A Sea Change (11 page)

The last one was the hardest. He sounded great and had such a good sense of humor. He liked baseball and animals. Told me he was “easy on the eyes,” and every time he called he’d just gotten back from the gym. (I’m not sure what he did there, but I seriously doubt it was anything athletic.) So, when this pear-shaped, piggy-eyed man walked into the Starbucks wearing a graying Star Trek t-shirt and jeans he couldn’t get up over his stomach, and introduced himself as Dave, I’m pretty sure the look on my face told the whole story. He was actually very sweet, but I knew that at some point during that hour I’d have to tell him we wouldn’t be seeing each other again.

I skirted my way around it until he finally said, “There’s nothing you can say that’ll hurt me,” and I looked straight at him and said, “But there is. Any rejection hurts. I know that first hand.”

Anyway, I apologized, and we went our separate ways. But as I drove home I felt like crying because I realized it had hurt me to hurt him. And that’s when I deleted my profile.

I was telling Karen all this when she came up with Mr. Perfect. I called her up tonight and waited for her to ask me how the date went. She goes, “So, did you have fun?” And I replied, “My last dental appointment was more fun, Karen. At least I couldn’t feel anything while they were torturing me.” I made her swear on everything that’s sacred she’d never do this to me again. Then I said something even I can’t believe: “Enough’s enough. I’d rather be alone.”

So, I’ll invest in a really good vibrator and life will go on.

My photography has suffered because of all this. I’ve taken a few more rolls of black-and-white, but I can’t do any printing without a darkroom, and can’t afford to rent time in one. Have seen my little singing mermaid only a couple of times. Once, she was collecting sea shells along the beach that connects Jaed’s house with Nick’s. She waved, but I had my arms full of grocery bags, so I just smiled and said hi. Don’t know who she belongs to, but since she’s seldom around I figure her folks are weekend residents. If I ever get around to printing those shots of her, I’ll try to find them.

Have spent quite a bit of time with my big mermaid, though. I seem to end up at Mary’s place once a week. I think she gets a little frustrated with me because I won’t talk about a lot of things in my life.

She asked about my family. “Why aren’t they here to help you through this?” I made excuses for Mom and Dad, but couldn’t tell her the truth: that since Danny’s exile, there’s a wall up between us. While I was still home, Danny was our secret; our elephant in the room. The thing we never mentioned to anyone. Even ourselves.

And I never mention Nick to Mary. He’s kinda that elephant, too. I always tell her about my latest adventure in dating, and we talk about gardening. She’s shown me how to use the potter’s wheel, and has been giving me a running history of Salmon Beach. Once, I asked if she had children. She said “a daughter” and left it at that. I haven’t brought up my photography, but it’s time. Mary would make a beautiful subject.

She makes me feel safe, the way Mom used to when I was very little. When I told her that, she took me in her arms and held me for a really long time.

The only other news I have to report is my car was broken into a few weeks ago. Well, to be honest, it wasn’t locked. Whoever did it must’ve been desperately hungry. I’d left a bag of oranges on the back seat, intending to bring it down the next time I had to go out. That’s all they took. I think they went through the glove box, too, but I don’t keep anything important there. Just some old photos, Jaed’s business cards, and the Volvo manual. I guess I should’ve reported it to someone. It’s probably the vagrant everyone’s concerned about. Not in the sense of being afraid, though. Typical of the beach, their worry is for the man himself. I heard Emily DeMille tell Rita she was leaving food out on purpose – just for him. “The poor, lost soul.”

I keep forgetting to tell Nick about the stuff missing from my car. It’d be a good opening, but what would be the point? If he were ready to be friends wouldn’t he have made the first move by now?

Besides, after last night’s little
mise en scène
at The Ram, who knows what he’s thinking.

I know
I
was contemplating murder-suicide.

Chapter
Eleven

Nick watched Becky as she slept. The five days in Phoenix had left her exhausted, happy, and a golden brown. Nick, on the other hand, had a bad case of the blues. Being with his family had been a good thing, but he spent the entire visit feeling somehow incomplete.

The cabin lights dimmed on the Alaska Airlines 737. It was the final flight to Seattle and First Class was nearly empty. Nick could hear the woman seated behind him working on her laptop computer. Across the aisle a sleeping couple held hands - honeymooners returning from South of The Border. They’d given the flight attendant a detailed description of their suite which, from the sound of things, they’d never left.

Becky changed positions in the wide leather seat and snuggled closer to Nick. He pulled the blanket back over her and smoothed a few strands of hair from her forehead. His arm rested lightly on hers.

He didn’t want this flight to end. Janet would be waiting at SeaTac Airport to take Becky away again. And he’d have to face the long drive to Tacoma alone. Even worse would be that empty house.

