Author: Robyn Carr

“Things almost never go back to the way they were, Ashley. That’s one of the hardest lessons—that you can’t undo things and you can’t unsay things. When you pass through something like that, you have to build something new.”

“So people don’t get back together?”

“Sure they do, but if they operate under the old rules they’ll revisit the old problems. You can’t keep doing the same thing over and over and expect different results.”

“Yeah, my mom said that, too.” She turned to look at him. “You must have had to make a lot of changes.”

He laughed without humor. “Yeah. I hate when that happens.” The young man on the board was coming in. Eric watched as he dragged the board out of the water. “We only lived here a couple of years when I was a kid. I never learned to do that.”

“Popular sport around here,” Ashley said. “The bay is a great place for it—it’s almost always calm. Sometimes when the tide is out you can even get on the ocean. Want me to teach you sometime? Cooper, the guy who runs the bait shop now, he doesn’t have bait anymore but he has some paddleboards and kayaks instead. He rents ’em. And my mom and I—we have boards.”

Eric smiled. “How about now?”

“You’re not exactly dressed for it,” she said. “You could get wet, unless you’re like a natural. And I bet you’re not.”

He laughed loudly at that. “I can almost guarantee I’m not. But if I get wet, I’ll dry. Let’s go get a couple of boards.”

“You’re sure?”

“Why not? I’ve been trying to think of something we could do. I mean, you probably don’t like popping dents out of cars or sanding them down and painting them. And you know—I always used to envy the kids who had their boards or skiffs out on the bay.”

She grinned at him and his heart melted. “You’re kind of goofy.”

“One of the things I changed. I exchanged idiot for goofy.” He stood up. “Come on, we’ll give it ten minutes. And if you’re not completely sick of me, maybe I’ll come back at a prearranged time and wear a pair of shorts.”

She stood. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

Gina’s shift should have been over before three, but she hung around the diner waiting for Ashley and Eric to come in for a Coke. An hour had passed. She hoped they’d gotten caught up in talking. She beat down the fear that something had gone terribly wrong. She knew Ashley wanted to meet him, believed that Eric was a safe man, but still...

Finally, unable to bear the suspense, she said goodbye to Stu and the teenage waitress on duty and walked down to the beach. What she would give for Ray Anne’s binoculars! They didn’t seem to be on the beach and a glance at Cooper’s deck showed that place didn’t seem occupied. Where could they have gone?

Then she heard a distant laugh that was clearly Ashley’s. She looked out on the bay and there they were. Eric had removed his shirt and shoes, his pants were rolled up to his knees and he was trying to paddle the board, very clumsily, very slowly. And—he was soaking wet. His burnished red hair had curled up just like Ashley’s did, water was dripping off him. His balance wobbled and, with a giant splash, in he fell into the sound of Ashley’s wild laughter.

Gina wanted to sit on the beach and watch them, but she turned and left. This was something her daughter had never had in her life—a man in the family. No father, no grandfather, no steady guy. Mac had always been there for the girls, just as Gina had been, but this was different. And what were the chances that that irresponsible jerk could turn into someone decent? She didn’t have any illusions that this could turn into a powerful and intense father-daughter relationship, but even if Ashley could have the knowledge that she didn’t come from a total loser, Gina would be so grateful.

She looked upward and said, “Oh, thank you, God. Thank you. And please let it be real.”

* * *

It had been about two months, but Ashley had finally gotten to the point she could resist reading about or listening to stories of her ex-boyfriend’s grand achievements in baseball. About the same time Thunder Point High School was celebrating graduation, Oregon State was making it to the playoff championships. She was one of the few not planning to follow the playoffs or trying to attend home games.

Ashley was, however, concentrating on work. She wanted to earn money—her future depended on it. There were very few Thunder Point kids who didn’t have to work to pay for their own activities or cars or car insurance, not to mention saving for college. In fact, most of Ashley’s friends used their part-time job or babysitting money to buy their clothes or cheerleading uniforms or prom formals.

Ashley worked afternoons at the diner, relieving her mother, and some mornings she worked with her grandmother at the deli. All her friends were working—Landon was helping at Cooper’s almost every day and Eve had gotten herself a part-time job at Pizza Hut. They wouldn’t be spending the long days of summer on the beach this year, but rather catching moments here and there to hang out. And even finding time to spend with her mom and Gram wasn’t easy. Sometimes they met at the diner if Ashley went in a little early for her shift and Carrie took a break from the deli before heading home.

She started at the diner on Memorial Day weekend, the end of May, and she’d only been there a week, the third generation of James women to work there, and she loved it. Gina trained her herself and just based on that and what she already knew from her mother, she was excellent at the job. In fact, although her previous plans had included going to State, living there in a dorm or apartment, she was reconsidering. It might be a better idea to stay in Thunder Point for her first year of college, borrowing the car to drive to Coquille to the community college and keeping at least one of her jobs. It would not only give her a chance to get used to the whole college experience, but it was also far cheaper and she could sock away more money.

