Destiny Ever-Changing

by Ivey , Tasha

"I just know it will never be you."

  Jacqueline seems to find humor in that. "Oh, Joshua!" she yells in fake ecstasy, loud enough for anyone in the house to hear.

  "Shut up! What are you doing?" I jerk away from her.

  A scheming smirk is the only response I get in return. "Yes, Joshua! Yes!"

  "I mean it, Jacqueline," I scowl. "Stop it!"

  She suddenly shoves me up against the wall between two streams of water. "Harder!" Her hands begin traveling downward.

  Just before she touches me, I reach up and turn one of the showerheads right toward her head, soaking her hair and causing her makeup to run. She screams as if the water is acid and runs out of the bathroom, not even bothering to pick up her clothes or grab a towel.

  "That has to be the funniest thing I have seen all week," I chuckle to myself. "If I could just walk around with a garden hose all the time, I would be alright."

  I quickly finish my shower and throw on my clean clothes. As soon as I walk into the den to get Will, I can tell he heard the whole charade. His eyes immediately dart to the floor as soon as he sees me coming toward him.

  "You heard that, didn't you?" I ask.

  "What?"

  "Jacqueline's yelling. Don't play dumb."

  Will bursts into laughter, slides off the couch, and rolls on the floor.

  "Chill, man. We weren't really—"

  "I know, I know. I could hear what you were saying, too," he explains, trying to catch his breath. "The funny part was watching her streak through the house like a drowned rat!"

  "You saw that, huh?"

  "Mmm-hmm . . . the most terrifying beast I've ever seen."

  I help him up off the floor. "Let's get out of here before things get real interesting."

  Then, something happens that reminds me why Will is my best friend. As we walk through the kitchen to go to the garage, we see Jacqueline pouring a glass of wine at the bar. Will picks up her full glass of chardonnay and gulps down every drop while she gapes at him with her mouth wide open. Once the glass is empty, he hands it to her and picks up the open wine bottle off the countertop.

  "Thanks," he tells her with a wink as he takes a swig from the nearly full bottle. Then, while whistling a made-up tune, he pushes it into my hand and ushers me into the garage, closing the door behind us. Jacqueline doesn't say a word, but the wine glass shattering on the other side of the door speaks volumes. Even though I'll be the one to clean up that mess, the look on her face is well worth it.

  Chapter Thirteen — The Cove

  Laura:

  May 30, 1978

  I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this journal business. I never exactly understood why people wrote in journals, but it's especially nice to share my thoughts, even if I'm the only one that will ever read them . . . I hope. So, Mom, you better not be reading this!

  Anyway, I met Joe to go swimming yesterday. I was a little hesitant about it at first, but I decided that going would be better than having to sit here with my mom and dad all day. I'm glad I did. He's really something special and quite a looker. He told me to meet him at the cave at nine o'clock, but I could see him walking around on the beach behind my house when I was putting my cereal bowl in the kitchen sink. I was surprised, to say the least. I literally ran to my bedroom to put on my swimsuit, finally deciding on my red halter bikini, and went out to meet him. He looks like a surfer since he's tanned and thin, and the ends of his golden brown hair are turning blonde from sun exposure.

  We walked in silence most of the way to the cave. I think he was as nervous as I was, but the closer we got, the more we talked. He didn't tell me many details about himself, but he sure was interested in everything about me. I've never been around any boys like that. All the ones that I have gone out with only wanted to talk about themselves. I told him all about my boring life (it only took about three minutes), and then, he wanted to know even more. He asked my favorite color, food, music, hobby . . . everything.

  Once I was ready to start firing questions back at him, we reached our destination. Just past the rocks that lead to the cave, there is a perfect little cove where the waves aren't very strong, and the water is fairly deep. Perfect for swimming. We swam and talked until about two o'clock, finally stopping only because we were starving. We walked down the beach to a hotdog cart at the public swimming area, and he bought us some lunch. Come to think of it, I've never had a guy buy a meal for me either. I think I could get used to that kind of treatment.

