Moonglass (4 page)

On his way back he came close enough for me to notice the waves in the back of his brown hair and the freckles that dotted his tan shoulders. I wondered what color his eyes were, but he didn’t so much as glance in my direction. So much for what I considered
my
two aces—blond hair and a bikini. Instant karma for being so bitchy about the football throwers.

I watched as he climbed back up the ladder to his tower and once again stood at his post. He picked up his binoculars and again pointed them at the rocks. It was definitely possible that I fell into the magnified circles of vision somewhere, which I found unnerving and intriguing at the same time. I pulled my hair back and twisted it up on top of my head before lying back. I bent one leg and flattened out my stomach. Then I pointed my chin at the sun, stuck out my chest the slightest bit, and tried to pretend he didn’t exist.

I let the sun warm my skin, and my mind drifted with the sound of the waves. The sound was the same as it was back home, but the air was warmer here.

And so far, it was better than I had thought it would be. There on the sand, the worries I’d had about coming and what it might dr edge up felt far off and irrational. My house was on the beach, I’d sort of made a friend, and the lifeguards were cute. It was almost like a fresh start. Maybe that was what my dad was trying to do, in some strange way—give us a place to move on.

For the past couple of months, when he would drive up to my grandmother’s on the weekend, he would show up tired and … depressed? I had assumed it was because it bothered him to be back where he and my mom had some history. Too many memories. Which was why it didn’t make sense to me that he had taken the transfer in the first place. It was also what set me on edge about the whole thing. It never occurred to me that maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was good for him to get away and look at a different stretch of ocean, one that didn’t hold within it the sharpness of her absence.

Lying there under the sun, with the sand formed to cradle my body, I couldn’t decide how I felt about that, exactly. The prospect of being somewhere different, where my mother had once been, still left me uneasy. At home I could avoid the places that made me think too much, could be sure that I didn’t run into any unwanted memories. I could stay away from the places we had walked together, happy, and the places that held other, less sunny memories.

Or if I ever chose, I could go to them, maybe even graze the same grains of sand with my bare feet. Here I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t know how to think of her here. Even if I wanted to know more, it had been so long since I’d asked anything, I wasn’t sure I knew how to anymore.

I sat up and glanced at the lifeguard tower. He was still there, though now he leaned forward against the railing under the sun, looking straight out at the sparkling water. All up and down the sand, beachgoers splashed in the crystal blue. Kids on bodyboards kicked for waves that rolled under them without breaking. A couple floated out beyond the swim buoys, entangled, kissing the salt water from each other’s faces.

I set my sunglasses down on my towel and walked down to the water’s edge. Just like the night before, it was warmer than I’d expected. There was no tensing up, no breath holding when I got in. I dove under a little roller and swam underwater, eyes open. The clarity beneath the surface was shocking. On the bottom I could see the ripples made by the waves. I kicked down into the muted blue and scooped sand between my two hands, then let it flow out and settle back into a tiny pile. Almost out of air, I floated to the surface and burst through, happy. From where I floated I could see the lifeguard looking at the tide pools through his binoculars again. He must have been new, to be that worried about people on those rocks on a day like this. He was so focused on that spot, he probably didn’t notice anything else.

I made my way back to the waterline and shook the water out of my hair, then walked toward the rocks. The tide had gone out, leaving the huge clusters exposed and shining. In every indentation there was water—crystal clear and warm. I picked my way over the rocks and peered into a pool that was small but deep. The tiny waving arms of sea anemones lined the sides all the way down to the bottom, which lay beneath smooth round pebbles. As I squinted into the pool, a drop of water made its way down my face, then landed silently in the water, becoming the center of a ring of ripples that radiated outward.

“Hey!” A voice behind me yelled. I paused and composed myself before standing up slowly. “Hey,” he said, softening a little. “You shouldn’t be out here this far. People get knocked over all the time, and then I gotta patch up all their cuts too, so why don’t you come on in?” Out of breath, he extended his hand.

I smiled casually out at the flat ocean. “I think I’ll be all right.”

