The only sound for a few seconds was water beating against the tub floor. "Well, if not, that's probably something I should know. It's something I want."
"Is it, or is it just what you think you should want?"
"This isn't the first time I've thought about this," she said. "Is it so hard to believe I want to find a good man? To take care of him, and let him take care of me? When it happens doesn't matter, does it?" She opened the shower curtain and stuck just her head out for a kiss. Automatically, I gave it to her. "Do you know what it'd mean to me to call you my husband? Can't you just picture it-everyone in our lives watching me marry the most handsome, wonderful man I've ever known?"
Stripped down and soaking wet, Tiffany looked up at me. It was the second time she'd said she felt taken care of, and not only that, but she thought I was a good man. A wonderful man. I hadn't realized how much it would affect me to hear her say that. A strange feeling rose in my chest. "You really feel taken care of?" I asked.
"Of course."
"By me?"
She laughed. "I know our little place isn't much, and my dad still helps with the rent, but it's the first thing that's ever felt like . . . mine. And I wouldn't have it without you."
When was the last time I'd done anything good or right for anyone? It had to have been Madison, those nights I'd taken her to the front lawn to distract her from our parents' blow-out fights. Even when my aunt took me in at fifteen, I couldn't be the support system she'd needed after losing her niece, and I'd always felt bad about that. But here I was, adding to Tiffany's life instead of detracting.
"Besides," Tiffany said before closing the curtain, "money isn't the only way to take care of a person."
I knew that, but I hadn't thought she would. The night of Madison's death, I'd learned valuable lessons about the importance of family. Not only had I lost my sister, the person I'd loved most in the world, but I'd been betrayed by my parents, too. I might've expected it from my dad, but when the officers had asked my mom if I was the one who'd hurt my sister and she'd nodded, I knew I'd never get over that. A good family shouldn't be taken for granted, and I knew that because I didn't have one.
Except maybe I did.
17
Manning
Gary sat next to me on the bed of his truck, his legs swinging. He pointed to the ocean and shook his head. "Look at that. You don't take the first inside wave as a set approaches. You just don't."
The guy we were meeting hadn't shown yet, so we'd backed into a small alley by the pier between beachfront condos and shops. It was a three-minute loading zone, and we'd be unloading-just as soon as the guy got here. In the meantime, Sublime's 40oz To Freedom played on the car stereo while we watched the ocean.
I followed a surfer down the line with my eyes until he jumped off his board. My gaze kept going and landed on Lake. She and her friends spilled out of a surf shop onto the sidewalk, giggling. She wore a purple scrap of fabric around her torso like an oversized bandana. Two bathing suit straps tied around her neck. She took a pair of sunglasses out of a shopping bag and modeled them for her friends. When she took them off, her hair caught on the arms, but the strands were such fine, spun gold that they just fell back into place.
"Waves are shit, but I'd still get out there if I could," Gary said, oblivious to my wandering thoughts.
I couldn't remember all her friends' names, just Val, the one with the skateboard. The other two, Tiffany called Dumb and Dumber. To me they looked the same, except that one of them was always gawking at me. Tiffany said it was because she was scared.
Val dropped her skateboard on the sidewalk and pushed off, passing Gary and me in a slow, controlled ride down the sidewalk. Lake and the other two climbed on their bikes. Out of nowhere, a toddler ran up from the beach and crossed their paths. The two girls swerved, but the boy tripped and fell anyway. Lake slammed on her brakes and dropped her bike to go to him just as his parents swooped him up and took him away.
She got back on and started to pedal, but her chain had popped off and her foot slipped. I went to get up as she stumbled forward, then looked up, right at me, her blue eyes hitting me hard.
As seconds passed, something loosened in my chest. Four weeks had passed since I'd picked her up from the prom. I'd seen her at family dinners, but even then she was rushing in from studying or volunteering or whatever else, or she was hurrying off somewhere.
"Hey, Lake," Gary said when he noticed her. "What're you doing here?"