Spring Tide (13 page)

She went to see Boy Wonder and I went back to the condo. I didn’t see anyone in the lobby, but Sylvia’s boyfriend, Joel, was there on the other side of the door two feet away, his gray hair melding with the glass. His eyes cut through the pane and I reared back. I took a step to the left for him to come out. He didn’t move.
Is he waiting for me to put in my code? What’s he waiting for? Stop looking at me like that!
Upon hearing the tick of the door automatically unlocking, I pulled it open, a blast of cold air escaping. He stood his ground.

I turned sideways to slip past him. “Excuse me, please.”

His face remained forward, but his eyes tracked me. I quickly escaped into the elevator.

_______

I went to Jericho’s to beg off of a surfing lesson. After the last one, I had saltwater coming out of my nose in little gushes for about ten hours. That day, I wanted dry sinuses. Julia was sitting at the dining table writing in a book that was bound in worn brown leather, its pages a heavy parchment that were yellowed on the edges. A calligraphy pen was in her hand and a bottle of cabernet was on the table.

“Sourdough!”

She smiled. “I like that you call me that.”

I pointed to his closed bedroom door. “He around?”

“Sleeping.”

Must be nice.
His schedule was so flexible it was obscene. He surfed whenever, slept whenever, put in a few hours at the docks whenever, randomly took off for Maine. If he didn’t have a lockbox full of tools in the back of his truck, I’d swear he didn’t have a job.

“I’ve been a little concerned about him.” I sat across from her. “He’s been watching the gulf like a big whale’s gonna jump out and eat us all. I mean, I know surfers do this but he’s really contemplative or anxious or something. It’s … subnormal.”

She refilled her glass. “Jason hasn’t had the easiest life. Watching the water and surfing is how he manages himself, how he revives his will. He’s okay. Between you and me, he’s a worrier, always has been.”

I looked at the book. “What’s that? It looks—”

“It’s a crazy historical account about a society of superhumans with magical powers, imagine that!” She closed it. “Ha! Love it!”

“Cool.”
Julia’s a little nutty today.

Her husband, Donovan, walked through the room and kind of nodded to me.

She touched my elbow. “Jason told me about your plans for fall. I’d really like it if you stayed with us once your roommate leaves. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t like the idea of you being all alone, and I’d love the company. You could save for school.”

I repeated her words in my head. “It’s very nice of you to offer, but I, uh, wouldn’t feel right about living with you. I’d feel like I was taking advantage. And I’ve made other arrangements.”

“That’s fine. Donovan and I just wanted you to know that you’re more than welcome here.”

“Thanks. Wanna bake some soda bread?”

“With raisins?”

“You know it.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Your sculpture is coming along beautifully.” She touched a barb.

“We connected.”

Her hands clamped on to his elbows. “Have you been with her? You tell me right now if you’ve compromised her! Damn it, Jason!”

“I have not been with her! She isn’t obsessed, comes out of it quickly. This isn’t anything like Rachel. We have connection. She has sight. We’ve started having the dream.” He pulled away. “Everything’s backward.”

She walked around the twisted metal in the middle of the garage. “Why do you think she has sight if she’s not aware?”

“She reacts. I know she sees it. I’m trying to control it but I’ve never had to do that before.”

“That would be difficult. The indication, then connection, then the dream—the progression is all out of order. Why? On one hand you shouldn’t be involved with her at all, but on the other there’s Devon.” She tapped her finger on her lips. “Hmmm. If you’re connected to her and she has sight for you, then you’re the best avenue to bringing her around.”

“You just got all over my ass for kissing her.”

“Appropriate contact. Stay close to her, sleep next to her. Your proximity alone may do the trick.”

He clapped once and put his palms up. “If I sleep in the same bed with her she’ll have the dream.”

“I’ll give you the words to stop it. She won’t be cognizant she’s having it, but you will, allowing the process to continue.”

“Neat.”

“What does she like?”

“She likes it when I run my fingers through her hair.”

“Then we’ll work it that way.”

_______

I
couldn’t find any scissors. I didn’t need scissors, but needed to know where they were.

“There’s something about him that’s not right.” I said to Sarah, who was sitting at the island.

“Awww! But he’s so nice to look at. And he puts up with Nick. And he has great teeth. What about our weekly card game?”

The four of us had something of a card club going on Sunday afternoons the previous three weeks. Competition had arisen between Jericho and me, but when it came down to the final hand, victory was mine. His irritation grew with each defeat and I was thoroughly enjoying it.

“Let me ask you this. When you first saw Jericho, would you’ve put him in the same class with me as far as looks go?” I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “I knew it. He’s way too hot and it’s painfully obvious when other girls see me with him.”

“That’s not what I was thinking. You’re analyzing again. You can’t do that.”

“But you and Nick are a physically perfect match.”

“Really? Thanks! Is that it though? That’s the issue? He’s too hot, you poor thing.” She covered her eyes. “Oh no! He can’t kiss. The truly hot always have some drawback.”

“He totally can. He rarely goes for the French kiss—”

“Y’all’ve been going out for weeks. What were you doing all those nights at his house?”

“Not much. Sarah, he barely lays hands on me. He touches my hair, face, arms … puts his hand on my stomach sometimes, but as far as north or south of that, nothin’.” I checked the junk drawer again. “Weird, right?”

“Very. Wait, did you tell him about Joshua?”

“I talked about Joshua but didn’t give him details.”

“Well, maybe he’s trying to be sensitive to that.”

