Spring Tide (19 page)

“I just do.”

He walked away and her eyes followed him until he was gone from her sight.

_______

T
he joyful screech of a kid jumping in the water snapped me from a daydream. I rose from the chair to go inside and saw remnants of a cherry turnover sitting on the table, collecting flies. Someone walking down the beach had probably put it down earlier, too lazy to travel the extra thirty yards to the trash can. Or it was the ghost of Nick. I stashed my supplies under the sink and locked up, a long, hot shower priority one.

I groaned and looked at my car keys like it was their fault. It was a hundred degrees in the shade and I’d forgotten to roll down the windows of the dragon. Sitting in my car, I gripped the burning hot steering wheel, but my hands were ice cold. My left shoulder suddenly jerked forward and chilled perspiration covered my body. In the windshield, I swore I saw the blue glow of Jericho’s eyes. I turned the ignition and thought I heard his whispers in the engine’s hum, “sleep well,” echoing in my mind.

Disquiet bolted me to the car seat the way his touch left me adrift.

He promised he would tell me about his eyes. He will.

His eyes, his calm, his kiss, and his touch were sedatives.

He hasn’t even tried to have sex with me. He’s one of the good ones, wants to go slow.

But Derek’s kiss had energy. Derek’s kiss didn’t submerge me in dark water. Derek had put his hands all over me.

I realized at that second that Jericho had “whispered” to me (in the same manner he had with Joshua) to make me sleep like a zombie. Why?

Was the spark that happened every time I touched Jericho a warning? What about the energy dream I’d had two or three times when I’d shared a bed with him, the one that had left me sore and aching in the morning? For three days straight, I’d slept in his room under his supervision.

So attracted to everything about him, I didn’t bother to read the signs telling me he was too good to be true. What was it Sylvia had said about Joel? Everything about him made her toes curl—the way he spoke to her, how he touched her. It wasn’t an exact parallel, but there was no denying the similarity.

He isn’t Joel.

But he’d never said how he knew Joel.

No, Jericho would never hurt me. Would he? He said he needed me.

What was it he needed?

He’d said once he wouldn’t compromise me.

Has he? Why was he being so persistent about wanting me to live in his house?

Why me?

Maybe I was finally coming to my senses. Or maybe I was losing them altogether.

While he was in California, he called me in the late afternoon or early evening every day. I picked up his first call to reassure myself that I was wigging out about nothing. But the sound of his voice disturbed me so much that my hand shook and I dropped my drinking glass. For the next two days, I didn’t answer his calls and didn’t listen to his messages.

I considered moving back to Austin, but then I’d be giving up my job at The Landing, and I’d be breaking the agreement I’d made with Nick’s mom, Mrs. Black. She’d understand, but I couldn’t stomach the idea of going back on my word. And I really didn’t want to live at home again after being away. I had to stay. Everything would be okay.

_______

Mom had arrived the night prior. We had a nice, quiet dinner together and then she kicked my butt at putt-putt golf—good times.

She took a seat on the patio at Nick’s place, the last stop on the tour. She liked the condo more. It was secure and I was way up high on the fifth floor. She liked the Black’s cottage with its deadbolt locks and security system, but didn’t like that I had made housesitting arrangements without talking to her first. I wasn’t taking advantage of anyone. We’d made a fair deal; I’d live rent free in return for supervising the off-season maintenance.

I took the chair next to her. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the new culinary academy in Dallas. I really want—”

“And you can absolutely go there after you get your degree.” She wiped sand from the tabletop. “We’ve talked about this before, honey. College can serve to further your future plans, whether it’s in the restaurant business or otherwise. Besides, I think you’ll love it. And you get to go for free. It’s a tremendous opportunity.”

It was true. Having a degree couldn’t hurt anything. And I loved classes, loved learning, and on some level, wanted that experience. But I also knew that she felt strongly about me going because she’d had to put off her own degree for a very long time and it had been a struggle for our family to pay for it. Culinary school could wait.

She’d started into a little speech about what to do in the event of emergency/natural disaster/act of terrorism when Julia’s head showed between the porch rails.

