Life's a Beach (27 page)

29

“HOW LONG HAS THAT BEEN GOING ON?” NOAH ASKED.
“God, I’m such an idiot.”

I’d followed Noah to the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the doorman open the door. The gaffer came out, pushing the helium tank for Allison Flagg, who was laughing and flipping her hair around. Riley and the Macks were right behind them. “Hey, Noah,” Riley yelled as he ran past us.

“Hey, Riley,” Noah said. His eyes never left mine.

“It’s nothing,” I said, though I wasn’t completely sure it was true.

“I thought you were going to call me,” Noah said.

“I was,” I said. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“I can see that,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets. “That monk thing that guy said? You shouldn’t have repeated that to him. That was private.”

“I didn’t say you were a monk. I said I was a monk. I wasn’t betraying you. I was copying you. There’s a huge difference.”

We looked at each other. “Your parents invited me,” Noah said. “I thought it would be all right.”

“Of course it’s all right,” I said.

Noah shrugged. “I drove down here to tell you I love you, you know. How’s that for lousy timing?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what to say. Or even what to feel. Maybe I did love Noah, but hadn’t I also been ready to kiss the gaffer about three minutes ago?

Noah shook his head. “Listen, I don’t think coming here was such a hot idea. I’ll see you, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered as he walked away.

I PUSHED THE BUTTON
for the elevator. The back door to the Fisherman’s Lodge opened, and my father wheeled his suitcase inside.

“Aloha, Toots,” he said.

“Hi, Dad,” I said.

He stopped and opened his wallet and put the key card back inside, then tucked his wallet into his shorts pocket. He reached down to pull up his matching maroon socks. “I’m just bringing up the suitcase,” he said. “The old broad’s already up there, fluffing the pillows.” He winked. “We just wanted to get the room set up, then we’re heading back down again for some more dancing. The night’s still young.”

“Dad,” I said. “Don’t call her an old broad.”

“Listen, Dollface,” he said. “That’s between your mother and me.” He grinned. “The old battle-ax is crazy about me, what can I say?”

The elevator landed with a thunk and opened, and we stepped inside. “What floor can I get you, Toots?” my father asked.

“Second, please,” I said.

“Your mother and I are on the fourth. It’s practically the penthouse, for chrissakes.”

I leaned back against the cool, vinyl elevator wall. “That’s great, Dad.”

“Whoops, I almost forgot.” He bent over and started unzipping the outside compartment on his suitcase. He stood up straight again and handed me a slightly squished green stuffed frog. “Here, I brought you a present. Remember when you were just a little whippersnapper, and every time it was your sister’s birthday, you got so jealous I had to go out and find something just for you?”

The elevator stopped at the second floor. I held the door open. “Oh, Dad,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Take good care of that now. It’s an authentic Jazzy J Frog. They’re not easy to find, you know.”

I took a closer look. The frog was about a foot tall and it was holding a sparkling Styrofoam globe in one arm.

“Squeeze its foot,” my father said.

I did, and the globe lit up and began changing colors, and Jazzy J started singing a bluesy version of “What a Wonderful World.”

“Howsabout that?” my father said. “Look. His lips move and everything. You don’t see that every day, now do you, Toots?”

I MANAGED TO FIT
all my stuff into my suitcase, even the rock tumbler. I rolled the suitcase over to the door and did a final check for anything I might have missed. I found Riley’s socks in one of the drawers. I took a few minutes to separate them and sort them by color. Matching red stripes with red stripes, and green with green, I rolled them into pairs again.

My earring supplies were still in my shoulder bag from this morning. I pulled out all the sea glass. I chose the two closest matching cobalt pieces, both shaped almost like triangles and the exact color of Noxzema jars. Then I went out to the balcony. I took my time and made the best pair of earrings I was capable of making at this point in my life.

I put them on the coffee table with a note.
Happy fiftieth birthday. I love you. Thanks for being my sister.
I left her the rosary beads, too, all in one piece. I just didn’t feel right about taking them apart.

I tucked Jazzy J under my arm and rolled on out the back door of the Fisherman’s Lodge. Nobody noticed me leaving, not even the gaffer. I bumped my suitcase down from the sidewalk to the parking lot.

The two Macks screamed as soon as they saw me. Riley looked up from taping a puffy paper bird to my rental car. “Oops,” he said.

“Ohmigod,” I said. “You’re one of them.”

“Run!” one of the Macks yelled. They did.

Pink frosting hearts decorated my windshield, and puffy paper birds were taped to the roof of the car, and to the outside mirrors, too. Their honeycombed wings looked like they couldn’t wait for a good breeze to start flapping. I reached out with one finger and sampled the frosting. Not bad.

I threw my suitcase into the trunk and rearranged my shrine on the passenger seat. I let St. Christopher ride shotgun. Jazzy J sat next to him on the seat, and I made a circle with the sea glass and the frog bead around them both.

I was basically okay until I started driving. Embarrassing as it was to admit, those puffy paper lovebirds always sort of got to me. When my eyes started to tear up, I figured if I was going down this road, I might as well go all the way. I squeezed Jazzy J’s foot, and his globe started flashing again.

For five exits Jazzy J sang “What a Wonderful World” over and over and over again while I alternated between singing along with him and sobbing away. I had a little trouble seeing through my tears, but the centers of the frosting hearts on the windshield were well placed and crystal clear. Riley and the Macks had done a great job in the tape department, too, so I didn’t lose a single lovebird.

I wanted to drive forever. I could start all over again. New apartment, new job, new boyfriend. Or maybe I’d head to Logan Airport and jump on the next plane going anywhere. Maybe this cycle I’d actually make it all the way to a full life.

