Swallowing Stones (8 page)

Her mother sighed softly. “Me too,” she said.

j
enna entered her bedroom an hour later without turning on the light. She had been doing this ever since the evening she’d
noticed the boy sitting on the front steps of the church across the street. The first time she saw him from her bedroom window had been two days after her father’s death. He had been sitting on the top step, leaning back against the church doors. Jenna thought he looked familiar. But at the time she hadn’t paid much attention. Two evenings later he was there again.

At first she hadn’t been sure it was the same person. The second time she saw him, the boy had his arms wrapped around his legs, which were drawn up to his chest, and his forehead pressed against his knees. But when he finally stretched his legs forward, letting his head fall back against the door, the setting sun spilled over his face, and she knew for certain it was the same boy. She thought she recognized him from school, although she didn’t know his name. She had wondered what he was doing waiting outside the church, then decided he was probably meeting someone.

But on the evenings when he showed up—and she had counted ten so far—Jenna never saw anyone else. And when she looked out her window after dark, he would always be gone. So she really had no way of knowing if the person he was waiting for had come or not.

Tonight the streetlight cast leafy shadows on the empty stone steps of the church. If the boy had been there earlier, he had already left. Still, she had to wonder why he came.

t
he next morning Jenna sat on the deck eating an English muffin, waiting for Andrea to show up. The branches of two giant sugar maples formed a canopy overhead. They waved gently in the breeze. It was an unusually clear and cool morning for late July.

Gazing up at the branches, Jenna was suddenly reminded of her dream about the Ghost Tree. The same dream that had continued to haunt her night after night since her father’s death. She could feel the pull of the forest, the helplessness of her own body as it was dragged along by the tangled mass of vines. She hated the sensation of being out of control. It terrified her.

It was better not to think about the dream. Instead she took another bite of her muffin and thought of Jason Friedman.

And the first thing she did, when she arrived at the pool a half hour later, was look for him. But he was nowhere in sight.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here,” Andrea whispered as several of their friends crowded around them. Jenna hugged those she hadn’t seen since the funeral, glad to see them. She felt, at least for the moment, as if nothing had changed. Although she didn’t try to kid herself.

Then she unfolded her beach towel and sat down. She had just begun to smear suntan lotion on her arms when she saw Jason coming toward her. He seemed to have gotten taller since she’d last seen him, and a little thinner. But he still had the same impish face, though his usual grin was absent at the moment. He sat down on the grass next to her and put his arm around her shoulder, then let it drop. The half hug was awkward, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.

“I’m really sorry about what happened to your dad,” he said. “I just found out this morning. We didn’t get home till late last night. I called your house a little while ago, but nobody answered. I guess
you’d
already left.”

Jenna only nodded. She couldn’t seem to speak.

“Jeez, I feel rotten.” He reached for her hand. “I should have been here with you.”

Something odd was happening. Her heart was racing furiously, and not in the way it used to when she was near Jason. This was entirely different. The pounding was so intense it filled her ears and blocked out all other sounds.

When she still didn’t say anything, Jason put his hand on her shoulder, tilting his head so that he could look directly into her face. “I feel like I’ve really let you down. I’m sorry.”

Jenna shook her head, trying to reassure him. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.” She found herself struggling to take a breath.

“It must be tough.”

“It is.” The words poured out on a whispered rush of trapped air. Jenna gasped, then took a deep breath.

Andrea, who had been listening to every word, leaned forward and tapped her arm. “Are you okay?”

“It’s the heat,” Jenna said. She stood up and nodded
toward the water. “I’m going in.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Andrea and Jason exchange concerned looks.

She sat down on the edge of the pool and let her feet dangle in the cool water, hoping neither Andrea nor Jason would follow her. She closed her eyes and took deep swallows of air. With each breath, the smell of chlorine stung her nose.

When she opened her eyes, she thought she caught one of the lifeguards on the other side of the pool watching her, although it was difficult to tell since he was wearing sunglasses. Something about him seemed familiar.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jenna felt a hand on her shoulder as Andrea sat down beside her.

