Moonglass (25 page)

In my bed, with my eyes closed, I ran my fingers over the bare spot on my neck and tried to distinguish between the sound of rain on the roof and the waves on the beach. Sleep closed in from the edges of my mind, and when I finally slipped into it, it was dreamless and deep.

The view out our front window looked like redemption. A line of pelicans glided low over the water and, though pale, the early morning sun silhouetted a wave as it crumbled lazily over the rocks and spilled up onto the sand. It carried on its back a surfer I took to be my dad. He rode it out with an ease that spoke of countless mornings spent in the water, then hopped off his board and scooped it up, looking back for a second before he turned his face to our window. And I saw it wasn’t my dad at all. It was Tyler. I felt the zing as he waved.

“That Tyler out there?” My dad stepped in from the kitchen holding his cup of coffee.

“I think it is. Mind if I …? I’ll be right back.” I grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders, then near-ran down the stairs. When I got to the bottom, he was waiting, face still dripping wet, with his ever-present Tyler smile.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

I felt myself break into a big, surprised, I-am-so-happy-to-see-you grin. “Hi.” I almost laughed it instead of speaking it. “Um … do you usually surf out here before school and I just never noticed?”

“Nah.” He set the end of his board in the sand and leaned an arm on it. “Usually Ab Point. But Ashley said you left the meet yesterday, and then you didn’t answer the phone last night, so I thought I’d come by this morning. But it was early, and I didn’t want to wake you up, so …” He looked me over just about the time I realized I was standing in my pajamas, my hair all tangled and matted, with a blanket wrapped around me. “You okay? Looks like you could’ve used a day at the spa with Ashley.”

“Funny.” I pulled the blanket tighter and reached a hand up to smooth my hair. “You have no idea …” He took a step closer and smiled, and I felt his eyes run over me carefully, lingering a moment on the spot where I’d banged my head. “What happened yesterday?”

“That … is a really long story. But”—I took a step into him—”I’m okay. The storm’s gone, I’m not going to first period, and here you are, first thing in the morning.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed the salt water from his lips. He took a small step back, and I had a feeling my dad was probably coming down the steps.

Tyler sighed. “You’re leavin’ me alone for Strickland’s class, huh?”

“I know. Sorry to do it.” I looked out over the water. “But look at it out there. It’s a perfect morning—”

“Hey, Tyler.”

Sure enough, Dad walked up and set his board on the sand, then reached around behind him to zip his wet suit. “Get some fun ones out there?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Hard to leave it, but I can’t miss first today.” He looked over to me. “See you later?”

“Yeah. I’ll find you,” I said.

“All right. You guys have fun out there.” He gave a quick nod, then tucked his board under his arm and jogged up the beach.

My dad kneeled over his board with a bar of wax, then stopped, smiling.

“What?” I fought the urge to smile too as I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders again. Heat crept up my cheeks.

He looked at me for a second, then shook his head. “Nothing. Just …” I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, but apparently, it wasn’t needed. “Tyler’s a good kid,” he said. “He can come around whenever.” He rubbed the wax on his board quickly, then stood up and motioned at the water. “Get suited up. I’ll be out there.”

“Okay. I’ll be just a minute. There’s something I need to do first.”

He nodded, then grabbed his board and headed out. I stood there and watched him paddle out over the morning glass, so calm after such tumult, and when I turned to go up to the house, I thanked him silently, over and over, for being there.

This time, as I stood at the top of the sagging stairs in her little upstairs room, I felt her there with me. Out the framed window the exposed rocks covered in vibrant green moss stood out against the softness of the beach. The sand had been swept clean; no wood or glass, seaweed or bits of shells. The ocean had washed away everything, leaving behind a calm that spread out in me as I breathed it in. Beyond it all lay the expanse of the ocean, just beginning to sparkle beneath the rising sun as a new day unfurled itself. She’d captured it all perfectly in her frame, and in the pale morning light, it felt like peace.

I wrapped my quilt around me and ran my eyes over the painted window frame, thinking of the small canvas that now lay on my nightstand. Of the care and grace that she’d taken in her brushstrokes. For me. A brilliant artist, Joy had said. A side of my mother I never knew about, but the side she wanted me to know from the very beginning. And now, standing in the room that was once hers, looking out over the beach she once loved, it felt like I could.

A small, inside wave breaks, and cool water rushes up around my feet, carving out the sand beneath them as it recedes. I think of her then, and take
another step into the water. And this time, as it swirls around my calves, I close my eyes and picture her as I want to remember her
.

We walk the beach together, my little hand closed inside of hers. We are looking for treasures—pieces of glass, broken upon the beach, then
smoothed over into more beautiful, softer versions of themselves, gem-like in their beauty. She tells me how the very best ones have been tossed
beneath the waves so long they no longer have any sharp edges. I nod seriously, but inside think of how I’d one day like to see the center of one of
those smooth pieces, where it’s still clear and pure, because even the ocean can’t shape that
.

When I open my eyes, I look down instinctively, and it’s there,
beside my foot. She’s returned it to me. I kneel down and reach with my free hand,
through the water just in time to grasp my piece of moonglass before the white water wipes the slate clean. When I hold it up in the morning sun, I can
see it has cracked wide open. Split where a hole had been drilled for the chain. And inside it’s the truest, most beautiful red I’ve ever seen
.