Moonstone (11 page)

“You know, things with Hannah and me were really bad in the end. Do you mind not mentioning that you bumped into me?”

“She’s a different Hannah now. You won’t believe how much she’s changed.”

Kelsey didn’t believe it. But more than that, she didn’t want to test her own emotions with a reunion. “I don’t want to be the reason she has a relapse. And honestly, I don’t have the money for a therapist for myself.”

Sadie squinted at Kelsey. “You were the reason she finally got help, you know. My parents told me everything you did for her. She started in rehab—on her own—after that last trip to the hospital. I don’t even know if she’d be alive now if you hadn’t made that call…We all tried to get her off the meds and she refused. Even after the DUI she wouldn’t stop drinking. It wasn’t until you convinced her.”

“I didn’t convince her of anything. I put her on a suicide watch. That was it. If she finally went into rehab, it wasn’t because of me.”

Sadie sighed. “She’ll kill me for not telling her that I’ve seen you—here in Raceda of all places.”

“She won’t kill you, Sadie. She won’t ever know,” Kelsey argued. “I don’t want her to try and get back in touch with me. Not yet. I don’t think it’d be good for her. Or me. You understand, right?”

Sadie was quiet for a long moment. Finally she said, “Okay, but you know she has her ways of finding things out.” Sadie paused. “If you talk to Nate, tell him he’s too old to be a surf bum. I miss that SOB. But don’t tell him that part. He doesn’t need to know that I miss him. I’m engaged to an orthopedic surgeon, but I can’t stop thinking about a surf bum. Go figure.”

“Go figure,” Kelsey agreed.

Kelsey drove to the marina knowing she’d have to reschedule one of her afternoon appointments. The conversation with Sadie had been the kicker to an already crappy day. Even if she didn’t have time for it, she needed a break. She parked in her usual spot and then stared at the water for several minutes, trying to push away the questions that Sadie had brought to light. Was Hannah really different now? Could she stay clean—let alone sober?

John was hosing down the front deck of the watchtower. He never smiled at her, but he always waved which, she’d noticed, was more greeting than he gave anyone else. She climbed out of the car and headed down to the dock. John met her at the gate and held it open.

“It’s a little choppy out there.”

Kelsey nodded. She’d watched the whitecaps from her car. “I’ve been out in worse.”

John glanced at the sky and then grunted. “Wear a life jacket. I don’t like these clouds.”

It wasn’t worth an argument. The fact that Kelsey had been going out alone in the kayak since she was fourteen wouldn’t matter to him. After her dad moved out, Kelsey became a regular at the marina. She’d come to escape the gloom in her house and John became protective of her during those years. He didn’t seem to realize she was an adult now. Kelsey passed by him and went to the storage unit. She changed out of her work clothes and then shimmied into a wetsuit. She carefully folded up her blouse and suit and set them on the dusty workbench. A neon orange life jacket hung from a hook near the door and she reluctantly slipped this on over the wetsuit.

By the time she had the kayak in the water, the breeze had picked up sharply and the marina’s windsocks were sideways. She saw John watching her and waved, then tapped the chest of her life vest. He nodded and pointed at the gathering clouds. With John’s warning in mind, she pushed the kayak in a few feet and then hopped into her seat. She wouldn’t be gone long enough for him to send the ferry looking for her.

With the winds blowing hard from the north and the tide coming in, she had a good fight starting out. Her left shoulder ache came on quickly but after she reached Wates Bridge and the current eased, the pain subsided. She’d grown used to ignoring all but the knife-sharp stabbing pain.

She passed under the bridge and rowed at a slower pace, angling the kayak toward the slough. Beyond the bridge, the bay narrowed to a shallow passage. At low tide, even kayakers got stuck on sandbars. Larger rigs had no chance of making it up the slough, but because of the smooth water and the wildlife along the marshy edges, Kelsey preferred the spot. She wasn’t the only one. It was often too crowded with kayakers on weekends to have any peace. Through the week, though, she had the place to herself.

An otter popped up alongside her kayak, and she settled back to watch him crack open a mussel. He ate his snack, fastidiously cleaning his whiskers afterward, and then rolled in the water while she watched. Finally he dove under the water. Kelsey waited for him to pop his head up again, but he’d disappeared. Kelsey glanced at her watch and reluctantly turned the kayak around. The sun peeked out between the clouds, glaringly bright on the water, and then disappeared as quickly as it had shone.

