by Nicole Bea
“Sure. It might be busy with the afternoon crowd, but at least I’ll be able to show you what it’s like.”
Lux flashes me a smile before ascending the stairs to my house, then waits for me at the top to give a quick knock and open the door.
“Hi, Mom!” I call into the house, and Mom steps out of the kitchen.
“Hello, you two. You’re just in time. The pancakes just went in the oven to keep warm. I have a tiny bit of batter left to make about three more and then we’ll be all set. Come in. Leave your shoes on if they’re dry.”
It feels a bit strange coming home after being away, and as I walk through the entrance to the kitchen and dining room, I notice that the door to my old bedroom is closed.
“How was the drive? The day’s beautiful.” Mom’s pan makes a sizzling noise from in the kitchen, and Lux and I take seats next to one another, saving the spot across from us for Mom. “And how’s school? You’re graduating this year, Lux, right?” Her voice is a little bit formal, like she’s still upset with him.
“Yes, ma’am. Trying not to think too hard about that yet. Still have to pass both semesters first.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Chelsea picked you so I have no concerns about your intelligence.” The clipped tone she had only seconds before is already starting to melt. Mom’s always been a bit soft. “Anyway, dance has been great for Chelsea, I think. It’s a great way to connect with others.”
Lux smiles at me and I smile back, poking him in the thigh where Mom can’t see us touch. He reaches under the table and slides his finger up my leg.
“How long until the food is ready, Mom?” I ask, keeping her from requesting too many details about Lux’s life the moment we’ve walked into the house, while also trying to distract my mind from Lux’s touch.
“Oh, a couple of minutes, why?” Another sizzle in the pan. Mom’s running water at the same time, probably trying to do dishes and cook simultaneously.
“I want to show Lux my old room. Just for a minute.”
“You have time, go ahead. I closed the door so it might be a bit stuffy in there.”
I lower my voice to a whisper. “Come on.”
Lux follows me down the hallway to my old bedroom, the knob squeaking as I turn it. The warm air inside greets us, smelling like sunshine and clean linen. We step through the threshold, looking around as if the room is new to us both, and I close the door behind us.
“So, this is where you grew up, huh?” Lux spins in a slow circle, absorbing everything on the walls, from the blank spots where there used to be pictures of me and Amy and Brandon, to the dusty shelves of books that I decided not to bring with me to Bedford.
“Something like that. I always liked the view from this room the best. I used to write poems when I was in junior high about it and how the ocean would change every day. They were horrible but they were mine. "
I walk across the floor toward the window, where a little artificial plant sits on the sill. I pick it up and twist it around in my fingers absently, looking at the water across the highway. There’s a deep crystal blue to it today, and though the sun sparkles off the surface, the glitz and radiance remind me of the crystal ornaments we used to hang on the Christmas tree when Dad was still alive.
When I turn around, Lux is standing close behind me, and he slips his hands around my waist. Before he closes his embrace, I place the plant back on the sill and turn to face him, tucking my hands behind his head.
“We’re alone, you know,” I murmur, watching Lux bite his lip at some mysterious thought inside his head.
“We’re in your childhood bedroom.” Lux’s voice plays at being serious, but I can tell by the way he leans toward me that he’s more than willing to give in.
“Kiss me?” The voice that says the words almost isn’t my own, the anxious girl inside of me having melted into someone with a little more confidence in herself.
“Chelsea…” He growls, low and baritone, his teeth almost nibbling on my lips as my heart beats heavy in my chest. I could kiss him right now, right here by the ocean in this room and erase all the other memories I’ve ever had in it. But just as we nearly touch, there’s a knock at the door.
“Pancakes are ready!”
I rocket from Lux’s arms as Mom opens the door, landing with my back against the wall and smashing my hand against the fake potted plant. It falls to the ground with a clatter but doesn’t break. The look on Mom’s face tells me she already knows Lux and I were getting up to something that she interrupted, even though we were only gone for a few minutes.
“Oh, sorry—I just, the food’s ready.”
