by Jamie Canosa
We floated there, chest-to-chest, barely breathing, until I felt my heart rate start to come back under control. This wasn’t so scary. Not with Caulder right beside me. It was actually . . . kind of nice. The water lapped at my shoulders and chest. My feet paddled through open space. It almost felt like flying.
When I smiled up at Caulder, he eased his grasp, slightly, and I instinctively reached for his shoulders.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry. You’re doing great.” He let go of his hold on the wall, kicking hard to keep us both afloat as he peeled a strand of damp hair away from my face. “You want to try swimming?”
“Uh . . .” So not. “I’m in the pool. Maybe we could save the swimming lesson for another day?”
“You got it. Here, take my hand. I’ll give you a ride.”
I did as he said and tried not to stroke-out when he released me, letting me float beside him, held up solely by the strength of his arm. He waited patiently while I grew comfortable with that before pushing off the wall and dragging me along behind him across the pool, one powerful arm cutting deep strokes through the water.
Part of me felt foolish. This was something you did with a small child. But another part was so exhilarated by everything that was happening that I couldn’t bring myself to really care. By the time we reached the far side, my laughter was echoing off of the cement walls.
Caulder turned at the far end, pulling me back into his arms and smiled at me with the biggest grin I’d ever seen from him. “You liked that?”
Was that even a question? “I loved it!”
He threw his head back and laughed at my exuberance. I felt . . . alive. A feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.
After a moment, his eyes settled back on my face with something more serious in them. “You shared something special with me up in that clearing. If you’ll let me, I’d like to share something special with you, too.”
I think my heart stopped. I know my breathing did. “What is it?”
“There’s a reason I swim as much as I do. The water can be fun, but it can be peaceful, too. Underwater, everything else just fades away. There’s no noise, no thoughts, no . . . feelings. There’s just you. And silence. It’s . . . indescribable. Something you have to experience for yourself.”
“Underwater?” Wasn’t that exactly the thing I was trying to avoid, clinging to him like a howler monkey?
“You’d have to trust me.”
I did trust him. I knew in my heart that he would never let anything happen to me. But my head kept screaming reminders that underwater there was no oxygen. An essential part of staying alive.
I went with my heart. “Alright.”
Caulder smiled gently at me and took my hand again. “Pinch your nose and take a deep breath. I’ll hold your hand while you’re under. When you’re ready to come back up just squeeze my hand and I’ll pull you right out. Okay?”
I nodded and did as he said, taking a few deep breaths before holding one. With one last glimpse of his face, I shut my eyes and allowed myself to sink beneath the surface. My initial reaction was immediate panic, but I pushed that aside, feeling Caulder’s hand in mine and trusting in that.
I was floating. Really floating. My arms, my legs, my hair—all of it weightless. And he was right, it was quiet. Not just quiet. It was silent. No noise. No commotion. But more than that, there were no loud thoughts. I was quiet. My brain had shut up for the first time ever. I wasn’t worrying about work, or money, or bills, or rent, or food, or Mom, or Michael. My only concern, drawing my next breath. But putting that in Caulder’s hands—literally—there was nothing left to think about. I was free. So this was what peace felt like.
Before I knew it, I felt a tug on my hand and I was being lifted from my sanctuary. Breaking the surface, I sucked in lungfuls of oxygen, replenishing a long overdue supply.
“You okay?” I couldn’t understand the concern creasing Caulder’s brow. “You were under there a long time.”
“I was?” It hadn’t felt nearly long enough.
“Kinda. Yeah.” A crooked smile tipped one corner of his lips and I knew he understood. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
I felt a full-blown smile stretching my lips. “Kinda. Yeah.”
I went under a few more times, Caulder allowing me to stay below longer each time until I finally had to squeeze his hands when my lungs felt like they were going to burst. He gave me another ride across the pool, and I even dared to let go and float for a few seconds on my own, Caulder not far away. It was hands-down one of the best days I’d ever experienced. I never wanted it to end. But like all good things, it couldn’t last forever.