She could see the back of the waterfront building where Joy’s optometry clinic was—close enough to the marina that they could meet for a long lunch sometime. Or she could borrow a kayak from John and show Joy a new angle on the bay. Maybe a hike along the shoreline trail was more Joy’s thing. Mather Island was the best spot for wildlife…

Kelsey shook her head. She was already planning their first date. She hadn’t dated anyone since Hannah, but then she hadn’t officially even dated Hannah. She was out of practice even asking someone out on a date. With Hannah it had just happened. The fact that it never should have happened in the first place was part of the problem.

Kelsey sighed. She’d come out to the bay to escape, like always, and the problems followed her. She watched a gull swoop past. The bird came close enough that she could hear the rustle of his feathers. She neared the bridge and had to focus on the water again. The current was always strongest where the warmer river mixed in with the bay and with the wind tugging, she worked up a sweat. She thought of taking off the life jacket, but the image of John’s face flashed in her mind and she ignored the sweat dripping down her back. By the time she made it back to the docks, she was wiped. There was a shower waiting for her and then the late afternoon meeting. But her thoughts wandered far from the afternoon schedule.

* * *

Kelsey counted the heads of a group of middleschool kids splashing in the deep end and then glanced at the toddler bobbing next to his mom. There was still another five minutes until shift change. Way too long to listen to Andrew. He’d been talking nonstop for the past ten minutes about the fight. Everyone seemed to be talking about it.

“I heard that one of the teachers called the cops,” Andrew said.

“No one called the cops,” Kelsey argued.

“That’s what I heard.” He shrugged. “Someone said that Indian kid Najeeb had a knife.”

“No one had a knife,” Kelsey said.

“JD said he did. Anyway, how would you know?” Andrew paused. “Oh wait, I forgot, you’re best friends with Joy the lesbo so you probably know exactly what happened.” He smirked. “And Joy’s brother started everything by saying that he could take out JD with one punch.”

Kelsey shook her head. “That’s not what I heard.”

“From who?” Andrew shook his head. He didn’t like to be wrong. Especially about gossip.

Kelsey had heard the story from Sadie, as unlikely a source as that would seem to Andrew. JD, or Cowboy, as everyone called him, had asked Hannah, Sadie’s little sister, to go with him to the Year-End Dance. Hannah had turned him down but Cowboy kept bugging her about going all through their biology class. Finally in the middle of class she told him to shut up asking her because she already had a date. Cowboy wanted to know who the date was and Hannah turned around and pointed to the first guy she saw—Najeeb. Cowboy didn’t believe her so he asked Najeeb if it was true. Najeeb played along. Of course he was taking Hannah to the dance.

Kelsey hadn’t heard of Najeeb until that morning. Now everyone seemed to be talking about him and Terrence, Joy’s brother. The story was that they were in a gang together but Kelsey didn’t believe it. She glanced at the office. She could make out Joy’s profile at the front counter. She was busy checking in a guest. Kelsey had waited all day for a chance to talk to Joy alone. Everyone who’d been involved in the fight, including Joy, had been called in to the vice principal’s office. But there hadn’t even been a fight so the whole thing seemed ridiculous.

One of the middle school kids tossed a ball from the pool into the garbage can. Kelsey blew her whistle and Andrew laughed when the can tipped over.

“Welcome, summer.”

“We’ve got another week,” Kelsey argued. “You get to deal with those kids. The garbage can’s on your half of the pool.”

Andrew had already righted the garbage can twice before and chewed out the same kids for throwing the ball out of the pool. He grumbled now about hating his job but trudged over to the garbage can. Andrew’s one redeeming quality was that he would follow orders.

Kelsey eyed the front desk again. She didn’t have the guts to talk to Joy yesterday and she wasn’t certain today would be any different. Joy had been shaking when Kelsey sat down next to her and the bus ride was quiet—at least at their bench. Joy had kept her gaze focused out the window and her jaw worked up and down. She looked like she was pissed at the whole world.

Andrew came back to the ladder and pointed at the clock. “Shift change.”

He went to change places with Joy. Kelsey kept her eyes on the pool, refusing to watch Joy come out of the office. She’d stolen too many glances at her in swim practice that afternoon, hoping that no one would notice. But she was worried that Joy had noticed.

Joy circled around the pool, counting swimmers with her index finger. She made her way over to Kelsey’s spot and then waited for Kelsey to climb down the ladder. She kept her gaze on the pool.