  After we ate, we walked back to the cove, sat at the edge of the surf, and talked about school for a while. He actually graduated high school already, and he's getting ready to head off to college at the end of the summer. I didn't ask where, though. He seems to get uncomfortable when I ask questions about him, and I don't know why. He gives vague answers. Maybe, he's just not used to talking about himself, who knows.

  After a bit, we got back in the water. He was more playful that time, and we had a lot of fun splashing and dunking each other under water. The most amazing thing happened while we were playing around. Okay, it could have been more amazing, but it was pretty exciting for me. We were wrestling around in the water, and Joe, in an effort to keep me from splashing him again, wrapped his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides. But, he pulled me so close to him and just stared at me for a minute. Not smiling . . . just staring. I swear he almost kissed me. I've been hugged and kissed by a boy before, of course, but that was different. I get butterflies just thinking about it. He finally started tickling me, and that moment was over. We didn't get that close again.

  We started looking for seashells after that, while I vented a little about my mundane life and how I didn't know what I wanted to do with it. He found some pretty ones and gave them to me, but, on our way back home, he found an even better one. It was a conch shell, about half the size of my fist. He told me that the conch shell has mystical properties, and it awakens the heart. He said that it might help me to, at least, feel better about my life. And I must say, just holding it makes me feel better. I still can't believe that he walked me home, too. Just before we reached my house, he took my hand and held it until I had to go inside. It was the best day I've ever had.

  Today, he said he might come by, if he could get out of doing some family stuff. I hope he can.

  Regina

  I close my mom's journal and lie back on my pillows. The whole thing is getting a little too creepy for me. I was just there at that cove today with Brooks; although, I didn't look for seashells. It appears that I'll be going back to the cove tomorrow, and just maybe, I'll be able to find a conch shell. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm crazy for doing everything my mother talked about in her journal, but then again, I've never been known for my sanity.

  Falling asleep proves to be more difficult than I hoped. I should be considerably exhausted after a day of walking, climbing, and swimming, but my mind just won't shut down. This whole mess with Brooks is making me elated and annoyed at the same time. I don't know why I agreed to remain friends with him after the way he's been acting, but he looked so downtrodden and miserable. I couldn't make myself reject him.

  Perhaps, I feel sorry for him because of the situation that he is in, but at the same time, I do need to keep some shred of dignity in all of this. I make a vow to myself that this is his final chance to be my friend. If things between us get tumultuous again, we're done . . . end of story. It's much easier being assertive and sure of myself when he's not around.

  In what seems like fifteen minutes, I suddenly sit up in my bed to find the room flooded with golden sunlight. I slept so deeply that I don't remember a single dream, and as I try to stand, I become fairly certain that I didn't even change positions in my sleep. My legs and back are resistant to the slightest movements, and my muscles are screaming with every slight contraction, forcing me to flashback to the rock climbing I did yesterday. I must be extremely out of shape.

  Looking at the clock, I debate on how closely I want to follow what my mother did
. She was going to meet Joe at nine o'clock that morning, which would give me an hour before I need to leave. I also have to decide on how long I want to be there. I don't think I could spend the entire day there by myself without getting a little stir crazy. I suppose I will just see how it all pans out. I can always leave if I get bored.

  I open my closet to pick out a swimsuit, and I smile when I spot a red one. It has a string bikini top, and the bottoms are tiny shorts with a thin, black belt—not quite like my mom's, but close enough. I pull the swimsuit and a breezy, white sundress out of the closet and put them on. After running a brush through my hair, I fill my mesh beach bag with everything I'll need for the day: two towels, a book, sunscreen, cell phone, money, sunglasses, and an oversized water bottle. I lock my bedroom door behind me and head over to eat some breakfast and check on Nana.

