Moonstone (3 page)

Kelsey knew she had to move out before Hannah’s suicide watch ended. Forty-eight hours wasn’t long in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it was long enough for the alcohol and most of the medication to wear off, but it wasn’t long enough to clear away the thoughts that had pushed Hannah to swallow the half bottle of pills with a whiskey chaser.

“Forty-eight hours.” Kelsey said the words aloud and only then moved to grab the handrail leading down to the cabin. She had enough time to pack the few belongings she’d moved into the houseboat with seven months ago.

Moving hadn’t been on the list of things to do that day and she didn’t have boxes. She filled plastic garbage bags with her clothes, emptying the dresser all too quickly, and then went to clear out the bathroom. The toothpaste and shampoo she left, knowing Hannah had none otherwise. She didn’t touch anything in the kitchen, but Hannah hadn’t eaten anything solid in a week.

Kelsey saved the closet for last. Most everything in the narrow closet belonged to Hannah. She picked through the clothes until she found her Stanford sweatshirt. She pulled this on over her T-shirt and then spotted a favorite black tank top that Hannah had swiped months ago. The top was under the extra bedding and smelled vaguely of pot. A plastic baggie full of marijuana leaves had been hidden behind the folded blankets long enough for Hannah to probably have forgotten she’d stashed it there. Kelsey briefly considered tossing the contents overboard along with the pills on the nightstand. Instead, she set the plastic baggie on Hannah’s pillow. She grabbed the two medicine vials that Hannah had half emptied. Valium and Percocet. There were enough pills remaining to do damage if she tried again—how much damage depended on whether she had access to her favorite whiskey as well. Kelsey jammed the vials into the pocket of her sweatshirt and then pulled the zipper. The evidence disappeared inside.

Maybe if Hannah got high as soon as she was released, she wouldn’t think about missing the pills. Maybe not right away. Kelsey couldn’t hope for anything more. Hope had a line as long as a kite string but she’d reached the end of it. The rescue mission had finally come to its unsuccessful end.

Kelsey dialed her mom’s number. She waited for the sound of the answering machine’s beep, wondering what to say. She decided on the truth or at least part of it. She needed a few weeks home. One month at most.

Kelsey made the drive to her mom’s by rote. Six hours slipped by and she nearly missed the exit to Raceda. Heavy fog choked the streetlights and familiar landmarks passed in a blur of hazy yellow. She wasn’t surprised when she ran a red light, but she slowed down after that. When she reached Ackland Street, she hit the brakes but didn’t turn, stopping in the middle of the intersection. A blue and white light suddenly flashed behind her and she reluctantly pulled over. A cop was the last thing she wanted to face. She didn’t want to explain that Ackland was the street she’d grown up on but she couldn’t bring herself to turn down it now. Before she’d turned off the engine, the cop sped past her. He was after someone else.

Kelsey stared at the intersection in her rearview mirror. If she continued on, she’d circle back to the highway. She could be in Portland by daybreak. She had an ex-girlfriend in Portland, but chances weren’t good that Abby wanted to see her now. And she couldn’t waste money on a hotel room if Abby turned her down. Her mom would give her a hug and then she could fall asleep on the old twin mattress. There’d be questions, of course. She wasn’t certain the hug was worth the questions.

She hadn’t turned the radio on for the drive; the noise of the highway had been enough distraction. The sound of her idling Audi engine was little company now. She made a U-turn and headed back to Ackland Street. The neighborhood glowed under the bright streetlights. Nate’s motorcycle was parked in her mom’s driveway. When she saw it, she nearly decided on Portland. She didn’t want to hear her brother’s tirade about Hannah. Of course he’d been right all along.

Her cell phone beeped and she saw her mom’s name flash on the screen.
Are you coming home tonight?
It was four a.m. Reality was, she had nowhere else to go. Once she’d made it out of Raceda, she’d promised herself she’d never move back. That had always been the plan. But now she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.

* * *

Nate cut the engine and pulled off his helmet. He tossed the helmet to Kelsey and then leaned the motorcycle onto the kickstand.

“Let’s go for a ride,” Nate said.

Kelsey shook her head. “You only have one helmet.”

Nate shrugged. “Only one of us needs to be smart.” His T-shirt had an oil stain that popped into view when he unzipped the leather jacket halfway down his chest. Leather gave him broad shoulders that he really didn’t have and turned his stomach pudge into a thickness that was altogether tough. It didn’t matter that he had pimples on his back or that he smelled like a washcloth someone had drenched with sweat and then tossed in the laundry still wet, balled up underneath a pair of dirty socks. His thick caterpillar eyebrows pulled together as he scowled. “Get on before I change my mind.” Freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. The freckles seemed out of place on a nineteen-year-old. They belonged to a ten-year-old boy still hoping for a fish down at the docks.

