Circle in the Sand (21 page)

It took some doing, but I’ve convinced Sage and Rose’s doctor to let her out for her
birthday. The thought of her celebrating life in a place where people go to die makes
no sense to me. And with Sage busy with her own little project, this gives me something
to keep my mind off things. Things like the results of my second HIV test that I’m
supposed to get any minute now. Or my feelings for Ned, and that he is taking me to
Band Jam at Café Tonic tonight. Or the fact that my father was supposed to be in town
last week and I never heard from him. I remind myself that all will be the way it
was meant to be.

Growing up with an onslaught of letdowns has given me two gifts. First, to comprehend
that things happen for a reason. Second, that you must accept people the way they
are—receive from them whatever they are willing to give. It may be odd that I learned
these lessons from an absentee father, but it is what it is.

A turning point came for me when Dad began dating a woman barely eighteen, about ten
years his junior. He was attractive and appeared much younger than he was. She was
afraid to tell her parents the truth about his age and the fact that he had a child,
so he couldn’t show up to her house to pick her up with me in tow.

Thirty-eight minutes doesn’t sound like a long time. But when you’re ten and standing
in front of a crappy liquor store, it’s an eternity. It wasn’t supposed to be that
long. The few times it happened before when I was visiting him, he was back in three
or four minutes. Her house was around the corner, where he’d pull into the driveway
and she’d be watching for him out the window. Then they’d come back for me, and we’d
all go to dinner or the movies. Apparently this time, her parents followed her out.
They’d had some questions for my dad. Did he plan to get a real job? What were his
intentions? Traveling with a band was a seedy lifestyle, one they weren’t sure they
could approve of for someone in their daughter’s life. They’d talked about this the
entire night.

I was a tough-enough girl that I hadn’t cried, but as the minutes ticked by, I actually
believed he wasn’t coming back. I started devising a plan for how I’d get home. I
had my lucky quarter in my left shoe. I could have called Sage or Emily. Not my mother,
I’d thought. She and grandmother didn’t need another reason to put down my father.
After a while, I walked into the store, passed up and down a few aisles. I’d never
stolen anything in my life, but I eyed the beef jerky as I planned on how I’d survive
on my own until I made it back to my house. I picked up a tall, thin beef stick, ready
to slip it in my shorts, when I saw Dad’s car pull up.

“Jax, sweetheart, we’re so sorry,” he said when I hopped in the back seat.

The strange thing was that I wasn’t mad until he’d said
we’re
instead of
I’m
. I knew even then that taking responsibility was not his strong suit. But he turned
the two of us into the three of us. It made me see I wasn’t a priority. Over time,
I came to grasp that trying to change people is a waste of energy. I had a lot more
than most, but I learned to focus it on things that made me happy in the moment. It
definitely made things a lot more fun growing up but also caused disappointment in
those close to me. So I shouldn’t be surprised that the day would come when I’m the
one disappointed in myself…in my own behavior.

I sit in the waiting room of the clinic, with the weight of the last few months bearing
down on me. Though I’m confident the results of this test will be the same as the
first, I can’t help worrying that karma might have something else in store for me.
Maybe this will be the life lesson I’ll have to learn. The thing that will finally
get me in line with a normal life. A life closer to what Emily or Sage are living.
No matter what happens, I’ll tell Ned tonight. It’s only fair that I’m as honest as
he was. And then I’ll make some serious changes.

When I walk back to the room, I let out the breath I was holding when I heard my name.
I try to read the woman’s expression as she looks at my paperwork. This lady should
not be in the medical profession. She has a deep wrinkle between her eyes and her
mouth turns down sharply, giving her a permanent pissed-off expression. She confirms
that my second, and final, test is negative. The relief has little effect on me. I
don’t know if it’s her staring at me with that scowl or that I somehow think I’ve
gotten off too easy. She doesn’t let me leave yet. It’s their policy to discuss ways
to protect yourself against HIV in the future. I don’t bother telling her this was
the one and only time I’d had unprotected sex. That even though everyone sees me as
this free-loving, irresponsible flake, I’ve actually only slept with three people.

When I get home, I notice the boys have cleaned the place spotless. Carpet is vacuumed;
clutter in the living room has disappeared; the dishes are done. They didn’t know
why I was going to the doctor, so I’m not sure what’s sparked this. There is ravioli
bowling on the stove, with Travis stirring and Brady setting four spots at the table.
I almost tear up as I watch them from the doorway. It’s as though I’ve stepped into
a sitcom of my very own little family.

“If you guys are throwing a party while I’m out, you’re both grounded.”

“Mama, you’re home,” Brady says. He gives me a long, tight hug, then says, “Gotta
piss,” and walks out.

Travis sighs, shakes his head. “Sorry. I’ll work on that.”

“It’s okay,” I say. The smell of garlic makes me smile. “Trust me, I’ve heard way
worse. So what’s going on here?”

Travis turns the flame down on the pot, then leans against the counter. His skin has
darkened with the construction work he’s done outside, and his t-shirt pulls tight
over his biceps. “I haven’t given you a dime since I moved in, and I’m making some
money now.”

“What Brady gives me is fine. It helps a lot. You need to start saving, so you can
get your own place.”

He smiles and I quickly add, “Not that I’m trying to get rid of you. Stay as long
as you want. I just figured you’d need a new beginning.”

“I do,” he says, nodding. “I’m working on it. But I would have never been able to
do any of it without you.”

“That’s not true.” I shrug, then give him a tiny grin. “I made it a little easier,
that’s all.”

“Well this is a small thank you.” He turns to stir the pot again. Pours sauce in a
new pan. “It’s the least I can do.”

I glance to the table. “But there’s four spots. Is Sage coming?”

