“What?” He looked like someone who’d just been surprise punched.
“I’ll slip in first. You can come in afterward.”
“I’m not sure…” He trailed off, obviously unsure what to say or do.
“Give me a minute and then come out.” She spoke with more assurance than she felt, then tumbled out the door. Why had she done that? Would the water obscure her legs? It didn’t matter, she told herself. He’s Trey. You trust him with your life.
At the edge of the shallow end of the pool, she halted and stared into the water, now with both hands clutching the towel. The sun hovered above the sea, still owning the day with her powerful rays. Below the surface of the water, blue tiles mimicked the sky. She glanced at the beach house, half expecting Trey to be standing there watching. But no, he’d kept his promise. She took off the towel and set it on the warm stone. Holding on to the railing, she inched into the water, taking one stair at a time until she was fully submerged. The delight of the cool water on her overheated skin quenched her very soul. Her breath caught. Using mostly arm strength, as her legs were weak, she swam toward the deep end, then dived under the surface with her eyes open until she reached the bottom. The salt water buoyed her, making her movements light and effortless. Her legs no longer ached from the endless shift she’d spent on her feet. She broke through the surface of the water, sputtering with joy. Then she swam to the end of the pool and back again, remembering.
She hadn’t swum since the summer before the accident. During those hot months, she and Stone had cooled off almost every afternoon in the creek on the far end of their neighbor’s property. The pig farmer’s wife was a generous woman and had made sure they knew it was available to them any time. The swimming hole was a five-foot-deep section of the creek with bracing cold water even through August. They didn’t care. Nothing felt better than jumping in after their chores were completed and before she had to start dinner. She and Stone would splash and swim and look for crawdads under rocks. They never found any, but their enthusiasm and hope never waned.
Their search for crawdads was a great metaphor for the way she and Stone thought about their life. Even with their circumstances, they always assumed everything would be fine. The three of them would escape poverty one day. Kyle would make sure of it. He was clever and driven and grown-up before his time. Plus, the three of them had one another. Life would not keep them down forever.
Kyle was already working every shift he could down at the diner, so most afternoons he couldn’t join them. But she and Stone talked and talked with their toes in the water every day of that long, perfect summer. The plans they made on the bank of that creek would not have seemed ambitious to those who dreamed of fame and wealth. Theirs were simple wishes. A home of their own. Made from wood, not tin, Stone would always add. A great love to share a life with. One who loved them and would never leave. Children who didn’t have to wear clothes from the thrift store. Enough to eat throughout the whole month instead of running out several days before the next paycheck.
She remembered those afternoons as the last time she was free. Before the accident, she had no pain. She was strong and vital with limbs that could run nimbly through a forest, avoiding roots and fallen branches like the deer they often spotted. Her whole life had been ahead of her. Sure, their home life wasn’t ideal, but Kyle took care of them. To her, life was as good as it had ever been. In the fall, cheerleading would begin. After she’d been accepted onto the team, Kyle had worked extra shifts to make sure she could participate. She was so grateful to him, yet he’d already lulled her into a sense of security and self-centeredness. Like all good parents, he made sure she had everything she truly wanted. Cheer had been one of those things.
She knew in that way that young people do—she would be the star of the team. Even the others, who had taken dance classes and cheerleading camps all their lives, couldn’t outdo her innate talent. She was graceful and flexible. Her body memorized the routines without much effort, as if she was born to do exactly this.
Once he worked at the diner, Kyle made sure the hot water stayed turned on, and they made a weekly trip to the Laundromat. They could bathe daily and always had clean clothes to wear. Her hair smelled of flowers, and her dewy skin glowed with health. When she looked at herself in the mirror, the green eyes that peered back at her shone with promise.
The boys in town looked at her then, not like before, when she’d been invisible because of her shabby clothes and unwashed hair. Her beauty couldn’t be diminished, even by poverty. Despite faded clothes, her long, muscular legs and curvy hips caught their attention. They forgot they’d ever called her brother pig or her disgusting and dirty. Now these same boys ogled her when she walked by them. She hadn’t forgotten the truth, though. She remembered which children had shown kindness to her. And perhaps more so, she remembered who had been cruel. Those slights stayed with her, despite the shallow admiration from lustful boys. She held her head as high as she always had. Proud, sure, and without any apology for the scarcity in her life, knowing that what resided inside her was more than she needed to rise above. Someday she would thrive in a world that had set her up to fail. She would not fail. Not her. Not with her light.
Kyle had called her their lighthouse. He said she shone bright enough for all three of them. With her glow, they could always find their way. But that was before the accident. In the excruciating months afterward, through the surgeries and the pain and then the awful realization that Kyle, like their mother, had left for good, her light went out.
Being in the water reminded her of the girl she used to be. She felt the lighthouse version of herself deep inside, trying to get back out to the world. If she swam every day, would her vitality return, despite her damaged legs? Could she grow strong and confident? Was it possible to live without apology or shame?
Now she draped her arms over the edge of the pool and looked toward the glass doors, wanting Trey. “Trey, you can come out now.”