I wasn’t sure if it was fear of success or fear of failure, or if I was just one of those people who knew how to start things but not what to do next.

My whole life began to flash before my eyes. I remembered my first pixie haircut, when I came out of the hairdresser’s looking like a boy, and everybody at school called me Johnny until it grew back. I remembered running for secretary of my Brownie troop and losing. I remembered the chorus teacher in fourth grade asking me not to sing so loud, so the other kids could have a chance. I remembered my first spin-the-bottle game in sixth grade, when the bottle didn’t point at me once, and the boy I had a crush on asked another girl to go steady. Clearly the writing had been on the wall a long time ago.

There was a new arched steel suicide fence at the Sagamore Bridge. Or maybe it wasn’t really new, but I just hadn’t noticed it the last time I’d driven down to the Cape.
DESPERATE
? the same old sign that had been there for as long as I could remember said.
CALL THE SAMARITANS
.

I drove off the bridge and onto the rotary. It was slated for replacement by a straightaway everyone was calling the
flyover
, so I circled around a couple times just because I still could. I was on my third loop around before I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I could go back to the hotel and start fresh with the gaffer. I could try to work out the mess with Noah. I could go home. I could keep driving around the rotary.

There was no sense causing an accident, so I waited until I was off the rotary and heading north on Route 3 before I called the Samaritans’ number.

“Hi, this is Doug,” a mellow voice said.

Jazzy J was still singing, so I turned him facedown to muffle the sound. “I bet you hear from a lot of lonely people,” I said.

“Yeah, we do,” Doug said. “That’s why we’re here.”

I wiped some tears away and tried not to sniff too loudly. “Do any of them ever, you know, get less lonely?”

“Sure, lots of them,” he said. He had a very reassuring tone, which I supposed was the idea.

“So you don’t think it’s like a set point? You know, that you’ll just keep screwing up your life to make sure you end up back at the same old level of lonely?”

“Nah,” he said. “That’s just an old wives’ tale.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll call you back if things work out,” I said.

“Thanks,” Doug said. “It’s always nice to hear good news.”

The tires of my rental car made a crunching sound on Noah’s mussel shell driveway. The lights were out in his studio, so I knocked on the side door of the house.

Sage started to bark. “Come in,” Noah said in a flat voice.

I pushed the door open. Sage jumped up and I squatted down so she could lick the salt off my face. “Hey,” Noah said. I looked up, and my heart did a little dance in my chest when I saw him.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” I said. “I get that you’re ready to be in a relationship now, but I think you should make sure that it’s really me you want, and that I just don’t happen to be in the right place at the right time. And maybe I should have called you, but do you have any idea how much time I spent sitting around pretending I wasn’t waiting for you to call? Oh, and, by the way, I love you, too.”

I realized I was still squatting, so I stood up. We were still standing about ten feet apart. I started to laugh. “God, we’re both horrible at this.”

“Hey, speak for yourself,” Noah said. He closed the gap between us.

Eventually, we stopped kissing. “This really is the thing, you know,” Noah said. “It’s definitely you I want, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to figure it out. I love you. And I really do want to spend my life with you.”

We kissed some more and then Noah reached past me to shut the door.

He stopped and looked out at my car. “Was there a wedding I should know about?”

“Long story,” I said.

He pulled the door closed. “About that other guy, the one who was just about to kiss you?”

“The truth?”

He nodded. I could feel him start to take a step away.

I put my arms around him and held him tight. “I’m not sure I realized this before I was driving up here, but my whole life, whenever a relationship got complicated, it just seemed easier to start moving on to the next guy rather than stay around and work things out. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I don’t want you to do that anymore either,” Noah said.

Noah insisted on going out for a real dinner date to celebrate. It was late, so we got a table overlooking the water at Wave.

“To us,” Noah said, touching his champagne glass to mine.

“To us,” I said.

Noah took a sip of his champagne, then put his glass down and reached over to hold both my hands. “You know, it’s funny how life goes. I would have thought by this point I’d be married with a house full of kids.”

“Me, too,” I completely surprised myself by saying.

“Really?” he said. “I thought you didn’t want kids.”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I made myself pretend I didn’t want the things I didn’t think I was going to get.”

We looked at each other. “You’re scaring me,” I said.

“No pressure,” he said. “We can always try another pet first.”

“Dog or cat?” I asked.

“You don’t really think I’m going to answer that, do you?”

30

I COULDN’T BELIEVE MY SISTER WAS GETTING ANOTHER
birthday cake. I thought the party Allison Flagg and I had thrown for her the night before should have been more than enough, even for a fiftieth. But no, while Noah, Seth, and my father fired up the grill on my parents’ side patio, the kids were in the kitchen, frosting the cake they’d secretly baked, and my mother and I were supposed to keep Geri outside so she wouldn’t see it. Not that any of us could exactly miss the unmistakable smell of just-baked cake, even out in the yard.

“Guess what Seth gave me for my birthday?” Geri asked.

“I give up,” my mother said.

“A new BlackBerry.”

“Pretty romantic,” I said.

The birthday girl looked over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. “Follow me,” she whispered.

My mother and I trailed her into the garage. Geri grabbed a shovel, and we headed back outside and over to the saint hole.

That old boyfriend of mine, the one who couldn’t stop quoting Yogi Berra, would have called this déjà vu all over again. “We really need to find a new hobby,” I said. “This saint thing is getting old.”

“I’m still angling, but Seth hasn’t quite caved yet,” Geri said. “I just don’t want to take any chances on the house selling before he comes around.”