It was pretty at the beach, even if it was entirely different from the coast in Washington. Where I was used to rocks and cliffs and angry waves shooting plumes of water, there was nothing but gentle swells and sand and sawgrass. No people, no palm trees, no shuttered lifeguard stands or homes with oceanfront views. As I walked the empty stretch of shoreline, it was easy to imagine that I was the first to have ever been there.
Alone with my thoughts, I tried to picture what my parents were doing. Or would be doing later, because it was still early there. I wondered whether Morgan would be practicing the violin—she did that a lot on Saturdays—or whether she’d go shopping at the mall for gifts. I wondered if they’d gotten the tree yet or if that was something they would do later today or tomorrow or even next weekend. I wondered what Madison and Jodie were up to, whether either of them had met a new guy, what movies they’d gone to see lately, or where—if anywhere—they were going for the holidays.
Yet, for the first time since I’d left Seattle, the thoughts didn’t make me ache with a sadness that felt overwhelming. Instead, I realized that it had been the right decision to come here. Don’t get me wrong—I still wished none of this had ever happened—but somehow I knew that my aunt Linda was exactly what I needed at this time in my life. She seemed to understand me in a way that my parents never had.
Maybe because, just like me, she always felt alone.
*
After I returned to the house, I showered and stuffed the things I would need for church in one of the duffel bags I’d brought from Seattle, then spent the rest of the day reading various chapters in my textbooks, still trying to catch up and hoping that some of the information would stick in my head long enough for me to be able to complete the homework without having to do the extra problems that Bryce would no doubt concoct.
Aunt Linda returned at two—Saturdays were shorter days at the shop—and made sure that I’d packed everything else I needed but had forgotten, from toothpaste to shampoo. Afterward, I helped her set up the nativity scene on the fireplace mantel. As we worked, I noticed for the first time that her eyes were the same as my dad’s.
“What are your plans tonight?” I asked. “Since you’ll have the place to yourself?”
“Gwen and I are going to have dinner,” she said. “We’ll play gin rummy afterwards.”
“That sounds relaxing.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a pleasant evening with Bryce and his family as well.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“We’ll see.” The way she said it while also averting her eyes made my next question automatic.
“Do you not want me to go?”
“You two have spent a lot of time together already this week.”
“Tutoring,” I said. “Because you thought I needed it.”
“I know,” she said. “And while I agreed that you could go, I do have concerns.”
“Why?”
She adjusted the figurines of Mary and Joseph before answering. “It’s sometimes easy for young people to…lose themselves in feelings of the heart.”
The words she’d used—both old-fashioned and nunlike—took me a few seconds to process, but I felt my eyes widen. “You think I’m going to fall for him?”
When she didn’t answer, I almost laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I went on. “I’m pregnant, remember? I have no interest in him at all.”
She sighed. “I wasn’t worried about you.”
*
Bryce showed up a few minutes after we’d finished decorating the mantel. Still a bit off-balance from my aunt’s comment but kissing her on the cheek anyway, I stepped out the door with my duffel bag while he was still ascending the steps.
“Hey there,” he said. Like me, he was dressed for a wintry night. The cool olive jacket had been replaced by a thick down coat like my own. “You ready? Can I take that for you?”
“It’s not heavy, but sure.”
After he grabbed the duffel, we waved goodbye to my aunt and made for his truck, the same one I’d seen on the ferry. Up close, it was bigger and taller than I remembered. He opened the passenger door for me, but it felt a bit like I was scaling a small mountain before I could finally crawl inside. He closed the door behind me and then got in from the other side, setting the duffel between us. Though the sky was clear, the temperature was already dropping. From the corner of my eye, I could see my aunt turn on the lights of the Christmas tree, which shone in the window, and for whatever reason, I suddenly thought back to the moment I’d first seen him and his dog on the ferry.