by Becky Citra
“I can’t kick anymore,” Grace says.
I measure the distance to the shore with my eyes. I can make that. I know I can.
But Grace can’t.
“I’m going to swim to shore,” I say. “I’m going to get help.”
Grace is silent.
I take a big breath.
“You’ve got to hang on,” I say.
“I will,” Grace says. She sounds scared. But she also sounds very, very brave.
• • • • •
Every time I put my head up for a breath, a wave splashes into my mouth. My arms and legs aren’t working properly. They’re numb with the cold. It’s hard to keep straight. The waves keep pushing me sideways.
I count my strokes. When I get to one hundred, I start over again. I pretend I’m in a race and the crowd is cheering me on.
The next wave shoots water up my nose too. I choke and sputter and my nose burns. I can’t do this.
Then I think about Grace. If she can be brave, I can be brave too.
My arms feel like wood, but I force them to move.
Stroke, stroke, stroke.
When my feet can finally touch the bottom, I stand up. I bend over at my waist and suck in air. Then, my heart pounding, I look out at the lake.
For a second, I only see gray water and my breath catches in my throat. At last, I spot Grace, bobbing up and down in the whitecaps.
I wave my arms over my head. I pray that she sees me.
I gaze around wildly. The beach and walkway are deserted. There’s no one to help me. No one.
I break into a run. The gravel stings my bare feet. But I keep running. I run all the way to the Top Notch Café. The closed sign is on the door.
I burst inside. Mom and Daphne are sitting at a table, drinking coffee.
“Grace is drowning!” I scream.
Chapter Thirty
My mom can run like the wind. I never knew that about her before. By the time we get to the beach, I have a stitch in my side and I can barely breathe.
Grace is still clinging to the wrecked raft. She looks tiny in the wild gray water, and so far away. Mom doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Stay right here,” she says. “I’m serious, Hope. Don’t move.” Then she plunges into the lake. She plows through the waves, heading straight towards Grace.
“She’s coming, Grace!” I scream, even though I know she can’t hear me. “Mom’s coming!”
I jump up and down, shivering like crazy.
Soon all I can see are Mom’s arms, dipping in and out of the choppy water. Sometimes I can’t even see that. I’m terrified that Mom won’t get there in time.
But she does. Her dark head pops up beside Grace. My breath comes out with a whoosh and my legs turn to jelly.
At first, it looks like Mom and Grace are swimming back together. But when they get closer, I can see that Grace is hanging onto the end of one of the boards from the raft and Mom is towing her.
By now a few other people have gathered at the edge of the lake, a man with a dog, a jogger, two girls with bicycles, and Daphne, red-faced and puffing. Everyone is silent, watching.
Mom and Grace reach shallow water. Mom helps Grace stand up and they stumble out of the lake. Mom’s arm is wrapped tightly around Grace’s shoulders.
“Hallelujah!” cries the man with the dog. Everybody claps.
A shiver runs up my back. I feel so proud of Mom. She is like a heroine in a book.
But I also feel scared. Grace’s face is gray, her lips blue. She is shaking from head to toe. She bends over and throws up on the beach.
Then she bursts into tears.
“I want Aunty Eve,” she sobs.
• • • • •
Aunty Eve is standing on the porch, gazing out on the street when we get to Grace’s house. We must look crazy, all of us in wet clothes, Mom and Grace still dripping. Aunty Eve stares at us, her face draining of color. “Where on earth have you been?” she cries.
Grace kind of collapses onto Aunty Eve. Aunty Eve folds her into a huge hug. I can tell that she doesn’t care one wit that Grace is soaking the front of her dress. By now, Grace is crying really hard. Her shoulders are heaving. Aunty Eve strokes her hair and says, “It’s okay, Gracie. You’re okay.”
“The raft,” Grace chokes. “It got too deep…”
“Hush now,” Aunty Eve says. “You can tell me everything in a minute. Just be still right now. Take a big breath.”
It hits me then, something that I’ve been missing all along.
Aunty Eve loves Grace.
I think Mom sees it too. She’s watching them and her face is all mixed up with sadness and relief.
All of a sudden, I’m shivering like a leaf. Tears well up in the backs of my eyes.
“I think we should go,” Mom whispers. She takes my hand and squeezes it.
I bet Aunty Eve and Grace don’t even know that we’ve left.
• • • • •
Mr. Pinn wants to take Mom and me to a hospital.
“We’re not sick,” Mom says. “Just cold.”
We spend hours in the hot indoor pool, letting the heat soak into our bones.
Healing.
We talk about a lot of things. We talk about the raft and how it wasn’t my fault that we got too deep, even though I was in charge of the pole. We talk about how proud Mom is of me for the courage it took to swim to shore for help (as long as I know that I must never do something that dangerous again!). We talk about how much we miss Granny, and even cranky Jingle; and how Mom’s secret dream is to work in a florist shop; and how grade six is going to be a brand-new year and a fresh start. We talk about how Mom has never forgiven herself for giving up Grace.
I show Mom my tuck turns and she says that one day she might be watching me in the Olympics.
