Mosaic (12 page)

My favorite had been the spring break I’d spent with Nana in Navarre helping with “Share the Beach” when I was only a sophomore.

Baby turtles hatch from their eggs in the early morning light, and they’re all alone, left to race into the ocean to survive. The only problem is all the seagulls, pelicans, and other birds hanging out, waiting to gobble them up as soon as their tiny dark brown bodies appear on the sugar-white sands from South County through the panhandle of Florida.

“Share the Beach” volunteers all lined the small ditch we’d dug from the nest to the Gulf. All they had to do was scamper to survival, and all we had to do was not touch them or interfere any more than we’d already done.

“Hey,” Julian’s voice was low and soft by my ear, pulling me back from the memory. “You ready to jet?”

I blinked up at his crystal blue eyes—almost the same color as those waters we all loved—then I glanced around the table. Nana, Mom, and Dad were splitting a bottle of wine, and they seemed to be pretty embroiled in some new political discussion.

“Julian and I were going to walk down by the surf,” I interjected.

They all took a breath and looked up at us. Dad was the first one to speak.

“I think that’s a great idea! We should all go.” He rose and dropped his napkin on the table. I bit the side of my mouth and glanced at Julian.

He only shrugged. “It’s a family walk, then!”

I caught his hand knowing very well that was not what he had in mind. Outside in the cool air on the crisp white sand and gorgeous turquoise waters, it was hard to think that anything could go wrong here. Mom, Dad, and Nana walked ahead still talking about whatever new problem needed to be solved.

Julian and I hung back, keeping close enough to the shore that our feet were wet and he decided to cuff the bottom of his jeans. The wind pushed his dark hair around his face, but it just sent mine flying in all directions.

“I feel like all we do is talk about me and my change of plans these days. Tell me about Loyola. What’s happening with your cool project?”

Our fingers were laced, and with my other hand, I caught my curls in a knot by my neck. “It really is cool, even though all we’ve done is the planning part. Next semester is when we’ll set up our interviews, do some ‘man on the street’ stuff, really get out there.”

He smiled. “Algiers sounds like a neat place to research.”

“Just like everywhere else in the city, it’s got some really rough spots.”

“Keep out of those when you’re ‘on the street.’”

I laughed and nodded. “Don’t worry.”

“So you just hang out with Rachel and Brad all the time? Not making any new friends?”

Pressing my lips together I looked up at the blue sky with faint white clouds drifting past. “Not really, I guess. I mean, I have friends in class, but I’m just so slammed. Whenever I do go out, it’s usually with those guys.”

“It’s about the same at SCAD, although a group of art students usually goes out along The Strand every weekend. Sometimes I tag along.”

“What’s The Strand?”

“Bars, karaoke, standard college stuff.”

I stepped closer and hugged his waist. His hand went on my shoulder. “Sounds fun.”

“It’d be more fun if you were with me.”

Slowing down, I pulled him to sitting beside me. For a few moments, we only watched the waves rolling in. Seashells were everywhere, but most of them were broken. Still, Julian found a white one that was intact and even had a little hole at the base.

“I can make a necklace with this.” He held it out to me, and I took it. “Just need some dental floss.”

Wrinkling my nose, I laughed. “Waxed or unwaxed?”

“Waxed of course.”

He took it back, then glanced up at me once more. “You never see anybody else you know on campus?”

I knew who he was talking about, but I decided to play dumb for a little bit. I scooted around so I was facing him with my legs crossed. “Summer’s supposed to be at Tulane, but thankfully I didn’t see her any this entire fall. It’s weird—as close as the two colleges are, it’s really easy to avoid people.”

“Well, now you’ve jinxed it. You’re going to see her everywhere come spring.”

“Noo!” I cried, putting my hands over my face. “What have I done?!”

“So that’s it?” His arm was still propped on his knee, and I reached forward to lace our fingers.

“I did run into Jack one night at Fat Harry’s.” I took a deep breath, remembering how strange that night had been. “Rachel and I were having so much fun, and some drunk guy kept hitting on her, grabbing her waist and stuff. I thought Jack was going to get in a fight with him, but Brad showed up and the guy took off.”

“Smart asshole.” Julian’s jaw tightened, and he dropped his knee. “I don’t really like hearing that, you know.”

“But nothing happened! I mean, we talked a little, but as soon as the drunk guy left, Jack did too.”

“That’s not what I meant. Sounds like you and Rachel were in a dangerous situation. I’m glad Jack was there.”

My head ducked. “Oh—oh my god. I thought you meant… no, I mean, you don’t have to worry about that either. Fat Harry’s is usually fine, and it’s not far from where we live. It was really a random thing.”

Julian reached for my hand and pulled it into his. “I trust you.”

I lifted our laced fingers and kissed the back of his hand. “Good. Now, I bet we’d better catch up with those guys!”

Pulling him up, we took off jogging toward the grownups.

* * *

Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep and Julian was snug in my bed, I felt safe enough to bring up our dinner plans for the next day. We were lying on our sides facing each other, our “proper hello” said, he was tracing a curl down my cheek with his finger.

“So it’s just going to be us and your dad?” I asked. “Will your mom be there?”

“Don’t know.” His long finger traveled across my cheek to my bottom lip. “Dad just asked if I’d please save Friday dinner to have at the house.”

“Wait, are you sure it’s okay if I’m there? He wasn’t planning some father-son bonding time or something was he?”

“I asked before I invited you.” His finger slid down my cupid’s bow, and I caught it between my teeth. “Ow! Didn’t you get enough Thanksgiving dinner?”

“You’re much better than turkey.” I laughed, and he leaned in to kiss me. His lips parted mine and our tongues curled together. Heat flared low in my stomach, but before we traveled too far down that path again, I pulled back. “Hang on.”