She watched as he tentatively opened the door and came out to stand at the edge of the pool. He wasn’t a big man, but his legs and torso were tanned and muscular. Compact and just right.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could join him at the beach? Maybe her fair skin would turn slightly golden if she weren’t too shy to wear a bathing suit. If she weren’t insecure, could they stand in the ocean together and let the salt water wash over them? Could she hold his hand and ignore the stares of children, too young to know their curiosity was impolite? Would he look at her as he was right now, smiling down at her as if she were spectacular?
“Hey, there, little mermaid.” His eyes burned through her as he knelt by the edge of the pool. “Does it feel as good as you hoped?”
What was the message in his gaze? Did he find her beautiful? Did he see her the way she used to see herself? She’d caught him many times over the last few months, watching her with that same look in his eyes. She hadn’t recognized the expression of admiration because she hadn’t remembered what it felt like to know your own beauty from the gleam in a man’s eyes. But here in the water, this older, less hopeful version of Autumn recalled how it felt to steal a man’s gaze, to have power over him because of her loveliness.
Her legs dangled under her, hidden from his eyes. If she imagined them as a mermaid’s tail, could she swim next to Trey? “Come in?” she asked.
Like an excited kid, he plunged into the water just feet from where she clung to the side. As he sank to the bottom, bubbles rose to the surface. She held her breath, irrationally frightened that he might not return. Seconds later, he erupted out of the water with the force of a sea titan. Of course he came back up. He could swim. And so far, he’d always returned to her. “God, this feels good, doesn’t it?” He grinned at her, again reminding her of an excited boy.
“Yes, yes it does.”
His sinewy arms moved through the water in a practiced breaststroke toward her. When he reached her, he stopped and rested one arm on the edge of the pool. “
This is the life, right?” He shook the water from his hair.
She squealed as a few droplets dotted her face. “You’re like a puppy. Don’t you know it’s bad manners to shake your wet fur on a lady?”
He shook his head once more. “They’re very loyal, you know. Puppies.”
“Is that right?” She laughed and splashed water at him.
“You should get a puppy. I wouldn’t worry about you living alone if you had a dog.”
“I don’t have time for a dog,” she said. “And I wouldn’t be able to walk one. They pull too hard on the leash.” She splashed him again. “You worry about me living alone? I didn’t know that.”
“Sure I do. I wish you’d gotten the security system Rafael suggested.”
She’d thought about it, but the cost seemed outrageous considering how safe the community of Cliffside Bay was. “I don’t need one. Who would want to harm me?”
“You never know,” Trey said. “There are all kinds of scary people out there. Especially now that you’re dating so much. You don’t ever tell them where you live, do you?”
“No. I know better.” She thought of Art. He’d said the same thing. Why did men seem to think women needed help figuring out something so simple? “Not before the first date. So far, there have been no second dates.”
Trey’s eyes glimmered as he looked away from her. “It’s best to have high standards.”
“I do. I guess.” That was just the problem. No one compared to Trey.
He gestured toward the house. “Is this the kind of man you’re looking for? A Brody Mullen type?”
“You mean rich or athletic?”
Trey laughed. “I meant the rich part.”
“A pool would be nice, given my shyness about showing my body in public. But I never think about money that way. I’d rather have a good man than a rich one.” She turned to rest both arms on the pool. He matched her pose. They hung there, like two kids on the side of a dock. Again, the feeling of the old Autumn washed over her. The water made her young. “Why’d you ask me about that?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ve been wondering what you’re looking for.”
I’m looking for a guy like you. That thought came before she could push it away. “Someone decent, smart, and who makes me laugh. Someone not so good-looking that he needs his wife to match him. A few scars might help. That way we’d match.”
Trey’s shoulders rose and fell. Air whistled between his teeth as he let out a long sigh. “People are scarred in ways that can’t be seen on the outside, you know.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It is. Wounds of the heart can be deeper than any physical one.”
“I suppose that’s true.” When Kyle had left, she’d wanted to curl up in her bed and go to sleep until he came home, realizing his mistake.
She sucked in a shallow breath as a memory came, one she didn’t even know she had.
It was of Kyle. He had held on to their mother’s leg as she crossed the muddy driveway to the man’s car. He’d begged her not to go. How had he known she would not return?
Valerie had stopped and knelt down to speak to him. Then she got into the car. He’d stood in the driveway in mud up to his ankles and watched the back of the car barreling down the dirt road. Where had Autumn been? Where had she been standing? She remembered then. Stone had been beside her. They’d stood at the dirty front window of the trailer. He’d held her hand as sobs racked his body. “Mommy. Don’t go,” Stone had wailed as the car drove away, mud spraying from the tires.
She inhaled a quick, sharp breath as pain shot through her. At four years old she’d watched her mother leave them. Ten years later, Kyle had done the same. And what about the man next to her? Would he leave, too? It seemed everyone she loved the most did. Not Stone, a voice whispered to her. He never left. Maybe Trey wouldn’t either.
