Beach Glass (24 page)

I look at my hands, feeling defeated. The Divorce looms over us like a cloud. So according to my mother I can’t trust Carson’s impulsive ways, however sincere and romantic he might be, and my sister could road test life with Ray for eight years, but Daniel waiting for five years proves he’s unworthy. I close my eyes, not really knowing what else to do.

What comes to me is the feeling I had when I was surfing. I got on that board, damn it, even though I was afraid and I didn’t know what was going to happen. And even after I wiped out, which was really scary, I got back on that board and I tried again, and I was rewarded with a feeling I’d never had before. Me, at my best.

I look at my mother with long-awaited understanding. “Mom, you fell in love with Dad. You got to experience a feeling some people never get to have. And it didn’t work out, but you had two children. Both of whom love you very much.”

Mom takes our hands in hers. “You were the best parts of my life, and still are, along with my grandchild.”

“And you got hurt, but now it looks like you’re in love again,” I say. Mom nods. “And Bethy, you had to wait a while, but wasn’t it worth it?”

“Of course it was,” she says. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Okay then,” I say, nodding with satisfaction over a point I feel was well made.

But after a moment, Bethy frowns. “Okay then, what? Does that mean you’re accepting Daniel’s proposal? Or are you taking a chance with Carson?”

My mouth opens, and if I expect an answer to come out with certainty, I’m disappointed. “I think we should let Mom rest awhile.”

MOM DOESN’T argue with the suggestion of getting some rest. I think my romantic conundrum wore her out. My sister and I each give her a kiss on the forehead before going out to the living room.

Bethy lets her petite body fall onto one end of the couch while I go into the kitchen and make a PB and J. I hand half to my sister, as I did so many times when we were growing up in this same apartment, and sit cross-legged on the other end of couch. Then Bethy says, “While we’re eating like little kids, we should have a grownup talk.”

I stay silent, licking a drop of jam off my hand, dreading this conversation.

“Look, Katy, we need to talk about what we’re going to do if something else happens to Mom,” Bethy insists, with my mother’s lack of preamble.

I sigh, knowing she’s right. “Okay, what’s the plan? It looks like she’s going to move in with Vic, or he’s moving in here.”

“Right. But that may not work out, or something might happen to him first. Normally I’d say that because you live close by, you’d be the one to take her in.” Bethy trails off and looks away.

“But because I’m a single woman living in a studio apartment and I don’t have a steady job and can barely support myself, much less two people, that’s not the best option.” I look down with angry shame. “Or maybe you’re suggesting I become a true spinster and move in with Mom.”

“Katy,” Bethy sighs. “I’m suggesting that if Mom and Vic don’t happen, she come live with us. I’m a stay-at-home mom, we have extra space, Ray makes a decent living, and Celia would have her grandmother around.”

“No, you’re right,” I say. “After all, my life is ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Bethy scoffs. “Ridiculously good. You get to zoom off to Costa Rica on a day’s notice to take surfing lessons, and you meet a hot guy.” Bethy laughs. “While I was reading your emails about surfing and moonlit beaches, Celia was throwing spaghetti at me, and Ray was asking me to get him another beer because apparently he was trapped in the recliner.”

“Oh, you love it,” I say, leaning back and finishing the last bite of my sandwich.

Bethy smiles. “I do.” She nudges my knee with her foot. “Where does this Carson guy stand on having kids?”

I pretend to be engrossed in licking peanut butter off my fingers. Finally, I have to admit, “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about that yet.”

“That could be kind of a deciding factor,” Bethy says in an understated way, knowing how important this is to me. “I’m not saying that’s all you should consider. But he must be a good guy, if you were so ready to go live on a beach with him.” Bethy hesitates for a moment before saying, “You know us McNamara girls don’t have babies too easily. It took Mom and Dad a few years to get each of us. And I was ready to adopt when Celia finally showed up.”

My head falls back on the arm of the couch. “No pressure,” I say with exasperation.

“Sorry,” Bethy says, patting my leg. “I just know how much you want kids.”

“I want it all, Bethy. I want to be in love with the man who wants to be the father of my children. I want to know he’s in this for the long haul. I want to know I can count on him.” A heavy sigh escapes me. “Maybe I’m asking for too much.”

My sister sits up so she can look at me squarely in the eyes. “Never think that, Katy. All those things are what love is made of. Everybody gets scared about marriage and children. Ray freaked out about everything at first, but I knew he’d be an amazing dad, and he is. It’s not too much to ask someone to be brave and change a little, and they do it if they really love you.”

Change a little. For Daniel, marriage and children seems like a huge life change for him. Does he love me enough to do it? Or do I love him enough to see that he can’t? And would this be a big change for Carson, who lets the wind and the tides guide him?

And then there’s the question of my own feelings toward these men. I love Daniel. And yet, I also love Carson. I love them both, for vastly different reasons. Daniel for his sweetness, his stability; Carson, for being passionate and brave and for challenging me to be brave, too. If I had to make a choice, right now, which one could I say I wanted to spend the rest of my life with?

I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Vic comes back to my mother’s place with his suitcase. He, Bethy, and I have some tea while we talk about him staying to take care of Mom, and how long Bethy will be here. Since she came alone, leaving Ray and Celia behind, she’s figuring just a few more days to make sure Mom’s stable, and then she’ll head back to California. I want to stay and be with my family, but that’s a lot of people in a small apartment on Mom’s first day back from the hospital. So I kiss Bethy, Vic, and Mom goodbye and promise I’ll return tomorrow.

Maybe it’s good that I’m heading home for the night. There’s so much swimming around in my head, and my thoughts all blend together and go strangely quiet. I close my eyes, thinking that the roar of the train speeding home reminds me of what it sounds like deep under water.