“I’ll take the deep end,” Kelsey volunteered. “The boys over there think the garbage can is a basketball net.”

Joy nodded. She climbed the three rungs up to the chair and settled in. Her jaw muscles worked up and down just like they’d done yesterday on the bus ride. She eyed two toddlers bobbing in life vests around their mom. The mom was focused on coaxing her older kid off the steps.

“Everything okay?” Kelsey asked.

Joy nodded.

“’Cause you seem upset.”

“Sorry.” Joy glanced at the hot tub. Two gray-haired seniors were soaking.

“You don’t have to apologize. I was just wondering if you wanted to talk.”

Joy shook her head.

Kelsey sighed. She hadn’t thought of what she was going to say when she finally had a chance to talk to Joy. Now it occurred to her that even if Joy did want to talk about what had happened yesterday, there was no reason why she’d want to talk to Kelsey about it.

Finally Joy said, “I know you made sure the bus didn’t leave without me yesterday. Thank you.”

Kelsey nodded. At least it was an opening. She watched the boys tossing the ball back and forth and then said, “I heard that fight was all about the Year-End Dance.”

“That was JD’s excuse.”

“JD’s an asshole,” Kelsey said. “No one would want to go to a dance with him anyway.”

“Well, he can’t go to the dance now,” Joy said.

“Why not?”

Joy clenched her jaw and slowly exhaled. “Long story short, we’re all on probation.”

“For what?”

“Raceda High has a zero tolerance policy for fighting and weapons on campus,” Joy said. Her tone made it clear that she was repeating the words someone else had told her.

“But no one had a weapon.”

“Someone told the vice principal that they saw a knife,” Joy said. She sighed. “They can’t prove anything but we’re all on probation. I don’t care. I’m done with that place in a week and the good news is, I got out of having to give the graduation speech.” She paused. “Zero tolerance. I told the vice principal that he’d made my day. He was pissed.”

“Good job. Mr. Campbell’s an idiot. And an asshole.”

“He’s not the only one. No one else is going to challenge this,” Joy said. “And Mike Craven didn’t get put on probation because apparently that would mean he couldn’t graduate. For some reason, Mr. Campbell believed Mike and JD—that Mike was only there to break up the fight.” Joy swung her leg and kicked the rungs of the ladder.

Of course Mr. Campbell believed them. They were white. Everyone else involved wasn’t. She knew Joy had to be thinking the same thing. “Screw Raceda High.”

“Yeah.” Joy glanced down at Kelsey. “Screw Raceda High,” she repeated.

“One more week. We’re so close to being done.”

“I keep telling myself that.” Joy paused. “One week left and now I don’t have to give that speech.” She grinned. “In fact, I’m not sure why I’m not doing a happy dance right now.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Joy waved her arms over her head and bounced back and forth in the chair for a few seconds. Then she stopped dancing and burst out laughing. Her eyes glistened, but she looked right at Kelsey with a big smile.

“Pie for dinner?”

“It’s savory,” Barb said. She set the pie on the cooling rack. “And people have pie for dinner all the time.”

“Who has pie for dinner?”

“People everywhere.” Barb shrugged. “Anyway, I wanted to try a new recipe.”

“It smells delicious.” Kelsey had started calling her mom “Barb” sometime after high school. Now she alternated back and forth. Most days their relationship was more like roommates or friends than a mother-daughter equation.

“What time is it?”

“Five o’clock.” Kelsey didn’t need to ask if Denise was coming for dinner. Her mom had cleaned the house and was wearing perfume. The doorbell rang and Barb set the potholder on the counter. She headed for the front door but hesitated in the hallway by the mirror.

“You look great,” Kelsey said.

Barb glanced back at her. “I only wanted to make sure I didn’t have flour on my blouse from the pie crust.”

“Denise wouldn’t mind if you had flour on your blouse. She’d probably offer to help you change, though.”

Barb waved a finger at Kelsey and then pivoted away from the mirror. Kelsey smiled. According to Barb, she had a close friendship with Denise and nothing more. Kelsey wasn’t about to push her into admitting something she wasn’t ready to admit. Denise came over at least three times a week and always brought either a bottle of wine or a dessert when she was invited for dinner. Sometimes she showed up with flowers as well. Regardless of what Barb said, Kelsey knew that Denise was working on more than a friendship.