Saltwater Secrets - Cindy Callaghan Page 0,2
forward to it for weeks. I can’t get good pizza in Australia.”
“Okay,” he said. “But after that, we’re starting game one of a Monopoly tournament, so don’t make other plans.”
“For sure,” she said, then added, “I love Monopoly.”
I was less enthusiastic. I’d hoped to graduate from board games to bonfires on the beach with cute lifeguards and new friends.
Dad grabbed his fishing pole, and, just before shutting the door behind him, he said, “Same deal as always. Text me at nine, twelve, and three o’clock, and be home by six for dinner.”
“Yup,” we said together.
“Got it, Stell?”
“I got it.”
He closed the door.
“What was that about?” Josie asked about the extra “Got it, Stell?”
I shrugged. “Oh, nothing. He worries, you know.”
So, about my dad. He’s been married twice. First to my mom, Montana—they got divorced before she knew she was pregnant with me. As soon as they separated, he met Kate. It was love at first sight. They got married after just a few dates, moved to Australia to be close to Kate’s family, and had Josie, only four months after I was born. Turned out that Gary Higley’s dream of love at first sight fizzled in the outback. Dad returned to New Jersey. Now one daughter (me) lives in New York City with my mom and my stepdad, while his other daughter (Josie) is in Sydney with her mom and her stepdad. The three of us are together for only eight weeks each summer.
I was glad Dad was interested in dating again. He deserved to be happy, but I didn’t love the idea of him getting remarried. I mean, I had to share Mom, and I didn’t want to share him, too.
“So, what’s up, Jo?” I asked. “Get me caught up on your life.”
There was no answer, because she wasn’t there. I looked around. Neither was my suitcase.
“Josie?”
She popped her head out of the bedroom we shared. “Putting your stuff in here so summer can begin. You can unpack later, yeah?”
“Sure,” I said. “I just need to look at the ocean to feel like I’m really here.” I walked onto the back porch that overlooked the Atlantic. I loved the smell of salt in the air and the sound of the rolling waves. It was the complete opposite of the concrete and traffic of home.
My dad had inherited this house from his parents and carried on the tradition of spending summers here. It’s perfect that he’s a teacher, so we can come down here.
If not for these weeks at the shore, Josie and I would hardly ever see each other. After all, she lives literally on the other side of the world.
This tradition was so important to both of us that once we got cell phones, we made a pact: Except for moms, we wouldn’t contact our non-summer worlds while we were in Whalehead. It was hard for me not to call Pete, my best friend and crush forever, but I’d done it. This year it wouldn’t be hard at all.
“Ready for water ice?” she asked.
“Have I ever not wanted water ice?” It was our tradition to kick off the summer witha trip to Water Ice World. There was no reason that this year’s trip would be any different.
Two Stella
Police Station
June 25
The detective stands by the door of an interview room and says to my dad, “Gary, I’ll be happy to listen before any sort of official questioning begins, and it probably will, from what I understand. You can join us in here.”
“What about a lawyer?” Dad asks Detective Santoro.
“Always a good idea. I can give you some names, and you can make calls while I talk to her, if you want.”
“Nah, that’s all right,” Dad says. “I know who to call.”
“Are you sure you wanna call him?” the detective asks.
Dad is referring to my stepdad, Gregory—not Greg. He’s nice enough, I guess. Just weird about his name, and he kind of changed my world—which had been perfectly fine—when he entered it.
“Yeah.” Dad sighs. “I’m sure.” Then Dad adds, “And, Jay, thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet. And you know, I can’t pull any strings or anything.”
“I’m not asking you to. I just want you to listen to the whole story and tell me what you think.”
“Yup,” the detective says. “Can do.”
Dad looks at me. “Just tell Detective Santoro what happened. I’ll be right out here. You just give me the signal if you need me.”
I nod with a half smile, because our traditional “signal” is for me to tuck my hands