  When I walk in the house, I'm relieved to not smell breakfast cooking. Looks like she's holding up her end of the bargain. I hear the sewing machine whirring upstairs, so I go on into the kitchen to scavenge for a quick meal. After devouring a piece of toast with peanut butter slathered over the top, I carry my plate to the sink and wash it. As I carefully place my plate in one of the slots in the dish rack, I peer out of the window—almost expecting to see someone waiting for me—and I laugh at myself. I fill my water bottle to the brim and put it and two apples in my bag.

  In just under an hour, I make my way to the little cove, knowing that I had already burned off my insubstantial breakfast. I wonder if it would be cheating to start driving to all of these places. Thankfully, the sun is still low in the sky, so the temperature is bearable and actually almost cool. I walk around to the middle of the cove, lay one of my towels out, and smear sunscreen all over. I don't mind getting a little bit of a tan, but in case I spend the full day out here, I want to prevent sunburn at all costs.

  At first, I lie back on my towel and close my eyes, breathing in the fresh, briny air. The sounds of delicate waves and seagulls squawking in the distance are washing a mellow tranquility over me, and a slight breeze tickles my skin, feeling like tiny fingers grazing my body.

  Even though I have spent quite a bit of my time on the beach over the last few days, this is the first time that I have felt this serene and at peace with myself. Even through all of the turmoil that my life has been in, I finally feel stronger and . . . happy. Ill-advised decisions and a string of flawed relationships have led me here, and I now realize that I wouldn't have it any other way. Regret won't get me anywhere. I'm finally learning that the decisions that I have made are shaping me into a new person, and I am okay with that.

  The sun is gradually creeping up, and the temperature is following its lead. Instead of baking in the sun, I decide that my best bet is to find some shade, so I pick up my bag and pull my towel over to the tree line's protective shadow. Facing the water, I lie on my stomach and pull out my book—the latest of my favorite romance series—and promptly immerse myself within the convoluted plot between the helpless heroine and her brawny rescuer. I easily connect with the female character since her story is similar to my own: not raised by her parents, one unfaithful lover after another, and a fervent desire to reinvent herself. Finding myself is a discovery that has proven to be more than difficult, but I'm getting there.

  "I thought you said that you weren't a stalker," a low familiar voice says breathlessly.

  Startled, I drop my book and look up. The sun is glaring right next to his head, so he is hard to see, but I know Brooks's voice when I hear it. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

  "I like to run on the beach at least a few days a week. You?"

  I stand and brush the sand off my legs. "Oh, you know, another mission." Now that I am able to see him without squinting, the scenery is even better than the waterscape. He is only wearing a pair of black, knee-length athletic shorts and running shoes. Sweat glistens all over his broad shoulders and smooth chest, and his pronounced pectoral muscles and defined abs rhythmically contract as he attempts to regain a steady respiration. Snapping myself out of it before he catches me staring, I focus my gaze on his and smile.

  "Ah, I see. So your mom spent her day out here reading a book by herself?"

  "Well, it's a little more complicated than that. She swam here with the mysterious Joe for a good part of that day, went up to the public beach for lunch, and hunted for seashells. Since I don't have any company, I've just settled for reading a book, for now."

  "Would you like some company? I can't stay long, but I do have some time."

  I shrug. "Only if you want to. I don't want to keep you from your run."

  Instead of giving an answer, he situates himself on one side of my towel and pats the empty space beside him, so I sit back down. He nudges me with his elbow. "You said your mom went swimming with the guy, so you want to swim? I swear I'll keep my pants on this time. Strictly G-rated, I promise."

  I snicker. "Why not." I force myself back to my feet and pull my sundress off over my head, feeling a bit self-conscious. Instead of coming off in one easy motion, my hair tangles around one of the buttons, and before I can say or do anything, I feel Brooks's fingers at my back and freeing my hair. Then, in a strangely sensual way, he carefully slips the remainder over my head.

  "Thanks," I say, repeating to myself that we are only friends.

  He only nods as he folds my dress in half neatly, lays it out on my towel, and kicks off his shoes. "Let's go."

  I slowly wade out, chills spreading in waves across my skin as I walk deeper into the cool water. "So, you mentioned that you can't stay long. What do you have planned today?"

