The Mothers(49)

“I can’t hear you for shit,” he told Aubrey during dinner. “You talk so soft.”

She scooted a couple of inches closer. Her thigh pressed against his.

“Better?” she said.

He was just flirting with her, she thought, until his head dropped, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on hearing her. He wasn’t the type to play flirty games. JT had spent half the volleyball game joking around and the other half missing the ball flying past because he was too busy watching Nadia in her bikini. Miller had dominated. He seemed like the type who played to win everything, who yelled at the TV screen when he lost in a video game or slammed his paddle on the Ping-Pong table after a bad hit. He’d never yelled at Aubrey when she messed up, though, and after she did the smallest thing right, he trotted up the court to give her a high-five. Had he always been this serious or had his seriousness come from fighting overseas? JT had never been deployed, but he knew his time was coming. He wasn’t scared. That was the reason he’d enlisted in the first place, to complete missions.

“And to learn things and travel,” he said, through a mouthful of fries. “And to go to California to eat hot dogs with pretty girls.”

The beach was dark by the time they returned. The boys tossed the ripped cardboard from their two six-packs onto the fire they’d made, which burned steadily in the pit, crackling over driftwood and crumpled newspaper. Miller had wanted to start the fire without lighter fluid.

“It’s cheating,” he’d said, kneeling by the stone circle with his cigarette lighter. He tried to coax the burning embers into a flame, stacking the wood in complicated geometric shapes. You had to let air in, he explained, but not too much or the fire would blow out. You had to find a perfect symmetry, because the same air that gave life had the capacity to destroy it. JT grew tired of waiting. He borrowed a can of lighter fluid from a few pits over.

“Just a little bit,” Miller said before JT doused the wood. The flames leapt and the girls screamed. JT just laughed.

“Fuck!” he kept saying. “You see how high that went?”

Miller eased off the ground, brushing sand from his knees. He looked disappointed.

“It’s okay,” Aubrey said. “You almost had it.”

He smiled at her but with all lips, no teeth. She’d put her engagement ring back on after she’d taken it off to play volleyball and Miller had noticed it. She sat next to Nadia on a big log, both wrapped in their blanket. The night air was chilly and they scooted close together, sharing a bottle of Heineken. She rested her head against Nadia’s shoulder, suddenly nostalgic for the summer they’d spent together, the car rides and movies, the hours swinging in Mr. Turner’s hammock. She was getting married and Nadia was returning to the Midwest. Would they ever spend time like that together again? Could you be nostalgic for a friendship that wasn’t over yet or did the fact that you were nostalgic mean that it already was?

Across the fire pit, JT plopped onto the sand. “Sure wish someone would cuddle with me,” he said.

“Don’t look at me,” Miller said.

They shoved each other and the girls laughed. Later, the Marines would return to the barracks or maybe patrol the movie theater, looking for new girls. But for now, it was enough to pretend that they were all friends, that they would all see each other again. Miller gave Aubrey a pained smile.

“Enjoying the end of your freedom?” he said, nodding at her ring.

She didn’t say anything, but she felt like she hadn’t entered into her freedom yet.

“The end,” JT scoffed. “Hell, I’m just waiting for something to happen.”

He was quiet for a moment. The fire was dying, and Miller tossed another handful of cardboard scraps to feed the flames. Then JT grinned, hopping to his feet.

“I’m tired of just sittin’ here,” he said. “Let’s go for a swim.”

JT peeled off his shirt, tossing it into the sand, and shucked his flip-flops into his hands. He took off for the pier, yelping as he sprinted toward the water.

“Come on,” Aubrey said.

“Are you crazy?” Nadia said. “That water’s freezing.”

“I don’t care.”

She pulled Nadia off the log, their blanket falling into the sand. She dragged her past the fire, then they were running, half laughing, half screaming through the damp sand to the pier. Once she’d leapt off, crashing into the cold water, she thought about how her sister would kill her if she knew. She would lecture her about quadriplegics who’d landed in shallow water and shattered their vertebrae. But she’d jumped and nothing bad had happened. Another cold wave hit her, soaking the shorts she hadn’t bothered to take off. JT floated around them in circles. Nadia laughed, her hair turning curly, and Aubrey threw her head back, floating under the moonlight. On the shore, Miller stood alone, leaning against the concrete restroom, his shirt in his hand. She stumbled out of the water.

“Why’re you standing out here by yourself?” she said.

“Because you’re all crazy,” he said. “I’m not jumping off that thing.”

“Why? You scared?”

“Of dying?” he said. “Yes.”

He had fought in a war. He had killed people, or if not, he had been trained how to. He had lived with death, so he knew there was nothing brave in not fearing it. The only people who didn’t were those stupid enough to not know the reality of it.