Moonglass (12 page)

Tamra turned, sincere concern on her face. “You must miss her, huh?”

I shrugged, but didn’t move my eyes from the picture, so she looked back at it too. “I guess so,” I said casually. “She’s been gone a long time, since I was seven, so it’s just how things have been for a long time. I’m used to it.”

She swirled her wineglass a tiny bit, then took a sip and turned to me again.

“Yeah, but,
honey
, you’re coming up on a time in life when you are gonna
need
another woman, a mom, to guide you through all the craziness.” Her voice broke off at the end, and she sniffed.

I looked at her more closely, realizing with amusement that she had actually gotten teary. She sniffed again, then finished off the last of the wine in her glass, which was probably the last of the bottle, if I had to guess. She walked over to the window, empty glass in hand, looking forlornly at the water. I breathed in deeply through my nose and pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, then walked over to stand next to her. This wasn’t the reaction I was used to.

In the twilight I could see one of the guys, probably my dad, walking up from the water with a large fish in tow. Andy’s dark head bobbed in the water beyond him. Tamra was still sniffing and looking pitiful, so I put my hand on her back and patted. “We’re fine, my dad and me. Honestly, we’re good. And if I need a woman to talk to, I can always get a hold of you through Andy, right?”

She smiled, then turned and pulled me into a hug, which was awkward for a few reasons, two of which pressed hard like rocks into my own chest. She pulled back and held me by my shoulders, breathing sweet wine breath on me. “Good. You call me anytime. Prom, dating, birth control, whatever.” Just when it couldn’t get any more awkward, I heard the back door to the kitchen open up. My dad’s voice came through, obviously happy at what he’d brought in. “Hey, Anna? Could you grab me my filet knife? I gotta get this guy ready to throw on the grill. Fish tacos tonight!” I pried myself from Tamra’s arms, and she went to fix her face. Out the window the sun had disappeared completely, leaving the last hint of a glow behind Catalina. I thought of Joy and the mermaid tears, the Crawler and my moonglass, my mother having lived yards away from where I stood. Joy had been right about stories making things more beautiful. I watched the gray surface of the water roll with the swell s, and I came up with a new story. I told myself that maybe the years she was with us were like when the full moon shone for the mermaids, when they could walk on land and be with the ones they loved. And that maybe, like them, she’d had no choice but to go back.

I dive deeply into crystal blue water. I don’t wear a mask or snorkel or fins or a wet suit. I don’t need to. I belong here, below the surface. All around me
the ocean is radiant with life. Bright blue fish dart in and out of giant coral fans, and towering columns of kelp wave gently as I weave my way through
them. The water is far too deep for me to see the bottom, but below me what looks like a tiny spark at first begins to expand into an eerie glow.

Suddenly the water around me grows cooler and I want only to be in the warmth of the glow, so I angle my body downward and kick. The farther down I
go, the more I need to find the source of light and warmth, so I kick harder, propelling myself into what should be cold, dark water
.

And then I see her, and I stop dead, suspended in the liquid stillness of the water
.

The mermaid’s long blond hair flows and curls around the luminous curves of her body as she swims, inches above the sparkling ocean floor. I stay
still, afraid that if I move, she’ll disappear. Her movements are fluid and strong as she hovers over the sand, pausing briefly at a large rock before
moving on. Without thinking about it, I know she’s searching for something, though I’m not sure what it is. I want to help her find it, so I bring my feet
together and give a tentative kick, disturbing the stillness of the water
.

She freezes, startled, then turns and fixes her sad green eyes on me. Her face is distressed at first, but softens when our eyes meet. There is a pang
in my chest, somewhere between deep sorrow and shining hope
.

My mother
.

And then, as if the same realization hits her, she shoots upward, toward the surface, leaving me behind in a dark whirl of tiny bubbles
.

I am paralyzed at the bottom of the ocean as the last of the bubbles swirl up and then disappear into the blue above me. I sink down onto the sand,
alone and suddenly cold. I am there only a moment before I have the sensation that it is raining underwater. Something lands beside my foot,
creating a tiny, momentary puff of sand
.