The stereo in the living room blares on, a Red Hot Chili Pepper’s song. Travis leans
toward the open doorway. “Cut it out, Brady! I said something mellow!”

“This is!” Brady yells back.

“Dinner music, dumb ass.”

“This is what I listen to when I eat dinner.”

I laugh at their efforts, so sweet and ridiculous.

Travis relents, turns back to me. “Your friend, Ned, called. Said you didn’t answer
your cell. I invited him. Hope that’s okay.”

“Oh,” I say, not sure myself if that’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be? Except that I look
like hell and suddenly care what he thinks.

He sees my helpless expression. “I’m sorry if that was out of line. It’s just, well,
the guy hates me, so I thought maybe…”

“No, I get it. It’s totally fine. You two should get to know each other. Ned’s a little
over-protective. He’ll come around. I better change.”

I turn to leave but stop before I hit the doorway. “Wait,” he says holding a wooden
spoon in the air.

“What’s up?”

“Before you go, I need to tell you something.”

He wears the expression he had when he first arrived. The one I was beginning to forget
he owned. “Is everything okay?” I ask, studying him.

“I should have told you this sooner. It’s about me…and Sage.”

●●●

“Thanks for being nice to Travis at dinner,” I say into Ned’s ear. It’s so loud that’s
the only way we’ll hear each other. We’re sitting at the bar at Café Tonic listening
to a rock band called Crazed. It’s smoky, insanely hot, and packed mostly with people
younger than we are. But my friend, Jimmy, plays bass and I promised to come for support.

“I did it for you,” Ned says in my ear. His mouth lingers there and chills run down
the back of my neck. “I still don’t trust the guy.”

I nod in agreement, and we don’t talk for the rest of the song. I’m not sure if Ned
even enjoys this type of music, but I watch his reaction. I catch him bouncing his
knee, bobbing his head to the beat. I examine every feature on his face as if I’m
seeing them for the first time: His brown, office-guy haircut with a hint of a curl
at the end, the same dusty-blue eyes that remind me of Emily, full lips that sometimes
look frowny, until he unleashes that adorable little-boy smile. Then I have this heavy
weight against my chest that I can’t explain. I don’t understand how this is happening
between us after all this time. It didn’t happen all at once, like diving into a frigid
pool and realizing you’re gasping for air. It was a slow, subtle, submission, the
way autumn leaves turn from green to red to yellow.

“What are you doing?” I hear Ned say.

“What?” I hear now that the music has stopped. Ned must have been talking to me as
I dazedly studied his face.

“I asked you if you wanted another beer.”

Damn, why do I feel like an awkward teen on my first date? “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

When Ned disappears, Jimmy appears, standing in front of me flushed and disheveled
from his set.

“Holy crap, Jax! Can’t believe you came. What d’you think? We rocked it right? How
’bout that last song? That’s the one I told you about. The one that me and Cory wrote.
Sort of a Zeppelin feel, huh? Well?”

I’ve learned to let Jimmy get it all out before I respond. “Yeah, you guys totally
rocked it.” His ass lands swiftly in a chair, and then he scoots it even closer to
me. His hands land on my arm. He’s a toucher. “And your song was awesome. I could
hear that on the radio.”

“No shit? Man, I appreciate that.” He hugs me, kisses me on the cheek.

Ned settles in next me, setting the beers on the table.

“Hey, man. I’m Jimmy.”

The two shake hands, but I see Ned’s skeptical eye surface. The one I thought was
reserved for Travis. “Ned.”

We make small talk about the band, the bar, and then Jimmy and I talk about some mutual
friends. Ned glares at my unsuspecting buddy every time he touches my arm or hand.
Jimmy asks about Miles, another friend of ours, who took off to attend Yale, which
is extremely random among our crowd. Ned has been quiet, watching us, drinking his
beer. I tell Jimmy how Miles graduated, is making six figures, and recently engaged.

“Good things happen to good people,” Jimmy says with a fist pump.

Ned finally speaks up, “Oh, yeah. What about Anne Frank?”

I almost spit out my beer. Jimmy’s eyebrows furrow before he says, “What?”

I shake my head with a breathy laugh. “Forget it, Jimmy. Ned has a strange sense of
humor.”

“All right,” he says unconvincing. “I should probably get back.” He hugs me one last
time, shakes Ned’s hand again, and says, “Thanks for coming. It was great to see you,
Jax.”

“Take care, Jimmy. Tell the guys I said hi.”

When he’s out of earshot, I smack Ned on the arm. “Really?”

“I know you thought that was funny.”

I shake my head, but my face tells him he’s right.

Then his expression grows serious. “You want to take off?”

“Sure. Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

●●●

We end up at Ranger Station, a small park between the bar and my house, a few hundred
yards from the beach. We used to come here at night when we were in high school, bring
some liquor, swing on the swings, and talk the night away.

“C’mon,” Ned says, jumping on a swing.

I grab the one next to him and get my legs pumping, remembering how I used to stare
at the sky, waiting for a shooting star. I look over at Ned as we try to sync up our
swinging, hoping not to ruin this relationship.

Once we are going so high that my grip tightens around the chains, I laugh for no
reason.

“What?” Ned says.
             

When I don’t answer, the giggles hit him and we are both laughing into the night.
Thankfully we are the only ones in the park. The air is crisp and calm. A sense of
freedom and excitement flows into me with each gasp I take. This fit of laughter both
energizes me and gives me a release. I hadn’t been aware how serious I’d been the
last couple of months. Tears border my eyes. The wind in my face stretches and pulls
them back.

After a few moments we both settle into panting smiles. Ned slows his swing, and I
follow his lead. I hear the birds squawking out above the ocean. I stop my swing fully
and say, “Can I share something with you?”

Ned steadies his swing, repositions himself so he’s facing me. “Anything.”