I’ll Become the Sea Read online

  “I play guitar.” He reached for another hunk of her scone. “You might know a few of the songs my band covers if you like that kind of music.”

  “You have a band?”

  “You could call it that. It’s really just a couple of guys who play together for fun, but we do some shows around the area sometimes. You should come hear us play.”

  “That would be nice.” She looked out the window and saw the growing speed of the snow. “We’d better get going, though.”

  He glanced outside while she took a last sip of her coffee. “Guess you’re right.”

  She felt him watching her. She knew she should rise and start putting on her coat, but she couldn’t seem to talk herself into it. “Too bad we don’t have more time.”

  “Yeah. It is too bad.” He stayed in his seat.

  She reached for her gloves, rising, trying to hide her blush behind the business of dressing and leaving. She finished before he did and stood, hot in the steam of the coffee shop, left with nothing to do but watch him fasten the buttons on his coat. His careful grace in this mindless act stoked something inside her. She headed for the door.

  He rose to follow her. Outside, thick flakes of snow whipped into their faces. David’s truck was already draped in white.

  She turned to say goodbye. The motion tipped her balance and she slipped, her boot losing contact with a slick track of ice hidden under the snow. David reached out by reflex to steady her. She held his arm for a moment, then backed away.

  “I’d love to see one of your shows sometime.”

  “Great.”

  His truck was a few rows away, but he didn’t move. She stood beside him on the sidewalk, waiting for him to say goodbye.

  “Well. I guess I’ll be seeing you then. You’re walking home? I can give you a ride.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. It’s just a few blocks.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind.”

  “It’s okay.” She patted the small grocery bag at her side. “I don’t have much to carry, and it’s really only a few blocks. Thanks, though.”

  “Okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

  He smiled and turned toward his car.

  “David?”

  “Yes?”

  “How will I know when you’re playing?”

  “I’ll call you. If that’s okay. I have your number from Raymond’s referral.”

  “Right. Okay. I’ll talk to you soon then.”

  “Okay.”

  She gave him a salute and headed toward the street. To keep herself from looking back, she counted the steps to the sidewalk.

  Chapter Seven

  The walk home was harrowing in the snow, and she told herself she deserved it. Innocent as it was, she shouldn’t have been spending time with a man she was clearly attracted to.

  There was no use denying it. David was gorgeous. Most likely he was bored, restless from the coming storm and glad for a diversion. Nothing more than that. Even so, she could still feel his hand on her arm in the parking lot, the way he had held her when she’d nearly fallen on the ice.

  She thought of Ben, wondering what he was doing this afternoon. It was still early in California, probably sunny and seventy-five degrees. She sighed. Perhaps if she talked to him, made some kind of connection, she could get her head on straight.

  Nudging open the door, grocery bag in hand, she saw the light on her answering machine blinking. She lowered the bags and pressed play.

  “Janie, it’s me.”

  She sat down at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  “Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but somebody has to talk some sense into you. You have to decide. It’s not like it’s going to affect you one way or the other. You have to stop thinking about yourself.”

  Jane closed her eyes.

  “I don’t like to bring this up, but you are the one…Well, you know how I feel about that. I think you owe him this. You owe it to me.” Her voice started to break. “I’m all alone, Jane. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t get out. I just…I’ll have to do something. Oh, hell. Forget I said that. Just call me.”

  She heard the beep and sat there for a few moments, staring at the floor. She picked up the phone and dialed. Ben answered on the fifth ring.

  “Hey, Jane.”

  She smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. You sound busy.”

  “Yeah, I’m buried here. There’s already fifty hours of footage to go through. Just trying to organize some of it before we get to the family interviews.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Slow.”

  “You want to talk later?”

  He hesitated. “I would, but I have plans later. I’m grabbing a drink with Ana, then a movie if it’s not too late.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I need a break, Jane. I’m working fourteen hour days here.”

  “I didn’t say anything. I’m glad you’re going out.” She did her best to sound convincing. “It’s just…I wanted to talk to you. I miss you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little wired. It’s snowing here. Can you believe it? And my mother just called.”

  “Oh?”

  Jane heard the soft clack of keys on the keyboard. She breathed out once, stood up, walked to the window to watch the snow. She was silent for a minute, listening to him trying to type without being heard.

  “Why don’t you call me tomorrow? When you’re not so busy.”

  He stopped. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “All right. It’ll have to be late. I’m scouting locations in the morning with Ana, and then back in edit the rest of the day.”

  “You’re scouting locations with Ana.”

  She almost heard him bristle across the line, three thousand miles away.

  “Yes. She’s my assistant. She helps me scout locations.”

  She took a deep breath. This conversation was both ancient and exhausting. No one told Ben what to do with his time. It was something she’d always respected about him. Anyway, he was right; Ana was his coworker. He had every right to spend time with her.

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I’m just feeling down. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. Good luck with everything. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Jane…”

  “Goodbye, Ben. Have fun tonight.”

