CircleintheSandDraftFinalBarnesNoble Read online

  I search through my giant purse for something to do to keep my mind occupied. It’s cluttered, but contains most anything I’d need in a variety of situations. I’m nothing if not prepared. Watching CNN as the other three in the room are doing is not an option. I couldn’t care less about political bullshit. The bracelet I made for Sage’s grandmother, Rose, is still in the plastic bag in the side pocket and catches my eye. She loved it, but it was too big so now I have to adjust it. I should have remembered her wrist was smaller than mine, withered away from age and illness. I wonder if I’ll see Dante the next time I’m there. He seems sweet under all that swag. Plus, he found my sign, which makes me want him as a friend.

  I snatch my book out and begin reading. I leave the bookmark in place because the girls will notice if I don’t read where I left off. I really don’t mind. Pride and Prejudice is my comfort read. After a few minutes a nurse steps through the door.

  “Jacqueline?” she says.

  The four of us eye her and then each other, but no one gets up. I turn my attention back to my book, but I’m soon distracted by a pair of hideous white shoes that have appeared next to my chair.

  “Ms. Kensington?”

  “Yes,” I say, looking up. Her expression is fake happy. Like she’s annoyed she had to seek me out.

  “Jacqueline Kensington?”

  That name is stuffed so far down my subconscious; I rarely recognize it or respond to it. “Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t answer.” I jam the book in my purse and stand. “It’s Jax.”

  After we’re behind closed doors and she’s measuring my height, she says, “Is your name really Jacqueline Onassis Kensington?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” My grandmother’s obsession became my legacy. After my mother got knocked up at seventeen, my controlling grandmother promised to take care of us, pay for my private school, and let us live with her in Ocean Beach.

  “I think it’s beautiful. She was beautiful,” she says as she jots something down and then points to the scale.

  “Yes, but I’m nothing like her.” And I spent my life trying to convince my grandmother, and everyone else, of that.

  I step on the scale. I don’t register my weight or ask her what she wrote, as I’m sure Sage and Emily would do. I’m an average girl and that’s fine with me. Sage is masterfully thin and literally works her ass off to be that way. Emily’s weight fluctuates between dangerously thin and big as a house because it seems she is always preparing to get pregnant, is pregnant, or has recently delivered.

  We finish with the preliminaries, and she directs me to a room. It’s cold and feels hollow. Even the posters on the wall are clinical instead of sappy or inspirational, similar to some offices I’ve been in. My every movement echoes the sound of crumpled paper and makes me cringe. I hate being here, but I have no choice. As I sit and wait, I think about life. I think about how one night can change everything. Your destiny. Your identity. Then I think of my whale and how it surfaced just at the right time. Everything’s going to be all right. But when I glance down, I wonder why my hands are shaking.

  CHAPTER 3 - SAGE

  I can’t recall exactly why I started following her on that day. Or even how I’d slipped away from my nanny and out onto the Pacific Beach boardwalk. I’m sure she was busy trying to keep my little sister, Sierra, out of trouble, unaware that the perfect child had wandered away. I remember trailing the girl wearing two different shoes, being pulled along by a woman in a navy-blue skirt. She didn’t notice me as we weaved through the crowd, dodging bikers and skaters trying to pass from the oncoming lane. After a minute or two, I felt the sun beating down on my shoulders. Sweat began to bead up on my nose, but I didn’t care. There was something about that little girl that kept me going, skipping in time with each of her steps. She had auburn hair, cropped unevenly at her chin. And when she finally glanced back in my direction, I noted soft, pale skin and bright-green eyes. She flashed a quick smile which I mirrored unconsciously. When she turned forward again, I wondered if the smile was for me or something that was always there, like the sky.

  I was probably only following her for a short time, but I suddenly began to feel lost and very far from the safety of my nanny. Disappointment poured over me, and I slowed my pace, ready to turn back. Then, the girl came to a screeching halt, yanking her wrist from the woman’s grasp. She turned to face me. The woman bent down to pick up the contents of her bag, which must have spilled with their abrupt stop.

