“Let’s see how you do,” Jean-Rose told Teddy. “Maybe we can make this a weekly thing. Would you mind dropping them home? I have a few things to pick up.”
Ash tossed a red plastic shovel at Heddy’s foot to get her attention. “We’ll throw the kids in the back of the truck with the surfboards.”
“Seriously, Ash.”
Did Jean-Rose just giggle?
Ash got up, pulling his board to its side. “I’m sure Heddy won’t mind if we all squeeze into the cab.”
“Not at all,” she said.
As Jean-Rose turned to go, Ash carried his surfboard to the foamy water. “Ready to get in the water, Ace? The waves are a ten.” The ocean was rough but calmer beyond the break. Heddy watched Teddy sit on the board, digging her hands in the sand alongside Anna, making drip castles. But the child liked knocking them down more than building them up. Since it was too rough for Teddy to stand on the board, Ash beached it. Instead, he instructed Teddy to keep his balance every time a wave broke. They held hands, and if the wave was looming, Ash would pick him up and help him jump it.
A football landed next to her, and she reached for it, throwing it back to the guy with the curls as he ran toward her. He thanked her, and she’d leaned back into her hands, smiling.
“Heddy.” Ash called from the water. “Come in with us.”
“In a minute,” she said. “I’m with Anna.”
Teddy came running out of the ocean sometime later. The water from his bathing trunks plopped cold drops on Heddy’s legs. “Did you see me? He’s going to take me out next time.” He hugged her thighs tight. It was the sweetest he’d ever been to her, and she patted his back, thinking maybe they were turning a corner.
Ash dragged the tip of his board up the sand to where Heddy and Anna were digging. “It’s a little too rough for a first lesson.” He wiped the water from his eyes, sand clumping to the undersides of his trunks.
“Have you been out yet?” Heddy asked.
“All morning. On a typical day here, you’re paddling around, waiting for a few good waves. Today, it’s like Christmas.”
“Lucky you.” She stretched her legs out, reclined in a pose. “I’d love to take a dip. Do you mind watching them for a second?” Heddy didn’t think Jean-Rose would mind. She’d be quick.
Heddy pushed off her straps, wiggling out of the yellow terry-cloth dress, and strolled toward the sea. She dove into the wave, feeling it rush over her, enjoying it wholly before emerging. At the children’s side again, she wrapped her towel around her, like she’d just gotten out of the bath.
“You didn’t give yourself barely a minute.” Ash held a tiny sand crab in his palm, the children begging to hold it. “We think you should try it.”
She squeezed the water out of her hair. “Try what?”
His voice took on the tone of a dare. “Wave riding.”
Heddy threw up her arms, shaking her head with laughter. “Told you, city girl.”
“That’s not a reason, Miss Heddy. It’s an excuse. You may never get another chance to try,” Ash said.
“Now why would I want to?” She met his eyes with a charge.
“Someone forced me out on a board once. You’ll never see the ocean the same way.”
“I couldn’t possibly leave the children—”
“I’m telling you, the waves are plentiful. We’ll be back in minutes,” he said. “Besides, Susanne’s nanny, Rhoda, is right here.” Ash called her over. “Rhoda, will you keep an eye on Jean-Rose’s kids while Heddy goes for a swim?” Heddy knew Rhoda from a playdate. She was on break from the University of Massachusetts, and she and Heddy had laughed when the kids put on a play about their parents, mimicking them sipping cocktails and smoking cigarettes.
“Do it. Do it,” Anna chanted.
“When opportunities come your way, you’ve got to jump on them. The simplest rule of business.” Ash stood, retying the roped belt of his red board shorts.
“Lucky I’m not in business school. I’ve had enough firsts for one summer already.”
Ash raised his eyebrows, causing Heddy to explain. “Jean-Rose taught me how to drive a car last week.” Heddy realized then that she’d wanted to tell him, and it had come out in a burst.
He shook his head, a smart grin on his face. “That woman can get anyone to do anything. How am I losing to her right now?”
Heddy had to laugh. He touched her arm right above her elbow, just for a moment, and nothing about it felt inappropriate, just tender. “Promise me you won’t leave this summer without trying it.”