A couple hours later, others began to arrive. Rowdy college guys, diving and splashing and making me uncomfortable in my bathing suit. Cal didn’t need to be told. He simply lifted me out of the water and set me on the edge of the pool, heaving himself out beside me. Before I could stand, he opened an enormous towel from the bag and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“Why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll meet you back out here?”
Sounded like a plan to me. “Sure.”
I dressed in record speed, anxious to have actual clothing covering my body again, and wrapped the wet suit in the oversized towel. Caulder wasn’t quite as punctual. Apparently, looking that gorgeous required time and effort. Who knew?
The smell of chlorine was starting to make me lightheaded, so I decided to wait outside. There was a bench positioned along the pathway not far from the entrance to the building. It wouldn’t take a P.I. to find me.
The sun-warmed metal felt good against my chilled back. Ahead of me, a man in slacks and dress shoes chased a blonde haired boy—maybe five-years-old—running and laughing across the open lawn. He could have easily caught him, but measured his steps to allow the boy to stay just out of his reach. Such a small thing to bring his child so much joy.
I wondered if my mother had ever loved me that much, if there had ever been a time when she’d made even the slightest effort. I searched my memories, sorting through the piles of crap, but I couldn’t recall a single instance where I felt that kind of simple happiness.
My life looked a little different when I’d been that age. The memories were foggy, maybe because I chose not to think about them, but they were there. Raiding the fridge for cold hotdogs and slimy sandwich meat, while Mom snored on the couch. The constant headaches and dizziness. My fingers drifted subconsciously to the barely noticeable burn mark on my forearm from the time I tried to teach myself how to make mac-and-cheese on the stove.
Sweltering summer nights inside those suffocating metal collection bins with plastic bags sticking to my legs. Mom would hoist me inside with nothing more than a flashlight as soon as I was old enough to recognize numbers and I’d search through donation bags until I found one or two in my size to toss back out. At the time, it had felt like Christmas. Looking back it just felt . . . wrong.
The stench of alcohol permeated all of my memories. Like playing quietly, out of the way, in my room with the Barbie with the missing leg that one of the girls at school had thrown away.
Dumpster diving for toys and clothes. How pathetic was that?
My whole life was pathetic. And now? I’d actually let myself believe that things could change. That she could change. I was still pathetic.
“Hey. You alright?”Caulder slid onto the bench, startling me. I hadn’t even seen him coming. “You look upset.” Tipping his head, he studied me through narrowed eyes. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Angel . . . you’re welcome to tell me to mind my own business. Probably won’t do you much good . . .” He reached out and gently pried open the fingers I hadn’t even realized I’d fisted in my shirt directly above my heart. “But, please, don’t lie to me.”
I let my hand fall away and dropped my gaze along with it. I was lying to him. Hiding. Pretending. It had become so second nature that I didn’t even know when to tur
n it off, anymore. My problems were mine. I wasn’t going to allow them to become yet another burden for him to bear. But that didn’t mean I had to lie about everything. He was still my friend. Someone I could confide in. Someone I could trust.
“It’s my mom . . . and Michael. They’ve been . . . fighting.”
Caulder’s face went deathly serious. “Did he hurt her?”
“No! No, no. Not that kind of fighting. Just . . . yelling and screaming and stuff. The things they say . . .”
Caulder waited patiently, his gaze never wavering from my face. “Jade?”
“I tried to intervene once.” I swallowed hard remembering the look of pure outrage on my mother’s face. “I was only trying to help . . . They didn’t want me. They don’t want me. They never have.”
My arms slipped subconsciously around my waist, until Caulder brought them up short with a firm grip on each wrist. Slowly, he peeled them away from my body and pulled them around him instead. When his came around me, I stiffened for a moment. But he felt so warm, so comforting. So safe. I relaxed into him as his hand ran soothingly up and down my back.