He put his sunglasses on top of his head, and I saw that his eyes were clear blue. They flashed frustration. “Listen. You need to come in.” He looked over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze to the lifeguard truck I had seen earlier. “Now.” He offered his hand again.

The truck slowed, then almost sank to a stop on the sand, and the guard inside put his binoculars up to his eyes and pointed them at us. I raised an eyebrow. “Supervisor?”

He looked back impatiently. “Yeah. Kind of. Can you just come back to the beach?” He had to be close to my age. Definitely good-looking. I decided to go along, and put out my hand to let him guide me back over the rocks.

“Thanks,” I said once we were back on the sand and the watchful eyes of the lifeguard in the truck were gone.

“No worries. Just don’t go out there again. Or else I’m gonna be pissed off that I have to run down here and peel you off the rocks.” He pointed at his tower fifty yards or so up the beach, then looked at me for a long moment. “I gotta get back up there, uh …”

“Anna. I’m Anna,” I said, putting my hand out again.

“Tyler.” He grabbed it firmly. “Stay off the rocks. Or wait until I’m off duty.” He looked at his watch. “Listen, I get off in a half hour, and the tide’s gonna go out farther. If you’re still here, we can go check out whatever you were looking at. You staying here?” He motioned up at the cottages that lined the beach.

“Yeah. Actually, I am. Just got in last night. I’ll probably be out here a little while longer.”

“Okay, then.” He turned and jogged back to his tower. “Maybe I’ll see you when I get off.” I smiled to myself, wondering how long I could go without him finding out who I was. It could be fun to be off-limits after all.

I spent the next half hour watching the late-stayers on the beach. It was the kind of perfect golden summer afternoon when you could tell people just didn’t want to leave, even though it was Sunday and most of them had to get back to the reality of their alarm clocks the next morning. A couple sat on a single towel nearby, tan legs mingled together. The girl absently scooped up handfuls of sand and let it sift through her fingers as she leaned over to whisper something into her boyfriend’s ear. He laughed, then lay back and pulled her over him for a long kiss that felt a little too intense to be watching. A peppy trumpet came from the Beachcomber, where the staff was lined up, saluting a rising black flag with a martini glass on it. Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses, a small burst of excitement before only the sound of the waves and an occasional voice drifted over on the breeze.

Suddenly a tinny voice came from Tyler’s tower. I looked up to see him holding a megaphone to his mouth. “Attention on the beach. Lifeguard service is now finished for the day. Please exit the water or swim at your own risk. Thank you, and enjoy your evening.” With that he closed up his tower, climbed down, and headed my way. I turned my head in the other direction and pretended to check out the tide pools as he jogged over.

“Hey, you’re still here.” He sat down and pushed his sunglasses up into the perfect waves of brown hair, which I appreciated. Nothing worse than talking to your own reflection. I saw his eyes again and figured he must have seen his fair share of girls who were more than happy to be “Rescued.” They were a kind of silvery blue and lined with thick, long lashes. Lashes that would sell mascara to those same girls.

I leaned back on my elbows. “Well, I couldn’t turn down a guided tour of the beach. Plus, it’s perfect out here right now.” We both looked out at the water that sparkled gold as the sun made its way toward the horizon.

He buried his toes in the sand. “So, you renting a cottage here with family?”

“Yeah. well, just my dad.”

“A little father-daughter trip? Nice.” He looked around. “Where’s he at?”

“He’s around here somewhere. Actually, I haven’t seen him all day, which is kinda funny. He’s probably off on the other end of the beach somewhere, looking for shells.”

“Huh. Good, because he told all of us to stay away from you.”

I stopped abruptly. “What?”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’ve just seen it before. Most dads don’t like their daughters hanging around with some guy they just met on the beach.”

I laughed nervously and nodded. “Oh.” Then silence. A seagull cried out behind us. I traced a figure eight in the sand.

“So. You wanna walk or something?” He grinned at me, and at that moment I would have thought anything he said sounded good. I tried to appear casual as I checked the beach for any sign of my dad.

“Sure.”

We walked a few quiet paces, and I racked my brain for something to say. Nothing particularly witty or charming came to mind, so I settled on small talk.

“So how long have you been a lifeguard here?”