Something about his backing off, giving her the choice, made her want to say yes.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Teddy wrinkled his nose. “You’ll never stand up.”
Ash snapped his fingers. “Yes! Now, don’t worry, you’ll see the kids the entire time.”
He carried the long board out to the sea. She dove in after him and swam beyond the break, turning around when the water was chest-deep to check on the children. Teddy was staring, willing her to fail; Anna was digging.
Ash paddled the board to her. “Get on. Let’s line up.” Heddy pushed herself onto the board, water pouring off her sides. She scooted her bottom back, straddling it. “Lay down on your stomach,” Ash instructed.
Heddy eased herself down on her elbows, pushing back her legs into an A to help balance the surfboard, pressing her belly against the smooth planed surface. Ash propped himself up in between her calves, pulling his body forward, inching closer to her while dangling his legs in the water. She could feel his breath on the backs of her knees and she needed to say something, anything to break the tension balling up inside her.
“You really think we can ride a wave like this?”
“Of course we can,” he said. They rocked in the water, waiting, and Heddy saw the kids pointing at something in the hole they were digging. Teddy picked it up and Anna tried to grab it. Then she’d sunk down in tears. Rhoda consoled Anna, pointing at the water where she and Ash were.
“My time is running out.” The water splashed up on the board, sending a burst of the sea onto Heddy’s back.
“Don’t move an inch,” he told her. She’d pointed her toes then, and they’d momentarily grazed the side of his body. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice felt close, enveloping her like a warm blanket. “On the count of three, pull your legs in, and I’ll jump up. One, two, three.”
She squeezed her legs shut, and all at once, Heddy felt the push of the water against the board. It was a force so strong, it pushed them downhill, and for a moment, it felt like they’d be crushed by the roar of the wave. They shot out just under the crest, and she felt the board propelling them forward like a jet plane. They were racing the water itself. She was still laying down, while Ash had popped up to stand, his feet planted on either side of her hips, and he steadied the board as the white water chased them. Heddy pressed up so she could see, then squeezed her eyes shut to protect them from the spray. The rush of the water made her scream out with glee, and Ash hollered back at her. “We did it, kitty kit,” which made her belly laugh.
They sped toward shore, but Ash turned the board sideways to slow it down. In seconds, they were floating in the foam. Ash hopped off the board, the thunder of an impending wave rolling just beyond the break. “You better get off or you’re toast.”
Her body pumping with adrenaline, Heddy slid into the ocean, sprinting to the shoreline and picking up Anna, spinning her in circles. She grabbed for Teddy, spinning some more, until she was dizzy, collapsing on the sand with laughter.
Ash sat next to her and guffawed. “Bet you’ve never felt anything like it.”
Heddy tried to catch her breath. “No one could tell you what that feels like—you wouldn’t believe it.” Their shoulders kissed for a moment, and they both readjusted their position, scooting farther apart.
“Will you describe it? I want to see it through your eyes,” he said.
“Why?” She brushed at the
sand on her legs, rubbing it away with her fingers.
“Because you can’t stop the waves, so everyone reacts a little differently to surfing. Some people are threatened; others are inspired.” He looked like a little boy to her then, curious about the world in a way she didn’t know grown men could be.
Heddy shielded her eyes from the sun, feeling him next to her. “How would I describe it? I suppose it’s like staring down the ocean, ready to take a punch, but then you figure out how to escape, and you outrun it. Faster than you’ve ever outrun anything in your life.” When she’d been on the surfboard, she’d wanted to show the ocean she was mightier, that she could overpower it.
Ash punched her lightly in the arm, like she was his buddy. “So for you, it’s all about the escape. I could see that.”
Perhaps, she thought. Her lips turned up in a half smile. Or maybe there wasn’t a deeper explanation. Maybe she just liked the rush of the water.
“I didn’t think you could do it.” Teddy smirked. He ran off to join Anna, crushing a sand castle with her foot.
Back at the beach blanket, Ash pulled a cold Narragansett from his cooler, reaching for something else. “I have one more ginger ale.” He cupped it in his hand like a baseball, ready to toss it to Heddy, propped on her elbows.
“Sure.” Heddy failed to catch it, and when she picked it up, it was coated in sand.
