I’ll Become the Sea (3 page)

“So he’s hot, right? This David?” Sarah sprawled on the floor of Jane’s apartment, splitting an Oreo and licking the cream side like a cat. “Tell me everything.”

“I never said he was hot.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Right. Just tall, I heard that part. Blue eyes. What else?”

“He’s just…He was really kind, that’s all. Really nice to Raymond and very welcoming to me. I’m just glad Raymond’s getting this chance.”

“Really, very?” Sarah crammed the cookie into her mouth.

“Shut up.”

“What? You’re not allowed to think a guy is cute? You’re engaged, darling, not dead.”

“Well…” Jane dropped down to the floor, reached for the Oreo box. “He is kind of…powerful. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Sarah held back a smile. “So you’re going to tutor Raymond there?”

“Looks like it. Anyway we’ll try it for a few weeks, see what happens.”

“What are you planning for over the summer? Will you still meet up with him, keep up the teaching?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean, I’ll take some time off. I have to go see my mom at some point, maybe I’ll take a little vacation…”

“How is your mom?”

Jane sighed, leaning back against the sofa. “She’s okay, I guess. Getting ready for the parole hearing. She’s totally convinced he’s getting out.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“I don’t know. She thinks it is. She’s lonely. She says she misses him. She says he’s changed.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. He goes to meetings. He hasn’t had a drink in twelve years.”

“I don’t recall hearing that they serve alcohol in prison.”

“I know that. But maybe he’s learned to live without it. Maybe he’s better now. He’s been in therapy.”

“So he can put it on his record! You know he doesn’t take it seriously.”

“Maybe.” Jane looked down at her fingers. They were damp and suddenly cold. She stood up to make some tea.

“They don’t still want you to go to the hearing, do they? What do they want, for you to testify?”

Jane went to the sink in the attached kitchen, stalling while the water ran into the teakettle.

“Jane?”

She looked up and saw Sarah standing in front of her, on the other side of the counter. “Yes. They want me to attend the hearing. We’re not allowed to speak, though. Only the victim’s family.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

“But they want me to…”

“What?”

“They want me to write a letter, to go in his file, saying they should let him out. And they want me to call the man’s wife.”

“Are you kidding me? And say what?”

“They want me to tell her…to convince her…”

“Convince her of what? That he didn’t kill her husband?”

“That…that he’s changed. He’s better. He’s not…”

“You’re not going to do it, are you?”

“I…I have to.”

“Jane.”

“No, listen. I have to do it. They’re counting on me. Mom…begged me. I can’t say no to her. She doesn’t have anybody, Sarah. She’s all alone.”

“She has you.”

Jane shook her head. “It’s not enough.”

Sarah went to her, took the teakettle out of her hands.

“Oh, honey.”

*  *  *

Raymond sat at the table with his hands pressed to his forehead. His elbows held open the book in front of him. “I like this one.”

“Oh, yeah? How come?”

“It’s just like me and my grandma.”

“How is that?” Jane put her hand over the book to signal a break from reading.

“Well, like she taught me to walk and everything.”

“She did?”

“Yup.”

“You remember?”

“Nah, I don’t remember. I just heard is all. My auntie told me. She said I used to go all around the house holding on to things like the couch and the table. Like my legs could walk and everything but my mind didn’t want to let go. So my grandma, she took me out in the park. In the grass, where it would be soft? And she held me up and then she just let go my hands and walked backward until I started following her. And then before I knew it I was walking.”

“Wow. That’s cool.”

“I know. Like she made me be brave and everything.”

“You’re lucky, Raymond. Having a grandma like that.”

“I know.”

“You want to read the rest of the story?”

“Sure. Here comes Mr. Casey, though.”

She saw him through a window in the classroom door. He had found a place for her and Raymond at the back of the center. A room they used for one-on-one instruction, which he arranged to clear out for her twice a week. It was private and quiet, a safe haven from the stress and tedium of their usual classroom.

“Mr. Casey.” She rose.

“Hello, Ms. Elliott.”

She took his warm hand in hers. The sheer size and energy of his body shook her sense of balance. She steeled her spine against the ridiculous impulse to sway. When he turned his attention to Raymond, relief flooded through her and she sat down.

“Hey there, kid.”

Raymond smiled up at him. “Hey. We’re reading a book.”

David glanced down. “Ah. That’s a good one. Does it make you think of your grandma?”

“Yeah!” Raymond beamed. “I was just telling Ms. Elliott.”

Jane sat down, gesturing for David to sit too. “She taught him how to walk. Did you know that?”

