey.”

  “How goes it, Warrior Princess?”

  “I want to come home.”

  He chuckled.

  “Go ahead and say ‘I told you so.’”

  “Never. What’s up?”

  While he ate, she described the ordeal of the trip, ending with “She’s withdrawn. I’m snippy. This is not working.”

  “Hm.” He swallowed. “Well, the good news is she doesn’t see your Oregon adventure as a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

  “Hardly. But a major reason we left was so that I didn’t have to keep playing the prison guard.”

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You’re not what? Being snippy because her behavior is not what you want it to be?”

  Teal opened her mouth to deny his accusation and then closed it. He had simply reworded her own description and he had done so in his typically gentle way.

  He said, “Guards get snippy when their charges don’t toe the line. They’re not called to be mommies. Speaking of which, your mommy talk the other night got me to thinking about my mom. You know how she was this top-notch, no-nonsense English lit professor. She had a prison-guard side to her and it showed up at home often.”

  Teal’s defensiveness melted. She traced the steering wheel with her finger and blinked rapidly until her sight cleared. How like River to turn the subject from her own inadequacy as a mommy to a story about his mother. She loved him for it. The fact that he loved her pathetic self still astounded her.

  “But,” River went on, “every so often, throughout my life, Mom would say, ‘For goodness’ sake, River, you are not one of my students. Let’s play.’ And we would play at whatever. A board game, shooting hoops, going to a movie. She’d do it with my sister, too. Sometimes the three of us together.”

  Teal wished she had known Liz Adams. If even half the stories about her were partially true, she would have made for a great mother-in-law.

  River said, “The last time it happened I was twenty-two. It was before she got sick. I’d bailed out on college. Again. We played Scrabble, she beat me mercilessly, and then we went out for hot fudge sundaes.”

  Teal found her voice, a quiet, low version of the usual one. “You’re saying I should play with Maiya.”

  “Yep. And I will too. I’ll text her on your phone right now. We’ll—”

  “She’s lost phone privileges.”

  “Teal.” His tone would have stopped a killer in his tracks.

  “We agreed that—”

  “Just lighten up. I gotta go. Call me later.”

  She held the phone until a new text message beeped its arrival.

  The passenger door opened and Maiya slid inside. “Icky, skigusting bathroom.”

  Teal smiled at the Maiya-ism, a phrase she coined when she was three, trying to pronounce disgusting.

  Teal stared at her daughter’s profile, a portrait of three in one. There was the little girl in the rounded cheeks, the hormonal teenager in the too-large silver hoops hanging from her earlobes, and the young woman in the chin tilted as if to forge a way through a complicated world.

  Maiya turned to her. “What?”

  “Will you please gas up the car while I use the icky, skigusting bathroom?”

  “This is your trip.”

  Teal held herself still, showing no reaction. What was she supposed to do about the lippy response? With no more privileges to lose and angry about being hauled off to Cedar Pointe, Maiya was having a heyday acting up.

  What would River’s mother do? Forget Xena. What would Liz Adams do?

  Play. Ease up on the rules. For now.

  It was either that or turn around and go home.

  “Maiya, a part of driving is putting gas in the car. If you want to drive, put gas in the car.”

  Her tilted chin sagged and swung around to face Teal. “I can drive?”

  “You think I want to do seven hundred miles all by myself?”

  Maiya practically jumped out of the car.

  Teal met her at the pump and handed her a credit card and her phone. “River sent you a text.”

  Maiya smiled.

  Teal smiled back at her and headed toward the station to buy as much of Maiya’s favorite junk food as the place offered.

  Memories rolled toward her down the 101 like a fog growing denser with each passing mile. Two hours south of Camp Poppycock, Teal had decided to spend the night in a motel rather than finish the drive as planned.

  Maybe the emotional fog would rise with the morning sun.