“You’re such a girl.” Ash said, resting his head on the back of his chair.
“Guilty,” she said, brushing the sand off the can.
He gazed out at the ocean, so she did, too, her mind wandering to her mother, what she was doing right now. What she’d think of what Heddy was doing.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.
Heddy smiled shyly, crossing her feet at the ankles and uncrossing them. It was too early to share anything about her mother.
“Walk with me.” He reached for her hand, but once she was next to him, he tapped Anna and Teddy on the back. “Let’s race. Whoever makes it to Dead Man’s Rock wins.”
And he was off. Ash, his back smooth, running in his red bathing trunks, the children chasing him, Teddy putting power into his little legs to stay ahead of Anna. She assumed Dead Man’s Rock was the boulder ahead, and Heddy sprinted down the beach after him. She laughed, tripping on a thick nest of seaweed, then regained her balance and held her hand in front of her mouth. The salt air pumped hard in her chest, and she felt alive. Fully alive.
“Gotcha.” Heddy tackled Teddy and Anna. “You’re mine now.”
Ash was already at the rock, leaning his hand along the tallest edge. “C’mon, kitty kit. I know you’re faster than that.”
Heddy folded her arms “You got a head start.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t fair,” said Anna.
“Well, Anna Banana, that is true. You and Teddy can get a running start on the way back.”
“What is it with you and nicknames anyway?” Running had left Heddy’s hair disheveled, and she was pulling it into a tight, high ponytail. “I’ve only had one nickname in my whole life: my grandmother called me little owl.”
“Of course she did—you’ve got those great big, round eyes.”
Heddy scrunched up her nose. “I hated it. You can just call me Heddy, none of this ‘kitty kit’ stuff.”
“You won’t get off that easy with me. If we’re going to be friends, you’ve got to have a nickname.”
Friends. The children had taken off down the beach, determined to win the race. Heddy started to run, too.
“Well, then what do we call you?” she yelled back. Ash was running again, and he zipped right past her.
“Just call me handsome.”
She shaded her eyes, taking him in as he ran. She heard her mother, the day she left for Wellesley: Some people play the slots. Others put their money into a house. Well, I don’t have any money at all, so I’m investing in you.
It was improbable, of course, but perhaps, just maybe, Ash was the return on her mother’s investment.
NINE
Ted tapped at the steering wheel, the car idling in the driveway, as Heddy arranged the last of the beach bags into the trunk. He turned around to see what was taking Jean-Rose so long, the kids playing tag in the grass. “Could we get there sometime this century?”
It was Heddy’s day off, tonight was her date with the waiter, and she wanted—no, needed—to talk to Ted. She’d rehearsed her speech while lying next to Anna as the sun rose. The child had woken her early after having a bad dream and fallen asleep beside her, and as she watched Anna’s little back rising and falling, the hot tangle of hair stuck to the nape of her neck, she decided today was the day to ask Ted for a loan. If she didn’t return to school and earn her degree, she wouldn’t just disappoint herself, she’d crush her mother. Plus, there were so many things she still wanted to do on campus, and leaving early meant missing out on opportunities, like writing for the Wellesley News. She couldn’t stomach it.
Unfortunately, now that he was before her, mussing up his hair and adjusting his aviator glasses, she stared at the orange stripes of his golf shirt, her mind coming up blank.
“This probably isn’t the best time, but…” She paused.
Ted leaned out the window. “Yes, Heddy.” He tapped the slit where the window rolled down, waiting for her to say something, and still she couldn’t make the words come out. Can I have a loan? I’ll pay you back, with interest, of course.
“I was wondering if— Well, if you might give me a… um, well it’s complicated…” She paused, sucked in her breath. “It’s Teddy. Can you get him his own fishing pole?”
He motioned to the garage. “You can use one in there.”
“No, a child’s pole.”
“I’ll check the hardware store.” The children climbed into the car, Jean-Rose slammed her door shut, and Ted backed the Bonneville out of the driveway. Heddy closed her eyes, even as the children waved goodbye. Asking him for money had felt wrong, like a breach of contract. She didn’t want to ask anybody for anything.
