Swans Landing #1 - Surfacing (32 page)

“I have something for you.” Lake tapped the box between us. “In this box are all the letters and emails your mom and I wrote to each other over the years.”

I eyed the box. “Mom wrote to you?”

“Not often, but yes, sometimes. I wrote to her more than she did to me. Before she died, she sent me all the letters she had saved for you. No matter how it may seem, I never stopped loving her, or you. I’ve always kept you two close.”

Lake unclasped the chain around his neck and handed it over to me, the silver pendant swaying back and forth. It was a locket, I could see that as I looked closely. Inside was a small grainy picture. It was Mom, a much younger, healthier woman, with a baby version of me pressed close to her. I couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks old, so tiny and making a grumpy face at the camera. But Mom was smiling, big and full and like I’d never seen her smile before.

“Your mom left Swans Landing after Josh’s dad died,” Lake told me. “The accident caused a lot of problems for everyone. People didn’t trust finfolk anymore. Sometimes the confrontations got violent. Your mom didn’t want you to grow up in that environment. She tried to protect you.”

I closed the locket, rubbing my thumb over the etched surface. “Mr. Connors said he told Mom to get rid of me when I was born.”

A muscle in Lake’s jaw twitched. “Mr. Connors has always had a grudge against me. Oliver Canavan’s death only fueled that. He wanted to scare your mama away to hurt me. And he did.”

“Why?” I asked.

Lake shook his head. “It’s not important right now. The only thing that matters is that you’re safe and you’re where you’ve always belonged.”

“You should have told me the truth long ago,” I said. “Even if I still grew up in Tennessee, it would have been better if I had known this part about myself.”

Lake nodded sadly as he took the locket back. “I can’t make up for the last sixteen years, but I would like to try to make things better between us from this point on.”

I considered his words for a moment. Would it be possible to move on and salvage some kind of relationship after all those years of hurting?

“I can’t guarantee that we’ll ever be best friends or anything,” I said, “but like it or not, you’re it. The last family I have. We can at least see what happens.”

Lake looked relieved. He pushed the box of letters toward me. “These are for you,” he said. “They were always meant for you to read one day.”

“Thanks,” I said.

There was an awkward silence between us for a moment.

“So,” Lake said, “do you think we should hug or something? That’s what they always do in those cheesy sitcoms, right?”

“I thought you didn’t watch TV,” I said.

“I don’t own a TV,” he corrected me. “I have in fact watched it once or twice.”

“How about maybe getting a small flat screen so I’ll have something to watch and keep me entertained when I get suspended?” I asked.

Lake shot me a scowl. “How about you try not getting suspended anymore?”

I held my arms open in an invitation. “No promises,” I told him.

Lake leaned toward me, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me close. He kissed the top of my head and I closed my eyes as I breathed in the comforting smell of salt on his skin. The hug wasn’t awkward at all, but tight and warm.

“I have one more question,” I said. “How did your seashell picture of Mom and me end up in Josh’s room?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I gave it to Mrs. Canavan as a gift long ago. I don’t know why. An attempt at a peace offering, I guess. But I think it only made her hate me.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “It’s a shame she can’t see that.”

He smiled. “Thanks.” Then his expression turned serious. “And now I have a question When and why exactly were you in Josh’s bedroom?”

* * *

Once I’d reassured Lake enough about my relationship with Josh, he climbed back down the ladder and left me alone in my loft with the box of letters. I ran my hand over the dusty cardboard surface. It was an old shoebox, nothing worth taking a second glance at. But inside, there could be the answers to all the questions I’d never had a chance to ask my mother. All of her thoughts, her words, waiting for me to read them.

My gaze fell on something else, hidden away in a corner of my room. Mom’s letter, crumpled and tossed into the shadows where I’d thrown it my first day in Swans Landing. In the time since then, when everything had become so confusing, I’d forgotten all about it.

I crawled over and retrieved it from the cobwebs and dust, then returned to the mattress. Laying back into my pillow, I smoothed out the paper, trailing my fingers over my mom’s shaky handwriting as the whisper of her voice filled my head.

My little Mara-bug,

The first thing I want to tell you is this: I love you. Please understand that everything I’ve ever done
I
did simply because I loved you.

The second thing is: It’s okay if you’re angry. I’m angry too. I wanted to always be there for you and I’m angry that I can’t do that.
But now you’re where you belong, though you don’t know it yet. Your dad is a good man. Try not to be mad at him. He loves you and he’s only wanted what’s best for you.

There are so many things I wish I had time and courage to tell you. I’m afraid I have no real words of wisdom to guide you in your life, nothing that will make everything you will soon learn and endure easier.

But I have hopes and wishes to last you a thousand lifetimes. I want you to live the fullest life you possibly can. Laugh so much that your stomach hurts. Don’t ever give up dreaming. And
never be afraid to push yourself beyond your limits.

But most of all, I want you to love.

No matter what happened between your father and me, despite how our story ended, you born out of love. My wish for you is that you know love like that and that you don’t make the same mistake I did. Love is hard, Mara, but it is worth it in the end. Don’t be afraid to open your heart, to let someone touch your soul, to live every moment to its fullest because of that love.

It turns out I do have some words of wisdom for you: Love deeply, wholly, and without fear.