“I’m sure. It’s the heat, that’s all.” Jenna was still studying the lifeguard.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Andrea said.

“Who?”

“The lifeguard you’re staring at.”

“I wasn’t staring at him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were.”

Jenna turned to her friend. Andrea was kicking at the water with her feet and watching the lifeguard. She hadn’t shown any interest in anyone since Tony Coletti had broken up with her four months ago, and Jenna had begun to think her friend had sworn off boys permanently. It was good to see Andrea interested in someone again.

“Who is he, do you know?”

“His name is Michael MacKenzie. He’s going to be a senior. And he’s a jock … a big track star at school.”

“He sounds a little too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

Andrea slid into the pool and rested her arms on the edge. “Well, there is this one tiny problem.”

“Which is?”

“He’s got a girlfriend.” She tilted her head in the direction of a group of kids playing cards beneath a nearby tree. “She’s the one with the long red hair. Her name’s Darcy Kelly.”

“You call that a tiny problem?”

Andrea pursed her lips. “Okay, big problem.”

Jenna squinted to get a better look at Michael MacKenzie. His lips and nose were covered with white ointment, and the metallic glint of his sunglasses completely hid his eyes. He probably hadn’t been watching her at all before, she thought. She’d only imagined it. He was just doing his job, keeping a sharp eye on all the swimmers. Still, there was something about him …

w
hen she got home that afternoon, Jenna made her daily call to Chief Zelenski. She’d been doing this for two weeks now, sometimes calling twice a day, hoping for information. But this time he wasn’t in when she called.

Disappointed, she left a message, then headed up to her room to work on math problems. She had just started on the first equation when Jason called.

“Can I see you tonight?” he asked.

Jenna, silent, held the cordless phone a few inches away from her face and stared at it. Something was terribly wrong. Her hand was shaking so badly that the phone had been tapping the side of her head.

“Jen?”

She put the phone as close to her ear as she dared. Her heart was racing so fast she couldn’t catch her breath. It was happening again. Just as it had at the pool earlier. Only this was worse.

“What?” She barely managed to get the word out.

“Uh, is this a bad time? I mean, do you want me to call back later?”

She tried to remember what her drama teacher at school had taught her about controlling stage fright. Because that was what this felt like, only ten times more severe. And she couldn’t for the life of her imagine what was causing it.
Breathe
, she told herself.
Long
,
deep breaths. Focus
.

“Hey! You still there?” Jason was beginning to sound alarmed.

“Yes. Sorry.”
Breathe, Jen. Breathe
. “Tonight?”

“Is that okay? I mean, that’s all I thought about the whole time I was in Maine. You know? Seeing you.”

Jenna walked over to the window, concentrating on her breathing the entire time. Outside, the late-afternoon sun bathed the front of the church across the street in a soft glow. That was when she saw the boy mounting the steps of the church and taking his place in front of the door. This was the earliest she had ever seen him there. Then, for the first time, she realized he was staring over at her house. A slight shiver ran along her spine.

“I wanted to ask you at the pool,” Jason was saying, “but we didn’t get much of a chance to be alone.”

“Tonight’s fine,” she told him, because she could think of no reason not to see him.

“Seven? Maybe we can catch a movie at the mall.”

She shifted the phone to her other hand and wiped her sweaty palm on her shorts. All the while she continued to focus on her breathing. “Okay … well, then … see you.”

Relieved to have the awkward conversation over, Jenna hung up the phone. Then she turned her attention back to the
boy across the street. She thought he looked like the lifeguard from the pool, but she couldn’t be absolutely sure.

The boy was no longer staring at her house. He had curled himself into the same position she had seen him in many times. And each time he did, she was reminded of the hermit crabs, curling into their scavenged shells, that she sometimes found along the Nantucket beach, near the Wards’ summer rental.

She could not have said why, but something deep inside her seemed to sense his pain. That was why she stood, her forehead pressed against the window screen, watching over the boy until she heard her mother’s car in the driveway.

m
eredith Ward came through the back door balancing two bags of groceries and her briefcase. Without a word, Jenna grabbed one of the bags and set it on the counter.