  She held the phone for a moment, then hung up.

  * * *

  She would think about it later. About her mother, about Ben. Right now, all she wanted to do was clear her head.

  She went to the kitchen and put away the groceries. She rummaged through her cabinets for flour, sugar, chocolate chips, following an old recipe from memory. She wrapped herself in blankets on the sofa, putting on the TV, balancing a plate of hot cookies and a cup of milk on her lap. She was licking crumbs off her arm when the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. Jane? This is David.”

  “David?”

  “Yes, uh, David Casey.”

  “Oh, yes. I know who. I’m just…surprised to hear from you.” She sat up from the couch, quickly, as if he could see her. With her free hand, she smoothed down her hair.

  “I hope…um…I’m not disturbing you.” His low voice thrummed through her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “No, no. Not at all. How are you? The snow’s terrible, isn’t it?” She turned to push aside the curtain beside the couch. “I can barely see out the window.”

  “Yeah, it’s bad. I think we’ll have a snow day tomorrow.”

  “Really?” She couldn’t contain the glee in her voice.

  “What? You won’t miss the chance to educate a young mind?”

  “Are you kidding me? I have seven seasons of Buffy to watch and a bowl full of cookie do
ugh in the fridge. Please. I hope it snows all week.”

  She cradled the phone against her shoulder, leaning back again into the cushions and pulling the blankets up around her middle. It was easier, talking to him on the phone. Easier when he wasn’t sitting across a table from her. She let herself relax.

  “Did you say something about cookies?”

  “I have a weakness. Chocolate chip.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “Didn’t you just go to the grocery store?”

  “Frozen pizza, it turns out, is not very sustaining.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Well…do you want to come over? I have plenty.” God, what was she doing?

  “Come over? To your house. For homemade cookies.”

  She dug her fingernails into her palm. “Yes.”

  “Um, yes. Okay. Maybe I will come by.”

  A mental image arose of sitting beside David on the couch in her pajamas, watching her favorite show. She thought of how he smelled when he helped steady her in the parking lot. She cleared her throat. “Actually, I have an idea.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Want to meet at the beach? Watch the snow come down for a while? I’ll bring the cookies. You bring some hot tea?”

  “Hmm…” She heard the smile in his voice. “Okay. Where?”

  “Why don’t you meet me at the end of my block? Tenth Avenue.”

  “Tenth Avenue. Great. I’ll see you there in, let’s say thirty minutes. Dress warm.”

  * * *

  Jane tried not to notice what she was wearing, not to check herself in the mirror before she left. She baked a quick batch of cookies so they would be warm when she got there, packing them in aluminum foil. Tugging on some long johns under her jeans, she pulled on her boots, her warmest sweater, her black coat, her green wool hat and scarf. At the door, she slipped on her gloves and ran out into snow that was pouring down from the sky.

  The street was empty and quiet. Lit-up houses shrouded in white glowed brightly in the dusk. She moved toward the ocean, feeling its pull. The air was cold. Snowflakes brushed against her face. Her boots made prints on the sidewalk, leaving a trail back to her apartment that would soon be covered up.

  His truck was parked by the boardwalk. He sat on a bench facing the ocean. In the storm the waves crashed high, spraying foam far above the sand. Snow fell and disappeared, melting into and joining the rolling water. She climbed the stairs and moved to the bench, sitting down beside David. He was leaning back, his legs stretched out, dusted with snow. His arm reached over the back of the bench behind her. He turned to her and smiled.

  “What took you so long?”

  She tried not to feel the rolling tug in her belly, tried to still the sudden shiver that went through her.

  “Had to make you fresh cookies, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, my God. You’re kidding me.”

  She handed him the foil package. “Feel that? Still hot.”

  He sat up, cradling the cookies, the backs of his gloved fingers brushing against hers. “Wow, Jane.”

  She cast her eyes down, pulled her hand away. She looked at his legs instead, those long legs in their battered jeans, the scuffed boots against the wood planks of the boardwalk. He was dressed for warmth, covered from head to toe in down and wool, and yet she felt the presence of his body beside her as clearly as if he were wearing nothing. She wondered what he would feel like, if she could just rest her hand, there, on his thigh. Appalled, she turned and faced the water, taking a deep breath.

  “Have you been waiting a while?”

  “A few minutes.” He opened the package of cookies, burying his face in the rich chocolate steam. “These look amazing.”

  He took a bite. The delight in his face flooded her with an unsettling pleasure.

  To distract herself, she looked down the empty, silent boardwalk. “Did you grow up here?”

  “No, I grew up in New York, in the suburbs. Not far from the city.”

  “What brought you to Asbury Park?”

  “Well, a long road, actually. I went to Teachers College and taught in the Bronx for a few years. Then I went back for a degree in nonprofit management and looked for a place near the city that didn’t have a program like what I had in mind. I used to come to the shore a lot when I was in school. I loved it here. Especially Asbury Park. All this history.” David gestured out toward the water. “And all this beauty. And then five blocks away you have ten year olds who’ve never seen the ocean.”