Love always,

Mom

I sprang to my feet, letting Mom’s last words flutter to my mattress as I slid down the ladder from the loft.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

My hands shook when I knocked on the front door of the deteriorating house. The sun had already begun to climb high in the orange-blue sky and it would be a beautiful Saturday in early March. People were outside already, getting ready for the day ahead.

But the little house looked empty and sad, a little lonelier than it had before. I shivered slightly, though I wasn’t sure why.

Mrs. Canavan’s expression turned fierce when she saw me. “Isn’t it bad enough that you took my son away?” she growled. “Now you’re harassing me at my home?”

I blinked at her. “I didn’t take your son away.”

Mrs. Canavan opened the door wider and flailed her arm toward the silent house behind her. “He’s gone, isn’t he? He left early this morning because of your kind. I knew you were trying to steal him away all along. He’s filth, just like his father. Get off my property before I call the police.”

The door slammed in my face, leaving me staring at my reflection in the broken glass.

Josh was gone? I stumbled down the steps, wondering what Mrs. Canavan had meant. We hadn’t had a chance to talk the night before. Lake had led me straight home after the confrontation and I’d gone to bed exhausted.

Understanding washed over me. Of course. His mom didn’t like it that he’d told everyone the truth about his heritage. So he’d probably left to give her some time to get over it.

And where else would he go?

My bike raced across the island, my feet pedaling at rapid speed toward the little parking lot at Pirate’s Cove. I skidded to a stop, letting my bike fall to the ground as I jumped off. Anyone inside the woods would have heard my approach with all the noise I made running down the path toward the beach. I had to get to Josh. I didn’t know what we would do now that he couldn’t go back home, but we would figure it out. Together.

I’d been wrong before. There were many reasons for me to stay in Swans Landing. I belonged here, and Josh and I could have a lifetime on the island to figure everything out.

The wind through the trees overhead sang a sighing song as I rushed forward, pushing past the low-hanging branches. A squirrel chattered happily somewhere above me and birds called out, as if announcing my arrival and assuring me that everything would be okay. My face cracked into a wide smile as I broke through the trees to the sand along the little hidden beach.

But our beach was empty.

“Josh?” I asked. No clothes lay on the beach to indicate he had gone swimming. The calm water gently lapped on the shore around the feet of the birds that searched for food in the surf.

Halfway down the beach I found a long, narrow box sitting in the sand. I knelt in front of it, running my hands over the surface. After a moment, I opened the lid. Inside was my camera, which I’d left at Josh’s house that day his mom threw the glass at my head.

There was a note with a few words scrawled on it in a small, blocky handwriting.

You have a million more pictures to take and a life worth living on land. - Josh

Underneath, there was a picture of the ocean made entirely of seashells. The little figure of the woman carrying the baby still walked along the shoreline, frozen in place.

I sat down in the sand, my gaze scanning the horizon, as if maybe I could look hard enough to find him out there. But the water remained empty except for a few birds bobbing on the surface.

He wasn’t here.

I remained sitting on the sand, my eyes locked on the distant horizon and my arms curled tight around my knees for a long time. I didn’t even notice the person who had sat down next to me until he spoke.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I turned, blinking at Dylan. He didn’t look at me as the wind whipped his hair into his face. He traced his fingers through the sand, letting the golden grains sift through them.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I’ve been up for hours. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

My stomach twisted painfully at the hurt in his tone. “Dylan, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.”

“I know,” he said. “I think maybe all along I knew you didn’t feel the same way I did, but I didn’t want to admit it. I kept thinking that maybe I could be good enough to make you forget him.”

I shook my head, blinking away the stinging tears. “It’s not that you aren’t good enough.”

Dylan lifted his gaze to meet mine and I saw how sad his pale blue eyes were. “It’s that you love him,” he said.

I nodded.

He turned his face back toward the ocean, where dolphins jumped among the rippling waves far off shore. He looked so small and lonely, though we were only separated by a few inches.

“But did you ever really give me a chance?” he asked.

I dragged my fingers through the sand around me. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Dylan. Do I care about you? Yes, but probably not the way you want. But do I think you really love me? I don’t know that you really know me.”

His eyes flashed, but I held up a hand to silence him. “You’ve wanted me to fit into your life, where everything is good. You’ve wanted me to see Lake as you see him, this guy who can do no wrong. You pretend the bad things don’t exist if you don’t talk about them. I’m not perfect, and Josh has always seen me for who I am.”

Dylan’s lips pressed together into a tight white line. “Forget it.” He stood, brushing sand from his jeans. “I’m going back home. You coming?”

“No,” I said, looking back at the water again. I wasn’t ready to give up hope yet. “I’m going to stay here a while longer.”

* * *

When I finally left Pirate’s Cove hours later, I spotted Miss Gale walking along the road ahead of me. At first, I didn’t recognize her because she walked slowly, her shoulders stooped over and she looked much older than she ever had before.

“Miss Gale?” I asked as I fell into step next to her.

She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Oh, Mara,” she said, her voice croaking. “How…how are you, sugar?”

“Miss Gale,” I said, taking her arm. “What’s happened? Are you okay?”

Her face creased into a deep frown and she shook her head. “Sailor’s gone.”

Tingles raced up my spine and across my scalp. “What do you mean,
gone?
Where did she go?”

She gestured vaguely in the direction of the water. “Out there somewhere,” she said. “I tried to talk sense into her, to convince her to stay at least until the end of the school year. But she said she had to go now. She’s been talking about finding her mama for so long, but I never thought she’d actually leave.”