Nick took a deep breath and turned to the window. The surreal silver landscape afforded by the full moon and total cloud cover below the plane was eerie, as if it had snowed at 20,000 feet. They were passing Mount Rainier. In the moon’s shadow it huddled like a giant prehistoric creature shrouded in smoke. He thought about waking Becky, but she was so peaceful he simply kissed the top of her head.

Unrelenting shades of gray were relieved by the occasional gap in the clouds. Through the black holes, colored lights flickered on the ground. The captain announced they’d begun their descent, and for a few moments Nick saw nothing but a sooty miasma. When the plane broke through he tried to pick out landmarks. The Narrows Bridge slipped beneath them. Nick could make out the amber lights along the staircase at Salmon Beach and then it, too, disappeared. Five more minutes and he could see the runway lights.

“Becky. Sweetie, wake up.”

She slowly lifted her head and drowsily asked, “Are we there yet?”

“Almost.” Nick helped her sit up. “Let’s brush your hair.” As Becky unzipped her tiny backpack, he held out his hand.

“I can do it, Daddy.”

He smiled. “Sorry. I keep forgetting how big you are.” When she finished, Nick took her hand in his. “We should’ve taken that nail polish off. Your mom’s gonna have my…She’ll have a fit.”

“I like it.”

“I know you do. But Mom isn’t going to understand green nails.” He paused. “Actually, Becks,
I
don’t understand green nails.”

The jet gently bumped the runway and the engines roared, making further discussion impossible.

Nick let Becky run ahead, into her mother’s arms. Janet kissed her daughter, then looked up at Nick and stated, “You’re twenty minutes late.”

“You’ll have to talk to the pilot about that, Janet.” He handed her a plastic bag. “Oranges from Kay’s tree.”

Janet said, “Thank her for me,” and they began the trek to baggage claim.

Nick waited until Becky was out of earshot, then said, “You’ve got a phone. Do it yourself.” He picked up his pace.

Janet caught up with him. “You let her get too much sun.”

“Janet? She went through two tubes of sunscreen. I can’t help it if she takes after me.”

They stopped near the luggage carousel while Becky trotted around to the front to watch the bags come down the slide.

“And why did you take such a late flight?”

“To piss you off. Looks like it worked.”

“You are
such
an asshole.”

He was an explosion waiting to detonate. And he wanted to.
God,
how he wanted to. But there was Becky, looking back at them, smiling. Nick exhaled, then said, “Can we not do this? You know I took the last flight so I could spend as much time with her as possible.” Their luggage came down the chute and Nick quickly moved to grab it.

He stowed Becky’s small suitcase on the back seat of Janet’s new Lexus and waited as she got in the driver’s side. Then he knelt in front of Becky and gathered her to him.

“I’ll miss you, sweetie,” he whispered. “I had a great time.”

“Me, too.” She kissed his neck. “Don’t be sad, Daddy.”

“Okay. I’ll try.” Janet pointedly started the car. “I love you, Becks.” He grinned. “Green nails and all.”

 Nick rode up the elevator to the seventh floor of the parking garage alone. His boots echoed on the cement as he slowly walked to the far corner. As the truck idled, he hugged the steering wheel, put his head down on his arms, and wondered how he was going to get past this depression that had now settled over him like a thick, heavy blanket. With a sigh, he finally put the truck in reverse.

Even at midnight, the freeway was busy. Where were all these people going this late? And in such a frigging hurry? Cars passed him doing well over 80 m.p.h. He could remember a time when after 11 p.m. meant you pretty much had the highways to yourself.

Nick rolled down the window and let the cool night air bathe his face. What a difference from Phoenix, where the temperature at takeoff had been in the low 90’s.

He pictured Becky doing a cannonball into his sister’s pool, her cousins following suit. It was the last night of their visit. Kay had managed to stay out of his personal life for three whole days, which was two days and twenty-three hours too long as far as she was concerned. Much too long for Kay, and Nick knew it was killing her. Pleading a backlog of work, Tom disappeared into his study fairly early, but Nick guessed his sister had planned the whole thing.

He and Kay, soaked from the backsplash the kids were making, moved their chairs farther away from the pool. Two of Kay’s deadly Margaritas later, Nick had begun talking with the feeling he’d never be able to stop. His sister didn’t even have to prod him. She just sat back in stunned silence and let him ramble on and on about life without Becky; his almost obsessive hatred of Jim Kingston.

Sure, there were momentary sappy lapses into nostalgia – of an especially memorable game, or manager, or player. And those little tales would fuel his loathing for Janet’s husband all the more until Kay finally held up her hands in surrender, and said, “Whoa, Nicky! When are you going to let this go?”