  “I remember someone telling me that before I moved here. I didn’t believe them.”

  “It’s amazing what you won’t believe until you see it.”

  “Yeah.”

  He pulled an aluminum flask of tea from beside him and handed it to her. “I forgot mugs.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll just slug it.”

  “I like you better every day.”

  She unscrewed the cap on the tea, feeling the hot mist rise up. It smelled like licorice. She reached for a cookie.

  “What about you?” he asked. “You’re not from here originally, are you?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  He smiled. “You have that dangerous outsider look.”

  “I didn’t know I was so obvious. I’m from Maryland. The Eastern Shore.”

  “Did you go to school up here?”

  “I went to Smith, and then to grad school in New York. I worked in the city for a while, like you.”

  “Is that where you met Ben?”

  “Yeah, he was in film school at NYU.”

  He nodded. “Do you like teaching?”

  It was a simple question. She should be able to offer a simple answer. “Yes and no.”

  He seemed to be waiting for her to say more, but she was silent, looking out at the gray waves. He didn’t interrupt her. They sat for some moments while the snow fell around them. She began to shiver under the layer of white along her body.

  “Are you cold?”

  His arm was behind her, along the back of the bench. He brought his hand down to her shoulder, checking her. She felt the energy of his body whistle into hers.

  Immediately, she busied herself with the bottle of tea, taking a tentative sip. “No. I’m okay. Tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?”

  “I have a younger sister. She’s got a baby now. Alex. He’s one. Already walking. My mom is crazy for him. She keeps telling me I need to get going and give her more grandkids.”

  “Do you want kids?” She surprised herself, asking that question.

  “Of course. Who doesn’t want kids? Have to meet their mother first, though.”

  Jane tried to smile.

  “Don’t you want children?” he asked.

  She wiped at some chocolate on her glove. “Yeah I want kids. Definitely. Ben’s not that into it, though. I mean, he says he does eventually, but I think it’s going to be a while.”

  “Oh. Well.” He didn’t seem to know what to say. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

  She looked up at him. His eyes on hers were kind. She couldn’t hold his gaze and looked away.

  “I guess I am getting cold now.”

  “Oh. Okay, let’s go. Here, I’ll give you a ride back.”

  “No, no, that’s all right, I’m just a few blocks away.”

  “It’s no problem. You look frozen. You can warm up a bit in the truck on the way.”

  They climbed into the car and sat for a moment while David blasted the heat. She leaned back, breathing in the scent of wood and, possibly, fast food.

  “Oh, that feels good. I didn’t realize how chilled I was.”

  “That’ll tend to happen when you sit on a bench in a snowstorm.”

  “I suppose so.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, relaxing into the seat. She wanted him to touch her, to reach out and take her face in his hands.

  It was foolish. She should not be so drawn to him. And being drawn, she should not be spending an evening with
him. She was setting herself up. He wouldn’t return her attraction, and even if he did, she couldn’t act on it. She opened her eyes and found him watching her.

  “Um, I’m just down the street a few blocks.”

  He gave her a quick smile and turned the car around, driving carefully to her door. When the truck slowed, she turned to face him.

  “Thank you, David. It was nice to get outside for a bit. Thanks for the tea.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for the cookies. They were…” He paused, looking at her. “They were delicious.”

  She reached over and squeezed his hand, then turned and grabbed the door handle.

  “Call me about your next show.” She stepped down and stood facing him with her hand on the door.

  “It’s in April. I’ll give you a flyer when you come in with Raymond.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks again.”

  Shutting the door, she spun around and ran up the stairs to her apartment. She hoped he didn’t notice her slipping on the stairs. She had to get inside, and quickly. God help her, if she didn’t leave right away she would have invited him in.

  Chapter Eight

  Tanya walked into the classroom late. She wore a pink satin spaghetti-strap gown with matching shawl. Her white high-heeled sandals clicked against the tiles. It was 8:25 in the morning. Picture day.

  Jane started with an exercise in active listening. “I need two volunteers.”

  Thirty-two hands shot up.

  “Tanya. And Lisa.”

  The girls went to opposite blackboards. Jane read them a paragraph describing an island with a house and trees on a lake. She instructed them to draw the scene as accurately as possible, following her description.

  Tanya drew all of the details, but drew them backward, confusing left and right. Lisa sketched about half of the scene, leaving out the flag on the house, the boat on the water, and other small details she’d been too busy mugging at the class to hear.

  While Tanya and Lisa worked at the blackboard, the students in their seats drew the picture as well. Jane walked the rows as she read, glancing at their work. She sighed.

  She tried another approach. She asked them to jot down key words in the instructions as she read them and repeated every sentence three times, emphasizing the important details. They began writing as soon as she started speaking each sentence, then got lost in the middle and stopped, slamming their pencils down. Half the class turned their papers over and quit.