I lift my chin slowly, and the coldness that I feel gives way to silent wonder. All around me gleaming drops of color make their way down through the
fluid smoothness. They move in slow motion, spiraling down, catching and throwing light as they descend. I reach out my hand to catch a cobalt drop,
and as it slips between my fingers, I recognize its smooth, solid surface
.

At that moment I am conscious of the sound that I somehow know has been there all along. As it gains strength, the ocean floor explodes with tiny
puffs of sand, drops of sea glass settling down into it
.

Above me, my mother is weeping
.

I didn’t go near the water for nearly a week. Instead I left in the morning for practice, where I ran hard enough that Jillian had a hard time sticking with me, and Coach Martin reminded me repeatedly to save my legs for the upcoming meet. After practice I went to the shopping center across the highway and aimlessly wandered the stores, even when I could tell that the shop girls were completely irritated. I spent hours on end at the Starbucks, listening from behind my magazine to people order, and talk on their cel phones, and gossip. I came home after dark, so I didn’t have to look at my mom’s cottage or decline my dad’s invitations to surf before he had to go to work.

On the weekend, when we finally passed in the hall, Dad paused and grabbed me gently by the shoulders. “Hey, stranger! Haven’t seen much of you since I switched over to nights. Feels like I’m living with a ghost.” He looked me over carefully. “Everything okay, kiddo?” I shrugged his hands off. “I know. Sorry. I’m just busy with practice, and school starts tomorrow, so I wanted to do a little shopping …” His mouth fell open. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t realize it was tomorrow.” He pulled out his wall et and handed me a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Here.

Why don’t you go out with Ashley or something and pick yourself up a few new things for school then?” I didn’t answer at first. I hadn’t actually meant I wanted to go shopping.

“You know … here. Use this instead.” He took back the hundred and handed me his ATM card. “Just in case you need a little more. You know the PIN.” I twirled the card slowly between my fingers before tucking it into my pocket. “Thanks, Dad, but you don’t need to give me this.” He laid a heavy hand on my head. “Hey. I realize it’s not easy starting out someplace new. But you’re gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“I know, I know. Thank you.” I forced a smile he could believe, then turned to go before he could see it slip away.

“Have fun,” he called after me. “Go big if you want—it’s your one chance. This promotion’s gotta be good for something.” I sat on the edge of a fountain that shot water high up into the air in predictable rhythmic intervals. Each time it did, two little girls who were hanging over the edge of it screamed with delight as mist fell over them. Their mom sat a few feet away, texting, and shushed them without looking up. At least they had each other.

The mist felt good on my skin in the heat of the day, and I tried to soak it up. When I’d gotten to the mall, Dad’s ATM card in hand, I’d perked up a bit. He’d never just handed it over like that. Definitely not with instructions to “go big.” Either he was feeling guilty or his promotion really was worth something.

Whatever it was, the little mood lift it gave me faded when I couldn’t get ahold of Ashley and had to go shopping by myself. I thought of Shelby and Laura and how we would have made a day of it. We would’ve passed clothes back and forth over the dressing room walls, stepped out to show each outfit, critiquing all the while, and talked each other into the things we loved and wanted to borrow later on. Then we would have sat here together at this fountain with coffee drinks or ice cream cones, dissecting what the first day of school would be like—which teachers we’d end up with, who’d be completely changed over the summer, and where we’d be having lunch. As it was, I’d half heartedly picked a few sundresses off a surf store sale rack and grabbed a new pair of sandals without even trying them on, and now I sat staring at the center of the fountain, feeling pitifully alone.

“Hey, Anna.”

I looked up to see Jillian standing with a woman who had to be her mom. They stood next to each other, smoothie cups in hand, almost mirror images with the same slender build, long legs, and brown eyes. Her mom stepped forward, smiling. “I’m Beth, Jill y’s mom. And you must be the Anna that Jill ’s been talking about. You girls should do pretty well this season, from what I hear.”