As soon as I climb out of the train station at my stop in Jersey City, my phone trills a signal that I have a text. It’s from Carson:
How’s Mom doing?

Just the sight of his name sends what feels like a flock of birds up my chest. I quickly type back
She’s fine.
I’d been planning on the way home to relax and get some rest, but the thought of Carson triggers a need in me.
Where are you?

Instead of the text alert, my phone shouts a monkey howl.
I really need to change that
, I think as a woman standing near me jumps in surprise, but it makes me laugh. And then I smile as Carson says, “The hell with texts. I need to hear your voice.”

“And I need to hear yours,” I sigh, wandering dreamily down the block toward my apartment.

“When can I see you?” he asks.

“As soon as you can get here.”

His laugh is low and mischievous. “Be careful what you wish for.”

I should have known
, I think as I turn the corner. There, down my humble street of family-sized SUVs with supermarket dings in the fenders, is the silver Porsche. I hang up my phone as I watch Carson climb out. And then I run to him.

He catches me in his arms and lifts me up in a tight hug, as though we’ve been apart not for hours, but for years. My arms wrap around his broad back, and I rest my head against his shoulder, which feels so solid. He feels strong, strong enough to bear the burdens of what he’s been through with his family. Carson taught me how to be brave; maybe he can teach me how to be strong, too. As he holds me, my feet dangle trustingly off the ground. In the curve of my neck, I feel him take in a deep breath or sigh. I don’t know which, but it feels like I’ve just given him something he needed, too.

After a moment, he puts me down, still holding me but at arm’s length. “I know you’re going through a lot with your mom,” Carson says, “and if this isn’t the right time, say the word. But Kate, I need to know where I stand with you.”

AS I UNLOCK my door, Carson leans against the wall instead of snuggling up behind me the way he usually does. But he’s here, and he’s still close by, his green eyes unreadable but on me. When we go inside, I don’t know whether I forgot that Daniel’s engagement ring was still out on my desk or that I don’t want to hide anything anymore. It’s cards on the table time.

Just because I’m ready to be honest, though, doesn’t mean I’m not nervous about it. “Something to drink? Maybe some wine?” I offer Carson, already getting out the bottle for myself. He gives me a half smile and nods. I reach up for the wine glasses in the cupboard. “So, what was it like to see Anthea Stanhope again?”

“It was great,” he says, still meandering slowly around my apartment, as though looking for his place there. “She’s a good friend, and her husband Winthrop was one of my fraternity brothers. They have a really nice house, not huge, but good for a family their size. They have four kids already,” he says, chuckling. “Can you believe that?”

The neck of the wine bottle vibrates slightly with the tremble of my hand. “Do you think that’s too many?”

When Carson doesn’t answer, I look out toward the living room and see him thinking and smiling. “It was fun,” he says. “Like a little tribe.” The smile remains as he looks at me. “It was good, Kate. Anthy and Win had each other, and they made this home, and they had all these little kids running around, playing fort, jumping in the leaf pile. None of that is remarkable, but it seemed amazing. I don’t know,” he muses, “it just looked really good to me.”

My heart starts beating wildly, as though I’m traveling much farther than the space between my kitchen and where Carson is now standing by my desk. He’s looking down at something, and when I realize what it is, I stop where I am. He turns around, holding the box with the engagement ring.

“This seems serious,” he says. He looks at the ring for a few agonizing seconds longer before he puts it down and takes one of the wine glasses from my hand. “What does it mean that it’s still in the box and not on your finger?”

I drink my entire half-glass of wine in one go. All I need is some chocolate to recreate that sweet, unique sensation I experienced with Carson in Costa Rica that night on the beach after he pulled me from the rogue wave. In that moment, I felt so alive. I’d been tossed around by the force of the water and shown my life. It looked like a mosaic made up of all the decisions I’d made with blank spaces for the things I let slip away.

“That ring is not on my finger,” I tell Carson, my voice husky from the wine, “because I’m in love with you.”

Carson never takes his eyes off mine as he puts his glass down and comes to me, framing my face with his hands and pressing his mouth on mine in one movement. We breathe each other. We hold each other so close we’re one. Our hearts pound together. I want this.
Us.
I don’t know how or even if it will work. I only know I want him. Not for now. Forever.

WE LIE IN MY SMALL bed together, warmed by each other’s skin, sated and giving each other small, soft kisses. My fingers trace patterns on Carson’s smooth chest, following the slopes and inclines of his muscles, before he takes my hand and places it against his heart. He doesn’t have to say a thing.

Slowly, I sit up, pulling the sheet over my naked body so there’s no distraction, and I look at Carson. “You said you needed to know where you stand with me.”

He sits up, too, his eyes meeting mine. “I do.”

“There’s no one else,” I tell him. “Not anymore. What I had with Daniel was beautiful. I learned about love with him. But it’s over. I want to get married, and I want to have children. Make a family and a home, like what you were describing before. What I want most of all is someone I’m in love with, who loves me, and who wants that with me. And if you think that’s asking too much,” I say, steeling myself, “then you know where you stand with me.”

Carson sighs, and his expression falls serious. “Kate, I came from a world of all-consuming jobs that left no time for family, and when my family was together, we were either fighting or not speaking to each other. I swore that would never be my life, so I ran away from it all. I went wherever I wanted, woke up with the sun, and surfed all day. It’s amazing.”

Then he gets this look I’ve seen before. His eyes take on a sparkle, as though we’re talking about a grand adventure. “I want something solid, Kate. I want to feel like I have a home base, something stable that I can count on. I bet I can do family better than my own did. I never thought I wanted that before,” Carson tells me, his smile breathtaking. “But I do. And I want that with you.”