  The motel in a Northern California town, naturally, did not compare to the one they stayed at the previous night in San Francisco. Maiya griped about it. Teal bribed her. If Maiya changed her attitude, she could make the drive up the coast, something she would not be allowed in the dark. Maiya could not say enough positive things about the place.

  Since Teal’s conversation with River, life on the road had improved to a great extent. In a no-man’s-land between home and destination, mother and daughter shoved all the nasty stuff under the rug.

  Playtime was almost over, though. The rug had to be picked up, shaken, and put away. They were left with a hardwood floor littered with nasty stuff, issues like River’s absence, being grounded, school suspension, strained relations with extended family, and life off the grid.

  “Mom!” Maiya squealed now from the driver’s seat. “I don’t remember this at all!” She turned toward her side window and the vista of ocean far below. “I was only six, but still, you’d think I’d—Mom! Look at that!”

  Teal looked instead straight ahead at the highway and pumped her right foot against the floorboard. The two-lane hugging the winding, hilly Oregon coastline was no place for a fifteen-year-old driver to gaze at views.

  “Honey! The road!”

  Maiya whipped back to attention. “Oh, yeah. It’s just so awesome.”

  Teal blew out a long breath and took a quick peek sideways. A sweet familiarity washed over her. How could she have forgotten the magic? Ocean on one side, mountains and wilderness on the other, a permeating scent of green like a never-ending springtime.

  Maiya said, “This coast isn’t anything like ours. It’s just so huge! And all those megarocks out in the water. What are those?”

  She glanced again at the Pacific with its collection of boulders, some fat and round, some jagged towers. “Sea stacks. They were part of the cliffs at one time, before the ocean eroded away the land.”

  “Wild.”

  “Yeah, they are. You’ll see all shapes and sizes. Growing up, I called them giants. They kept watch over Camp— I mean, Cedar Pointe.” Teal went still inside, thinking how she would sit for hours on end, gazing at her gentle guardians, giving them names, and feeling safe.

  They would stop there first, at the spot where she first knew that someone bigger than her stepdad cared about her.

  “Mom, is that it?” Maiya pointed at the windshield.

  They were still thirty minutes away, but in the distance the land jutted out into their line of sight. Tiny buildings dotted the area. “That’s it, the westernmost point on the continental States.”

  “Cool.”

  Teal smiled to herself. Somehow Maiya had picked up on River’s fascination with geography and nature. Maybe the unusual aspects of Cedar Pointe would help keep her attitude from sinking too low.

  It was too much to hope for. Maiya’s attitude bottomed out as they descended the last hill and entered the town.

  Braking, she groaned. “Please tell me there’s more around the next bend. Like a stoplight. Maybe a stop sign. Any hint of civilization.”

  It did not require much of a leap to see through her daughter’s eyes the three blocks that stretched before them.

  The speed limit had gone down to thirty. On the left, the land flattened out enough for a small parking lot above the ocean. A restaurant and shell shop bordered it. On the right was a motel. A little farther ah
ead were an art gallery, a café, a boarded-up storefront, a real estate office, a coffee shop.

  “Well, around the bend is your aunt and uncle’s coffee shop.”

  “There’s a coffee shop right over there.” She pointed.

  “Coffee is a big thing up here in the Northwest.”

  “What about a stoplight?”

  “I’m sure Lacey would have told me if one had been put in.”

  “Stop sign?”

  “No stop signs. This is the highway.”

  “Mom!” Maiya’s voice warbled, making it a two-syllable word.

  “Turn into that parking lot.”

  “Unbelievable.” She flipped on the signal. “You’re saying this major highway runs right through town and it doesn’t get enough traffic for one lousy stoplight?” She overshot the turn. The car bumped up and down a curb. “Whoops. At least they have curbs.”

  “Hush and park the car. I want to show you something.”

  Maiya pulled into a slot, or rather two slots. The car straddled a line, but she turned off the engine.

  “Maiya.”

  She rolled her eyes and restarted the car. “Okay, I’ll fix it. It’s not like there’s anyone else here.” Evidently the two RVs and one minivan did not count.