I smiled back, heartened a little by her immediate warmth and the fact that Jillian had mentioned me to her mom. I tried to match her cheery tone. “Hopefully. I’ve never competed before, so we’ll see.” Jillian raised an eyebrow, smiling. “I thought we competed every day at practice. You’ve been kicking my butt the last three days.” Beth leaned into me a little, her voice a half-whisper. “Good job. Keep it up. She needs a good training partner, someone to push her every now and then.” Jillian gave her a look, and Beth put a hand on each of our shoulders. “Anna, it is so good to meet you. I can’t wait to see you race. Jill y, hon, I need to run into the bookstore. Meet you back here in a few minutes?”

She nodded without looking at her mom. “See you in a few.”

Beth gave one more wave before she turned and headed down the cobblestone row of stores, and I watched until I couldn’t see her anymore. “Your mom’s really nice.”

“She’s superhappy I’m running again—which I get, but she can be a little much sometimes.” Jillian sat next to me on the edge of the fountain, and I wondered if the “Again” had something to do with her sister. She motioned to my bag. “Anyway. Last-minute school shopping?”

“Kind of. If you count sale rack sundresses. I’m not too into shopping. Or school starting.” Jillian took a sip of her smoothie. “That why you’ve been running all crazy this week? Are you stressed out about it or something?” Even she’d noticed. I watched a stream of water fly up and then separate into little droplets before raining back down. “I guess so.” She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You have the team already.” She grinned and bumped my shoulder. “And you have Ashley, too.”

I nodded, surprised at how good it felt to have someone other than my dad reassure me. “That’s true. What more do I need, really?”

“You need to know two things—” Jillian’s phone chimed with a text. She glanced at her purse. “God, she’s quick, my mom.” Jillian grabbed her cup and stood. “I gotta go meet her.”

“Wait—what are the two things?” I really wanted to know.

“Oh. The first one is that tomorrow will look like a ridiculous fashion show, but nobody keeps that up past the first week. The second thing is … our school is small, and people will know you’re new so just be ready to feel like they’re sizing you up. Because they are.” The flip-flop my stomach did must have shown on my face. Jillian put her hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t tell you to make you nervous. Don’t be. I told you so you can walk in there well prepared.” I started to ask her what she meant, but she’d already turned to go. “See you tomorrow! Hold your head high!”
Hold my head high?
What was that supposed to mean? I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. I didn’t think.

Great
.

Jillian was right about the whole fashion show thing. Immaculately dressed people funneled into the courtyard, all tanned and beautiful and looking like they’d stepped out of a magazine. I looked down at my schedule and then back up, hoping to see Jillian or Ashley among them. All around me were groups I didn’t belong to. The guys stood around in clothes far more expensive than mine and nodded while making small talk and eyeing the girls. The girls, on the other hand, paraded in, all in carefully chosen outfits that had probably been weeks in the making. When they saw each other, they squealed and rushed to meet, chat, compliment, and then size up everyone else. Which made me thankful for Jillian’s warning. I didn’t want to be the topic of anyone’s conversation, so I tried to blend in. Clearly, though, I didn’t.

I hadn’t given what I would be wearing much thought until that morning. It was still warm even early in the morning, so I had pulled out one of my new sundresses, clipped the tag off, slid into my flip-flops, and finger-combed out my hair, letting it hang loose and wavy down my back. I was fine with what I was wearing; it was just the standing alone, awkwardly checking and rechecking my schedule that made me feel out of place. I needed something else to look at.

As if my thoughts were broadcast over the intercom, Tyler walked into the far end of the courtyard, up to another lifeguard I recognized from the party, and high-fived him. They exchanged a few words, then both turned to take in the mass of people milling around. I was about to look away and pretend I hadn’t seen him, when his eyes met mine for a brief instant. He didn’t outwardly acknowlledge me, but the hint of a smile crossed his face as he scanned the remainder of the courtyard, looking like he owned the place. I checked my schedule again. Algebra I, room 101, Mr. Strickland.

“Heeyy!” A pink fruity-smelling blur of blond hair and tan skin ran up and hugged me. “You look SO cute! I love the beach-casual. Have you been here long? Sorry I’m late—I had a minor clothes crisis this morning.” I just nodded, sure that she’d launch into the full story of it. Instead she jumped right to a new topic.