  “What’s your name?” the girl said.

  “Sage. What’s yours?”

  “Jax. Are you in trouble?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged, trying to figure out what she meant. “Why are you wearing two different shoes?”

  This time she shrugged. “I don’t know.” Then she looked down at her shoes and back up at me with an endearing smile that didn’t quite belong to a small child. At least, I’d never seen one like that on any other eight-year-olds. The smile disappeared as swiftly as it came when a boy on a bike rushed by me and clipped my elbow. “Hey! Watch it!” Jax said, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer. That was the first of many times Jax would watch out for not only me, but anyone she loved.

  The woman she’d been walking with had finished with her bag, stepped over to where we stood, and then ushered us over to the side.

  “Jacqueline, why did you stop like that?” she asked.

  “Grandma, I think this little girl is lost,” Jax said.

  “Are you, honey?” she said as she bent down. Grandma didn’t appear to be very old and had a friendly smile, but I still felt I’d done something wrong. I couldn’t speak and searched over my shoulder to check if Miss Ellson was coming after me. I pictured her panic-stricken face racing down the boardwalk with Sierra in her arms. She always acted in fear of being fired. Sometimes I wondered if my father did that to her.

  “Yeah, she is, and I think she goes to my school,” Jax said.

  “Do you go to Linfield?”

  I nodded and a tear stung the corner of my eye. My throat went lumpy, and I tried to swallow it back. That’s what I got for trying to have fun for once—for forgetting who I was for just a second. I vowed if I got home safe it would be the last time. Little did I know that Jax would make sure I never kept that promise.

  I can’t believe it’s been almost twenty years since that fortuitous day at the beach. I can still remember, as if it was yesterday, sitting next to Jax and drinking cherry soda while her grandmother spoke with my nanny. I wasn’t afraid of getting in trouble when I heard Miss Ellison talking to my father on the phone. Mom had been out of town on business, like on so many other occasions. I was more worried about Miss Ellson getting in trouble.

  The next day, Jax approached me as I sat alone at a table during recess, still feeling guilty that my fears about the nanny were confirmed. Daddy didn’t put up with incompetence. I’d understood what the word meant, even at that time. Jax was with another little girl and a boy.

  “Hi, Sage,” Jax said smiling. “Remember me?”

  I nodded, noticing I was a little outnumbered.

  “This is my best friend, Emily.” She wrapped her hands around the girl’s arm and gave it a gentle tug. The girl smiled proudly in response. “She lives three doors down from me.” Then she hooked a thumb over to the boy who stood on the other side of the girl. “And this is her brother, Nerdy.”

  “It’s Neddy!” the boy said.

  “Ned and Emily are twins. I wish I was a twin,” Jax said.

  I stood from the table, and they watched me gather up my trash and throw it in the can.

  “I’m going to play tether ball,” Ned said. He turned and took two steps before stopping and shouting over his shoulder. “And don’t forget to wait for me after school.”

  “Okay, Neddy,” Emily said.

  “Do you want to be best friends with me and Emily?” Jax said.

  I examined her shoes to see if they matched this time, as if that would be the deciding factor. They were pi
nk high-top tennis shoes with glittery laces. That was good enough for me.

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, but first we have to do a ceremony.”

  “Is it going to hurt?” I asked.

  “Hell no,” she said, throwing her head back.

  “Jax!” Emily said, snapping her head to the side, serving up a disapproving glare. “You promised.”

  “Sorry, it slipped out. Come on!” Jax took off running toward the field. Emily followed next, skipping, and I stood there watching them get farther and farther away. One day after swearing I wouldn’t try to have fun, I was already faced with breaking it. I convinced myself that I could have best friends and still not have fun.