When we’re drying ourselves off with towels, Mom says, “We’ll go home tomorrow morning. Mr. Pinn is going to drive us.”
Tomorrow? A stupid lump forms in my throat.
The saddest part is that Grace will never know that it was her mother who saved her life.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mom and I are sitting by the fireplace in the lounge when Aunty Eve walks in. She scans the room, spots us and strides over.
“I want to thank you for what you did,” she says to Mom. “Grace told me the whole story. You put your own life in danger.”
“I’m just so glad she’s okay,” Mom says softly. “That’s all that matters.”
“Is it all right if I sit for a minute?”
“Of course,” Mom murmurs.
Aunty Eve settles beside us in an armchair. She folds her large brown hands in her lap.
“I know who you are,” she says calmly.
I gasp.
Aunty Eve smiles at me. “The first time I saw you, Hope, I wondered. I knew Grace had a twin sister who lived in Vancouver. And then I told myself it was too much of a coincidence.”
I’m too stunned to say a word.
“When did you figure it out?” Mom asks. She looks as surprised as me.
“When Hope was helping me with the pies,” Aunty Eve says. “I was sure then. You see, Grace and Hope are like two peas in a pod.”
I swallow. “We are?”
“Oh yes.”
“But...Grace is, well, prettier than me. And she hates jawbreakers, and she likes butterscotch ice cream, and she has best friends, and she doesn’t like to read and…and…her feet are much nicer!”
Aunty Eve and Mom burst out laughing.
“When you laugh,” Aunty Eve says, “the tips of your noses turn pink. And when you’re concentrating on piecrusts, you tilt your heads in exactly the same way! And there’s definitely a certain expression in your eyes
that I can’t describe, but it’s there. There’s something, just something, about you that says twins!”
“That’s amazing!” Mom says. She’s crying now. At the same time, she looks like she wants to hug Aunty Eve.
“I asked Grace what your last name was, Hope,” Aunty Eve says. “She said King. Then I knew I was right. I’ve been sending photographs of Grace to a Mrs. King in Vancouver for eight years.”
“My mother,” Mom says.
“You didn’t come to Harrison by accident,” Aunty Eve says. “You came to find Grace.” She says this, not like a question, but like something she knows is true.
“It was the photographer’s stamp on the back of the photographs that told us where she was,” Mom explains. “It said Harrison Hot Springs. Hope noticed that.”
“So that was it,” Aunty Eve says.
I am trying to soak this in. Aunty Eve knew all along. “Does Grace know?” I ask.
“No.” Aunty Eve hesitates. “Grace’s parents, her adoptive parents, were killed in a car accident. I expect you know that.”
Mom wipes her tears away. “Yes,” she says, “Yes, I do.”
“Her father died at the scene. But Sharon lived a few days in the hospital. I stayed by her side. Sharon didn’t really have any other family that mattered except for me. I told Sharon I would look after Grace. She made me promise not to tell Grace she was adopted until she was sixteen.”
Aunty Eve squeezes her hands together. “It was a promise that has been hard to keep. I don’t believe in keeping secrets from children. Especially that kind of secret. I’ve always felt Grace has the right to know. But there you are. I promised Sharon. So Grace has no idea that she has a mother and a twin sister.”
“I didn’t know about Grace, either,” I said. “I found out when the picture came in the mail to Granny after she died.”
“Your granny died? Oh, I am sorry. Sending the photographs to your grandmother was another promise I made Sharon.” She turns to Mom. “Sharon told me you didn’t know about the photographs. Another secret.”
“What happens now?” I ask.
“Everything’s changed,” Aunty Eve says. “I’d like to tell Grace. Sharon would understand.” She leans forward and touches Mom on the arm. “I’d like to tell Grace before you leave. Just in case she…” Aunty Eve hesitates. “If you agree.”
“Yes,” Mom says. Her voice is shaking.
“Of course, it might take Grace some time…”
“I understand,” Mom says.
Aunty Eve has a brown handbag with her. She reaches in and takes out a piece of paper and a pen and writes something. “My phone number,” she says, giving it to Mom. “We’ll talk. Lots. There’s so much to say. But right now I want to get back to Grace.”
She stands up. She leans over and hugs me, and then Mom. She smells faintly of lavender oil. It’s a nice smell.
“Thank you,” Mom whispers. “Thank you for everything.”
• • • • •
After supper, Mom and Mr. Pinn go for a walk. I pack my bag so I’ll be ready to leave in the morning. The last thing to go in is my stack of Dear Grace letters.
I sit on the edge of the bed and read them. Every single one. It feels like I’m reading about someone else. Not me. I feel different since I met Grace. I’m not sure how, but it’s something I want to think about.
Then I get an idea. I don’t know if it’s a good idea or a terrible idea. But I know that I’m going to do it.
I find a paper bag from Inkman’s in the wastebasket. I scoop up all the letters and put them inside. Then I dash out of the hotel before I can change my mind.
• • • • •
Aunty Eve opens the door when I knock.
“Hope,” she says.