I lean down and pick up the plastic succulent from the floor, placing it back on the sill. “Oh, perfect. I’m starving.” I try to fill the awkwardness with words, though I don’t think I’m entirely successful in making the situation any less embarrassing. However, by the time we all sit down at the kitchen table, Lux has smoothed things over, complimenting Mom on her great food and asking her how she’s been feeling since the accident. It’s all forgotten—the inconvenient timing of Mom popping into the bedroom, that is.
“These pancakes are so good,” Lux says to Mom, carefully cutting up his food and poking it onto his fork. “I really appreciate you inviting me over.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem. I’m just happy to cook for someone other than myself. It’s hard to get motivated to make big meals for just one person.”
Lux nods, and I wonder if Mom’s pancakes will rate well in comparison to the ones at school and the ones he’s cooked for me. I have my own opinion of the matter.
“So,” Mom says after a brief pause. “There’s a reason why I wanted to bring you two over here today. I was going through some old boxes in the closet and I found something that belonged to your father, Chelsea, and thought you might like to have it.”
She rises and disappears back into the kitchen, returning with a small box that makes a jingling noise from whatever’s inside. When she hands it over to me, it’s heavier than I anticipated, the non-descript gray box not giving any hint as to what’s inside. I place it on the table and slowly pull off the lid, and inside is a dog tag on a chain with Dad’s name engraved on it, Mom’s maiden name, and their wedding anniversary.
“He couldn’t wear a ring to work because he worked with his hands so often,” Mom explains to Lux. “But he was always able to find a way to hide this under his shirt. I just thought- maybe you’d like to have it now that you’re not home anymore. Something to remind you of him and the way he was always so proud of you.”
By the time Mom gets to the end of what she’s saying, there are tears in my eyes. I run my finger along the inscription, feeling the little bumps of the letters. “I miss him. I wish he were sitting here with us right now.”
Mom nods, getting up and fetching a box of tissues. She places it on the middle of the table and grabs one before I’m able to. “Me too, honey.”
I close the box after one final look and clear my throat. Lux places a hand on my hand on top of the table, a much different sentiment underneath it than when he was touching my thigh earlier. Quirking my lip up in a half-smile, I heave in a deep breath and wipe my eyes with my other hand before changing the subject. Dad’s always been a touchy one, and I’ve always chosen to remember him in private and silence rather than with words spoken out loud. “Can we help you with the dishes?”
After helping clean up and while managing my own emotions as Lux seamlessly holds up the conversation, I break it to Mom that we’re going to be leaving to go to the real Patrick’s Cove before it gets too busy with tourists. Really, I’m glad to be getting out of the house because it’s making me think of Dad too much, and I know a trip to the cove with Lux is going to help me feel happier.
“Oh, that’s fine,” Mom replies, her tone back to being casual though her eyes are still a bit red around the edges from crying. “I was going to head on over to Sheila’s anyway. I’m just glad you two could make it out.”
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br /> “Me too, Mom.”
“It was nice to see you again, Lux. Under better circumstances this time.” Mom gives him a soft smile, one that is filled with recognizable forgiveness.
Lux offers her a grin back, one that almost looks relieved. “You as well. Thanks for brunch.”
With the box in my hand, Lux and I make our way out of the house and back into the car where I’ve left the purse that I rarely carry around with me. I set the package inside and zip it closed so the contents don’t fall out.
“So, which way?” Lux asks, backing around the driveway and the Ford Escape so he can drive straight out onto the highway. As we turn, I see the lines in the roadway from Mom’s accident. They’ve faded, but are still prominent on the blacktop, and I wonder if she looks at them and feels anxious like I do.
“Right.”
We drive for a way down the road, trees flashing by on either side, the occasional car or truck passing us on the opposite side of the highway. Patrick’s Cove as a town is pretty empty most of the time, but Patrick’s Cove as a tourist destination always seems to be packed. We twist and turn down a narrow road to get to the rocky part of the cove, complete with Strawberry Rhubarb Restaurant. I’m surprised when we get to the parking lot a few kilometers down the road and find it’s barely half-full.