She enjoyed the job of serving and cleaning up at the diner, and she saw lots of familiar faces every day. Friends and neighbors dropped by often and she realized that by being there, she never missed a thing that was happening in town or on the beach.

The new doctor in town, Scott Grant, would finally open his clinic across the street soon and he was holding a grand opening that Carrie would cater. Until he had a full roster of patients he’d only be open three days a week, supplementing his income by being on call at the Bandon emergency room. Deputy Pritkus, a much more efficient gossip than Mac, kept Ashley up-to-date on local trouble, mostly small stuff, but interesting nonetheless. And Frank, who was taking a couple of college level classes even before his senior year, came by when the diner wasn’t busy in the afternoon. He didn’t pester her; he brought his books, had a cola and studied in a booth in the back of the diner.

He always left the diner in time to get home for dinner. He never told her anything about Downy and she never asked.

Ashley assumed that the whole Downy family would be going to Corvallis for any playoff games happening there and that at least one or two of them would travel to out of state games if they could. She could ask Frank, but she wouldn’t. She did ask him why he’d started coming to the diner to study and he said, “I’ve been doing this for a couple of years. It’s always noisy at my house—TV, music, people making noise, sometimes arguing. It’s easier to concentrate here. And it’s even better since you started working here.” And he grinned.

So when she wasn’t busy, she’d grab herself a cola and slide into the booth across from him. “Just tell me if I’m bothering you.”

He looked up from his books and smiled. “You’re not bothering me, Ash.”

“Anything new?”

“As a matter of fact, I got an invitation to meet with an early admissions counselor at MIT.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Was that your plan?”

He shook his head. “Wasn’t even on my wish list. I think they want to look at me, talk to me, just to be sure I’m not some hick from a little fishing village before they process my application. I’m trying to decide if I can afford it. I should try since my focus is on math and computer science. You know, I think they actually looked at the computerized study guide I developed for high school students. I recorded it and loaded it on YouTube.”

She stared at him in wonder. “You did that? I didn’t know about that.”

“I just did it for the people who ask me for help all the time. It’s almost always the same questions. It was efficient. I put a link in my letter to admissions. I didn’t expect anyone to actually look at it.”

“How do you come up with these ideas?”

He just shrugged. “There are several online tutoring programs—some of them have millions of hits. There are a few things I’m good at....”

She laughed at him. “A few, huh? Do you know your IQ?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “Do I need to? I promise you, it wouldn’t change anything.”

“I think you’re a genius or something. It must be so much fun.”

“To be a geek?” he asked. “To be different from everyone?” He shook his head. “I get bored real easy. My mother calls me high-maintenance. It’s hard to make friends that last after they pass the test they needed help for. I think it would be easier to be good at football or baseball.”

“You think that? Well, don’t. What you have has a longer shelf life.” Then she rolled her eyes and laughed at herself. “Spoken like a waitress, huh? One of my jobs is to check dates on the packaged food! And, as for friends, you better not ditch me for a smarter girl because you made very big promises about my visits to the east coast. Very big. If you get a girlfriend, first thing you tell her is that you have a commitment to me for visiting and you’re the tour guide. She’ll just have to live with it.”

“I’m pretty sure we won’t run into that problem. Have you decided where you’re going to apply? Still looking at State?”

“Funny you should ask—I’m thinking of taking my first year at community college so I can keep my two part-time jobs. They’re good jobs—good tips. And if I ever want to go farther away than State, I’ll need money.”

He grinned at that. “Oregon State is an excellent school.”

“I know. And believe me, I’m not thinking of avoiding it because of you-know-who. I like my jobs. Doing it this way might give me a leg up. You know?”

“I know. Probably a good idea to keep your options open. Listen, do you have any days off? Ever?”

“I can easily get time off, as long as I give Stu and Gram a little notice.”

“I can borrow my friend’s boat. He might insist on coming along, but maybe not. Doesn’t matter, really. We could spend a day sailing.”

“I could bring lunch,” she said. “I get a great deal at the deli. Like free. What’s a good day?”

“I have classes Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Any other day.”

“Next Monday?”

“Make it early. Seven in the morning?”

“It’s usually kind of foggy....”

“I know—it’s very cool to sit in the bay and watch the fog burn off.”

* * *

By nine on week nights, Ashley was closing out the cash drawer and mopping the floor and she was usually on her way home by nine-thirty.

Ashley always walked home. It was only a couple of blocks in a safe town. Unlike what she read about big cities, if she screamed for any reason, all the porch lights would pop on and people would stick their heads out to see if anyone needed help. Sometimes she got home to find her mom and Mac on the porch, talking and holding hands.