Hard Edge - Tess Oliver Page 0,16
held it in my lap.
Everclear’s “Father of Mine” came on the radio, and it brought me back to the morning and the funeral. Through the emotional hurricane of the day, I’d sensed some tension between Caden and his dad. “What was going on with you and your dad today? You didn’t show to the church, and then, all of a sudden, you were at the gravesite. But I didn’t see you talk to your dad once.”
The tiny muscle in the side of his jaw twitched beneath the dark beard stubble as he kept his eyes glued to a nearly empty highway. He didn’t answer.
“Never mind. It’s not any of my business.”
He seemed relieved that I dropped the subject. I was there to support him through a terrible day. The last thing I needed to do was drop more grief on him by prying into his mostly tumultuous relationship with his dad.
The beach came into view, with its ivory sand, dark blue water and tall lifeguard towers. It brought back plenty of nostalgic memories. We drove past the bus stop bench where, starved and tired after a long day in the water, Grady and I would sit looking like shriveled, salted prunes, waiting for the bus to roll through and take us home.
I gazed out the window and watched our favorite hamburger stand and the string of beach showers pass by. “Feels like I’m too young to be saying this, but I miss the good ole’ days.” I’d cried off and on all morning, to the point where I’d felt completely drained of tears, but the dreaded lump in my throat returned. I squeezed Scooby in my arms and a puff of dust floated up from the fake brown fur. “Guess now, those days are really gone for good.”
Chapter 7
Caden
Kenna and I hiked down the path to the beach. An onshore breeze had kicked up, causing a red and blue beach umbrella to escape and take off at a full twirl. The frantic owner ran after it as it headed straight toward us. I snatched it as it rolled past and handed it back to the grateful woman.
“Well done,” Kenna quipped as she pulled off her shoes. She glanced down at her dress, a conservative, business type dress, suitable for a job interview or a funeral but not exactly beachwear. “I probably should’ve stopped by the house to change, but too late now.” Before we got out of the truck, she’d had another good, long cry, and we’d sat inside the cab, listening to tunes and not saying a word, until it got too hot.
I pulled off my shoes too, and we headed toward the water. She glanced over at my legs. “I kind of expected you to have a limp after your broken femur.”
“I still do sometimes. Depends on the weather and how long I’ve been sitting.”
She stopped to pick up a shell but then tossed it back to the sand. “Do you miss racing? My dad said you were well on your way to a big career.”
“Yep, things were just starting to take off. Big sponsors were calling. I’m still in touch with the team manager. He’s offered me a spot on the crew if I’m interested. Sort of a step down, but I’m thinking about it. I’m hoping I might be able to get back on the bike again too.”
“Seems like that would be kind of scary after what you went through.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure I’d be more hesitant this time around. Kind of like getting back on the horse I guess. It’s just wishful thinking anyhow.”
We stopped five feet from the water where the sand was still dry enough to sit on. Fifty yards down the beach, two kids were building a sand castle as their mom took pictures of them with her phone.
“If I’m ever a mom, I’ll be sitting in the sand building the castle with them. Not standing over them with a stupid cell phone. Life’s passing us all by as we stare through our damn phones.” Kenna leaned back on her hands. Her hair was pale in the sunlight and it swirled around her face and shoulders like spun gold.
“You’d be a good mom, Trinket.” I looked pointedly down at the diamond ring on her finger. “When’s the wedding?” The thought of Kenna being with anyone but me or Grady left a bitter taste of regret in my mouth.
“We haven’t set a date yet.” She wrapped her arms around her legs