The Wish(39)

“Busy,” she said. She hung her coat on the rack. “I spoke to your parents and it’s fine if Maggie wants to join you tomorrow. They said they’d meet us at the church on Sunday.”

“Thank you for speaking with them. And for agreeing.”

“My pleasure,” she said. Then, to me, she added, “And after church on Sunday, we’ll go shopping, okay?”

“Shopping?” Bryce asked automatically.

My aunt caught my eye for only a split second, but she knew what I was thinking. “Christmas gifts,” she said.

And just like that, I had a date.

Kind of.

*



The following morning I slept late and for the sixth day in a row, my stomach felt fine. That was definitely a plus, which was followed by another surprise when I undressed before getting into the shower. My…bust was definitely larger. I’ll admit I used the word bust instead of the one that had originally popped into my head, because of the crucifix hanging on the bathroom wall. It was, I figured, the word my aunt would have used.

I’d read that would happen, but not like this. Not overnight. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been paying close attention and they’d been growing without my being aware of it, but as I stood in front of the mirror, I thought I suddenly looked like a miniature Dolly Parton.

On the downside, I noticed that my once-small waist was already beginning to go the way of Atlantis. Examining myself from the side, I was both bigger and wider in the mirror. Though there was a scale in the bathroom, I couldn’t work up the courage to check how much weight I’d gained.

For the first time since Bryce had started tutoring me, I had the house to myself for most of the day. I probably should have used the quiet to catch up on homework, but I decided to go to the beach instead.

After bundling up, I found the bike beneath the house. I was a little wobbly as I got going—it had been a while—but got the hang of it within a few minutes. I pedaled slowly in the cold wind and when I reached the sand, I propped the bike against a post that indicated a walking path through the dunes.

It was pretty at the beach, even if it was entirely different from the coast in Washington. Where I was used to rocks and cliffs and angry waves shooting plumes of water, there was nothing but gentle swells and sand and sawgrass. No people, no palm trees, no shuttered lifeguard stands or homes with oceanfront views. As I walked the empty stretch of shoreline, it was easy to imagine that I was the first to have ever been there.

Alone with my thoughts, I tried to picture what my parents were doing. Or would be doing later, because it was still early there. I wondered whether Morgan would be practicing the violin—she did that a lot on Saturdays—or whether she’d go shopping at the mall for gifts. I wondered if they’d gotten the tree yet or if that was something they would do later today or tomorrow or even next weekend. I wondered what Madison and Jodie were up to, whether either of them had met a new guy, what movies they’d gone to see lately, or where—if anywhere—they were going for the holidays.

Yet, for the first time since I’d left Seattle, the thoughts didn’t make me ache with a sadness that felt overwhelming. Instead, I realized that it had been the right decision to come here. Don’t get me wrong—I still wished none of this had ever happened—but somehow I knew that my aunt Linda was exactly what I needed at this time in my life. She seemed to understand me in a way that my parents never had.

Maybe because, just like me, she always felt alone.

*



After I returned to the house, I showered and stuffed the things I would need for church in one of the duffel bags I’d brought from Seattle, then spent the rest of the day reading various chapters in my textbooks, still trying to catch up and hoping that some of the information would stick in my head long enough for me to be able to complete the homework without having to do the extra problems that Bryce would no doubt concoct.

Aunt Linda returned at two—Saturdays were shorter days at the shop—and made sure that I’d packed everything else I needed but had forgotten, from toothpaste to shampoo. Afterward, I helped her set up the nativity scene on the fireplace mantel. As we worked, I noticed for the first time that her eyes were the same as my dad’s.

“What are your plans tonight?” I asked. “Since you’ll have the place to yourself?”

“Gwen and I are going to have dinner,” she said. “We’ll play gin rummy afterwards.”

“That sounds relaxing.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a pleasant evening with Bryce and his family as well.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“We’ll see.” The way she said it while also averting her eyes made my next question automatic.

“Do you not want me to go?”

“You two have spent a lot of time together already this week.”

“Tutoring,” I said. “Because you thought I needed it.”

“I know,” she said. “And while I agreed that you could go, I do have concerns.”

“Why?”

She adjusted the figurines of Mary and Joseph before answering. “It’s sometimes easy for young people to…lose themselves in feelings of the heart.”

The words she’d used—both old-fashioned and nunlike—took me a few seconds to process, but I felt my eyes widen. “You think I’m going to fall for him?”