Moonglass. Part 11

"I know that." She cut me short in a flicker of emotion, then almost as quickly regained her composure. "Sorry. Everyone has told me that, and logically it's probably true." She shrugged. "I just don't think I'll ever stop wondering about the what-ifs, though. You know? It's just s.h.i.+tty and unfair...."

She trailed off again, and I s.h.i.+fted my weight. I focused hard on her. Avoided the fact that I felt the same way. "But you still run. Isn't that hard sometimes?

Because that was a thing you did together?"

"No." She turned to me. "Running is the place I feel closest to her, where I can get away from the rest of it." I thought about my own running, which I'd been doing for a long time. "I get it. It's the one time I can forget about everything and just go. Hard." She laughed softly, then sat up straight, and I could tell the conversation was about to s.h.i.+ft. "I knew it. You always run like you're running away from something." She zipped her iPod into her backpack. "It's good you're up for going hard, because today is mile repeats. Four of them, at six-minute pace." I took a deep breath and pushed it out as we stood up. "Oh, G.o.d."

"It won't hurt that bad ... when we're done." She threw her backpack over her shoulder. "I can promise you this, you won't have anything else in your mind besides the pain we're about to feel. I think that's why coach decided to do them today, in my honor. Or Krista's. She used to kick everyone's a.s.s in these."

"Well, guess it's up to you to carry on the tradition." We headed toward the locker room.

Jillian raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Yeah? We'll see."

She was right. About the pain being the only thing in my mind. After the first mile my lungs burned and my legs quivered from the effort. I crossed the line at the same time as Jillian, and after our talk this afternoon, I did it more out of wanting to be a friend to her than feeling compet.i.tive. We jogged the next lap without talking, working on getting our breath and heart rates back to normal. At the starting line for the second mile, we shook out our legs and waited for Coach Martin's whistle. I took off hard, getting a jump on her at first. She caught me quickly though, and just as she did, I felt the first fat drop of rain land on my cheek. By the time we rounded the turn and headed into the third lap, the sky opened up on us with an intensity that I relished.

Time s.h.i.+fted and I ceased to think about anything but breathing and pus.h.i.+ng my legs forward through the rain that blurred my vision and hid the tears that welled up, hot and fierce. And it hurt like nothing else, but as I looked at Jillian from the corner of my eye, I felt like I wasn't alone in what I was running from.

And that, at least, was a comfort.

CHAPTER 22.

"EAT PASTA, RUN FASTA!"

The peppy banner hung over Jillian's dining room table a few days later. Her mom had volunteered to host "team night" at her house a night before the Breakers Invitationall tradition and had gone all out-complete with enough spaghetti, garlic bread, and salad to feed all the teams in the meet. I watched her flit around us, winking as she heaped more noodles onto our plates, laughing heartily when we said we were full , and running Jillian around with a million tiny requests that I could see were wearing on her.

When she asked Jillian, for the third time, to see if anyone wanted more garlic bread, it was clear she'd pushed a b.u.t.ton. Jillian took her mom by the shoulders, forcing her to be still a moment, and said, as calmly as she could, "Mom. You need to relax. We're all fine. If anyone needs anything else, it's all out here on the counter for them to get." She swept her arm over the spread. Beth took a deep breath, pressed her lips together, and nodded, before turning to find another detail that needed attending. The brief little exchange made me wonder if her constant, smiling busyness was natural, or if it was one of the ways Beth dealt with the loss of her other daughter. Judging by Jillian's strained mood, I guessed it was the latter. And I felt for her, having to deal with her own grief along with her mom's. It was a lot to stand up under.

n.o.body else seemed to notice amidst the chatter and laughter of the whole team at one table. Even Coach Martin had come, and for once he let down his serious-coach demeanor to laugh with us and eat a ridiculous amount of spaghetti. After three helpings courtesy of Jill 's mom, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up at the head of the table, clearing his throat to get our attention. When our forks clinked down onto our plates, and the chatter died down, he clapped his hands together.

