The Day Before (7 page)

relax

I peel
his tense fingers
on his right hand
away from
the steering wheel,
one

two

three

four

five.

With each finger,
the scowl
disappears
a little more.

When I place
his hand on
my leg
and gently
caress it,
he smiles.

That’s better.

I heart ghosts

A hundred years ago
a teenager named Muriel explored
the abandoned lighthouse
with her friends.

As they were leaving,
she ran back inside
to retrieve her scarf.

And never came out.

When her friends searched
the lighthouse,
all they found was
a pool of blood
at the bottom of the stairs
leading up to the tower.

Some say
they’ve seen
and heard
strange things inside
the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse.
They think it’s haunted.

I hope we see Muriel.
Or hear her.
There’s nothing like a ghost
to help you forget
your own problems
for a while.

haunted indeed

It’s like a postcard.

I take picture
after picture
of the white lighthouse,
almost glowing against
the baby blue backdrop
of the sky.

I don’t ask Cade
to get in any of them.

But in my mind,
he’s there,
in every one,
like a ghost
haunting the place.

Haunting my heart is more like it.

hold on

The lighthouse is open
for us to explore,
so we go inside.

Up the narrow
spiral stairs
we climb,
higher and higher.

We are alone,
and I think of Muriel.
Is she hiding?
Watching us?

I stop occasionally
to look down.
I take a picture,
trying to capture
the way the stairs
appear to move
in a circular manner
through the air.

Above us,
at the very top,
is the dome of glass
and the light
that shines
out to the sea.

“Dang,” I say.
“No ghost.”

I turn to take another picture,
and when I’m least expecting it,
Cade grabs me and says,
“Boo!”

It knocks me off balance
and I have to grab him
so I don’t fall.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

My whole body tingles.

And in that moment,
even if we’re both
lost at sea,
it feels like maybe,
just maybe,
if we keep hanging on,
we’ll be able
to find our way.

sorrow in the air

Back outside,
we stand
at the edge
of a cliff
and look out
at the endless supply
of blue.

It takes my breath away.

Him
and me
and the sky
and the sea.

It’s like a dream.
The kind of dream
you wish for again and again,
night after night,
because it was so good
the first time.

But while my world
is momentarily
happy and dreamlike,
Cade’s seems to be
gray and gloomy.

Why is it
that every time
I feel like
we’re getting closer,
something causes him
to slip away?

I promised him fun,
damn it.

“Heads, glitter.
Tails, kite.”

“Glitter?” he asks.

“Have you ever thrown glitter in the air?”

“No.”

“Me neither.
And I want to.
P!nk says we should.”

But when he flips,
it’s tails.

So we’ll buy a kite
and hope the mood
takes off
along with it.

Nine months ago

Dear Amber,

We are grateful to you and your parents for the chance to meet you. I know it wasn’t easy for you.

When we first saw you walk into the attorney’s office, we were so happy to see you! Oh, how I wanted to give you a hug. But I could tell you weren’t ready for that. I hope the thirty-minute meeting showed you our hearts are in the right place.

Our attorney thinks we have a good chance at getting the ruling we desire. We felt it was important for you to hear from us personally, before the judge decides, why we’re doing this. Thank you, Amber. Thank you for that opportunity.

We find it fascinating that you play the drums! If that’s your passion, we’ll make sure you have what you need here, if you come stay with us.

We really can’t wait to get to know more about you.

Take care, honey.

Love,
Jeanie and Allen

in the moment

Music
can change the
mood in a
drumbeat.

So I search
Cade’s CDs again
for something good.

Finally I turn to
Matt Nathanson
who sings about
happy times
of love and lust.

I roll down my window.
Take a whiff of the salty air.
And hold myself back
from asking questions
that will drop us down
into a deep conversation.

As Cade drives
along the scenic highway,
we let the ocean
do the talking.
We let Matt
do the singing.
And we let ourselves
sit back and simply

listen.

that’s better

At the Kite Company,
Cade says,
“You know what?
This has been a good day.”

“Is it over?” I ask.

He shakes his head.
Puts his arm around me.
Smiles.
Or tries to.

“No. Thank God, no.”

eight arms and a hundred questions

Inside the shop
we see kites
in every shape and color.

“Did you see that movie?”
Cade asks.

This one is easy.
“The Kite Runner?
Yeah. Depressing.”

An orange octopus
swims across
the ceiling.

I imagine the orange
against the sky,
bright and beautiful,
its fabricated tentacles
touching the tips
of the clouds.

I point and tell Cade,
“I want that one.”

“Perfect.”
As I head to the register,
a guy and a girl
come in.

