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"I'll see you soon, angel."
I circle the block once and park in the back row of an adjacent lot, where I can still see her but she'd have to strain to pick me out of the crowd of cars. She spends some more time on the beach, walking, with her golden hair blowing in the wind, seemingly lost in thought. After about an hour, she heads back towards her vehicle, a small red Honda parked right in front of Sage and Salt.
It's not too late, and the sun is just starting to set, so I know Leon and Marissa are closing up inside. Both of them are keyholders, and the shop usually runs without my intervention most days. I watch my angel load her backpack into her car and slide in behind the wheel. I have no idea where she's headed, but I'm not done with her yet. I need to see more.
I start the engine as she pulls out of the parking lot, and follow her at a safe distance. We drive around town for a few minutes. After a while, she makes a right onto a main street, and then another left. Wherever she's headed, it's on the outskirts of the town, where the wealthiest residents live. The houses here are old but grand, and a little more secluded.
Eventually, she pulls into a driveway and parks. I keep driving and then double back, passing her house at a much slower speed. It's a Victorian, blue with a white trim. So she is a local or at least someone who moved here recently. How in the hell have I never seen her before?
I make a note of the address and pull around the block, parking out of view of the house but still close enough to see if the lights come on. There are no other cars, and I'm struck by a jolt of alarm that she’s staying in this enormous house all on her own. It isn't safe, even in a town like Cape May. She needs someone to watch over her.
Someone like me.
"This is insane," I mutter but don't turn my car around. The angel is mine. It might take me a minute to convince her and to show her just how well I can take care of her, but she'll soon see the light.
3
ALINA
The sunset colors the sky like fire, and even though it's almost dark and I should probably go inside, I don't move. I don't want to miss a single moment of the view. I inhale deeply, taking the salt air into my lungs while the wind caresses my cheeks.
I wonder if Mom would have liked it here. I don't even know if she would’ve seen the ocean in her lifetime. The thought makes my stomach clench, and I swallow the lump in my throat, but the tears that spring to my eyes won't stop coming.
When I was a child, my mother was everything to me. She was smart, funny, and fierce. Even though my father had left when I was young, my mom's job as a hotel maid kept us afloat. Everything was fine. Until it wasn't.
My mother had grown distant. At first, I thought it was because she was working so hard. But one day, when I came home from school and found her lying in a puddle of her own vomit, I realized something was seriously wrong.
That night, when I found her motionless in the tub and called for help, I learned the truth. My mother was an addict. She stole from her job to feed her habit and was finally caught. Fired.
At fourteen years old, I had already been babysitting since I was old enough, with a little nest egg tucked away. I would have given it to her in a heartbeat. But instead, she tried to steal it, and I hid it. She yelled at me, screamed that I was a thief and that I didn't have the right to take anything from her, even though I'd earned every penny.
From that day forward, it was like my mother was a stranger.
I loved her, but she was gone.
There wasn't a single time in the last ten years that I had thought about her and smiled. But right now, all I can think is that I wish she had lived long enough to see a view like this. That she could have known the kind of strength and freedom that comes from living by the sea. As bitter as I've been at my father for the majority of my life, I wonder if the story Mom told of him leaving because of some mid-life crisis is false. Could it be that he left because of Mom's addiction? Maybe he just couldn't take it anymore. He shouldn't have left me with her, but...
We need to talk when he gets back from California. Badly.
I dash the tears off my face and shake my head. It's time to head back to my new home and make something for dinner. I've promised myself over and over again not to dwell on my mother, and I don't plan to start now.
It isn't until I bend to pick up my bag from the sand that I feel the sensation of eyes on me. The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I rub at it unconsciously. Could it be him again?
When I first left Sage and Salt and walked across the street here to the beach, I was so sure the mysterious man from earlier had followed me. I turned and saw someone watching me, but it was too far to tell any details. But his clothes and his silhouette were so familiar. I knew in my bones that he followed me from the cafe.
But when I continued to stare, he left. Even if it was him, he didn't deem me important enough to approach. I tried to let the thought go, but now I'm having that same sensation.
What the hell is going on?
The wind picks up and my hair whips across my face. I turn slowly to look at the street that runs along the edge of the beach.
No one.
A shiver runs through me and I pull my jacket tight, hurrying to my car and throwing the bag in the backseat. Then I start the engine and drive away.
Why would someone be watching me? The thought, on the surface, freaks me out. But if it’s the man from the cafe, I'm way less scared, which is a stupid thought. He's still a stranger! But he looked at me in such a way that felt like I was already his. Like we weren't strangers at all.
What's going on in my head?