“You stink,” Kelsey said, tossing the helmet back. “Besides, I’m still mad at you for breaking up with Sadie.”

“That was a week ago.”

Kelsey slung her backpack over one shoulder. “I have homework.” Bus number seven pulled up to the curb. Most seniors didn’t ride the bus. If they didn’t have their own car, they shared a ride with someone who did. But she wasn’t the only senior who took the bus. Kelsey watched Joy climb onto the bus. Joy’s stop was only a few blocks from hers, but in the past three years of bus rides, they’d never once sat together and never talked. Yesterday at the pool was the first time they’d said more than a few words to each other and now Kelsey couldn’t get Joy off her mind. She wanted to tell someone, but she couldn’t. Not even Nate. “Why are you here anyway?”

He was staring at the bus line and pointed to a girl with platinum blond locks down to the middle of her back. She turned and looked right at them. “That’s Sadie’s little sister, isn’t it? They could be twins.”

“Except Sadie’s a senior and Hannah’s a sophomore. That makes her fifteen, maybe sixteen. Don’t even think about it.” Kelsey hadn’t wanted Nate to date Sadie in the first place, but since they’d broken up, she was siding with Sadie. They’d been friends since freshman year.

“I wouldn’t date Sadie’s little sister. I was only saying they look alike.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I hate this town. I’m always running into someone I know.”

“You could leave. You could be a bum somewhere else as easy as in Raceda.”

Nate stuck up his middle finger but didn’t argue. “Are you coming or not?”

Kelsey glanced back at the bus again. She could see Joy at the back of the bus. The windows were open and Joy’s hand was sticking out like she was catching raindrops only it wasn’t raining. Her skin was golden brown and she stood out among all the pale kids who jostled to get a seat.

Joy’s father was Dr. Henderson—the eye doctor in town. When she was a kid, Kelsey’s mom had taken her along on eye appointments to help pick out new glasses. Kelsey had loved the long stories Dr. Henderson would tell to keep her occupied while he flipped switches and gadgets and then peered into her mother’s eyes. She’d sit at the foot of the chair, listening to the click of the lenses. His hands worked the buttons on the machine while the toe of his brown leather shoes tapped out a beat to a song he’d sometimes hum aloud. Dark brown pants were paired with the brown shoes, a tan shirt and a brown tie. His skin was only a shade lighter than the tie and when he laughed his Santa Claus belly made the tie dance. He seemed to love to laugh. Joy’s father looked nothing like her mother—pale, blond and willowy thin. She wore bright headscarves, big hats and sunglasses year round as if she planned on the fog layer breaking at any moment. Kelsey had seen them together in the grocery store, Dr. Henderson in his brown suit and Mrs. Henderson with a wide-brimmed yellow sunhat and a red sundress, holding hands and smiling at each other. She’d never seen her parents hold hands. Ever. People said the Hendersons were an odd match, but Kelsey knew it was only because Dr. Henderson was black and Mrs. Henderson wasn’t. As far as couples went, she didn’t know of two people who looked happier together.

Joy stood out more because of how she acted than anything about her parents or the color of her skin. Everyone else was moving from seat to seat and yelling, tossing balls and throwing backpacks, but she was ignoring all of it, looking up at the clouds. She seemed like she was light years away from the school bus. Light years away from Raceda High. Kelsey thought of the orange juice again and couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Who are you looking at?” Nate asked.

“No one.”

“Let me guess. Your boyfriend rides the bus?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” He was wrong of course, but perceptive if nothing else. That was Nate.

“I can tell when you’re hiding something,” he insisted. He scanned the bus windows. “What’s he look like? I can’t believe your boyfriend rides the bus—he’s gotta be a complete nerd. Should I be looking for pocket protectors?” Nate laughed. “How old is he? If he’s riding the bus, he probably doesn’t even have a permit. Fifteen?” Nate leaned back on his seat and grinned. “Now I get it. That’s why you still want to take the bus home, isn’t it?”

“There’s no boyfriend, jackass.” There was so much Kelsey could add. But she didn’t. Nate was still chuckling. “Shut up.”

“It’s not like I care anyway,” Nate said. “So you have a boyfriend who rides the bus.”

“There’s no boyfriend,” Kelsey said. Maybe the tone was a little harsh. The volume was definitely louder than she’d planned.