“I’ve got you.” The feel of his words breathed into my hair eased the tension keeping me in knots and I inhaled his scent. Soap, fresh laundry detergent, and something uniquely Caulder. Something strong and powerful, like the scent of ice, if ice had a scent.
“Are you alright, Angel?” He leaned back only far enough to see my face. Whatever he saw there made him shake his head. “Dumb question.”
He tucked me close again and resumed his idle strokes along my spine.
“I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but . . .” Caulder’s jaw worked against my scalp. “Is it possible the fighting’s a good thing? I mean, maybe she’ll kick him out and you can both be done with him.”
I sighed and buried my face deeper in his shoulder. I’d had the same hope at first, until the screaming matches ended with them falling into bed together. “I doubt it. They seem to like to fight.”
Caulder’s arms snaked tighter around me like a python set on crushing its prey and plastered me to his front, removing every last bit of space between us. “Then stay.”
“What?” I tried to pull back for a better look at him, but he didn’t give me an inch.
“Stay with me. Don’t go back there. You’re eighteen, there’s no reason for you to have to—”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No. Cal . . . I can’t.” It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed my mind a time or two . . . or twenty. I just couldn’t bring myself to go through with it. She may have been cruel, and unkind, but she was my mother. She needed me—even if she’d never admit it. “I can’t abandon her.”
Caulder finally pulled back, allowing enough space between us that I could accurately read the incredulity on his face. “The world does not revolve around that woman, Jade. Yours doesn’t have to, either.”
I shrugged and dropped my eyes to my lap. It didn’t make sense, why I chose to continue to put myself through this when I honestly didn’t have to. But I did, I did have to, and why wasn’t something I could really explain other than to say, “She’s my mom.”
Caulder’s sigh washed over me like a wave of irritated warmth. A calloused finger tucked under my chin and gently lifted until I was staring into the deepest blue eyes I’d ever seen. “I’m sorry. I get it. I do. I just can’t seem to stop worrying about you. Every time you leave me . . . Every time I watch you walk back into that place, knowing what’s waiting for you inside . . . It kills me, Angel. The thought of you hurting . . . It guts me.”
Tears welled, setting fire to the backs of my eyes, but I forced them away. He didn’t know the half of it. And that was exactly why he never could.
“You’re so damn strong, and I hate it.” Damp, dark hair flipped across his forehead with a sharp shake of his head. “I know that probably makes me some kind of macho pig, but I’d like nothing more than to go all Neanderthal and toss you over my shoulder and drag you away from there.”
It wasn’t hard to imagine him doing just that and the mental image brought a smile to my lips even as the tears made a valiant comeback. The corner of his mouth quirked up in response and he released my chin to run knuckles over my cheek, brushing away the few stray tears that had managed to escape. A look I couldn’t identify, much less understand, crossed his face and lingered until a deep breath washed it away and he dropped his hand to his side, shifting to put a little more space between us. I immediately missed his warmth and had to fight the urge to scoot closer to him again.
“You ready to go?” He itched at the skin on his neck as his gaze danced over to where the man had finally caught the boy and hefted him onto his shoulders “You don’t have to go home. We could—”
“I should, actually. Go home.” Though it was the last place I wanted to be, I was a good little puppy, crawling obediently back into her cage. “My mom might need—”
“No.”
Umm . . . “What?”
“Screw what your mom needs.” The brilliant smile lighting up his face soothed the harshness of his words. “Today’s about what you need. What we both need.”
“And what’s that?”
“An escape.”
Seven
“We’re . . . escaping?” The thought was terrifyingly tempting. “From what?”
“From reality. Now, give me your phone.”
“What?” I tightened my grip around the stone-aged piece of techno-crap. The thing was so outdated I was surprised I didn’t have to literally dial the numbers, rotary style. Still, I wasn’t giving it up without a fight. What if Mom needed to go somewhere and got in a wreck because she couldn’t reach me to drive her? What is she fell asleep with the stove on . . . again? What if a fight between her and Michael got out of hand and she needed my help? “I can’t. What if there’s an emergency? What if my mom—?”
