by Jolene Perry
I’m standing here, willing something to come. Something worthy of Mom. The only mom I’ll ever have. The best mom in the universe and I can’t come up with something to write.
I suck in a deep, long breath. Focus. Mom. Simple. I step to a small pile of driftwood and get a stick.
The tide’s starting to come back in. I write in big letters.
Miss You
Simple. Just for her. Tears drop down my face. I never thought I’d ever have this much crying in me. Ever. I walk around to the top of my large letters to sit on the edge of the dry sand. The wind and harsh clouds both feel as if they’re beating into me. I wait. It feels etched into my brain, under my chest, onto my soul. My teeth start chattering, and I wrap my arms wrap more tightly around me.
The waves touch the bottom of the letters, and I jump to standing. My heart frantic. No, wait. I’m not ready. But there’s nothing I can do. My chest sinks. My gut caves in until I’m sure I’ll puke. This was a damn stupid idea. What the hell was I thinking?
I run to the bottom of my message, but that doesn’t stop the waves. My shoes get soaked with the next one. No, no no! I’m not ready! The tide’s coming in too fast. There’s nothing I can do. I’m helpless. Just like I was when she sent me here. Just like I was when she died in that plane, and just like I am now. Get a grip, Antony. They’re just letters in the sand.
I see a flash of blond out of the corner of my eye.
Tears of relief come. I don’t even care that Amber’s here to see me cry. She’s here. She doesn’t hesitate, stepping into the cold water. The bottom half of the letters are gone. Her arms wrap around me from behind, and she holds me.
My arms cross in front of me so my hands can take her hands. Our fingers slide together. She’s so warm.
“It’s coming in too fast,” I explain.
“It’s okay.” Her face presses into me. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not ready.”
“No one’s ever ready for this.”
“It’s just stupid letters,” I whisper.
Amber’s arms tighten around my waist.
Let her go.
And I do. The last bits of my lettering is erased by a frigid wave that soaks us to our knees. Amber doesn’t move, doesn’t waver. The tears are hot on my cheeks, but it’s like this steel cage that’s been trapped in my chest starts to dissolve, loosen. It’ll be slow, but it’ll happen.
“You’ll be okay.” Amber’s arms tighten. “I promise.”
And in the freezing cold, as the last bits of my message to Mom are soaked up by the ocean, I believe her.
Twenty-Two
“I sent the first few chapters of your book to my literary agent,” Dad says.
“What?” I take another long drink of coffee. I feel hung over from my day yesterday. From crying with Amber in the sand, soaked and freezing. From letting some of Mom go. It’s left me feeling raw and hollowed out, but lighter. I’m actually going to be moving forward now.
“My lit agent. It’s not what he reps, but he has a good friend he wanted to pass it along to, if that’s okay.”
“Uh…”
“Did you not want it to be published?” Dad asks.
“No. I mean, yeah, I did. He liked it?”
“He loved it. Then he teased me about being the commercial fiction writer I am when my son’s sure to win awards.”
“Holy Shit.”
Dad peers over his glasses as if in warning.
“Sorry.”
“Can he pass it along?”
“Yeah.” I’m stunned. In shock. Someone loves my writing. Someone who doesn’t know me.
“Good.” Dad smiles. “It’s a nice way to make a living.”
“Guess so.” I nod and look at our surroundings.
“You never thought I made much, did you?”
“I…”
“I don’t make what your mom did, that’s for sure. But I’m a saver, always have been.”
“Oh.”
“You’ll far surpass me, I’m sure. Not that it’s about money.”
“You’re on an Oyster, Dad. And I’m starting to learn that’s kind of a big deal.”
His grin is proud. “You got me there.” His eyes go back to his computer.
“Lit agent. Crazy. Thanks, Dad.”
“I’m so proud of you, Antony.” Our eyes meet again. And the thing that hits me now is I’m looking into Dad’s eyes for real, they’re the same brown eyes as Mom’s, but really, the same brown eyes as mine. I wonder how much more we have in common.
- - -
Five emails a day. Ten if I really want it. This is what I tell myself. It’s been three days since my day at the beach. Amber’s cramming for her finals. I don’t take home-school classes that force finals. I’m pretty much done with school. Dropping a few tears is part of email and mail and all that, but I’m surviving it. It’s not searing like it was. It’s almost like resignation, or maybe that love’s so mixed in with the sadness that it feels different.
Dad’s voice mixes with Amber’s on the back deck. I close the computer. Today I’ll be done with five.
I watch Amber through the crack in the door as I sit at the table. She’s talking with Dad in her light bubbly voice. She’s wearing what she always does, but her hair looks shinier or something, and I think she even might have put on some makeup. I can see her lashes from here.
“You two have fun.” She waves as Dad steps off the boat and meets Lynn on the dock.
Our eyes catch through the door, and like a moron, I’m frozen to the spot. This isn’t like me at all. I don’t freeze around girls. Especially not ones I like. Especially not ones like…well, Amber is how I was going to finish that, but I guess she’s the only girl who has made me freeze.