“No. I didn’t know. That’s funny, though, because my grandma taught me how to play baseball.”

Raymond looked dubious. “Really?”

“Really. She was from New York. Loved the Dodgers when she was a little girl, when they were a Brooklyn team. She knows everything there is to know about playing. Started teaching me when I was five.”

“You any good?”

“Yeah. I’m not too bad. How about you? You any good at walking?”

Raymond stared for a minute, then laughed, flicking his pencil at David across the table.

David caught it with his hand, picked it up, placed it squarely next to the book in front of Raymond. “Back to work, you two. Just thought I’d drop in to say hi.” He stood up.

“Hi.” Jane lifted her face to smile at him. “Bye.”

He grinned in return. “See you.”

He went back out to the hall. When the door shut, Jane brought her hand to her cheek and tried to ignore the way it was suddenly burning.

At the end of their two hours, she packed her books and led Raymond out to the foyer to meet his grandmother. The older woman was waiting by the front desk.

“Mrs. Johnson! How are you?” Jane reached out her hand.

“Hello, Ms. Elliott.” She held Jane’s palm for a moment in her gloved fingers. “How’s everything?”

“Great. Raymond has a book to read to you tonight. A good one.”

Mrs. Johnson turned to her grandson, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Do you now?”

He grinned at her.

“Let’s head on home, son. I have a chicken in the oven.” She nodded to Jane. “He’s doing all right?”

“Just fine. I’ll take the elevator down with you.”

She opened the door, moving aside to let them through, and spotted David in the doorway of his office. She gave a small wave and hurried out. Before he could see the color rise up and spread over her face.

“Ms. Elliott?”

She turned, facing into a swath of light from a parking lot lamp. She raised a hand to shield her eyes. “Hello?”

He stepped closer, into the glare, blocking out the brightness so she could see. Around him floated an absurdly pretty cascade of new snowflakes.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t recognize you. How are you, Mr. Casey?”

Blinking, she looked up into his face. His eyes were bright in the sharp synthetic light.

“Good. Grocery shopping. Laying in for this crazy snowstorm. What happened to spring? And call me David, by the way.”

“David. And you can call me Jane.”

“Okay then. Nice to see you again, Jane.”

He extended his hand, shifting to the side. For a moment her face was flooded again with lamplight and she couldn’t see him. She had the strange impression of being alone with him on a sea of ice, everything gone but the two of them. He grasped her hand and she felt the heat and light course through her, unsettling her balance. Then he stepped back, blocking the lamp again. She stood there for a moment, dazed.

“So,” she managed, “how do you think Raymond is doing?”

“Great. Settling in. I think he’ll do just fine.”

“I hope so.” She shivered a little and wrapped her arms around herself. “I didn’t dress warmly enough.”

“Would you like to get a coffee and warm up? We’ll uh…” He looked up at the darkening gray sky, clearing his throat. “We’ll be snowed in soon. I’m not ready to go home.”

She should say no. No was the obvious answer. She should make an excuse and say goodnight immediately.

“Yeah, let’s. That sounds nice.”

The town’s only decent café beckoned from across the parking lot. They walked to it through a thin layer of gathering snow. Inside, Jane took brief refuge at the counter, placing their orders while David found a table.

“Do you…um…live near here?” she asked as she joined him, setting their coffees down. “I got a scone too. Want some?”

“Thanks.” He broke off a piece, tossed it in his mouth. “Not far. Down by the water. Ocean Avenue.”

She smiled for the first time without thinking. “It’s beautiful there. In Avon? I must pass you on my way to work every day. I take my bike along the boardwalk.”

“You must freeze in weather like this.”

“It’s not too bad. I bundle up.”

Across the table, he held his black coffee in one loose hand. A trace of beard underscored the blue of his eyes. His hair was a deep, warm brown, his shoulders broad under a navy wool sweater. His gaze on her was steady, taking her in—her face, the shape of her body, and finally, the small diamond ring on her finger.

“You and your fiancé. Do you live together in Belmar?”

“No. Ben’s away for a few months, in L.A. Working on a film, a documentary. He lives in his own apartment, though, in Point Pleasant. We might move into a new place when he gets back, but maybe not. He likes having his own space.”

“I guess that makes sense. What’s he going to do when you get married though?”

“When we’re married?”

A small voice in her head said
if
. Surprised, she pushed it away. “I suppose he’ll get used to having a roommate.” She reached for her coffee. “How about you? Do you live with anyone?”

His hand rested on the table, quiet, motionless and unambiguously strong.

“No. I live alone. Me and Karl Marx, my goldfish.”

“Quite a name.”