Patrick’s Cove the tourist destination is a small jut of land with a few multicolored buildings, weathered by storms and rain and snow, with crooked roofs and artisan crafters that stay open from May until October depending on the temperature. The pavement is potholed and bumpy, the side of the road cracked, but the gravel parking lot is smooth in comparison.
Lux chooses a spot at the far end of the lot near the white rocks, and we park and turn off the engine to sit in the silence of the sea. All around us are massive boulders, tall and reaching up into the sky, the occasional person climbing on them and walking out toward the space where the water reaches the land. You’re not supposed to walk on the black rocks. They’re dangerous because that’s where the ocean reaches, and rogue waves have washed people away. There are signs, but many people never follow the warnings.
“So, this is Patrick’s Cove,” Lux breathes. “It reminds me of Newfoundland.”
“I thought you might say that. Come on, let’s go for a walk.” I open the door to the car and let in the sea smell, mixed with the scent of fresh bread coming from the restaurant. Lux does the same, shutting the car doors and locking them with a beep, and the two of us make our way across the gravel lot toward the ivory rocks jutting up, climbing over them and feeling the wind in our hair and on our faces. My thin espadrilles aren’t the best for rocks, but it’s not like we’re going to be traipsing around out here for hours.
We walk along the shoreline of Patrick’s Cove for a few minutes in silence, a few other people passing us by but keeping their distance. In my head, I can’t help but think about Dad, the chain and dog tag in my purse in the car, and what he must have been thinking the day he got it engraved. I wonder if Mom’s right, if he would be proud of me and my choices. I wonder if he would like Lux. I wonder if he would, well, a lot of things. More than anything though, I wish. I wish he was here.
It’s funny because I don’t think about him often, and he hadn’t crossed my mind in a while, but now that I have a piece of his memory, my mind almost feels at ease.
Without any warning, Lux slips his hand into mine. “What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking about Dad. And I’m thinking about how I wanted to be someone else this year. When I met you, I wanted to be a different person.”
“You’re the perfect person just the way you are, you know.”
“Maybe I know that now. I think I’ve changed just enough to feel reinvented without feeling like I don’t recognize myself.”
Lux stops walking, so I do, too. The wind picks up, blowing my hair around my face, and I use my free hand to rein in the strands before they start getting tangled. He watches in both amusement and desire. I’ve learned to recognize the look in his eyes from the short time we’ve been together. It’s something that makes my stomach twitch, unlike I’ve ever felt before. I can’t help but notice the scent of pancakes is mixed in with the wind. It’s probably from Strawberry Rhubarb, but I choose to think that it’s from Mom’s house, stuck on our clothes and making the sea salt smell like brunch.
“Je t’aime jusqu’au fond de la mer.” Lux’s eyes sparkle. I love to you to the bottom of the sea. The declaration makes my heart beat fast, the French words twirling around in my mind. He loves me. But do I love him? Do my feelings exist that deeply, that intensely, that passionately?
Of course they do. So I reply the best way I know how.
“Je t’aime jusqu’au sommet du ciel.”
I love him to the bottom of the sea but also to the top of the sky. I love him everywhere. I love him through all things, through all dances, through every triple-step, and all the Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, and Norah Jones songs in the world. It’s a love greater than the competition for the best pancakes and every empty bottle of Moscato, because it’s ours.
And as the brilliant sun trips the light fantastic on the crystal waters of the windy cove, Lux pulls me in for a kiss on the shoreline. A kiss that reminds me I am more than just having love. I, too, am love itself—formed together from sea salt breezes and gauzy curtains and the smell of rubber burning on the highway.
About the Author
NICOLE BEA is a technical writer, poet, and author who focuses on deep stories to dig into: books that include romance, honesty, hope, and self-discovery. An avid storyteller since childhood, she has honed her skills through a variety of educational programs, most recently engaging in coursework about communication for technologists. She loves books of all shapes and sizes but has a soft spot for short reads and anything featuring ghosts or cats.
When Nicole isn’t busy writing or catching up on her To Be Read pile, she can usually be found gardening or perusing the shelves of a used bookstore. She and her husband share their home in Eastern Canada with a collection of multi-colored cats and a lifetime’s worth of books.
You can connect with me on:
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