Her mother began putting away the groceries, all the while grumbling about one of her clients.

“That Porter woman at Fennel is going to drive me into an early grave,” she announced, slamming two cans of soup onto one of the cabinet shelves. Then, as if she suddenly realized her unfortunate choice of words, she rested her palms on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. “Sorry. Bad day.”

Jenna knew the Fennel department store chain was one of her mother’s biggest accounts. “Want me to fix dinner?” she asked. Usually she wasn’t this accommodating. But her mother looked thoroughly exhausted. Besides, she wanted to get dinner over with as soon as possible so that she’d have enough time to take a shower before Jason showed up.

“Oh, would you?” Her mother seemed grateful. “I’d love to take a few laps in the pool and cool off.” Then she laughed. “I guess you can tell I need cooling off.”

Her mother went upstairs and returned wearing her bathing suit and carrying a towel. “Make it something light, okay?” she said. “I’m not really all that hungry.”

From the kitchen window, Jenna watched as her mother stepped onto the diving board. Meredith Ward was an excellent swimmer, and probably the most graceful diver Jenna had ever seen. She barely made a splash when she hit the water.

After a few minutes Jenna turned her attention to dinner. What could she make that was light? She began to rummage through the refrigerator. She finally decided on a simple salad and some yogurt with fruit and granola mixed in.

She was adding fresh strawberries to the yogurt when her mother, towel wrapped around her wet hair, came into the kitchen. “I needed that,” she said. “There is absolutely nothing like a few laps across the pool to work out a little tension.” She lifted her shoulders up to her ears a few times, then tipped her head first to the right, then to the left, stretching her muscles.

Her mother glanced at the table. “That salad looks terrific.” She reached into the cupboard for two glasses. “I’ll pour us some iced tea.”

Jenna finished stirring the strawberries into the yogurt. When she turned to set the bowl on the table, she realized her mother was still standing in front of the refrigerator. The glasses sat empty on the counter.

“Mom?”

Meredith Ward was staring at something on the refrigerator door. She lifted her hand as if it were made of concrete and pressed it against a sheet of paper.

Jenna looked over her mother’s shoulder. The door was plastered with photos, dentist and doctor appointment cards, lists, cartoons, and various clutter all held in place by an assortment of magnets. She saw that her mother’s hand was resting
on a sheet of lined notepaper. Jenna recognized her father’s “Honey Do” list.

“Who crossed this off?” Her mother’s voice was barely audible.

“Crossed what off?” But Jenna knew she was talking about the first item on the list:
PATCH LEAK IN ROOF
. She wanted to snatch the paper from the door and tear it into a thousand pieces.

A deep, gut-wrenching moan came from her mother. It was so sudden and so startling that Jenna could only close her eyes and press her lips tightly together. And for one agonizing moment the cry felt as if it were coming from her own body.

When she opened her eyes, she saw her mother standing with her forehead against the refrigerator door, her hand still on the list, shaking with convulsive sobs. Jenna put her arms around her and led her to a chair.

Then, because she needed to be doing something, she poured two glasses of iced tea and set one in front of her mother along with a box of Kleenex.

Meredith had stopped crying. She grabbed a handful of tissues and blew her nose. “It’s strange, isn’t it? That list has been there for weeks. I’ve been in and out of the refrigerator a hundred times since that day, but I never even noticed. Then, suddenly, there it is, staring me right in the face.”

Jenna wished she had thrown the list away that same morning she had crossed off the first chore. “I’ll clean off the fridge for you, okay? There’s a lot of old junk stuck up there.”

“Sometimes these things just catch me off guard.” Her mother wiped her eyes with the wad of tissues. “The other day I was rummaging in the medicine cabinet for the Visine—I hate going around with my eyes all red—and there was this stuff that was supposed to make his hair grow … he was so worried
about losing his hair. I just stood there holding that bottle, and suddenly I burst into tears.”