"Ladies, ladies, ladies. First off, we owe a big thank you to Jillian's mom for this feast here. It's a lot of work she put in to feed you girls, so let's give her a big hand." We all did, and the smile that spread over Beth's face was genuinely happy. Coach went on. "Now. Let's talk a little business about tomorrow." Feigned groans rippled around the table, and he waved a dismissive hand. "Tomorrow's meet isn't a league meet, but I want you to treat it like it is. The team that wins the Breakers Invitational wins the sponsors.h.i.+p of the Newport Running Club, which means brand-new uniforms, shoes, and money enough for a cushy trip to Mt. Sac, when that race comes around. So we want this one. Bad." He looked over at me and Jillian. "Jill, you and Anna are gonna lead. Keep everyone together as much as possible, and work the hill s like I know you two can, okay?" We both nodded. "All right. Now let's finish up, help Mrs. Matthews get her kitchen clean, and then get home and get some rest."

Coach Martin wasn't one for big speeches, but he got his point across. After helping with the dishes, I left Jillian's more than a little nervous about being charged with the task of leading the team.

By the time I got home, I was nervous in an entirely different way. The tingly, b.u.t.terfly, electric way. Every day since the beginning of the week, Tyler had come down after practice in the evening when the sun was setting, and we'd wait for my dad to do his patrol lap before we headed, barefoot, onto the darkened beach. Once the lights of the truck b.u.mped up the hill to patrol the parking lots above, the night, the beach, and the cottages were ours. In a week's time we'd made our way through several of them, with Tyler as my personal guide and me more than happy to go along listening to his random bits of history and stories about the cove.

I checked the clock when I came in from dinner and was relieved I had a few minutes before he was supposed to meet me. Enough time at least for a spritz of perfume and a mint. Once freshened up, I sat on the couch and waited for the now familiar sound of his flip-flops coming up our front steps. The sun had just set, but it was darker than usual because of the clouds that had moved in. A storm was supposed to hit hard by the next evening, but from the looks of the sky, it was gonna be early. I hoped, after all the buildup this week, the race wouldn't be rained out. I was nervous, but I'd stored up a lot in the last few weeks that I needed to let loose. And for now, at least, running seemed to be the best way to do it.

Tyler's knock interrupted my thoughts. I hadn't heard the shuffle of his feet, but he stood silhouetted against the sky when I opened the door.

"Hey." He stepped into me and smiled. "You smell good."

I stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. "You smell like a pool."

"You love it."

"I don't know about love, but it's growing on me." I took a step back. "Where to tonight?" He glanced out the door. "It's looking like it's gonna rain soon. You wanna stick close?"

"Yeah, we probably should. Let me just get my sweater."

We sat on the gritty deck of the lifeguard tower in front my house, feet propped up on the railing. A layer of clouds hung low in the sky, illuminated by the lights below, and a set wave pounded the sand, exploding in a white line down the length of the beach. At the rocks it sprayed high into the air, then pulled back in preparation for another surge.

"Man, I'm glad we never got this much swell this summer. That'd be a sketchy rescue out there in waves like that." The next wave thundered down onto the rocks, erupting white water into the sky. "My dad's got some scary stories about rock rescues."

"I know." He smiled. "I heard the best ones last weekend."

I laughed under my breath. "They get like that when they're together, him and Andy. That's what they've always done ... for as long as I can remember." Tyler nodded slowly, like he was thinking about something, then he looked over at me. "Andy's like family to you guys, huh?"

Another wave-this one small er than the others-washed over the rocks, and I swallowed, suddenly wary of where our conversation could go. But then I steered it in that direction. "Yeah. He's like family. Ever since my mom died. He's always been there for us." I looked down at my hands, surprised at what I'd said. I'd wanted nothing more than to avoid mentioning or thinking about her since Tyler had put his hand to my cheek and kissed me that night. And now there she was again.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, toward her cottage. "Is it hard for you, or him, to live here?" I hadn't realized he could know it had been hers. But then again, it made sense. He knew about all the other ones.

I watched another wave explode on the rocks. "Not any harder than it was living at the beach where she drowned." It came out sounding harsher than I'd meant it to, and I cleared my throat and sat up straight. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ..." Tyler put a warm hand on my leg. "You didn't. Don't worry about it." He sat up and listened. "What you should worry about is that your dad must have hidden cameras around here or something." He shook his head. "d.a.m.n."