With the family gone, she stepped into the kitchen. Ruth padded around upstairs, Heddy leaned against the sink and sipped from the triangular opening of a large can of pineapple juice. It felt good to be alone, even if the house sagged without the children’s voices echoing through the well-decorated rooms. In the silent living room, she noticed small cracks in the plaster shooting off like veins from the ceiling medallion. The tapestry ottoman’s leg had a spot where the mahogany finish had rubbed off. Heddy let her eyes follow the crown molding, the bookshelves that flanked the fireplace. There were model ships of all sizes, some tucked into clear glass bottles with necks so narrow Heddy wondered how they got inside. On another shelf was a thick stack of records. Music. That would quell the loneliness gathering like Ted’s cigar smoke.
Heddy sat with her legs crossed on the plush oriental carpet and flipped through the album covers. Ella Fitzgerald, Fabian, Elvis Presley. She slid Little Eva’s “The Loco-Motion” out of the cover, balancing the smooth edges of the vinyl in her fingertips, and placed it on the turntable. She lowered the needle down with a steady hand, careful not to make any scratches. The singer’s perky voice sounded out, and Heddy turned up the dial on the record player so it filled the vacant rooms.
Ruth bounded down the stairs. “I love this song.”
“There you are! It’s creepy in here when it’s quiet.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Making my way through the bedrooms.”
“You want help?”
“Really? Would you make the bed in the master?” Ruth grabbed a cleaning spray from the kitchen.
Heddy had never been in Jean-Rose’s bedroom. The room smelled stale, a musky mix of Chanel Nº5, Old Spice, and a night of sleep. She set her sights on the mahogany four-poster bed. Pulling taut the white cotton sheets, Heddy noticed the sheet was kicked down on one side and only one pillow indented, like a thumbprint cookie. The trash can overflowed with crumpled tissues.
In the a
djoining sunroom, several pieces of stained glass hung in a bay window. She’d seen the room from the back lawn—it jutted out from the rest of the house like a jewel, ornate spindles carved into the outside trim—and inside, a plush chaise was positioned in front of the windows, offering a glimpse of the sea. Someone had crudely folded a set of sheets, tossed two pillows on the chaise. “What should I do with the stuff on the settee?”
Ruth yelled from the hall. “Stack it in Ted’s closet.”
On her way to the closet, a sharp pain seared through Heddy’s toe. “Shit, shit, shit,” she yelled. She grabbed at her big toe, a puncture where an earring had stabbed her. In the bathroom, she dabbed her cut with toilet paper, sitting down at Jean-Rose’s ornate wooden vanity, an oversize mirror carved with a decorative fleur-de-lis. A large jewelry box sat on the vanity, a pale blue rectangle with three drawers and painted snowflakes on the lid. Spindly letters, written in the hand of a child, spelled out: “Jeannie.” Heddy unlatched the clasp. The top sprung open, the notes of “Someday My Prince Will Come” chiming, and a tiny figurine, an ice skater, began to spin on a single blade, her movement reflected in a tiny oval mirror.
Tiny interior compartments lined in pale blue satin each held a pair of sparkly earrings. She’d seen jewelry like this behind glass when visiting her mother at Tiffany’s, but she’d never tried any on. She picked up a large emerald earring shaped like a rounded square, a frame of tiny diamonds around it. A clip-on, it pinched Heddy’s earlobe when she closed the back. Heddy dug her finger under the feathery-light chain of a diamond pendant, fastening it around her neck. She slid a diamond eternity bracelet around her wrist, admiring the delicate circle of linked jewels.
“You little fox.” Ruth stood behind her in the bathroom, pressing a broom to her chest. “You have to see her drawer of hair accessories.”
Heddy pulled one of the tiny glass knobs, revealing a row of jeweled hair combs, and Ruth opened the next to show rows of glittering rings tucked into fabric slits. She looked at her reflection and thought how plain her headbands and ponytails seemed, how unremarkable her features. The upside was her Kelly-green tank top and short-sleeve knit matching cardigan. She’d paid less than ten cents for both pieces at the Salvation Army, but she knew they could pass muster with the girls accustomed to buying short sets at Bloomingdale’s on Fifty-Ninth Street.
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