“He’s very disgruntled.”

Her laugh was genuine, surprising her.

“What are you going to do tonight in all this snow?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Read, maybe. I bought some music today. Maybe I’ll just turn off the lights and listen.”

“What did you buy?”

She confessed her love of punk and metal, bracing for the inevitable dismissive chuckle. Instead, he brightened.

“I play guitar.” He reached for another hunk of her scone. “You might know a few of the songs my band covers if you like that kind of music.”

“You have a band?”

“You could call it that. It’s really just a couple of guys who play together for fun, but we do some shows around the area sometimes. You should come hear us play.”

“That would be nice.” She looked out the window and saw the growing speed of the snow. “We’d better get going, though.”

He glanced outside while she took a last sip of her coffee. “Guess you’re right.”

She felt him watching her. She knew she should rise and start putting on her coat, but she couldn’t seem to talk herself into it. “Too bad we don’t have more time.”

“Yeah. It is too bad.” He stayed in his seat.

She reached for her gloves, rising, trying to hide her blush behind the business of dressing and leaving. She finished before he did and stood, hot in the steam of the coffee shop, left with nothing to do but watch him fasten the buttons on his coat. His careful grace in this mindless act stoked something inside her. She headed for the door.

He rose to follow her. Outside, thick flakes of snow whipped into their faces. David’s truck was already draped in white.

She turned to say goodbye. The motion tipped her balance and she slipped, her boot losing contact with a slick track of ice hidden under the snow. David reached out by reflex to steady her. She held his arm for a moment, then backed away.

“I’d love to see one of your shows sometime.”

“Great.”

His truck was a few rows away, but he didn’t move. She stood beside him on the sidewalk, waiting for him to say goodbye.

“Well. I guess I’ll be seeing you then. You’re walking home? I can give you a ride.”

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s just a few blocks.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay.” She patted the small grocery bag at her side. “I don’t have much to carry, and it’s really only a few blocks. Thanks, though.”

“Okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

He smiled and turned toward his car.

“David?”

“Yes?”

“How will I know when you’re playing?”

“I’ll call you. If that’s okay. I have your number from Raymond’s referral.”

“Right. Okay. I’ll talk to you soon then.”

“Okay.”

She gave him a salute and headed toward the street. To keep herself from looking back, she counted the steps to the sidewalk.

The walk home was harrowing in the snow, and she told herself she deserved it. Innocent as it was, she shouldn’t have been spending time with a man she was clearly attracted to.

There was no use denying it. David was gorgeous. Most likely he was bored, restless from the coming storm and glad for a diversion. Nothing more than that. Even so, she could still feel his hand on her arm in the parking lot, the way he had held her when she’d nearly fallen on the ice.

She thought of Ben, wondering what he was doing this afternoon. It was still early in California, probably sunny and seventy-five degrees. She sighed. Perhaps if she talked to him, made some kind of connection, she could get her head on straight.

Nudging open the door, grocery bag in hand, she saw the light on her answering machine blinking. She lowered the bags and pressed play.

“Janie, it’s me.”

She sat down at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but somebody has to talk some sense into you. You have to decide. It’s not like it’s going to affect you one way or the other. You have to stop thinking about yourself.”

Jane closed her eyes.

“I don’t like to bring this up, but you are the one…Well, you know how I feel about that. I think you owe him this. You owe it to me.” Her voice started to break. “I’m all alone, Jane. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t get out. I just…I’ll have to do something. Oh, hell. Forget I said that. Just call me.”

She heard the beep and sat there for a few moments, staring at the floor. She picked up the phone and dialed. Ben answered on the fifth ring.

“Hey, Jane.”

She smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. You sound busy.”

“Yeah, I’m buried here. There’s already fifty hours of footage to go through. Just trying to organize some of it before we get to the family interviews.”

“How’s it going?”

“Slow.”

“You want to talk later?”

He hesitated. “I would, but I have plans later. I’m grabbing a drink with Ana, then a movie if it’s not too late.”

“Oh.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Of course not.”

“I need a break, Jane. I’m working fourteen hour days here.”

“I didn’t say anything. I’m glad you’re going out.” She did her best to sound convincing. “It’s just…I wanted to talk to you. I miss you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little wired. It’s snowing here. Can you believe it? And my mother just called.”

“Oh?”

Jane heard the soft clack of keys on the keyboard. She breathed out once, stood up, walked to the window to watch the snow. She was silent for a minute, listening to him trying to type without being heard.

“Why don’t you call me tomorrow? When you’re not so busy.”