I looked around, confused at first, but then I saw the b.u.mp of headlights flas.h.i.+ng over the sand. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope." He scooted toward the ladder. "We should go."

"Wait a sec." I had to smile at his nervousness. "You just got here. Stay. I'll pretend like I was on a walk or something, then I'll come back." Tyler shook his head. "Nah, I should go. I got that game tomorrow anyway. But you go first." He pushed himself back against the front wall of the tower and leaned back so I could climb over him. I paused when I got to his lap, and he looked at me, serious. "Anna. If you ever want to, we could go in there together. Your mom's old place, I mean." He shrugged. "Just ... if you're curious. I'd go with you."

I didn't want to think about it. "Maybe one day." I gave him a quick kiss, knowing I never would, then climbed over him to the ladder.

"Think about it." He leaned down and kissed me once more. "Good luck in your race. I'll callyou when I get back from the game."

"Okay. I don't think we'll dive or anything with the storm that's coming in, but we sometimes do pizza night when we can't do Poke-N-Eat. I'll let you know." Tyler nodded and leaned back into the tower's shadow while I jumped down into the sand, took a breath, and walked out into my dad's low beams.

He pulled around me and rolled down his window, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. "Hey, hon. What're you doing out here?" I shrugged. "I needed some fresh air. Thought I'd check out the swell that's coming in." Another wave hit with a low rumble. "It's getting big out here tonight."

He looked out toward the water. "Yeah. It's supposed to keep building until tomorrow night. Don't think we'll be doing any diving." Another wave pounded the rocks. "Yeah. I wouldn't want to be out there anytime soon." A woman dispatcher's voice crackled over the radio in the truck, and my dad turned it up and c.o.c.ked his head to the side to listen. Something about the upper parking lot. He responded in code, the only part of which I recognized was his badge number. He leaned his elbow out the window. "I gotta go up there. Why don't you go on into the house?" I nodded and turned to go, then paused. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

I shook my head. "Nothing ... I'll see you in the morning. Good night."

He stuck his arm out and rested a heavy hand on my head. "Night, Anna. I love you. Now go back in and get to bed. You got your big race tomorrow." I nodded and turned again to head back to home. As I did, the forceful clap of water on rocks made me jump before I jogged up the sand to our house, suddenly cold.

Once inside, I watched my dad's headlights move north up the beach, slicing through the darkness in front of them. And then, like they always did, my eyes wandered over to the beach cottage. Between what Tyler and my dad had told me, it sounded like my great-grandma had been there until the end, when they'd all had to leave. Which meant my mother's room had been too. I sat for a moment, considering Tyler's offer to take me in. When I grabbed the spare flashlight from the charger, I told myself I'd feel better if I looked inside just once, by myself.

CHAPTER 23.

The padlock was rusted through. I wrapped my hand around the crumbling metal and yanked down hard. It fell to the dirt with a clunk, and the door inched open. I looked around to make sure no one had seen, then took a deep breath and stepped over the doorway. The now-familiar smell of damp wood and stale air hung heavy around me in the darkness and sat utterly still, in contrast to my heart, which jumped and kicked in my chest. I hesitated, then clicked on the flashlight, keeping it pointed at the ground. Mouse pellets, dirt, and wood shavings covered the floor beneath my feet, and dark wood paneled all of the walls.

My gut reaction was to get out-back into air I could breathe and back to the place I had kept myself in for so long, where my mother was just another one of my childhood memories that had long since grown hazy and surreal. But I had crossed the threshold, and now something in me forced my feet forward. I swung the flashlight in a slow arc around the edges of the room, which had probably once been the living area.

To my left I could see an old stove through a small doorway. Beyond that lay a short hall way with another door off to the right. I crept past the kitchen, then stopped and peeked into a tiny bathroom. A dry toilet stood in the center, surrounded by pieces of broken tiles and rusty pipe. As I turned to go on, the thick threads of a cobweb stretched across my face, and I swatted frantically at them, dropping my flashlight in the process.