  The ceremony consisted of catching ladybugs in my hand, one for each of the girls. I had to pledge my undying friendship for them and then open my hands to release the insects. A gentle breeze surrounded me and lifted the ladybugs off the tip of my finger. Warm magic stirred in my belly with the knowledge that I was a part of something special. Emily and Jax did the same for me. That was the first of many ceremonies in which we’d all have to prove our friendship and loyalty year after year.

  Now as I cruise down the Interstate on my way to Jax’s place, I’m both apprehensive and excited. With Jax you never know how things will go. She’s like the Tasmanian Devil, running around in that cartoon like a tornado. I don’t have time to get sucked in to that today. My boss, Christine, is already pissed at me for not driving down from LA with her for this new client meeting. I told her I wanted to visit my grandmother after, so we needed to take separate cars. Listening to another one of her bitch sessions all the way down the 15 freeway was not tops on my list of favorite things. Not to mention it would give her another opportunity to remind me that if a man were in my position, he would have done it differently.

  I crack the window on my silver Lexus as I exit the freeway. I don’t care how cold it is on this January day, I want to feel the ocean breeze that I’ve missed since my last visit two months ago. The clouds are sparse and gray, but I’m hoping they’ll blow past the sun and reveal creamy blue skies.

  I head down West Mission Bay Avenue and a pang of guilt hits me for not vising my father. He doesn’t even know I’m here today, and I’ll keep it that way. I’m somewhat out of place in my business suit as I slow and roll through each stop sign heading into Mission Beach—a town where half-million-dollar homes can resemble shacks and people walk the streets looking homeless. This is where I grew up, and no matter how much I love my two-thousand-square-foot house in Agoura Hills, this will always be home.

  Jax is expecting me, but that makes no difference. There is no calendar app on her phone or appointments penciled into squares of dates on the fridge. I only hope she remembers, which to her credit she does most of the time. I take a right on Bayside Lane and can almost smell the sea salt. Jax is now living at her grandmother’s house. The home she was raised in and lived most of her life.

  The streets are narrow at the beach, and by this time of day most of the curbs are taken by surfers who park and walk down to the sand. The driveway is empty so I take it. I can’t chance some skater dude scratching my door as he slides by. I have almost three hours before I have to be at the meeting downtown, but I’ll tell Jax I have two. She will inevitably have some last-minute excursion that will leave me stressed for time. As I approach the door, I hear music playing.

  I ring the doorbell and wait as I turn and scan the street. I should be completely at ease in my hometown, yet I still check for possible threats. After all, I resided in the more desirable, safer part of this beach community. I knock several times. When Jax doesn’t answer, I pound louder. That damn music must be drowning out any evidence of my arrival. So I decide to grab the handle and see if it’s unlocked. The first thing that pops into my head as I push the door open is God, I hope her hair has grown back. Last time she bleached her auburn locks blonde, she hated it and proceeded to chop it all off. She looked like a blonde Demi in GI Jane.

  “Jax,” I say, trying to make myself heard over Kurt Cobain.

  The living room is pretty much the same, but the sofa has a blanket and pillow on it as if she’d slept there last night. I catch a glimpse of a duffle bag next to the coffee table when a guy enters the room.

  “Hey,” he says with a slight drawl, as if it’s perfectly normal for me to be standing there. He has a plate in his hands with a half-eaten sandwich on it and walks past me while tearing into the other half.

  “I’m looking for Jax,” I say as he walks by me and plops down in a chair.

  “Oh, she’s not here,” he says in between chews. Then, as if a light bulb went off, he freezes. His eyes travel from my heels to my face, and he nods with a little grin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sets the plate down. “Wow, sorry, that was rude of me.” His southern accent is more pronounced now. He jumps up and sticks out his hand. “I’m Brady.” His hair is damp and dirty blonde, messy with a slight wave in it. He’s wearing a loose tank and what appears to be swimming shorts. I am guessing he is a college student and possibly a surfer.

  I shake his hand and register the transfer of crumbs and wetness to my palm. “I’m Sage, a friend of Jax. She was supposed to be meeting me here.”