  Brooks sinks into the water up to his shoulders. "A better question would be what do you have planned today? Remember the get-together I told you about last night?"

  "You're looking at my plans for the day. When and where?"

  "Tonight at my house . . . probably around six. You'll get to meet my sister, Ashton. She flew in late last night. I didn't even get to bed until three this morning."

  "Wow," I exclaim. "How are you even awake right now?"

  He chuckles. "I don't exactly know. I woke up at seven, so I'll probably try to squeeze in a nap this afternoon, if I have time. I still have to go get all of the food, get everything prepared, clean up around the house, and shower, too."

  "Can I bring something? I hate knowing you have all of that to do by yourself."

  He shakes his head. "No, I like to. The busier I am, the less time I have to wallow in my own self-pity."

  "I definitely know what that's like," I say, twisting my mouth to the side. "Okay, I can't put off this question any longer. Who else will be there?"

  "Hmm . . . well, me, Will, Ashton, you . . ."

  "Jacqueline?"

  "Most likely, yes. Is that a deal breaker?"

  "Not entirely, but I may not stay long if she's around."

  Brooks dips his head under the water and resurfaces. "That's why I'm rarely there. She's usually on her best behavior when there's company, though, so you shouldn't have anything to worry about. Besides, if you hang out with Will, Jacqueline won't even speak to you, I'm sure. He's really been pushing her buttons lately. And, he just went through a break-up, too, so he could use some friendly conversation."

  I can sense that there has been some scheming behind the scenes. "Why do I get the feeling that you're setting me up with Will?"

  He jokingly pokes my shoulder. "Maybe because I kinda am. I'm not expecting you two to hook up or get married or anything. I just know that both of you can use someone to talk to right now."

  I can only glare at him wordlessly.

  "Don't give me that look, Laura Carey. I know you're not looking for a relationship with him. I'm just saying that maybe he can be there for you some when I can't be. And, who knows what the future may bring. Just get to know him and see what happens, okay?"

  Nodding only half-heartedly, I agree. "Why are you even bothering with all of this? Isn't he only here visiting?"

  "Will is my best frie
nd, and you . . . are, too. I have never seen him treat a woman poorly in any way; women usually take advantage of him. I know with all of my heart that he will treat you the way that you deserve, and he will be protective of you, the same way that he's always looked out for me. And, being completely honest, if I can't be with you, I want to know that someone will take care of you and be there for you. I know that if you and Will hit it off, he'll do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if that includes moving here." Brooks looks around nervously and runs his fingers through his hair.

  "Fine," I say, playfully poking him back. "But I won't make any promises."

  "Good. Now, before things get too depressing, what's next on the list? I have to go soon."

  I can tell that he is uncomfortable with setting me up with Will, but neither of us has to reiterate the fact that we'll never be able to have what we both want. "You don't have to stay and do all of this with me, you know. I never planned on that being part of the deal, too."

  He swims in circles around me. "Nonsense. I still have time. What's next?" He flashes that playful grin that I'm beginning to love so much.

  "Well, we don't have time to hunt down a hotdog cart, so how about an apple? Then, we could walk back, and I'll look for seashells along the way."

  "Sounds like a plan to me. I'll drive you home on my way into town."

  We begin wading toward the shore. "Brooks, my house is not on the way into town."

  "I know, but it's not far out of the way. No one will be at my house, either, so you have no reason to worry. Jacqueline is shopping in Norfolk, and Will is about to take Ash back to the airport to pick up her luggage. The airline couldn't find it last night."

  "Fine, you win." I plop down on my towel and reach for my bag, extracting the two apples and extending one to Brooks. The first bite I take sends a trickle of juice down my chin, and he swiftly wipes it away with his thumb and winks.

  After finishing our meager lunch, we gather up my things and head back, walking along the water's edge to search for interesting shells. I find several shells that are multicolored, some having a pearl-like sheen to them. Brooks finds only broken shells or plain brown ones.