“No.” She stared out at the ocean and held her breath. Maybe he would be out there today. He hadn’t turned himself in yet.
“I have to get to the office,” her father sighed, looking at his watch. “Try to eat something before your walk, alright? Don’t head out too far.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry you made me breakfast. I’m sorry I’m not very happy right now.”
“It’s alright.” He removed his apron and stepped around the counter to give her a kiss on the cheek. “No matter what choices you make, Naomi, your mom and I are here for you. We love you.”
“I know.”
THE SKY was intensely clear and blue. Closing the dining room doors behind her, she headed down the grass-lined paths, camera around her neck. She had to find some tide pools, something to get her mind off things. Her steps grew quick and determined.
There weren’t any tide pools near the house. They were clustered miles up the beach where craggy rocks jutted into the water. A faint voice called out from behind.
“Naomi!”
Spinning around, she saw her mother jogging from the house, dressed in capris and a loose, white shirt. Her hair, once pulled into a slack bun, was falling around her face.
“Naomi, wait!”
She looked frantic, red-faced and breathing heavily as she finally reached Naomi, who stood watching her with raised eyebrows. Stopping, she swept back the hair from her face and let out a heavy sigh. “Thanks for waiting. You were walking so fast, I didn’t think you’d hear me.” She relaxed her face and straightened her shoulders. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”
Lowering her eyebrows, Naomi glanced at an orange in her mother’s hand. She shook her head. “I was just going to take some pictures. Are you sure?”
“I’d love to see what you do.”
With a shrug, she turned around. “Alright.”
They headed up the beach, silent until Karen cleared her throat. “I saw your letter on the counter.”
“Oh.”
“Are you still accepted?”
The air felt cold. “Um, yeah.” She stopped walking. “What should I do, Mom?”
“Whatever you want.”
Naomi studied her face. She was beautiful beneath the blue sky. Her hair shimmered and her eyes sparkled. Naomi had never seen them so bright before. There was trust between them now, but it was still fragile.
“Don’t you want me to go?”
Brushing back more hair from her forehead, Karen smiled. “I think it’s a great opportunity. Not everybody gets accepted to a school like that.”
She stared down at the sand and ran her fingers over the body of her camera. Her choice. Her life. It sounded so simple, but there were so many ifs. What if she hated the school? What if she was too scared to live on her own? What if ....
“I came out to tell you I saw something on the news this morning.”
Her heart nearly stopped. “You did?”
“Jesse turned himself in.”
“I-I—”
Karen’s eyes widened. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“I saw him on Saturday.”
A few stutters, then Karen seemed to comprehend something. “So you talked him into it?”
“No! He’d already made up his mind. I told you before—he’s a good man.”
“Relatively speaking.”
“No, Mom. He is.”
Silence. They both stared down at the orange in Karen’s hands and then turned to start up the beach again, walking quietly for several minutes until Naomi took a deep breath, her heart beating in time with their footsteps.
“Mom, I love him.”
More silence, until her mother stopped once again. She looked into Naomi’s eyes and took a confident breath. “I know you do, sweetheart. It’s okay.” She held out the orange. “I don’t know why I brought this out here. You’ve probably already eaten one today.”
“No, Dad didn’t peel me one this morning.” She held her breath. “I’ll do it.”
She took it into her own hands, and they continued on. Her feet were weightless all of a sudden. Looking ahead, she saw the spot where she and Jesse had talked five days ago. She would see him again, that much was certain. For now, she looked up and focused on the clear sky ahead.
MICHELLE LIVES and writes in Utah, surrounded by the Rocky Mountains. She loves the seasons, but late summer and early fall are her favorites. She adores chocolate, sushi, and lots of ethnic food, and loves to read and write books in whatever time she can grab between her sword-wielding husband and energetic daughter. She believes a simple life is the best life.
Find Michelle Davidson Argyle on her author site www.michelledavidsonargyle.com and her blog theinnocentflower.blogspot.com.
Table of Contents
Cover
Reviews
Other works by Michelle Davidson Argyle
Half Title
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Title Page
Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
About the Author
The Breakaway Page 24