“Hey.” Her voice is soft, smooth, sexy even. Amber can be sexy. I just don’t think she ever means to be. Maybe that’s part of the appeal. She steps easily down the steep stairs, closing the outside door behind her.
My heart starts hammering. Hard. What’s different? Amber and I have hung out loads of times.
“Cat got your tongue?” She smirks.
She’s definitely wearing makeup, and my eyes go from her face to her throat. She has a nice neck. Long and slender like the rest of her. She swallows twice.
“Does anyone say that anymore?”
Her cheeks warm to a soft pink. “I think I just did.” But her voice doesn’t have the sarcastic bite I expect.
“Where did our parents take off to?” I ask.
“Movie, in Tacoma.”
“In Tacoma?” We have hours. Half the night.
“Yeah.” The whisper barely escapes her lips.
And there’s no way she isn’t thinking the same thing I’m thinking. We’re alone, and she wants to be here.
I drop my pencil, stand up, and now I’m looking down on her. The warmth of her radiates and touches me before I touch her. This is so intense, like a movie or something. Maybe now I’m supposed to keep it this way.
Our lips touch and it’s electric, hitting me hard. Our kiss deepens as I slide my arms around the curve of her waist.
She breaks away, the sound of our breathing between us and nothing else. Our faces are close. Her hands still clutch the back of my shirt. Her eyes are down, and I want to kiss her everywhere. Her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her soft lips.
“What’s different?” I ask because something’s different.
“I just…” her eyes drift toward the ceiling. “When we were at the airport, Hélèna…”
I hold in a chuckle. “Going to tell me now what you two talked about?”
“She said you loved me. She said that I should loosen up, that you’d take good care of me, and that I shouldn’t be so afraid of first experiences.” Amber’s eyes finally meet mine. There’s some
thing like determination on her features, but she still manages to look soft, kissable.
And the warmth of it spreads through my chest. Love. “She had a couple things right. My throat starts to close up, but I need to get it out. “I probably suck at taking care of people, but I want to take care of you. Though, I can’t imagine you needing anything I have to give.” My mouth is open, but how do I make the words come?
Everything about Amber is soft, vulnerable. This isn’t something I’m used to seeing from her. Her mouth is soft, her eyes, even her body is relaxed as she stands. Watching. Waiting for words to come from the guy who loves his words so much. And now to say the most important thing, he can’t find them.
“I love you.” This is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done in my life. More life-changing than anything I’ve ever done with any other girl. Ever.
She takes the last small step until she’s standing between my legs as I lean against the table, her arms slide around my back and our faces come together. We stand, still for a moment. Long enough for me breathe in the fresh scent of her, the faint smell of her minty toothpaste.
Her eyes blink frantically for a few moments, enough that I know she’s trying not to cry. I’m sort of amazed I have this affect on her. “I love you,” she whispers.
I try to memorize her face, her smile, every feature. This is the most real, un-horrible moment I’ve ever been in the middle of. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
She snorts, such an Amber thing, and her eyes look down.
“I’m serious.”
“Right. I’ll never believe that, not after seeing Hélèna.”
“You’re everything, Amber. You’re beautiful. Inside and out, in a way that no one I’ve ever known…” The memory of Mom hits me hard, right through my chest. “My mom would have adored you. She’d be so happy to see me like this. I think it’s what she wanted for me when she sent me out here to begin with.” I don’t have to shove Mom away anymore. She’s here, but not chained like a weight as she used to be.
“For you to fall in love with the girl next door?” Her blue eyes find mine again. Nothing but tease sparkling in them.
I try to hold in my smile. “I don’t know. But, she’d love you.”
Amber’s arms tighten around me.
“Stay here tonight. I’ll tell your mom anything. I’ll say that I saw Mom on TV or something and didn’t want to be alone, even though it’ll make me sound like a total wimp.” I can’t imagine her leaving me tonight.
“It won’t make you sound like a wimp. It’ll make you sound sensitive.”
I laugh. “That’s girl talk. It’s okay. I don’t mind sounding like a wimp. Not for you.” I trace the side of her tanned face.
“You want me to stay?”
“If you kiss me.” I smirk.
“Just one?” Her lips are close. So close we almost touch.
“Maybe a few more than one…” I press our lips together, but she laughs.
And man, feeling this much makes me miss Mom, but now I know there’s more. I also don’t mind that they’re mixed. Every time I think about Mom it’ll be mixed, and that’s okay. I believe there’s more. More life, more love, more to look forward to. And even this, with Amber. It’s a first for me cause I’ve never been in love before. Not even close.
Twenty-Three
I’ve finished the work for my senior year, and graduation is a bit anti-climactic, but at least high school’s over. Seems like a good time to finally sit down with the stack of real mail and start opening. There’s a lot to go through. They each used to feel and look like a weight. Now they’re a challenge—something to conquer and take care of.
I open the attorney’s first. It’s exactly what I expect. It all comes to me. All the millions she’s kept stashing. The apartment’s mine. The car’s mine. It’s all mine. I feel the way I knew I would. I don’t want any of it. I want Mom. But the knowledge that I don’t get to have her, doesn’t hit as hard as it did a week ago.
