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Chapter 24
Waves crashed over Alison’s feet and ankles as she strolled up the beach, enjoying the seasonally-rare feeling of Oregon sun kissing her shoulders. When she’d seen the bright day outside her window that morning and felt the warm air, she’d known it was the perfect chance to wear the one spaghetti-strap sundress she’d brought and walk barefoot for their stroll along the beach, letting the light breeze lift her hair and rustle her skirt.
Alison loved theatrics, and she loved looking the part. Costumes had always been one of the main tools she’d used to inhabit her characters fully onstage. So, now, dressed in perfect costume as a carefree summer beachcomber, she couldn’t help but feel the part as well.
Deep in the back of her mind, she knew her problems were waiting for her again as soon as the sun ducked back behind the nearly omnipresent clouds and the fog rolled in off the ocean. She would slide them back on as she slid on her cardigan. But for now, in the sunlight? They’d evaporated.
“Alison! Look at this one!” Mila lifted a shell and dusted it off.
Alison took it and turned it over in her hands, examining it from every angle. “It’s spectacular. I love the colors. And the shape is so unexpected.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Mila said, pride pouring off of her in waves. Alison’s heart swelled with warmth at the words.
Mila ran off down the beach to continue the hunt for the next perfect shell to add to the collection, and Alison turned to look at Troy. “She’s wonderful, Troy. I love her. You’ve done an incredible job.”
Troy waved this aside. “She’s done the heavy lifting herself. All I’ve done is kept her safe and fed. Ninety-nine percent of how smart and great she is was who she was on the day she was born.”
Alison laid her hand lightly on his arm. “I don’t buy that for one minute. Keeping her safe and fed was what she needed, and it’s what you gave her, and you didn’t get in the way of the rest. That’s more than a lot of parents manage to do, so I still think you deserve some credit.”
Troy took her hand in his as they strolled. “You’re good for my self-esteem.”
She shook her head. “You think I’m flattering you, but I’m not. I’m just holding up a mirror to reflect reality.”
“Honestly, she’s come out of her shell more since you’ve been here than any other time I can remember. She was going through this phase where it seemed like everything I said, the kinds of things she used to think were hilarious and fun, were suddenly totally annoying to her. It was like someone told her it was illegal to show enthusiasm about anything. And that same person then offered to pay her five bucks every time she rolled her eyes, and she was like, ‘oh, great, that’s how I’ll pay for college.’”
Alison nodded sagely. “I’ve seen that syndrome before. It can be pretty serious if it’s not caught in time. It’s lucky that we seem able to turn it around at this early stage.”
“Syndrome?”
“Oh, yes. Diagnosable and everything. It’s called ‘teenageritis.’”
Troy laughed, and then they strolled a little farther in companionable silence. Finally, he broke it by saying, “We?”
“What?”
“You said it’s lucky that we seem to be turning it around.”
She considered that for a moment. “I guess that’s how I think of it. Are you cool with that?”
“I’m more than cool with it. I’m cold with it. Downright freezing.”
She smiled, and the smile gradually transformed into a laugh. “That’s good. But, Troy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to have to revisit that diagnosis. I’m starting to believe some of those eyerolls may have been earned honestly.”
He laughed. “I won’t argue that one.”
Mila came scampering back, holding two more shells this time, one in each hand. She handed one to Troy and the other to Alison. They reached out and took them, and as they did, she saw that Mila’s eyes didn’t even glance at the hands they used to accept the shells. She was zoned in on the hands that hung between them, fingers intertwined. And a small, bright, almost secret smile danced on her lips.
“These are beautiful, Mila,” Troy said, and Mila’s head snapped up as if his words had snapped her out of a trance.
“Troy, can Alison come to dinner? Please?”
Troy looked at Alison. “Oh, I don’t know. I hate to put you on the spot. Are you free?”
“As a bird,” she confirmed.
“Yes!” Mila cried, then snatched the two shells back and shoved them into her bag before running off down the beach.
“Well, it’s official,” Troy said.
“What?”
“You’re her new favorite person in the world. I think you’ve surpassed me. That’s okay, though. I don’t blame her one bit.”