“What’s wrong?” Trey’s brow furrowed. “Do your legs hurt?”
“No. I just remembered the day my mom left us. I didn’t think I remembered her leaving.” She touched fingertips to her chest. “And it hurts.”
“Tell me of your heart’s pain and I’ll tell you mine.” Trey gave her a sad smile, then rested his right cheek on his forearms that draped over the side of the pool. “What did you remember?”
Still hanging from the side of the pool, she rested her chin on her hands and spoke softly. “I remembered the day my mom left. I hadn’t thought the memory was there at all. For years I’ve told Stone I remember nothing of that day—nothing, really, of my mother.” She told him how she and Stone had watched from the window. “Stone was only six, but he told me we’d been instructed to stay inside. So we just stood and watched as Kyle held on to her leg, begging her to stay.” Her voice cracked, and she paused to control her breathing. “She said something to him before she got in the car.” Without realizing what she was doing, she inched closer to Trey until their shoulders, warm from the lingering sun, touched. Under the water, her legs swayed as gently as a mermaid’s tail, had there been such a thing. “I wonder what she said to him?”
“You could ask him.” Trey lifted his head and turned to face her.
“Or her. I wonder if she would remember?”
“She might not remember any of it. Maybe all she could do or think was to escape. To save herself before she could save you guys.”
“That’s what she says. But still, I don’t understand.” Autumn lifted her head to look above Trey to the awning that hung over the pool house. An empty bird’s nest was nestled in the corner rafters. Where had the birds gone? Or were there eggs inside, abandoned by their mother? Could eggs hatch if their mother left? Would the lack of their mother’s warmth kill them before they emerged from their shells? Or would they hatch, only to find themselves alone with only their brothers and sisters to keep them company? Would they look at one another as she and her brothers had, and wonder if they would starve without fully formed wings with which to save themselves? “After she left, Kyle had to become a grown-up. Or, at least, partially. Our dad was like half a person—there but not. Every time I soften toward her, I remember what she did, and the anger floods through me the color and temperature of a hot poker. I don’t know if I can ever forgive her.”
Trey was quiet for a moment, perhaps thinking carefully about how to respond to such a statement. “I thought that same thing about Malia for a long time. Not that a wife’s betrayal is the same as a mother’s. I understand that. Having a spouse cheat on you is bad, but nothing could ever come close to the kind of abandonment you experienced. I’m not trying to diminish your feelings.”
“I know you’re not,” she said softly. “Pain is pain.”
“Her affair cut me to the core. I truly hated her. Do you know I wished she’d died instead of decided to leave? That way my grief could have just been loss instead of rage. I could have just been sad. Betrayal and abandonment are a whole different breed of loss.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“But after a time, my rage lessened, and I started to see that her decision had nothing to do with me. I’d loved her. I’d been faithful and wanted nothing more than to grow old with her. That wasn’t what she wanted. And ultimately, we can’t get anyone to do something they don’t want to do.” He paused as he turned around and pressed his back against the side of the pool. “Not forgiving her was only hurting me. She was having sex with the tadpole in my bed and running the business I built and having a grand old time. I bet she didn’t give one thought to me. She was too busy living. On the other hand, I was miserable. So I had to let it go.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to see her. You don’t have to have her in your life. There’s no choice about whether or not you let her back in.”
“Like your choice about whether to let your mom back in?”
“Yes.”
He turned back to her. His blue eyes ensnared her gaze. She couldn’t look away from their beauty. “If you could forgive her, a lot of things in your life might c
hange for the better.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe coming to an understanding that her leaving had nothing to do with you and all to do with her mental illness. Really understanding that none of it had to do with you might allow you to let others in without so much fear of abandonment.”
“Oh, I see.” Dumbfounded by this startling insight, she stared into his unblinking eyes. “Do you think if I came to terms with this, the right man might suddenly appear? Like maybe I would recognize him when he came?”
“It could be.”
She turned and lowered herself into the water until it reached her neck. The bottom of the pool felt rough against her tender feet. “I’ve been corresponding with a guy in Paris. He’s scarred, like me. Maybe I should fly to Paris and see if he’s the one.” She meant it as a joke but given Trey’s reaction, he didn’t take it that way.
Trey’s eyebrows knit together, and his expression darkened. “You’re not going to Paris alone.” He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.
“Why not?” She poked his chest, enjoying teasing him for being so overprotective.
“For one thing, the bathrooms are terrible. They’re mostly up or down skinny, rickety stairs. I wouldn’t be there to lean on when you tired at the end of the day.”
She blinked, then laughed. “I got along just fine for twenty-eight years before I met you. I’d be fine.”
“Who would carry your suitcases?” He was practically glowering at her.
“I’d travel light.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
She laughed again. Since their trip to Colorado for Lisa and Rafael’s wedding, he knew she had a serious overpacking problem. “Well, if you’re so worried, you can come with me to Paris. You can lurk around the corner when I meet him. If he’s creepy, you can rescue me.”
His eyes dulled even further. “Sure. Good idea.”
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