It thudded onto the wood floor, rolling loudly before coming to a stop against the wall. There, in the narrow shaft of light, I saw the bottom step of a staircase that angled up almost vertical y. Up until that moment it hadn't felt much different from the other cottages in their broken-down state. I stared at the dust particles...o...b..ting one another in the light, and I knew. If there was any s.p.a.ce in the house that had been hers, that could possibly have some remnant of my mother in it, it would be up the stairs.

The first step sagged under my weight, so I crept up slowly, keeping my feet to the edges of the steps, testing them first before putting my weight fully on them. I was concentrating on this pattern of placing my feet, and then lifting my weight, when I reached the top step and finally looked up.

It was visibly lighter in this room. Not only because the walls were all painted white, but because of the large window that looked out directly onto the rocky tide pools that drew so many people, including myself. Just beyond them, a boat, probably out for lobster, sat beyond the breaking waves. Its blue-white light waved and bobbed gently over the s.h.i.+ny black surface and splashed a bright pool around the hull.

The image it created looked like a painting. I stepped back and realized why. The frame around the window was wide with detailed corners, a frame around the perfect canvas. I imagined how the picture in the center must continually change in color and texture, through seasons and weather.

Your mother was a brilliant artist.

I stepped closer, keeping the light as low as I could. To the side of the window a small door opened out to the balcony I had been so intrigued by. My hand reached for the crystal k.n.o.b, then stopped short as a dark shape on the window frame caught my eye. Cautiously I raised my light up to it and brushed away a layer of dirt to reveal what lay beneath.

It was a tail.

A curved tail that tapered and ended in two curling tips. My eyes followed the graceful lines upward and found the woman's body and waving hair that I knew would be there. I stood on my tiptoes and reached my hand up to the top corner of the window frame, then ran it down the length of it, squatting when I reached the bottom. Dirt and salty film coated my fingertips, but I didn't wipe them off.

I continued with my hand, along the bottom of the window frame, wiping away the dust, then up the other side. Faded mermaids, beautiful in their curves and waves, swam among rocks and coral in an underwater garden. When I got to the top, I had to move on raised toes, wiping the grime away with each step. No swimming figures bordered the top of the window. Instead there were three words, scrawled in faded paint. I stepped back and s.h.i.+ned my light on them.

BEAUTY, GRACE, STRENGTH.

I stared at them, afraid to breathe, then repeated them in my head. Beauty. Grace. Strength . No recognition or memory came to me, no special significance behind them. She had placed her brush on that window frame, and with delicate strokes had left something of herself, something meaningful to her that I didn't understand. That I might never understand.

Were those the things she valued most? The things she wished she'd had? Things she wanted to pa.s.s on?

I stood rooted to the sagging wood floor and switched off the flashlight. Then I sat down and cried.

She was all around me, everywhere I turned, from the moment we had arrived. And still ... she wasn't. I had fooled myself into thinking I felt some connection to this place. There it was, right in front of me. Her art. Three words. And nothing else.

I wiped my eyes, hard, wis.h.i.+ng I hadn't let myself think there had even been a possibility of anything else. She had left me alone in the dark long ago, and this time was no different. I put my head down on my knees, and my red moongla.s.s slipped out of the edge of my s.h.i.+rt and swung back and forth on its chain before coming to a stop, dangling in the dark, inches from my face.

I closed my hand around it and felt the same smooth contours that I had for the last nine years, since the night she died. A piece of sea gla.s.s. That's what she left me. I knew now that she had dropped it for me to find.

Some walks, when we combed the beach for gla.s.s, I would get discouraged when I didn't find anything at first. It always seemed that as soon as I would want to turn around and quit looking, a piece of gla.s.s would magically appear in front of me in the sand, giving me just enough reason to keep searching.

I had heard her tell my dad as they lay next to each other on our beach blanket one afternoon, soaking up the sun, that she dropped them for me to find. A few feet away I carved a tunnel into my sand castle, and I decided to walk far away from her from then on, to see if I could find them all by myself. And so when I picked up the red piece that night, and looked up and down the beach, bursting to tell her, I believed I had found it all by myself.

Because she'd been walking out into the water.

CHAPTER 24.

I squinted through the morning drizzle, watching the town car make its way down the hill. Ashley had arranged for me to be picked up and taken to the race so we could go to the spa afterward. Between the rain and a sleepless night, I'd gotten up ready to bail on both, but I didn't want to have to tell Jillian that I wasn't running, or Ashley that I was canceling, so I'd forced myself into my uniform and packed a bag for the spa.