“Anna,” he groaned. “I’ve been hanging on all day. Talk after.”

He reached for me again, covering my mouth, but I pulled back. “I’m just really worried about your mom. I mean, it’s a holiday. This separation must be breaking her heart.”

With a heavy exhale he dropped his forehead on my shoulder then rolled onto his back. “I don’t know. I send her an email every now and then.”

I moved closer and rested my cheek on his chest, reaching out to thread our fingers again. “I have a feeling you email your dad more.”

“He tells her everything I say. It’s not like she doesn’t know what I’m doing.”

Lifting my head, I propped it on my hand. “Would you do something for me?” His lips pressed together, and I knew he knew what I was about to say. “If she’s not at dinner tomorrow, please go see her while you’re in town.”

For a few moments he didn’t answer me, and it was my turn to trace my finger down the center of his lips.

His blue eyes cut to mine, and I saw that spark, and I knew what it meant. “Will you let me in your pants again if I say yes?”

My hand covered his mouth. “You’re impossible.”

He took that as the open invitation it was. Flipping me on my back, he caught my wrist and held it above my head before covering my mouth with his. I didn’t care so much about his answer anymore. Still, I felt pretty confident he’d do what I’d asked.

* * *

Since Julian lived with his dad now, I drove myself out to the enormous mansion on Hammond Island for dinner. He’d offered to pick me up, but four trips back and forth seemed crazy-ridiculous. Not to mention Nana and her environmentalists would not approve of all that wasted fuel and pollution.

The only thing I couldn’t figure out was how Mr. Kyser was managing Julian’s presence with his other children. During school, at least, Jack and Will were in New Orleans, but as far as I knew, Lucy still kept her room at the mansion.

When I turned Mom’s old Civic, which was pretty much
my
old Civic now, into the drive, I saw Mr. Kyser’s silver Audi and Julian’s Beemer, but no other cars. I stepped out into the warm night and took a second to admire the gorgeous neon pink, orange, and yellow glow of the sunset over the Gulf.

Hammond Island was perfectly situated less than a mile from the waterfront, but secured by a break of land and several lakes and inlets.

Julian was waiting, and before I’d even touched the bell, he pulled the door open and swept me into his arms. “You’re beautiful.”

My insides lit at his words, but I’d only worn a plain yellow sundress and tan ballet flats. A leopard-print cardigan was tossed over my arm because I wasn’t sure how cool it might get, and my hair was in a loose braid over my shoulder.

“I’m not sure beautiful is accurate, but thanks. You look great!”

Julian was in his usual black jeans, but tonight he’d put on a chambray oxford. It made him look slightly more formal. He kissed my nose and my lips quickly before continuing.

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve already fulfilled my promise from last night.”

My brow lined in confusion. “What promise?”

“I talked to my mom. She’s here.” He kissed me again and then leaned into my ear. His warm breath was a delicious whisper against my neck. “Does this mean I can get in your pants again?”

“Julian!” I laughed, pinching his arm. Truth was, he could have whatever he wanted, and he knew it. “Be serious. It seems like your dad’s trying to do something special here.”

“I want to do something special here.”

His friskiness was working. My whole body was buzzing from his touches and kisses, but I really wanted to see what was going to happen. “Come on.”

We clasped hands and walked through the familiar hallway that opened up to the large kitchen. I remembered the very first night I’d come here on a study date with Lucy. It was the first time I’d had a real conversation with Jack.

Lucy had gone out to the store, and he and I were the only ones in the house. We’d talked about our English lit assignment. It was
Song of Solomon
by Toni Morrison…

“You ready to face these guys?” Julian’s voice blinked me out of the past.

“We’re not
facing
them. We know them. It’s your parents.”

He took my hand and pulled it into the crook of his arm. “I wish it was your parents.”

“It’s true. My parents are a lot less intimidating.” I whispered, not sure why.

“It’s no wonder you’re so sure of yourself. You never had this shit to deal with.”

“I wouldn’t hold myself up as a role model.”

We passed through the big, open living room past natural-wood doors that opened onto a formal dining room I’d never seen. That wasn’t saying anything. I’d only been in four rooms total in this house.

Ms. LaSalle stood at the far end, holding a glass of white wine. Her long, dark hair hung straight down her back, and she was dressed in a sleeveless, navy shift dress. Mr. Kyser stepped away from her when we entered and strode toward us.

“Welcome,” he said with a tiny bit too much enthusiasm. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Julian’s dad might actually be nervous. I almost couldn’t believe it.

Julian met him. “Anna’s been here before, Dad.”

“Of course. When was that?” His father took a sip of his beverage, and I wasn’t sure why he was acting this way. He knew the last time I’d been here.

“At the birthday party.” Julian didn’t seem interested in pursuing it. “And once before… and after.”

His mother’s smooth voice cut through the confusion. “You look very well.”

It wasn’t clear who should answer, so I did. “So do you.”

She did. She was beautiful as always.

Mr. Kyser spoke again in his weird, almost jovial-host mood. “Well, we can’t get started just yet. We’re waiting on a few more guests.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?” Julian took the scotch his father held out. I wanted to protest, but I didn’t. We were at their house, and I was pretty certain nobody would be driving tonight. Julian and I would work out our sleeping arrangements later—in private.

“Your siblings are joining us tonight.” Now I understood why he was acting so strangely, and I decided it was nerves. “I wanted you to come a little early so you wouldn’t feel ambushed. Your mother and I have decided to clear the air.”

The soft sound of a throat clearing in the background led me to believe it might not have gone exactly that way. Mr. Kyser had wanted his family “reunited” for years, but Ms. LaSalle had always fought him on it. I wasn’t sure whose side I was on in whether the truth was the best approach now. I’d only ever wanted Julian to know his dad and how much Mr. Kyser loved him.