“Here’s the other thing. He has the most erratic job schedule ever. He takes off on short notice all the time, and when he’s gone he doesn’t pick up his phone, doesn’t call for days. Now I’ll be the first to admit I know nothing about commercial fishing—”

“You think he’s got a girl in Maine?”

“I don’t know what I think.” I didn’t know how to express that there were too many things I didn’t understand about him, and much more than the glow I thought I saw in his eyes.

She took hold of my wrist, stopping me from rummaging through a cupboard. “Jericho hangs on every word you say, watches everything you do. He’s not seeing someone else. This is new to you so take my word for it. Oh my goodness, it’s six! Go get ready! Right now! I’ll find a lip gloss that’s in your color wheel!”

I went back to my room and changed into a retro, dark green sheath that stopped above my knees and actually made my body look curvy. Sarah had personal shopped it for me because I had nothing. I smiled, remembering how she’d clapped and jumped around, had gone into a big ol’ monologue about trends and accessories, both notable and unfortunate when I’d asked her to find me something to wear for that night. I would’ve given anything to see a CAT scan of her brain activity right then, neurons firing in all directions in every shade of the spectrum.

After a minute, she came in and started on the ninety thousand tiny buttons that ran up the back of the dress. After fretting over my hair, she finally decided on a headband, covered my entire person with hairspray, and whipped out mascara. Jericho knocked on the door as the final coat was being applied, and then he and I left for dinner.

I was seated to his right at a table dimly lit by candles at The Landing, one of Corpus’s best restaurants. If he’d taken me there because he felt guilty for having dogged me the previous three days I didn’t care. I’d really been wanting to check the place out.

I took him in, his sport coat, his hair pulled back, and the only word that came to mind was “virile.”

He looked me over. “Who are you?”

“I know. It’s like we’re grownups or something.”

“I think we’ve both been grown up for a long time, but I was talking about your dress. You’re kind of a tomboy. That’s something I’ve always really liked about you.” He turned his water glass on the table. “I think what I’m trying to say is that you look so beautiful.”

“Thank you, gorgeous.” I winked at him.

The waitress cleared our dessert plates.

He leaned over, kissed my cheek, and put a box wrapped in blue paper in front of me. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” I stopped picking at the tape. “How’d you know?”

“Sarah.”

I’d made her promise no surprise parties or stripper-grams or a special spa day in my honor, thereby ruining her life. So instead she told everybody, polished my nails, and had probably strenuously recommended The Landing to Jericho.

I crumpled up the gift wrap and set it to the side. “She made me eat birthday cake for breakfast in my bed—”

“That’s kickin’! So is there any left or it was one of those individual cakes?”

“Tons left, all for you.”

Inside the box was a flat, pale green pendant, oval in shape, two inches long and an inch wide that dangled from a long, thin gold chain.

“It’s—”

I held it up to the light and checked the patina. “I know what it is. It’s sea glass. This color’s hard to find and it’s old.”

“How’d you know that?”

“I read a lot when you’re in Maine or surfing and there’s a book about sea glass on the second shelf in your living room.”

“I found that glass in Costa Rica, no Puerto Rico, when I was eleven and,” he put the chain around my neck, the pendant falling to the hollow between my breasts, “it always brought me good luck. Anyway, I ran across it a while back and had it mounted for you. It matches your eyes.”

“If it’s lucky will it keep jellyfish away?”

“Actually it will.”

“Then I’ll never take it off.” I glanced up to see a man standing to my left. Mid-thirties, dark curly hair, a sad excuse for a goatee, wearing the standard chef uniform. I was disappointed he didn’t do the puffy hat. Nobody did, but I would’ve.

“Hey, Jermaine,” Jericho looked from him to me. “This is Kris.”

“Jericho tells me you worked at La Maison in Austin,” he said with a thick Louisiana accent.

“For a few years.” I shook his hand.

“What was your station?”

“I assisted the sous chef, did a lot of prep, salads.”

His questioning continued regarding what I’d ordered and my opinions on its presentation and flavor. It felt like a pop quiz.

“Come by Monday at two and we’ll talk.” He moved on to the next table.

What just happened?
I held up my hand to Jericho, asking for explanation.

“His goatee is heinous, I know.”

I shook my head. “Not that. How does he know my résumé?”

“I see him at the fish market every so often. Last week, he was complaining about his staff so I thought of you.”

I sat forward. “You think of me when people complain?”

“No, I thought you’d like the opportunity. But seriously, have you ever seen a worse goatee?”

“I’m trying to imagine Donovan with a goatee like that.” I folded my napkin. “And what Julia’d say about it.”

“Nothin’ good. Julia likes Don as he is. He’s got a nice beard.”

“He does. You know what’s weird? Whenever I see Donovan, I get this strange feeling like … I dunno, like he’s been in my dreams.”

“Sexy dreams? Kidding. That reminds me, Julia told me she offered you a room at my house, but said you’d already found something?”

“Yeah. I’m all set.”

“Where?”

“The Black’s cottage.”

“Nick’s? After this summer, the place should be condemned.”

“It’s not so bad,” I lied.

“Well, you’ll only be two houses down the beach. But, Kris, if you stay with us you don’t have to share a room with me. There’s a spare off the kitchen. You could try it out for a week or two …”

I ran my fingers over the sea glass.

“You like it?”

“The necklace? I love it.”

He smiled, took care of the check, rose, and pulled out my chair for me.