The Wish Page 12

  “No worries,” he said. He took my strand and checked those lights as well. “How long have you lived in Seattle?”

  “Since I was born,” I said. “Same house. Same bedroom, in fact.”

  “I can’t imagine what that would be like. Until we got here, I moved pretty much every other year. Idaho, Virginia, Germany, Italy, Georgia, even North Carolina. My dad was at Fort Bragg for a while.”

  “I don’t know where that is.”

  “It’s in Fayetteville. South of Raleigh, about three hours from the coast.”

  “Still doesn’t help. My knowledge of North Carolina is pretty much limited to Ocracoke and Morehead City.”

  He smiled. “Tell me about your family. What do your mom and dad do?”

  “My dad works on the line at Boeing. I think he does riveting, but I’m not really sure. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I get the sense it’s the same every day. My mom works part-time as a secretary at our church.”

  “And you have a sister, right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Morgan. She’s two years older than me.”

  “Do you two look alike?”

  “I wish,” I said.

  “I’m sure she says the same thing about you.” His compliment caught me off guard, the same way it had in the morning when he’d told me I looked really nice. Meanwhile, Bryce retrieved an extension cord from the box. “I guess we’re ready,” he said. He plugged in the extension cord and attached the first strand of lights. “Do you want to lead or adjust?”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “Adjust, I guess.”

  “Okay,” he said. Gripping the tree, he gently scooted it away from the front window, making more space. “It’s easier to get around the tree this way. We can move it back when we’re finished.”

  Making sure the cord had enough slack, he began stringing the lights at the back of the tree, then circled to the front. “Just make sure there are no gaps or places where the lights are too close together.”

  Adjusting. Got it.

  I did as he asked; it wasn’t long before the first strand was at an end, and he plugged in the next one. We repeated the process, working together.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask what brought you to Ocracoke.”

  And there it was. The question. Actually, I was surprised it hadn’t come up earlier, and I thought back to the conversation I’d had with my aunt and the impossibility of secrets in Ocracoke. And that, as she noted, it would be best if the answer came from me. I took a deep breath, feeling a flutter of fear.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He was still bent over as he glanced up to face me. “I know. I meant why are you here in Ocracoke and not with your family?”

  I felt my mouth fall open. “You knew I was pregnant? Did my aunt tell you?”

  “Linda didn’t say anything. I just sort of put the pieces together.”

  “What pieces?”

  “The fact that you’re here but still enrolled in a school in Seattle? Because you’re leaving in May? Because your aunt was vague about the reason for your sudden visit? Because she asked for an extra cushy seat on your bike? Because you used the bathroom a lot today? Pregnancy was the only explanation that made sense.”

  I wasn’t sure whether I was more surprised by the idea that he’d figured it out so easily or the fact that there was no judgment in his tone or his expression as he said it.

  “It was a mistake,” I said in a rush. “I did something stupid last August with a guy I barely knew, and now I’m here until I have the baby because my parents didn’t want anyone to find out what happened to me. And I’d rather you not tell anyone, either.”

  He started wrapping the tree again. “I’m not going to say anything. But won’t people learn what happened when they see you walking around with a baby?”

  “I’m giving her up for adoption. My parents have it all figured out.”

  “It’s a her?”

  “I have no idea. My mom thinks it’ll be a girl because she says my family only makes girls. I mean…my mom has four sisters, my dad has three sisters. I have twelve female cousins and no males. My parents had girls.”

  “That’s cool,” he offered. “Aside from my mom, it’s all boys in our family. Can you hand me another strand?”

  The change in subject threw me. “Wait…don’t you have more questions?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. How it happened or whatever?”

  “I understand the mechanics,” he said, his tone neutral. “You already mentioned that it was a guy you barely knew and a mistake, and you’re giving her up for adoption, so what else is there to say?”

  My parents certainly had a lot more to say, but to his point, what did the details matter? In my confusion, I reached for another strand and handed it to him. “I’m not a bad person—”

  “I never thought you were.”

  He started going around the tree again; by then, the lights were halfway to the top.

  “Why doesn’t any of this bother you?”

  “Because,” he answered, still placing the lights, “the same thing happened to my mom. She was a teenager when she became pregnant. I guess the only difference was that my dad married her, and I eventually came along.”

  “Your parents told you that?”

