sister works at the paper,” she told Sam. “If your brothers are in Fairbanks, she’ll be the first to know.”
He smiled and thanked her, but when she went back out to the dining room for more dirty plates, it was obvious his smile hadn’t been real.
I can tell what Sam’s feeling by the shadows that flit across his face; the way his eyes flash many shades of brown, like a spinning kaleidoscope, especially when he is thinking about his brothers.
“Aunt Abigail is on it,” I told him. “She’s a great reporter and she knows everything and everyone. Really, she’ll find them.”
He’d moved forward and draped the dish towel he was holding around my shoulders, pulled me right up to his face, and kissed me. I’d been waiting for that kiss for weeks, but it still caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to do with my soapy hands, so I ran them through his hair and kissed him back—hard. Just like I’d wanted to so many times before, on the flying bridge, in the Pelican, even covered in blood in the troll pit. “Salt,” he murmured. “I knew you’d taste salty.”
Apparently all of this caught my mother off guard, too, as she came barreling into the kitchen with another stack of plates that flew out of her arms, crashing to the floor and scaring the living daylights out of all of us.
I’m so busy remembering that kiss, I barely feel the tug on my arm pulling me back to the auditorium hallway. In front of me on the red flowered carpet, Sam and Hank are still holding on to each other. I can feel my mascara running down my cheeks.
“Hi,” says a blurry face pressing close to mine.
“Jack?”
The face nods.
“Did Sam give you that?” He points to the red rubber band sticking out from where I tried to hide it under my bun.
“He did.”
“Did you know it’s lucky?” he asks.
“That’s why I’m wearing it.”
“Did you save him?”
“I tried,” I say. “Maybe he saved me?”
“Yeah, that’s what we do, isn’t it?” Jack says. “We save each other.”
“You’re exactly how he described you,” I tell him, and he grins.
“You were amazing,” Selma says, stepping closer to Jack and me. Her smile is unlike anything I’ve ever seen on Selma’s face before. “Your audition, Alyce…it was perfect. You are definitely going to get in.” She’s holding a crumpled paper towel with her name on it and looks funny—punch-drunk.
“Thanks…what’s that?” I ask. She’s cradling it almost the same way I’m holding the bouquet of roses from Sam.
She presses it close to her chest, as if it’s a love letter. “Just something I’ve been waiting for all my life.”
I can’t wrap my mind around what’s made Selma act so un-Selma-like—normally it’s impossible to get her to stop talking—but nothing makes sense right now and my legs are cramping up. I need to go stretch but the emotion in the hallway is so thick, it would be easier to cut through the neck bone of a salmon than walk past all these people. Sam is whispering in Hank’s ear. Maybe he’s telling him the story of the orcas, and how he ended up here?
Sam must look so different to his brothers. I’m sure he’s changed a lot since they last saw him. My mother bought the clothes he’s wearing at Sears Roebuck two weeks ago, when we first arrived in Fairbanks, because all he had were Uncle Gorky’s old ones. I’m still getting used to seeing him in them myself.
Even when we first got here for the audition—was that just a few hours ago?—he seemed so out of place. Stiff, and more seasick than he ever looked on the boat. He gestured at my pointe shoes. “They look so weird on your feet.”
I thought so, too. “They’d look weird anywhere but hanging over the bunk during fishing season.”
Maybe he thought I still felt guilty, because he said, “Your dad doesn’t want you to live your life trying to please him. He really wants you to be happy.”
And then he leaned back in case that made me mad like it did the last time he’d said that.
But I get it now. I’d thought I was protecting my dad all this time, but I’m pretty sure he’s always just wanted me to be me.
For the first time, I danced like someone who knew what she wanted. It felt fearless, like I was letting nobody down, especially myself.
But even that doesn’t seem quite as important now, watching Hank