  “It’s Labor Day weekend. It’ll fill up.”

  “Tourists actually stop here?”

  Now Teal rolled her eyes. “It’s not Disneyland, but it is beautiful, right? You noticed that on the drive.”

  Maiya wrestled with the steering wheel until she managed to get the car almost between two lines. “Yeah.” Her tone grudged.

  “You mind leaving the attitude here in the car?”

  She looked at Teal, her expression sad. “All right, Mom.”

  “Thank you. We’re going to be okay. Trust me?”

  She nodded, her lower lip thrust out, part defiance, part chagrin.

  “Maiya, remember: what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

  The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

  Teal laughed. The old phrase had been their mother-daughter mantra for years, probably up until the day she married River. “We may have to start using that again. Often.”

  Steep, narrow paths led down from the parking lot to the beach, a long stretch that hugged the sweeping curve of coastline Teal and Maiya had just driven along.

  It was a wild, wind-whipped place. The beach beckoned more to tide-pool explorers than sunbathers. It was strewn with logs and debris washed up by the surf, peppered with stones and boulder outcroppings.

  Maiya did not say a word.

  Teal touched her arm. “Let’s go up.”

  She led the way along a grassy path that dipped for a distance and then began to rise. The vegetation soon gave way to rock. The flatness dropped to cliffs on either side. The wind was in her face, the sun on her neck, the land solid beneath her feet, the loud whoosh of the sea filling her head. Teal felt again the magic in the majesty of it all.

  The path turned vertical, but neither she nor Maiya feared heights. They were climbing one of her giants, which during this time of low tide was not adrift and separated from the shoreline.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, to the top.” She answered the unasked question, not turning to look at her teen who played the trumpet, watched ball games, and walked no farther than from the parking lot into the mall. “And yes, I’m out of breath too. Get used to it. This is a physical place. Good grief.” She huffed, muttering to herself. “We need to join a gym.”

  “What happened to my mother, the anti-outdoorswoman?”

  “I’m only anti–outdoor plumbing.”

  “What’s at the top?”

  The crook of the giant’s arm. “Uh, you’ll see.”

  It was a hard climb. The trail tapered, requiring attention to keep their feet on it. They passed no one. At last they stood on a fairly flat surface, wide enough for one scraggly shore pine tree, its limbs sheared off on the windward side. A waxy-leafed ground vine covered the area. Sky and water surrounded them on three sides.

  Teal said, “A little farther.”

  “There is no ‘little farther.’”

  Teal smiled and walked to the far edge.

  “Seriously, Mom.”

  She waved for Maiya to follow, glanced at the crashing waves far below, and turned sideways. “It’s right here.” Stepping carefully, she went down and laterally a few feet. The boulder became a wall on her left, blocking sight of Maiya. Bracing herself against it, she bent under a slight overhang and moved into a hollowed-out nook.

  “Mom!”

  “Keep coming. Hold on to your zingiezangers!”

  Maiya appeared and edged her way down. “Whoa, I guess so! This is high!”

  “Have a seat.”

  They eased themselves down on the damp rock, sitting cross-legged.

  Maiya whistled in admiration at the view. “River would love this.”

  Straight ahead was nothing but a few far-flung giants, the horizon, and two fishing boats the size of bath toys. Waves crashed at the bottom of the rock, but even at high tide it would remain far below.

  The crook of the giant’s arm was just large enough for the two of them to sit squished together. Above them, his shoulder hid them from view. His elbow curved out to the left as if in an embrace.

  Teal breathed in the thick salt air. Thank You, God. I needed this. “Nice, huh?”

  “Yeah, it is. I don’t remember it, though.”

  “I didn’t bring you when you were six. It was winter and everything was fogged in for our whole visit.” Fogged in, in more ways than one.

  “I saw the plaque by the tree. Warrior Rock?”

  “Yes. It was named after a band of Indians who made their last stand up here.”