He stopped. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“All right. It’ll have to be late. I’m scouting locations in the morning with Ana, and then back in edit the rest of the day.”

“You’re scouting locations with Ana.”

She almost heard him bristle across the line, three thousand miles away.

“Yes. She’s my assistant. She helps me scout locations.”

She took a deep breath. This conversation was both ancient and exhausting. No one told Ben what to do with his time. It was something she’d always respected about him. Anyway, he was right; Ana was his coworker. He had every right to spend time with her.

“I’m sorry, Ben. I’m just feeling down. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. Good luck with everything. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Jane…”

“Goodbye, Ben. Have fun tonight.”

She held the phone for a moment, then hung up.

*  *  *

She would think about it later. About her mother, about Ben. Right now, all she wanted to do was clear her head.

She went to the kitchen and put away the groceries. She rummaged through her cabinets for flour, sugar, chocolate chips, following an old recipe from memory. She wrapped herself in blankets on the sofa, putting on the TV, balancing a plate of hot cookies and a cup of milk on her lap. She was licking crumbs off her arm when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Jane? This is David.”

“David?”

“Yes, uh, David Casey.”

“Oh, yes. I know who. I’m just…surprised to hear from you.” She sat up from the couch, quickly, as if he could see her. With her free hand, she smoothed down her hair.

“I hope…um…I’m not disturbing you.” His low voice thrummed through her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“No, no. Not at all. How are you? The snow’s terrible, isn’t it?” She turned to push aside the curtain beside the couch. “I can barely see out the window.”

“Yeah, it’s bad. I think we’ll have a snow day tomorrow.”

“Really?” She couldn’t contain the glee in her voice.

“What? You won’t miss the chance to educate a young mind?”

“Are you kidding me? I have seven seasons of Buffy to watch and a bowl full of cookie dough in the fridge. Please. I hope it snows all week.”

She cradled the phone against her shoulder, leaning back again into the cushions and pulling the blankets up around her middle. It was easier, talking to him on the phone. Easier when he wasn’t sitting across a table from her. She let herself relax.

“Did you say something about cookies?”

“I have a weakness. Chocolate chip.”

“You’re killing me.”

“Didn’t you just go to the grocery store?”

“Frozen pizza, it turns out, is not very sustaining.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Well…do you want to come over? I have plenty.” God, what was she doing?

“Come over? To your house. For homemade cookies.”

She dug her fingernails into her palm. “Yes.”

“Um, yes. Okay. Maybe I will come by.”

A mental image arose of sitting beside David on the couch in her pajamas, watching her favorite show. She thought of how he smelled when he helped steady her in the parking lot. She cleared her throat. “Actually, I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Want to meet at the beach? Watch the snow come down for a while? I’ll bring the cookies. You bring some hot tea?”

“Hmm…” She heard the smile in his voice. “Okay. Where?”

“Why don’t you meet me at the end of my block? Tenth Avenue.”

“Tenth Avenue. Great. I’ll see you there in, let’s say thirty minutes. Dress warm.”

*  *  *

Jane tried not to notice what she was wearing, not to check herself in the mirror before she left. She baked a quick batch of cookies so they would be warm when she got there, packing them in aluminum foil. Tugging on some long johns under her jeans, she pulled on her boots, her warmest sweater, her black coat, her green wool hat and scarf. At the door, she slipped on her gloves and ran out into snow that was pouring down from the sky.

The street was empty and quiet. Lit-up houses shrouded in white glowed brightly in the dusk. She moved toward the ocean, feeling its pull. The air was cold. Snowflakes brushed against her face. Her boots made prints on the sidewalk, leaving a trail back to her apartment that would soon be covered up.

His truck was parked by the boardwalk. He sat on a bench facing the ocean. In the storm the waves crashed high, spraying foam far above the sand. Snow fell and disappeared, melting into and joining the rolling water. She climbed the stairs and moved to the bench, sitting down beside David. He was leaning back, his legs stretched out, dusted with snow. His arm reached over the back of the bench behind her. He turned to her and smiled.

“What took you so long?”

She tried not to feel the rolling tug in her belly, tried to still the sudden shiver that went through her.

“Had to make you fresh cookies, didn’t I?”

“Oh, my God. You’re kidding me.”

She handed him the foil package. “Feel that? Still hot.”

He sat up, cradling the cookies, the backs of his gloved fingers brushing against hers. “Wow, Jane.”

She cast her eyes down, pulled her hand away. She looked at his legs instead, those long legs in their battered jeans, the scuffed boots against the wood planks of the boardwalk. He was dressed for warmth, covered from head to toe in down and wool, and yet she felt the presence of his body beside her as clearly as if he were wearing nothing. She wondered what he would feel like, if she could just rest her hand, there, on his thigh. Appalled, she turned and faced the water, taking a deep breath.