It might be my imagination, but I think she looks worried.
“I’ve brought something for Grace.” I give Aunty Eve the paper bag of letters.
“I’ll make sure that she gets this,” Aunty Eve says.
Aunty Eve doesn’t ask me to come in. I’m not sure what to do next.
“Is Grace okay?”
“Of course. She’s just resting.” Aunty Eve sighs. “Hope, this just isn’t the best time. Maybe – ”
There’s movement behind Aunty Eve, at the end of the hallway. It’s Grace, in a blue dressing gown and fuzzy pink slippers. When she gets to the door, I can see that her eyes are red and swollen like she has been crying tons.
“What are you doing here?” she says furiously.
“I – ”
“Get out of my house. I mean it.”
“Grace,” Aunty Eve says.
Grace’s eyes blaze. “You’re a liar!”
“I didn’t lie. I – ”
“You can lie by not saying things too,” Grace spits out. “Was this supposed to be some kind of joke? Ha ha, let’s fool Grace!”
“No,” I whisper miserably.
“All this time you were pretending to be my friend.”
“It wasn’t pretend.”
“How could you do that to me? Get out of here! Now! I don’t ever want to see you again.”
I feel like I have been kicked in the stomach. It’s hard to breathe.
“GO!” Grace screams.
I am such a coward. I turn and run.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I cry myself to sleep, my face mushed into my pillow so Mom won’t hear.
In the morning, Mr. Pinn takes the car to gas up and check the tires. Mom goes to the Top Notch to have one last cup of coffee with Daphne.
I can’t eat anything and I don’t want to talk to anybody. I leave my suitcase in the lobby and go outside. I sit on a bench and stare at the lake.
How did everything go so wrong?
My eyes fill with tears. I open them wide and force the tears back. I don’t want to cry anymore. I’m sick of crying. And I’m very, very tired. I guess I just want to go home.
Someone sits down beside me.
I stare at ten bright red toes and then look up. It’s Grace.
“You wrote all those letters?” she says. “Are you crazier than I thought?”
I open my mouth to protest. But I can’t think of anything to say.
“You’re nuts,” Grace says. But she’s grinning and I feel myself start to smile too. “Cuckoo.”
“Did you read them all?” I say.
“Yup,” Grace says. “And you know how much I like to read! It took me a gazillion hours.”
I snort.
“Why did you do it?” Grace says.
I take a breath. No more secrets. “I don’t have a lot of friends,” I say. “Well, actually I don’t have any friends. So instead I write to you. It helps.”
“But Aunty Eve says you just found out about me. But you’ve got letters from years ago.”
“I made you up,” I say. “That’s what I thought. I started the letters in grade two as soon as I learned how to write. And then I found out you were real and now I think that part of me must have remembered you all along.”
It does sound crazy. I can’t help it. I start to giggle.
Soon we’re both giggling.
Grace takes a breath and says, “I tried last night. To remember. I tried really hard. But I don’t remember. It’s so weird.”
“Really, really weird,” I agree.
“You wrote me all those letters,” Grace says.
“Yeah,” I say.
We’re silent for a moment.
“David came over last night,” Grace says. “He wanted to know what happened to his raft. When I told him I almost drowned, he was very nice about it. He says he forgives us.”
“That’s good,” I say. I don’t want Grace to get into any more trouble.<
br />
“So I told him I forgive him for all the mean things he’s said to me. And he invited you and me to a picnic that his family’s putting on for his birthday. It’s on Saturday and it’s going to be a corn roast at Green Point Park.”
I’ve just found out something else that’s different between Grace and me. She gets mad fast, but she also forgives fast. Not like me. Granny always said that I could stew over something forever, like a dog with a bone.
Then I realize that Grace said that David invited both of us.
“I won’t be here,” I say. “We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
“Maybe,” Grace says. “And maybe not.”
She sounds all mysterious. “What do you mean?” I say.
Grace’s blue eyes sparkle. “Aunty Eve says that if it’s okay with your mom, you can stay with us for awhile. If it works out, even ’til the end of summer. That’s three more whole weeks. That is, if you want to.”
“If I want to?” I screech. “Are you kidding? Of course I want to!”
Grace jumps up. “Let’s go ask your mom.”
On the way to the Top Notch, Grace says, “There’s just one thing. I’m not sure if I can call your mother Mom. I mean, I had another mother and she still feels like my real mom. And I can’t call your mother Mrs. King.” For the first time, Grace sounds a little unsure.
“Call her Flora,” I say promptly.
I spot Mom through the cafe window. She’s laughing at something Daphne said. I wave, and she waves back.
“Flora.” Grace tries it out. “Do you think she’ll mind?”
“Not one bit,” I say.
Dear Grace,
I can’t believe summer is over. Back to school! Boo hoo! I had the BEST BEST BEST time ever at your place. These are the things I will never forget:
Going to the Aga and seeing My Friend Flicka. I still say you cried more than me.
Hanging out with Louise and Janey, who were so nice to me.
The corn roast at Green Point (I’ll be forever grateful that David let me borrow so many of his books).