It Comes In Waves Read Free Page B

It burrowed into bones, drowned itself in arteries and veins, hiding in places where no parent could extract it.
    She fell back on her pillow and pulled the covers up to her chest. “It’s not just that, Nick. She lied to me. And it was a lazy lie. Like she thinks I’m not paying attention. How could she think that?”
    â€œIs this about that kid she likes? Connor?”
    â€œColin. She’s going to run off with him.”
    Nick chuckled drowsily. “To where? The movies?”
    â€œArizona,” Claire said, losing her patience. “Colin has a friend there with an empty RV. They’re planning to drive it off into the sunset.”
    â€œGood luck to them. Have they seen the price of gas recently?”
    â€œNick, this isn’t a joke.”
    â€œAnd Lizzie told you this?”
    â€œNo, I—I overheard her.” It wasn’t a lie. Reading Lizzie’s texts was a form of snooping, wasn’t it? No different than catching a conversation in an adjoining room. “Colin took her off campus today. One more unexcused skip, one more and he gets expelled. All I have to do is call it in. He can’t very well take her to Arizona if he’s expelled, can he?”
    â€œFor God’s sake, Claire, listen to yourself. You can’t do that.”
    â€œOf course I can. I’m a teacher and teachers report unexcused absences.”
    â€œShe’ll never forgive you. You do realize that, don’t you?”
    â€œShe doesn’t have to know I was the one to report him.”
    â€œLizzie’s not going to Arizona, Claire. It’s not in her nature. She’s too fearful. She’s not like you. We’re not your parents. We haven’t screwed her up that badly.”
    Claire reached across the nightstand to turn a frame toward her. It was a photograph of her and Lizzie at a first grade mother-daughter social, cheek to cheek, each wearing the matching macaroni necklaces Lizzie had made for the occasion. Claire still had hers, the paint long since flaked off on nearly all the rigatoni. She turned to see it wound around the base of her vanity lamp, caked in dust.
    Tears pooled.
    â€œI promised her we would be different,” she whispered.
    â€œWhat was that?” Nick asked.
    â€œNothing.” Frustration pushed more tears to her eyes. Claire wiped them harshly with the sheet.
    â€œClaire, are you sure you’re okay? Did something else happen today?”
    â€œI got this weird . . .” She hesitated, eyeing a hangnail on her thumb. “I got a call tonight,” she admitted, worrying the piece of skin. “From some guy at ESPN.”
    â€œDid you say ESPN?”
    â€œThey want me to come back to Folly Beach and film an interview for a show on women surfers.”
    â€œThey want you? Seriously?”
    Claire pulled roughly on the loose cuticle. It bled; she winced, sucking it clean. “Yes,
seriously
.”
    â€œDon’t get defensive. I’m just surprised. You never made a big deal out of all that, so I never knew you were any good, that’s all.”
    â€œWell, I am. I mean, I
was
.”
    â€œBut you wouldn’t honestly go, would you?”
    Wouldn’t she? Until that moment, Claire had talked herself out of accepting the offer. Nick’s discouragement was like a flipped switch; determination sparked, hot and fierce. “Maybe I would,” she said. “I was even thinking . . .”
    â€œThinking what?”
    She glanced back at the photograph on her nightstand. “That I would bring Lizzie.”
    â€œBut Lizzie’s with us this summer.”
    Us.
Two years after the divorce, a year after Nina Bolton had moved into Nick’s house, and that one pronoun still made Claire want to jump out of her skin.
    â€œIt would just be for a few days, Nick. They want me to come as soon as school’s out.”
    â€œAnd you think that’s the best thing for