“She’s a grown woman¸ Jade. She can take care of herself for a few hours.”
She doesn’t need you.
Or maybe . . . I didn’t need to worry about her all the time?
“Hand it over, Angel. We’re taking a mental health day.” The only way Caulder was getting that phone was if he pried it from my fingers. Something he did with disgusting ease. “Shut it off.”
“What?”
“That brain of yours. I see that worry line on your forehead. Put it away. Both of our phones are going in the trunk and neither of us is going to see them again until sundown. No use worrying about it until then. Should some life-altering event occur in the next eight hours, we’ll deal with it tonight. Okay?”
Okay? I was pretty sure he’d just installed a pause button on my life. Or maybe it was more like a mute button. Either way, things suddenly seemed a whole lot quieter. Cal offered—no, demanded—that I stop worrying for an entire day. I wasn’t sure I was even capable of it. But I was willing to try.
“Okay.”
“Good.” He pointed me at the passenger door and then rounded the hood to his own. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” I sank into the soft seat not really caring what the answer was.
“Nowhere.” Cal grinned at me as the car roared to life. “Everywhere. Anywhere. The day is ours.”
So was the road, apparently. We drove for miles following one stretch of open road after the next. Moving from one town to another, farther and farther away from anything or anyone I recognized. Or anyone who recognized me. Out there, I wasn’t stuck with who I was. Out there I could be anyone I wanted to be.
A song came on that I recognized and I started humming along to the tune. To my surprise when the next verse started, Caulder belted out the lyrics at the top of his lungs. So maybe there was one thing on the planet that he didn’t excel at. I tried to stifle my laugh and failed, which only made him singer louder, rolling down the windows for all the world to hear.
“Sing with me, Angel!” He had to shout to be heard over the maxed
out volume of his stereo.
No way. I wasn’t nearly confident enough to do what he was doing. Other drivers were turning to look as they passed us. My face was starting to burn and I wasn’t even the one they were gawking at.
“One day, Jade. That’s all I’m asking for. Just one day where you stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and just do what makes you happy. One day of freedom. Can you give me that?”
Freedom. It sounded exactly like what I’d been craving. But was I brave enough to take it?
The chorus was coming. I knew the words. The tune. The notes. I’d sung before. In the shower. Quietly. To myself. I wasn’t terrible.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I opened my mouth and let it go. I let it all go. The fear, the embarrassment, the voices telling me I wasn’t good enough. I sang as loud as I could. And Caulder didn’t make me do it alone.
Sailing down the road, the wind in my hair, belting out the words to the newfound soundtrack to my freedom, I’d never felt so light. Like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I could suddenly fly. When Caulder broke into drums on the steering wheel, I joined him on air guitar and wondered where this new girl had come from.
We drove and sang and laughed for miles. With no particular destination in mind, it didn’t matter where we were. Questions of how far or how long didn’t exist. We were exactly where we were supposed to be.
Hours passed by more quickly than the miles we traveled, and before I knew it, Caulder was pulling off in a cloud of dust.
“Dinnertime.” Cal shut off the engine as I waited for the dust to clear to see where exactly it was he thought we were eating.
Ahead of us, the bright sun glinted off of a small metal trailer. A hand written sign on a white board by the side of the road read, ‘Janine’s Hotdogs and Ice Cream’.
“Why don’t you go grab us a table?”
It wasn’t exactly standing room only. The place was nearly deserted. Only a couple of men in orange vests, covered in a fine layer of dirt, sat near an old beat-up pickup. More than enough tables remained empty. It was Cal’s way of making sure I wasn’t going to try to pay for anything, which worked for me, seeing as I hadn’t brought any money with me. I’d been planning to go swimming, not run away from home.