There are some small life insurance checks deposited into her account that I didn’t know about. Her accountant has sent close to twenty envelopes. I’m beyond what the bank will insure. Where do I want the money? Please contact him right away.
Two more offers have been made on the apartment. The figures are high. What am I going to do? Go back to New York? Continue to hide on Dad’s boat?
No. I can’t keep hiding. I have to get back to New York. And soon.
- - -
Once I make the decision for real, I’m frantic to get started. To get out of here. I pack in minutes.
Dad hugs me tightly, and I hug him with the same force. Sucks that we didn’t take the time to know one another before now.
“If you need help with anything out there, you call and I’ll be there.” His hand stays on my shoulder. “I plan on coming in a month or two no matter what, okay?”
It’s not condescending like I would have taken it not long ago. “Thanks.”
“You need a ride to the airport?”
“I called a car.”
He smirks. “I’ll bet you did.” He knows I haven’t hardly spent a penny of my new money. “Amber?”
I shrug. “I got her a seat on the plane, but I don’t know if she’ll take it.”
“If she doesn’t now, I bet she will later.” He ruffs up my hair just like Mom used to do.
“Maybe.”
“Love you, son.”
“Love you, Dad.” I put my arms around him one last time before stepping off the back of the boat. Alone. Dad knows this is how I want to go, and he gets it. He gets me. Finally.
As I make my way to Amber’s, my heart’s banging in my ribs, telling me that something big is about to happen. Please let it be something good. So far this feeling has gotten me nothing but disappointment or tragedy.
I knock on the door of Amber’s boat and wait.
She steps out with a smile that falls as she takes in my expression, and the bag slung over my shoulder.
“What’re you doing?” she asks. Her eyes are wary, scared.
She has a right to look this way. The old me would’ve just left. “I have some loose ends to wrap up in New York.”
Her brows pull together, like I knew they would. “You’re…leaving?”
I have to get the words out. “Come with me.” Please, please come with me.
Her head snaps up. “What?”
“Come. With me. My mom’s…well, I have a place to stay and stuff to sort. You don’t have to. I mean, I’m sure I won’t be much fun, but it needs to be done, and…I can’t imagine doing it alone. I know I’m asking too much of you here. To leave, and I promise you can go home anytime—”
“Why are you asking me?” Her voice is still wary.
“What?” Does it matter?
“Are you asking me because you want me there? Or because you feel like you should because you don’t want to upset me?”
Honesty. “Because I’m a selfish jerk-off, and I really need you with me. I love you.”
I don’t even see her coming and our lips are together. I pull her close, and the relief I feel at knowing she wants to hold me like this is like nothing I’ve ever felt.
She pulls away, but keeps our faces together. I keep my eyes closed, soaking up the feeling of her, in case she can’t follow me right now. “If you want to think about it, I can bring you out to visit in a few days, or a few weeks, or—”
“How long do I have to pack?”
“What?” She might do this.
“How long do I have to pack?”
My heart’s thrumming. The pounding dread from a few minutes ago has been replaced with something infinitely better. “A few minutes?”
“Wait there.” She spins around and disappears.
I stand on the back deck of her
boat, feeling needy and undeserving, but also knowing I don’t want to do it alone. I’m also wondering when or if she’ll ever see how one-sided this relationship is because I’m definitely the one who got the best deal.
In less than five minutes, she’s on the back of the boat with a large backpack over her shoulder. “Take me to New York.”
“You’re amazing, you know that? Amazing.” Everything Amber and I have been through was worth it for how I feel in this moment.
“Don’t you dare forget it.” She kisses my cheek, takes my hand, and we leave together.
And that’s it. Knowing me. Knowing my faults and all, without question, she’s following me from her home. I squeeze her hand, promising both of us I won’t screw it up.
Two Months Later…
Dad –
Thanks again for making it all okay that I took off the way I did. Mom’s apartment is sold. I hate the thought of leaving that place, but there was no good way to live there either. I’m moving into my new apartment in the village tomorrow. Smaller. The place is barely two bedrooms and pretty much no kitchen, which suits me just fine. Amber insisted she needs her own room, and she’s still thinking about living in the dorms this year. Please talk her out of that.
It’s not too far from here for Amber to get to NYU. Which brings me to my next point. I know I said I’d get to school, but the book I’m finishing about Mom comes out near the end of this semester (yeah, crazy rush) and that’s going to bring all sorts of craziness. Your lit agent hooked me up with another agent here I really like. I sent him the same two books I emailed to you, and he can’t wait to get started.
I’m missing Amber so much. You can tell her I’m pathetic without her here. Sounds like she’ll be back next week.
And seriously, Dad. You and Lynn need to get married already.
Love you,
Antony
Two Years Later…
The silk of Amber’s dress is smooth under my fingertips, and I slide my hands up and down her back.
She fingers the lapels of my tux. “That was quite a wedding.”