“Have you been waiting a while?”

“A few minutes.” He opened the package of cookies, burying his face in the rich chocolate steam. “These look amazing.”

He took a bite. The delight in his face flooded her with an unsettling pleasure.

To distract herself, she looked down the empty, silent boardwalk. “Did you grow up here?”

“No, I grew up in New York, in the suburbs. Not far from the city.”

“What brought you to Asbury Park?”

“Well, a long road, actually. I went to Teachers College and taught in the Bronx for a few years. Then I went back for a degree in nonprofit management and looked for a place near the city that didn’t have a program like what I had in mind. I used to come to the shore a lot when I was in school. I loved it here. Especially Asbury Park. All this history.” David gestured out toward the water. “And all this beauty. And then five blocks away you have ten year olds who’ve never seen the ocean.”

“I remember someone telling me that before I moved here. I didn’t believe them.”

“It’s amazing what you won’t believe until you see it.”

“Yeah.”

He pulled an aluminum flask of tea from beside him and handed it to her. “I forgot mugs.”

“That’s okay. We’ll just slug it.”

“I like you better every day.”

She unscrewed the cap on the tea, feeling the hot mist rise up. It smelled like licorice. She reached for a cookie.

“What about you?” he asked. “You’re not from here originally, are you?”

“How’d you guess?”

He smiled. “You have that dangerous outsider look.”

“I didn’t know I was so obvious. I’m from Maryland. The Eastern Shore.”

“Did you go to school up here?”

“I went to Smith, and then to grad school in New York. I worked in the city for a while, like you.”

“Is that where you met Ben?”

“Yeah, he was in film school at NYU.”

He nodded. “Do you like teaching?”

It was a simple question. She should be able to offer a simple answer. “Yes and no.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to say more, but she was silent, looking out at the gray waves. He didn’t interrupt her. They sat for some moments while the snow fell around them. She began to shiver under the layer of white along her body.

“Are you cold?”

His arm was behind her, along the back of the bench. He brought his hand down to her shoulder, checking her. She felt the energy of his body whistle into hers.

Immediately, she busied herself with the bottle of tea, taking a tentative sip. “No. I’m okay. Tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?”

“I have a younger sister. She’s got a baby now. Alex. He’s one. Already walking. My mom is crazy for him. She keeps telling me I need to get going and give her more grandkids.”

“Do you want kids?” She surprised herself, asking that question.

“Of course. Who doesn’t want kids? Have to meet their mother first, though.”

Jane tried to smile.

“Don’t you want children?” he asked.

She wiped at some chocolate on her glove. “Yeah I want kids. Definitely. Ben’s not that into it, though. I mean, he says he does eventually, but I think it’s going to be a while.”

“Oh. Well.” He didn’t seem to know what to say. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

She looked up at him. His eyes on hers were kind. She couldn’t hold his gaze and looked away.

“I guess I am getting cold now.”

“Oh. Okay, let’s go. Here, I’ll give you a ride back.”

“No, no, that’s all right, I’m just a few blocks away.”

“It’s no problem. You look frozen. You can warm up a bit in the truck on the way.”

They climbed into the car and sat for a moment while David blasted the heat. She leaned back, breathing in the scent of wood and, possibly, fast food.

“Oh, that feels good. I didn’t realize how chilled I was.”

“That’ll tend to happen when you sit on a bench in a snowstorm.”

“I suppose so.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, relaxing into the seat. She wanted him to touch her, to reach out and take her face in his hands.

It was foolish. She should not be so drawn to him. And being drawn, she should not be spending an evening with him. She was setting herself up. He wouldn’t return her attraction, and even if he did, she couldn’t act on it. She opened her eyes and found him watching her.

“Um, I’m just down the street a few blocks.”

He gave her a quick smile and turned the car around, driving carefully to her door. When the truck slowed, she turned to face him.

“Thank you, David. It was nice to get outside for a bit. Thanks for the tea.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for the cookies. They were…” He paused, looking at her. “They were delicious.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand, then turned and grabbed the door handle.

“Call me about your next show.” She stepped down and stood facing him with her hand on the door.

“It’s in April. I’ll give you a flyer when you come in with Raymond.”

“That’d be great. Thanks again.”

Shutting the door, she spun around and ran up the stairs to her apartment. She hoped he didn’t notice her slipping on the stairs. She had to get inside, and quickly. God help her, if she didn’t leave right away she would have invited him in.