  “They didn’t have to. I know their anniversary, and I know my birthday. The math isn’t hard.”

  Wow, I thought. I wondered if my aunt knew all this.

  “How old was your mom?”

  “Nineteen.”

  It didn’t seem like a significant age difference but it was, even if he didn’t say so. After all, at nineteen you’re a legal adult and not in high school anymore. Instead, once he finished with the next strand, he said, “Let’s step back and see how we’re doing.”

  From a distance, it was easier to see the gaps and other places where the lights were too close together. At the tree, we both adjusted the strands, stepped back, then adjusted some more, the scent of pine filling the room as the branches moved. Strains of Bing Crosby played in the background as flickering light fell across Bryce’s features. In the silence, I wondered what he was really thinking and whether he was as accepting as he seemed.

  Once we finished, we strung the lights on the top half of the tree. Because he was taller, he did pretty much everything while I stood and watched. When he was done, we both stepped farther away again and studied our accomplishment.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s pretty,” I answered, even though my mind was still a million miles away.

  “Do you know if your aunt has a star or an angel for the top?”

  “I have no idea. And…thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For not asking questions. For being so nice about the reason I’m in Ocracoke. For agreeing to tutor me.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Believe it or not, I’m glad you’re here. Ocracoke can get kind of boring in the winter.”

  “You don’t say.”

  He laughed. “I guess you’ve noticed that, huh?”

  For the first time since he’d arrived, I smiled. “It’s not all bad.”

  * * *

  Aunt Linda and Gwen showed up about a minute later and oohed and aahed over the lights before pouring glasses of eggnog. The four of us sipped while adding tinsel to the tree along with the ornaments and the angel for the top, which had been stored in the hall closet. It didn’t take long until the tree was finished. Bryce slid it back into place before adding more water to the base. Afterward, Aunt Linda plied us with cinnamon rolls she’d bought at the store, and though they weren’t as fresh as her biscuits, we ate them with gusto at the table.

  Even if it wasn’t terribly late, it was probably time for Bryce to go, since Aunt Linda and Gwen had to wake up so early. Thankfully, he seemed to realize it and brought his plate to the sink, then said goodbye before we started toward the door.

 
; “Thanks again for having me over,” he said, reaching for the knob. “That was a lot of fun.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant decorating the tree or spending time with me was fun, but I felt a surge of relief that I’d told him the truth about myself. And that he’d been more than kind about all of it.

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice quiet, the words strangely sounding like both a promise and an opportunity.

  * * *

  “I told him,” I said to Aunt Linda later, after Gwen had left. We were in the living room, moving the empty boxes to the hall closet.

  “And?”

  “He already knew. He’d figured it out.”

  “He’s…very bright. The whole family is.”

  When I set the box on the floor, my jeans pinched my waist and I already knew my other pants were even tighter. “I think I’m going to need some bigger clothes.”

  “I was going to suggest that we do some shopping after church on Sunday for just that reason.”

  “You could tell?”

  “No. But it’s about that time. I brought a lot of young pregnant girls shopping when I was a nun.”

  “Is it possible to buy pants that don’t make my situation so obvious? I mean, I know everyone’s going to know, but…”

  “It’s fairly easy to hide in winter because sweaters and jackets can cover a lot. I doubt anyone will see your baby bump until March. Maybe even April, and once it does show, you can always keep a lower profile then, if that’s what you want.”

  “Do you think other people have figured it out? Like Bryce did? And that they’re talking about me?”

  My aunt seemed to choose her words carefully. “I think there’s some curiosity about why you’re here, but no one has asked me directly. If they do, I’ll just tell them that it’s personal. They’ll know not to press.”

  I liked the way she was watching out for me. Gazing toward the open door of my room, I thought about what I’d read earlier in the Sylvia Plath book. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you ever feel like you’re all alone?”

  She lowered her gaze, an odd expression on her face. “All the time,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  * * *

  I’m not going to bore you with the details of that first week, because they were pretty much the same, varying only by subject. I finished rewriting my paper and Bryce had me rewrite it a second time before he was finally satisfied. I slowly but steadily began to catch up on my homework, and on Thursday, we spent most of the day studying for Friday’s geometry test. By then, I knew my brain would be too tired to take it after my aunt got back from work, so she came home from the shop to proctor the exam at eight the next morning, before Bryce arrived.