The car stopped directly in front of me, and the driver hopped out. He jogged around to open the door I was already reaching for.

"Thank you. You didn't have to get out in the rain, though." I dropped my hand and took a step back, all owing him to open the door. As he did, Ashley leaned her head out.

"Hiieee! Get in, get in!" She patted the seat and scooted over to make room. I sat down. "Are you ready for your race?

And the spa? You are going to love this day." The door closed, and she chattered on excitedly. "Sugar glow scrub, ocean algae body wrap ..." I watched the turbulent gray water as we pulled away, still full of the empty melancholy I'd felt the night before, in my mother's room.

"Anna? You okay? ... You listening?"

"Yeah. Sorry. That all sounds great. I'm just a little nervous for this race," I lied as we made our way down the highway toward the school.

She b.u.mped my shoulder. "Oh, don't be nervous. You and Jillian are, like, the best runners we have. You'll do fine! Is your dad coming? Or Tyler? We could make a little cheering section."

"No, Tyler has a water polo game, and my dad got called out early this morning for a missing boat or something. The waves are huge right now."

"Oh. well, don't worry. I'll cheer for ya."

I nodded and turned back to the window, watching the gray streak past me. "Thanks, Ash. I appreciate it." When we pulled up to the course, I spotted Jillian right away. She wore a red plastic poncho over her uniform and stood stretching while Coach Martin went over something on his clipboard. I felt the slightest bit better, knowing we'd be running together and that I'd have to go all out. I needed to today.

We stopped in front of them, and Ashley squeezed my leg. "Good luck! I have Gatorade and snacks for when you finish. I'm gonna wait in here until the race starts. tell them all I said good luck!"

"All right." I opened the door and stepped out into the cool, wet air.

Coach looked over. "You got a chauffeur service now, Ryan?" He tossed a small plastic package to me. "Put this on. It'll keep you warm before you get started."

I opened the snap and shook out the poncho, then slid it over me. "Thanks."

He turned and put his hands to his mouth. "Coast High! I need you guys over here." Over his shoulder I saw red ponchos move through the crowd of runners and tents.

Jillian walked over. "Hey. Hope you're ready to kick some a.s.s today, cuz we've got serious compet.i.tion." She motioned with her head to a blue team gathered beneath a pop-up tent. "Their number one has the record for this course."

"Great." I tried to joke, but it was forced. "No pressure or anything." I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to go to the spa, and I didn't want to be at home, either. I wanted to go far away from everything, somewhere my mom had never been or left.

The night before, I'd sat there on her bedroom floor for who knows how long, and something in me s.h.i.+fted. From the emptiness of the room and the sharp absence of her, anger rose in me. I'd never let myself be angry with her before, but now I couldn't push it away.

Coach Martin clapped his hands together forcefully. "Okay, ladies, this is it. I know the conditions aren't the best, but get over that. I need your heads in this race. Jill, you and Anna are going for one and two." He looked over the rest of the girls. "We need to take as many of the top ten spots as we can, so stick together and go hard. It only hurts for three miles." He put his hand out in the center of us, and we stacked ours on top. "Coast Breakers! Go!" Our tight circle disintegrated as we backed up and shed our ponchos. We walked as a group to the starting line, where runners from six or eight different teams jumped up and down, rubbing their arms to keep warm. The "Al blew his whistle, and we reigned in our nervous energy enough to listen as he went over the course. We had an advantage, having trained on it, but its hill s still made for a brutal race. A race that my head was definitely not in. The race "Al finished up his instructions, then walked the line, making sure we were all behind it. When he got to the other side, coaches raised their stopwatches out in front of them, thumbs hovering over the start b.u.t.tons. The "Al held the gun high above his head and yelled the words that shot adrenaline through me every time. "Runners! Take your mark!" The sharp crack of the gun sent us off in a crowd of elbows and feet jostling for s.p.a.ce. Jillian was a step ahead of me, and I focused only on staying with her. Within a few seconds the group thinned out as we took our positions with the top runners from the other teams. And then the rain started.