  “They got chased out here and killed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sick.”

  Teal hesitated to go on. How much was too much for a fifteen-year-old? Sick permeated not only the first settlement’s history but Teal’s childhood. “Anyway, I used to come here to be alone. I felt safe up here.”

  “Because of Owen and Gran Randi?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I don’t remember this coastline, but I do remember them. He was one ticked-off dude. All you and Gran did was hiss at each other like a couple of cats.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Mom, get over it already. You’ve apologized like a million times. She’s probably still a grump, but she always sends me nice birthday cards. And he’s gotta be really old and decrepit by now, don’t you think? I’m not afraid of a monster who sits around and drools.” She made a silly face, her tongue lolling out.

  “Mai.” Teal’s reprimand was halfhearted.

  “Just trying to get you to lighten up.”

  She smiled to herself. There was no need to describe the specifics that sent her racing to Warrior Rock as a kid. She could trust in her daughter’s intuition to set boundaries when it came to Owen and Randi’s dysfunctional behaviors.

  Maiya said, “So how come nobody ever came to visit us?”

  “I don’t think any of them wanted to, especially not after our trip here. Long before that, when I left for college, we more or less disowned each other and were happy to do so. Not Lacey so much; she was only twelve at the time. But we were never close.”

  “Then why are we here now?”

  “Fair question.” Teal took a moment to word her reply, glad to at last have Maiya’s full attention. “I wanted to mommy you through this ordeal, away from regular life distractions.”

  Maiya gazed straight ahead toward the ocean and worked her mouth.

  “You don’t have to accept or understand that.”

  Still not looking at Teal, she said, “You could have done that anywhere else in the world.”

  “That’s true. But Lacey kept bugging me and suddenly I had this overwhelming desire to bring you here.” She lowered her eyes and traced her thumb along a seam of her jeans. “She had a mi
scarriage recently, and I guess I wanted to share my baby with her.”

  Maiya scooted closer until her arm pressed against Teal’s. “That’s really cheesy, Mom.”

  “Promise not to tell?”

  “Sure.” She laid her head on Teal’s shoulder. “I can see this working up here. It feels totally safe. It’s kind of like climbing into the Incredible Hulk’s lap.” She touched a patch of lichen. “He’s even green.”

  Teal chuckled and peeked sideways down at her daughter. How she enjoyed the unlined face when it was at peace, like now. The wide-set, forest-green eyes sparkled in reflection of the ocean’s deep blue. The little bowtie mouth sported a hint of gloss, a sign that Maiya wanted to look her best to meet the relatives.

  Okay. Teal sighed. Maybe it was time she let go of the past and put on her own lipstick.

  Chapter 23

  “Nervous?”

  Lacey jumped at the voice. “Holly!”

  “Sorry.” The woman beside her chuckled. Dimples creased her face, ringed by a mass of curly, short brown hair. “I thought you were with us here on earth.”

  “Physically only, I guess.” She looked out again over the top of the pastry display case and realized that the Saturday-morning crowd had fuzzed from view.

  “Lacey, go outside and wait for them. I’m here to cover for you all day.”

  “I know. Thanks.” She gently elbowed Holly’s arm. “They were supposed to be here by now.”

  Her best friend since third grade elbowed her back. “Teal never was punctual.”

  Lacey swallowed. Her sister’s reputation made it impossible for townspeople to accept that maybe she had changed. “But she’s a lawyer. She has meetings and court times. I’m sure she’s more punctual now.”

  “She’s probably just as nervous as you are and procrastinating.”

  Lacey turned to her. “Really? You think so?”

  “Oh, Lacey. So what if she’s a big-time Los Angeles attorney with movie star clients? So what if Maiya is a spoiled, rich, 90210 ditz? They will be nervous about coming here.”

  “Teal has only worked with one big-name actress, and she’s not super rich. Some client practically gave her the house. Her loans were atrocious, and River is a teacher. And—”