Nate held up his hands. “Fine. I get it.” After a minute he added, “Maybe you need one. You do need to get out more. All you do is swim and study.” He pointed to a kid in a cowboy hat pushing past another kid. “How about him?”

Kelsey shook her head. “He’s an asshole.”

Nate shrugged. “You should go to the parties at Mad River. That’s where I used to hang out every weekend. People hook up there all the time.”

“You’re giving me advice on where to go for a hookup?” Kelsey wanted to say that she’d already been to plenty of bonfires at Mad River. Mad River was where she’d kissed Andrew O’Reilly. But that wasn’t the important part. It was a terrible kiss. His lips were wet and pressed too hard. She’d pushed away, wiped off the feel of his tongue and wished that she hadn’t been too buzzed to drive. He didn’t try to kiss her again. But the bad kiss wasn’t the problem. The problem was that as soon as it had happened, she’d realized something. It wasn’t about Andrew at all. She wanted to kiss a girl. And now it was hard to think of anything else.

“All I’m saying is you should enjoy this time. It’s your last year of high school. You’re supposed to be out partying every night.” Nate shook his head. “There’s more to life than following the rules.”

“Yeah, I follow the rules. And I don’t waste all my time getting high either.” Kelsey felt her jaw muscles tighten.

“I’m not talking about getting high. I’m talking about living life.” He lit a cigarette and leaned back on the seat. He took a drag and puffed for emphasis.

“Look, I know there’s always a catch. Why are you offering me a ride?”

He flicked the ash off his cigarette. “I need gas money.”

“You need a job.”

“You sound like Mom. I know you have ten bucks on you.”

“I’m saving it for college.”

“Ten bucks?” Nate laughed. “Good luck. Anyway, Mom showed me the offer letter. Nice scholarship.”

“That scholarship is all Mom talks about lately,” Kelsey said.

“Better than her worrying about Dad’s divorce lawyer.”

Kelsey eyed Nate. “He got a lawyer?”

“They’re finally making it official. I don’t think she was going to say anything to us about it,” Nate said. “I saw the letter from his lawyer.”

It’d been five years since their dad had moved to LA. He’d gone to live with his girlfriend. For some reason, no one was surprised. But there’d been no formal divorce. Kelsey guessed the girlfriend finally wanted to get married. “Screw Dad.”

Nate nodded.

The bus pulled away from the curb and Kelsey couldn’t help but watch it leave. Joy had pulled her hand back inside and the way the light hit the windows, Kelsey couldn’t make out her face. Nate was watching her so she shoved the helmet on and then popped open the visor. The cheek pads were wet with Nate’s sweat and smelled of stale cigarettes.

The bus turned at the intersection and then disappeared from view.

“Come on, you, me, the open road…and some gas money.” Nate revved the engine and pushed off the kickstand. “Let’s blow this town.”

Kelsey climbed on behind him. “When I finally leave this place, Nate, I’m not coming back.”

Samuel Henderson had often said that no baby deserved a silver spoon. And mostly Joy agreed. She unplugged the coffee machine and then plugged it in a moment later, stabbing the red button with her finger. Unfortunately she had inherited something she couldn’t ignore as easily as a spoon or a stock portfolio. The coffeemaker choked and sputtered.

“Well, it’s official,” Chloe announced. “No coffee.”

“Something always goes wrong on Mondays,” Helen said.

Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Let’s hope it’s only the coffee.”

Joy checked her watch. Dr. Sam Henderson’s full appointment book, Chloe, the college student with no training as an optometrist’s assistant, and Helen, the receptionist with anxiety attacks—all were depending on the new Dr. Henderson of Moonstone Optometry, and she couldn’t manage to brew a pot of coffee. “Think it’s too late to make a run to Starbucks?”

Denise leaned around the corner and grimaced at the trio clustered about the coffeemaker. “No coffee?”

“Not today,” Helen said.

“Give it a slap right on the lid, and then threaten to leave it out on the curb if it won’t earn its keep.” Denise was an old-school butch with a buzz cut and a braided tail. She even had a rainbow leash on her sunglasses. She slipped out of view as she returned to the lounge. Crowded with tiers of eyeglasses and overstuffed loveseats, the lounge had a perfect view of the bay on rare fogless days. Denise had ruled the space for as long as Joy could remember. Joy had watched her fit everyone from the town mayor to Mr. Grady, the mortician, with stylish frames. No matter who it was, she had customers smiling into her mirrors by the end of their visit. She’d been Sam Henderson’s optician and right hand for years. Joy doubted she liked the idea of a new boss.