  “Then I’m sure she’ll be back.” He stares at my legs for too long, then points at the makeshift bed and says, “Have seat while you wait.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want to mess up your bed.” Not to mention have my body make contact with who knows what is on that blanket.

  “That’s not my bed, but I do rent a bedroom here. My brother Travis crashed there last night.”

  “Oh,” I nod. I walk over to the window to watch for Jax’s arrival which had better be any damn second. I should have expected this, but she never mentioned she was running a half-way house for freeloading surfers.

  “Wanna sandwich?” I hear him say.

  “No, thanks,” I reply without turning from the window. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I don’t bother calling Jax yet. Instead I decide to head out to the porch and make some calls. “I’m going outside to use my phone.”

  I take a seat on the porch swing and smile before my ass hits the mesh. It’s old, rusted metal, and might just collapse from under me. But I’m glad to see the spot where Jax, Emily, and I sat gossiping and eating ice cream still alive and swinging. It’s been so long. I almost wish they were both here now. They were the only ones I could ever open up to. Now I store it away, the same way my family stores its money, hoping I never have to use it.

  I pull out my phone and stare at the screen, wanting to send Christine a text, but it will only annoy her. She hates texting and doesn’t want to wait for my replies when she needs me. I punch in her number and count each ring. After the fourth ring, I smile and her voicemail picks up. I leave a message checking in so she won’t stress even though she probably will anyway.

  I decide to send a text to Emily. I won’t be able to visit her while I’m here, but the swing makes me miss her all the more. “Wish you were here,” is all I say. She knows I’m down for a meeting and a quick lunch with Jax. It was too short notice for her to get away. I swear she works ten times harder than I do, and while I can’t imagine how she deals with that lifestyle, my heart melts when I’m around those kids.

  I flip through some of the recent pictures Emily sent me when I hear a car pull up. I stand up when I see it’s Jax. “Hey, girlfriend,” I shout as she walks toward me. Immediately I can tell something is different. The ever present spark that lives in her eyes has faded. When she reaches me, we wrap our arms around each other. I tower over her in my heels. Her hand reaches up to my hair and runs the length of it.

  “I missed you,” she says.

  We pull away and our eyes connect. “Me too.” I smile and slowly that spark fills in her eyes and Jax is back. She is probably just tired, so I don’t ask why she’s late. I’m simply elated to be once again with my best friend.

  CHAPTER
4 - EMILY

  “Mommy, you said only medicine.” James stands in the cart, hovering over Ben who is seated in the front.

  “I know, Buddy. I just need to grab a few things.” I run my hand over his soft brown hair. “Promise, now have a seat.” He sits and grabs his toy jeep, trying to squeeze it through the holes of the cart. I have just picked him up from pre-school. He is usually tired and hungry and it’s best to go straight home. But getting my circus in and out of the clown car is not easy, and I need to minimize these trips. “Oh, I almost forgot bananas,” I say as I pull into the produce section. My mind is in a million places, and for once, I forgot my list. I live and die by my lists and with three kids, two dogs, a cat, a hamster, and an iguana, there is no way I can survive without a reminder to breathe. It’s chaotic organization at its best.

  “Nano,” my two-year-old, Ben, says and points.

  “Yes, sweetie, that’s right.” I rub his little dimpled cheeks. He is a mirror image of Eric—dark eyes encased in olive skin. James is a combination of both of us—my chin and blue eyes, but his father’s skin tone. My seven-year-old daughter Sophie, on the other hand, must have been the product of some telepathic surrogacy because she doesn’t look like either of us. “Do you know what color those bananas are?” I say to Ben.

  “Pease,” he says, indicating that he does. “Please” means yes.

  “What color, Benny?”

  “Lello,” he says. He points to the bananas as we roll toward them. “Lello, lello, lello.” He loves to say things in threes.

  “No! No bananas!” James’s voice is fearful, not defiant.