“Mom, this is Julia McCarthy, a friend and,” I pointed left, “a neighbor.”

They did the “nice to meet you” thing.

“I went to the deli this morning and got the good sandwiches, the little ones with smoked salmon. Come over and have a bite,” Julia offered.

It was a little past noon and Jericho wasn’t back from San Francisco. To turn Julia down would be rude, and she and Mom were talking about the next door neighbors, the hermit people. They never went anywhere or did anything and therefore had plenty of time to watch everything and everyone. It was Brahms to my mother’s ears.

I pulled on my eyelash. “Thanks Julia, but—”

“Give me fifteen minutes and come on down.”

“We’d love to,” Mom said.

Julia was waiting for us on her deck and we sat down with her.

She poured iced tea. “Kris is friends with our son, Jason. Well, he’s not our son, but we love him like he’s ours. We took him in six years ago when his parents passed away.”

“He tried to teach me to surf.” I took a sip. “Go ahead and laugh. It’s funny.”

“Not as funny as you trying to teach me to bake.” Julia giggled and raised her hand. “Lost cause!”

I didn’t eat much, just listened to her and Mom talk. Being at his house made me uncomfortable, made me think about him and I didn’t want to think about him.

Mom rose to help Julia bring in the dishes. She stopped in the middle of the living room and marveled at all the paintings. “What a spectacular collection.”

“Julia did those, Mom.”

She looked at Julia and then back to the walls. “Where did you study art?”

“Never had an art lesson, just enjoy the diversion.” She led us to the front door. “My husband and Jason are doing some work today, but I know they’d like to say hello.”

He’s here? He must’ve taken an earlier flight back.

Jericho was working on his truck, underneath it, and Donovan was sitting alongside, handing him tools. A bead of sweat dripped into my eye.
Don’t look at him. Get through it and get out.

“Donovan, give him a tap,” Julia said. “Nancy, this is my husband Donovan.”

“Hello. I’m Donovan.” He poked Jericho’s leg.

He slithered from under the vehicle, a smile on his face on seeing me.

My fingers became scouring pads, thumbnails digging. I shoved my hands in my pockets, my sight on Donovan.
Say something.
“What’s wrong with the truck?”

“Just maintenance. Hi, Mrs. Edwards. You and Kris look so much alike.” Jericho scanned the area for a towel. “I would shake hands but …”

“Uhh … Jason repaired a uh … problem with Derek’s car,” I took two steps back and put myself a little behind Mom, “earlier this summer.”

She nodded. “He’s had such trouble with that car.”

“It was an easy fix.” Jericho eyed me.

“You’re teaching Krissy to surf?” Mom grinned.

“I’ve showed her a few things. She’s gettin’ good.”

Jericho continued to talk to Mom about my surfing, but I couldn’t follow the conversation. Minutes passed, my brain void of thought.
This is enough.
I gave Mom a small nudge like I used to do when I was little and she’d run into friends at the store. It was the sign that she’d been talking with them too long and I wanted to go.

She glanced my way twice. “Well, it was very nice to meet you all.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Mrs. Edwards.” Jericho waved his hand to get my attention. “See you later?”

I wiped the sheen from my forehead. “It’s warm today.”

Walking back to the deck, Julia praised my cooking, inducing snort chuckles from Mom and me. It was an inside joke among my family that it was a miracle I worked in a kitchen. My experimentation at home had resulted in many a scorched pan, smoke-filled oven, or whole meals dumped into the garbage disposal.

Julia put her arm around my shoulder. “Kris is always welcome here and we don’t mind helping her if she’s in a jam.”

I thanked her for lunch and Mom complimented her paintings again. Mom’s stance and words were casual. She liked Julia. Everyone liked Julia. And it was like Julia knew exactly what to say to her.

When we got back to the condo, I helped Mom get her things together and made a snack for her trip.

She took her thermos from the sink. “What was going on with you at the McCarthys’? You were acting strange.”

“I had a thing for Jason earlier in the summer. Sometimes I still get nervous when I see him.”