“Why should I? Look what he did to me.”

“It’s been nearly two years, Nick.”

“Two years of hell, Kay.” He emptied the pitcher into his glass. “And before that…” His voice drifted off as his eyes followed Becky to the diving board. He could feel Kay looking at him, waiting for him to finish his thought, and he suddenly focused on his sister. “I bet you figured they didn’t start seeing each other until he was traded to the M’s.”

Kay’s eyes widened.

“Yeah,” he snorted. “He was still with Oakland.”

“That’s impossible.”

Nick shook his head. “It was easy, believe me. Spring training. Different schedules. Becky’s in school. He did her right under my nose, in my own bed. It took me a while to put it all together, but Janet finally copped to it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why have you kept this inside for so long?”

“Oh, right. Like that was something I wanted to broadcast to friends and family.” Kay narrowed her eyes, and he hurriedly added, “I’m not saying you’d tell everyone. I’m just saying it was – it is – embarrassing. Okay?”

Satisfied with his apology, Kay stated, “Nick, you were never happy with her. It shouldn’t matter now.”

“That’s not all, Kay, and you know it.”

“I’m almost afraid to say this to you, Nicky…”

“What? That I’m delusional? That I’m paranoid?” He polished off the last of his drink. The bottom of the stemmed glass broke off as he slammed it onto the tiled tabletop. “It was a
practice
game, Kay. He came into home plate like a fucking fullback and slammed me so hard I ended up against the backstop. And my life was over. Just like that.”

Kay reached for his right hand and turned it over. “You’re bleeding.”

Nick picked up a paper napkin and pressed it against his palm.

“Your life isn’t over, Nick. And it wasn’t a conspiracy. Even Janet isn’t that crazy.”

He went on, as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Y’know, that piece of slime actually had the balls to visit me in the hospital? And didn’t the press just love
that.
He got more publicity for finishing me off than I got in my entire career.” Nick finally looked at his sister. “He’s six years younger than me, Kay. He’s still playing ball. I’ve got nothing.”

“God, Nick.” A smile played on her lips. “You’re such a
guy.
”

“You think this is funny?”

“I think you’re tanked. I also think self-pity doesn’t become you.” Kay watched the muscle in her brother’s jaw tighten. “Well, listen to yourself! ‘I’ve got nothing’,” she mimicked. “If you’ve got nothing, it’s because you choose to have nothing.”

“Okay, fine,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m glad you finally agree with me.”

Nick glared at his sister.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” Kay said. “Let’s pretend this is Thanksgiving and it’s your turn to tell the family what you’re thankful for.”

He continued his stony stare.

“All right,” Kay continued. “Why don’t I do it for you.”

He folded his arms tightly across his chest.

“First of all, you have a beautiful, healthy, intelligent daughter who loves you very much. Second, your shoulder is almost as good as new. You kicked a fairly nasty chemical dependency. Mom worships the water you walk on.”

His mouth twitched.

“Dad isn’t happy unless he can inject the phrase, ‘My son, Patrick McKay’ in any given conversation.”

Nick rolled his eyes, and Kay went on.

“Let’s see? What else?”

“How about, women flock to my door begging me for sex,” Nick interrupted. “And I have a sister who’s in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘The Most Bullshit Ever Shoveled in the Shortest Period of Time.’”

“Well, now that you bring it up, I
was
wondering if you’ve met anyone yet.”

Nick groaned, then said, “Make another pitcher and I’ll tell you.”

“I think your jaw is lubricated enough. Spill it, or I tell Dad what
really
set off the sprinkler system at your graduation.”

He feigned shock. “You’re a hard woman, Katherine Rose Gillespie.”

“Give it up, Nicholas Patrick McKay. And it better be good.”

“You know it’s tough for me to talk about this stuff.”

“I know. But I give great insight.”

Nick ruefully smiled at his sister. “There’s someone – this woman … God, how do I put this?” He took a short breath. “It was lust at first sight. For both of us. I did a really stupid thing. Slept with her after I’d known her about an hour.” His sister’s left eyebrow went up, and he quickly added, “Hey, it just seemed right at the time, okay?”

“Did I say anything?”

“You didn’t have to.” He paused. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“Come on, Nicky.”

He shook his head and pushed back the chair to get up.

Kay stared at him a moment, then said, “Okay, Nick. Y’know, you used to have a sense of humor. And you had this – I don’t know – zest for life that was contagious. You were a fun guy.”

“And your point is?”

“I miss the old Nick. The one who’d say or do anything if it meant a good time. It used to be tough to shut you up. I’d pay big money to have that Nick back.”