He kicked a mussel shell out in front of us. “This is my second season.”

I nodded, figuring he was seventeen or so. You could start lifeguarding at sixteen years old, something my dad had hassled me about doing this summer.

“How do you like it?”

“It’s a pretty kill er job. Last summer kind of sucked, being a rookie. They do stupid shit—’scuse me, stupid stuff—to you, but it’s that way everywhere. This year’s better, except we have a new boss who’s a totall ass.”

I cringed a little. “Really? What’s his problem?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer, but I was morbidly curious at the same time.

“I don’t know. He’s totally old-school and worked here forever ago. He started out when he was, like, fifteen or something and worked his way up, so now that he’s back, he cruises around like he knows everything.” He stopped, checking to see if I was interested—which, of course, I was. “Anyway, it just sucks because none of us ever know when he’s gonna come by and harp on us out of nowhere. He’s just a pain in the ass, is all.”

I opened my mouth to say that I could sympathize, but he went on. “Like today, I ran down to those rocks all day long because he wants us to be

‘proactive,’ because he thinks that if someone has to be rescued, the guard wasn’t doing his job in the first place. Then I look like a dumb-ass, telling people they need to come in from the rocks, when they can see there’s no problem.” I nodded, able to recite my dad’s philosophy about lifeguarding in my mind.

“So today he comes down to my tower as I’m getting back from one of my laps to the rocks, and he tell s me that every time I run down there, the rest of the water isn’t being watched. You just can’t make the guy happy. I don’t know what his problem is.” Tyler shook his head. “He needs to get laid or something.” I laughed, a little too loudly. “Anyway, that’s the story of my life. What’s yours?”

“Well —” Before I could get anything else out, I heard behind us the familiar hum of a truck on the sand. We both stopped, and I hoped desperately it was the other lifeguard. For the last few years, every summer had begun with a lecture about staying away from the guards on the beach. They were only out for one thing, etcetera, etcetera.

“Shit,” Tyler said under his breath. “Speak of the devil.” The truck pulled up next to me, and my dad stuck his head out. Of course.

“Hey, hon. See you met one of our rookies.”

I cringed, probably visibly, both at being outed and at my dad’s obvious inability to remember little details. I smiled tightly and snuck a sidelong glance at Tyler, who was fumbling for his composure. Funny, considering the way he had carried himself a few seconds earlier.

“Yeah. Dad, this is Tyler. It’s actually his
second
year here, so technically he’s not a rookie anymore. He was just showing me around.” Tyler gave a nod.

My dad looked at his red trunks, unimpressed.

“Huh. well, if you’re gonna walk around here off duty, you need to change out of your uniform first.” Tyler stammered. “Oh, y-yeah…. Sorry. It won’t happen again.” We were all silent for a few awkward seconds.

“Well, I’m headed home, hon. Why don’t you hop in and I’ll give you a ride back to the house?” He smiled broadly, but it wasn’t a question.

“Nah. I think I’ll walk.” It was worth a try, seeing as we were being so civil at the moment.

He cleared his throat. “Nah. I think you should get in.” still smiling … “We’ve got a few things to take care of this evening.” He looked at me straight on.

Tyler shifted next to me. I was beat, unless I wanted to start a battle.

I turned back to Tyler and rolled my eyes before putting out my hand. “Well, thanks for the tour. It was nice to meet you.” The faintest trace of a smirk crossed his face before he cleared his throat and shook my hand.

“You too. Stay off the rocks next time, or your dad’ll kill me.” We all forced a little laugh, and I walked around the truck and hopped into the passenger seat, dropping my stuff beside me. My dad pulled a U-turn around Tyler, gave him a wave, and we trundled away. I waited until we were a short distance off.

“Nice, Dad. Thanks.”

“Don’t start,” he said flatly. “He’s a lifeguard. And you’re my daughter. That’s as good as it gets.”

“And that makes sense
how
again? I don’t get it. I really don’t.” I paused. It was always right there, on the tip of my tongue when we had this talk. This time I said it. “You were a lifeguard when Mom married you. What was
so
bad about that?” I regretted it the instant I said it.