  I was pretty nervous. As much as I’d studied, I was terrified of making stupid mistakes or seeing a problem that might as well have been written in Chinese. Right before my aunt handed me the test, I said a little prayer, even though I didn’t think it would do any good.

  Fortunately, I thought I understood what most of the questions were asking and then worked through them step by step the way Bryce had shown me. Even so, when I finally handed it over, I still felt like I swallowed a tennis ball. I’d scored in the fifties or sixties on the previous tests and quizzes and couldn’t bear to watch my aunt as she graded it. I didn’t want to see her using the red pencil to cross things out, so I pointedly stared out the window. When Aunt Linda eventually brought the test back to me, she was smiling, but I couldn’t tell whether it was out of pity or because I’d done well. She put the test on the table in front of me, and after taking a deep breath, I finally had the courage to check.

  I hadn’t aced it. Didn’t even get an A.

  But the B I got was closer to an A than a C, and when I instinctively squealed with joy and disbelief, Aunt Linda held out her arms and I fell into them, the two of us hugging in the kitchen for a long time, and I realized how much I’d needed that.

  * * *

  When Bryce arrived, he reviewed the exam before handing it back to my aunt.

  “I’ll do better the next time,” he said, even though I was the one who had taken it.

  “I’m thrilled,” I said. “And don’t bother trying to feel bad, because I’m not going to accept it.”

  “Fair enough,” he responded, but I could still see it was bothering him.

  After Aunt Linda gathered up all my work—she shipped everything to my school on Fridays—and started toward the door, Bryce glanced at me, his expression uneasy.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” he said. “I know it’s kind of last-minute and that I have to ask your aunt, too, but I didn’t want to do that until I talked to you first. Because if you don’t want to, then there’s no reason to ask her, right? And, obviously, if she’s not okay with the idea, then no worries.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You know about the New Bern flotilla, right?”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Oh,” he said. “I should have guessed that. New Bern is a small town inland from Morehead City, and every year, the town hosts a Christmas flotilla. It’s basically a bunch of boats decorated in Christmas lights that float down the river like a parade. Afterwards, my family has dinner and then we visit this amazing decorated property in Vanceboro. Anyway, it’s an annual family tradition and it’s all happening tomorrow.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to come with us.”

  It took a couple of seconds before it dawned on me that he was asking me on something like a date. It wasn’t a real date since his parents and younger brothers would be with us—it would be more of a family outing—but because of the bungling, circuitous way he’d broached the subject, I suspected it was the first time he’d ever asked a girl to join him in anything. It surprised me because he’d always seemed so much older than I was. In Seattle, boys would just ask, Do you want to hang out? and be done with it. J hadn’t even done that much; he’d just sat down beside me on the porch and started talking.

  But I kind of liked the bungling overcomplexity, even if I couldn’t imagine anything romantic between us. Whether he was cute or not, the romance thing inside me had shriveled up like a raisin on a hot sidewalk, and I doubted whether I’d ever experience the feeling of desire again. Still, it was…sweet.

  “If my aunt says it’s okay, that sounds fun.”

  “There’s something else you need to know first,” he said. “We stay overnight in New Bern because the ferries don’t run that late. My family rents a house, but you’d have your own room, of course.”

  “Maybe you’d better ask her before she leaves.”

  By then, my aunt was already out the door and heading down the steps. Bryce chased after her, and all I could think was that he’d just asked me on a date.

  No…scratch that. A family outing.

  I wondered what my aunt would say; it didn’t take long before I heard Bryce coming back. He was grinning as he walked through the door. “She wants to talk to my parents and said she’d let us know this afternoon.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I guess we should get started, then. With tutoring, I mean.”

  “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Great,” he said, taking a seat at the table, his shoulders suddenly relaxing. “Let’s start with Spanish today. You have a quiz on Tuesday.”

  And like a switch had been thrown, he went back to being my tutor, a role that clearly made him more comfortable.

  * * *

  Aunt Linda returned to the house a few minutes after three. Though I had the sense she was tired, she smiled as she walked in and shrugged off her jacket. It struck me that she always smiled when she walked in the door.

  “Hi there,” she said. “How did it go today?”

  “It went well,” Bryce answered as he
gathered up his things. “How was it at the shop?”

  “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.