Cade sees them
and tries to hide
among the dragons,
diamonds, and deltas
hanging from racks.

But it’s a small store,
and difficult not to be noticed.
Cade chats with them while I pay.

When I’m done,
Cade introduces me.

“Amber, this is Parker and Emily.
My dad and Parker’s dad are friends.”

I smile.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Parker says.

And just as I’m about
to make a lame comment
about the weather
to keep the conversation going,
Cade says, “Sorry, we gotta run.
Great to see you guys.”

He doesn’t wait for a response.

He’s walking so fast,
he’s practically out
the door by the time
my legs even
start moving.

“Call me!” Parker yells out.
“I’m here for you, man.”

Cade waves and then
we’re back in his car
with an orange octopus
that’s as bright
as my ever-growing
curiosity.

20/20

Hidden, there,
behind the face
of a beautiful boy,
I see you.

The real you.

The you who flips a coin,
hoping to understand
how fate works:
this choice or that choice,
ultimately leaving you
no choice at all.

The you who smiles
and tries to be happy
because that’s what
people want
you to be.

The you who plays
“it will be okay”
on repeat
all day, every day,
to try and convince
yourself
that it will be.

I see you.

Because in you,
I see me.

RSVP

“Are you going back?” he asks me.

For a second, I’m not sure what he means.
“Back where? Home?”

“Yeah. I mean, did you come here
thinking maybe you just wouldn’t go back?”

I told the limo driver
to pick me up
tomorrow at eight a.m.

“I’m going back. I have to.”

“I bet others would say screw it,
and just not go back.”

I shrug. “Yeah. Maybe.”

And that’s all he says.

Wait.
Was that an invitation?

look around

This time,
Agate Beach
is our destination.

“Come on,” I say,
running down the path
toward the sand,
wanting him
to run after me.

And in that moment
I close my eyes

and I wish.

I wish
for the breeze to
blow away
our troubles.

I wish
for the sun to
dry out
our sorrow.

I wish
for the friendship
to fill up
our hearts.

I open my eyes.
Right now I see only good.

I want him to see it too.

release me

The kite flutters
in the wind,
and as Cade
lets the string out,
it soars
higher
and higher.

It’s so calming,
watching the kite
fly in the sky.

And in this calmness
he opens up a little.

He’s a senior
at Wilson High School
in Portland.
Wanted to live here with his dad,
but his mom wouldn’t let him.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” I say.
“That we don’t get a say.
That it doesn’t matter what we want.”

The kite dips,
and as it does,
Cade releases some string,
does a few quick maneuvers
to save it from crashing
to the ground.

It flutters again,
and soon the kite
is dancing with the sun,
back where it belongs.

“Yeah,” he says. “It should matter.”

holding the line

“Are you going back?” I ask him.

Because he asked me.
And maybe
that’s what’s on his mind.

Maybe he’s here,
and he doesn’t want
to go back there.

The kite dips again.

“I don’t know.”

This time he doesn’t save it.
He lets the kite fall.

please try

After an hour
the wind dies down,
so the kite-flying
part of our day is over.

I pull out my phone
and check the clock.
My stomach’s telling me
it’s time to eat something.

I quickly reply to a text
from Madison,
then I’m back
to wondering
what comes next
with Cade.

“Heads, sushi,” I say.
“Tails, Chinese.”

“Well, it better be tails
because I don’t do sushi.”

“You don’t do sushi?
Christ, kill me now!”

I pick up a small stick,
pretend to stab it
into my chest
and drop to the sand
on my back.

I lie there with my eyes closed.

Warm breath on my neck.
Soft shiver down my spine.
Sweet words whispered in my ear.

“But with you, I might try anything.”

worth a shot

I turn,
his face right there.

Warm, brown eyes.
Dimple in his cheek.
Red lips, chapped from the wind.

God, he is adorable.

I want to kiss him.
But I don’t.

Because more than that,
I want to know.
No, I need to know.
Is he okay?

I whisper back,
“Then please tell me what’s going on with you.”

soaking wet

He’s up and
out of there so fast,
you’d think my words
were a cold, wet

ocean

wave.

“Cade, wait!”

I run after him,
the warm sand
gripping my feet
with each step
as if it were trying to tell me
to go slowly,
carefully.

He turns.

“You gave me your word.”

“I’m sorry.
I’m just …
I’m worried about you.
I want to help you.”

“You can’t help me!
No one can help.
Don’t you get it?
There’s nothing anyone can do.
Nothing!”

Then he’s walking away again.

And I follow.

Because I know that feeling—
that goddamn,
son-of-a-bitch,
asshole of a feeling—
better than anyone.