A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,86

from the side. “It’s okay, sweetie. Get it out.”

The semi-sane words in the face of Rachel’s insanity penetrated her dense haze of anger and ultimately made her fall apart. She clung to her mom and let the emotions pour out through her eyes in big, burning tears. They continued to hold on to each other as the night stretched out, eventually landing on the couch, side by side.

“I wouldn’t really strangle her,” Rachel said at last in a hoarse whisper.

“I know you wouldn’t. I know, Rachel.”

“If I had had any idea she would get that upset, I never, ever would have said any of it, Mom. I’d do anything to have her back here.”

“Me, too,” her mom said. “Anything in the world.”

Rachel sank more deeply into the cushion behind her, letting her head fall on top of it, every muscle in her body spent. And yet...she felt as if she’d expelled some toxic air from inside of her, as if she was lighter somehow. In addition, for the first time since she’d moved back home, she felt close to her mother. Closer than they’d ever been in the past, even when they were so much alike. Back then, one of their similarities had been an avoidance of talking about anything too personal. Their conversations had centered on things like medical advances and test scores and her mother’s more challenging patients.

Curling on her side to face her mom, Rachel leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder and clasped her upper arm. “I think I needed to do that, maybe.”

“Needed to do what?”

“Go on a psych-ward-worthy, crazy tirade.”

“You’ve needed to do a lot of things, sweetie. And you’re doing them. Finally.”

“I hate it. Hate. It.”

Nodding in the near-dark, her mom said, “Pretty much sucks. We get so bowled over by grief and sadness, we forget to celebrate the wonderful, fun-loving girl Noelle was.”

“That’s true.” Rachel had vague memories of talk at the meal after the funeral services about celebrating Noelle’s life, but she’d been so beyond comprehending the concept that day—and so set on avoiding thoughts of it ever since—that she’d never really considered what it would mean. “We should honor her somehow.”

Jackie took Rachel’s hand in hers and squeezed. “I like that. Got any ideas?”

“Actually...yeah. Something very Noelle. Come on.”

Without a thought of her train-wreck appearance or what she was wearing, she led her mom out of the house and into the car.

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE PUBLIC BEACH parking lot was deserted. Not surprising since it was after midnight. Even though it was a Friday night, beach traffic dwindled and tourists turned their attention to the bars and clubs after dark. Rachel pulled the car up in the space closest to the beach and hopped out.

Her mom was slow to follow. By the time Jackie got out of the car, Rachel had impulsively grabbed the three oversize, mostly dry beach towels from her trunk. She had a bad habit of leaving them there after she went out in her kayak, but tonight they would come in handy.

“What are we doing?” her mom asked, her light brown hair blowing in her face.

“She loved the beach.”

Her mom crossed her arms and looked out toward the water. “She adored the drama of the waves starting when you two were itty-bitty. I could barely keep her out of them from the time she could walk.” A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “I remember the first time your dad took you two to the beach alone one weekend when I had to work. He came home and swore he’d never do that again. Trying to keep track of Noelle aged him five years in an afternoon.”

“I think I remember that. Either that or I’ve heard the story before. Come on.”

With a questioning look, her mom followed her onto the sand. The wind on the shore was fierce tonight, making the waves wilder than usual. The moon was nearly full. Clouds periodically blew over it, for the most part, but every few minutes, it peeked out and lit up the sand and the water. Like Rachel and her mom, Mother Nature was having a dramatic night. Apparently, she’d scared the tourists inside—there was no one in sight up or down the beach.

“What are we doing, Rachel?”

Rachel dropped the towels in a pile several feet from the wet sand, thinking. What would Noelle do? No-brainer. “Night swimming.”

Her mom laughed halfheartedly. “I didn’t bring a suit.”

“That would never stop Noelle.” Rachel unsnapped her shorts and shed them without hesitation.

“What?” Jackie