“Hmmm. I can see why. His hair’s a bit long though. Look at me. I want it crystal clear that no one is to know you live alone. That’s what worries me most. If anyone asks, you live with a friend. People don’t always show who they really are and honey, you’re so—”

“Naïve?”
Joshua and Jericho’ve already tested the hypothesis for you, Mom.

“I just—”

“Mom, I get it. I live with a friend.”

“You keep that house locked up tight and set the alarm every time. And if any issues arise with Mrs. Black, you let me know immediately.” She sighed. “I miss you so much. Brad’s on his own and now you are too.”

“So I can stay?”

“Of course. You’ve never caused me any concern. In fact, I’m really proud of you. I came down because I wanted to catch up.”

“I’ll come home more often. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just make me feel like I’m still important once in a while.” She kissed my cheek. “Not looking forward to the drive home—too many semis.”

“Gracias, NAFTA!”

I walked her down to her car. From the back seat she gave me a box of clothes, warmer clothes that I wouldn’t need for at least two months. With a hug and a “love you” she headed out.

I needed something to do and decided to move my stuff to the Black’s place. I had another week and a half in the condo, but why wait? I began to pack. There wasn’t all that much.

The majority of my life was deposited on the floor of the cottage’s living room. I fluffed my sheets and tucked them under the mattress in the bedroom Derek had used all summer. The fragrance of his cologne clung to the pillows, making me wish he’d come walking through the door. But he was in Louisiana. I was here. My bed was made and I had to lay in it.

Mom had left a note in the box of clothes. She was fun that way. It was even more fun because there was a fifty with the note. My phone rang. Thinking it was her, I picked up and heard Jericho’s voice. Luminous blue eyes replaced mine in the bathroom mirror ten feet away, an invention of my mind, but frightening nonetheless. I said I was busy and quickly disconnected.

As I put a few sweaters in the dresser I had a brainstorm so dorky I had to act on it. I ran the errand, pleased with the purchase. The project would probably die halfway through, but would give me something to fill my time. Concentrating to remember, I chewed on the inside of my cheek until four rows were completed. Satisfied, I ran my fingers through my hair which was more knotted than my knitting.

I rifled through my backpack and didn’t find a comb. Instead I found a photo of Jericho and me that Sarah had taken the night we’d had dinner at The Landing. It fluttered from my fingers and into the trash as my periphery caught a dash of color. Looking out the window, I saw a woman folding a big, orange towel. My emotions swayed with the grasses in the dunes; Jericho was walking up the beach. Memories of being with him in the water or the sand started rushing in. The beach had always been our hallowed place, but terror clouded his image.
He’ll hurt me. Stay away from him.
I wanted to run for the hills but knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. That certainly hadn’t worked with Joshua.
Be done with it.

Not wanting him inside the house, I went to the shore and sat. I concentrated on the sound of the waves to soothe me, but my pulse was a runaway train.

“I got back early but didn’t want to bother you while you were with your mom. Well? How did it go? Is she still here? You were all twitchy when you stopped over.” He sat beside me and smoothed my uncombed hair.

I shied away and pushed my vacant brain to reconnect its neurons. “She’s … gone back.”

“Are you still detoxing Nick’s?”

“No.”

He said something.

I scooped up a handful of sand and watched the grains sift through my fingers. “What?”

“I said I missed you. I called, left a bunch of messages.” He reached for my hand. “Did you get ’em?”

I pivoted away from him, stood, and went back to the house if only to have a door to close. He said my name, followed me, and stopped at the patio steps. His hand brushed mine. I felt the spark and yanked my arm away.

“What is it? Does your mom want you to go back to Austin? Hon, it’s okay. We’ll work it out. I’ll find a way to be with—”

“No!” I stepped back, fear overcoming affection, my mind incapable of splitting the issues. With a couple more feet between us, I looked into his pure blue eyes. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

His head ratcheted forward. “What?” His mouth fell open in disbelief, the creases at the corners of his eyes as deep as his stare. “Why?”

“I don’t want this.”

His arms shot out from his sides. “Why!”

I didn’t say anything.

“Nothing? What the hell, Kris? At least tell me why!”