Memories in Sea Glass: Driftwood Key Beach Reads #2

19. Glory

Early in the morning on the Fourth of July, Glory slipped downstairs to start her day.

She figured everyone else would be sleeping in, but she was so used to being up early for work at the resort that it was almost impossible to sleep past dawn lately.

And she hadn’t really slept well anyway. She’d tossed and turned with nightmares of Tristan and Tiffany laughing at her at the Fourth of July events in town. They were only silly dreams, but she still woke up with her heart pounding and her cheeks burning with shame.

She padded into the kitchen, deciding to make some toast and go for a walk on the beach.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Mom said softly from behind the counter. “I was just making coffee. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” Glory said, sitting across from her. “You’re up early.”

“I guess I was excited about the big day,” Mom laughed. “I remember the Fourth of July parades from when I was a kid. I always used to decorate my bicycle.”

“No way,” Glory laughed. “Did you do the race, too?”

“Sure,” Mom said, nodding with a fond smile. “I never won, but it was fun. My mom used to cheer for me like it was the Olympics or something.”

Glory’s heart ached at the idea of not having a mother anymore. She tried not to think of the fact that she was only seventeen and already down to one parent.

“You okay?” Mom asked.

“I’m fine,” Glory said quickly.

“You seemed a little down yesterday,” Mom said quietly.

Her eyes were fixed on the empty mug in her hands, as if she wanted to give Glory space. Maybe that was the reason Glory decided to share, though she had never really wanted to talk much about boy stuff with her mom before. She tried to think of a nice way to say it and then decided that it didn’t need to be said nicely. Her mom could handle it.

“Tristan dumped me,” she said simply. “It sucked, but I’m okay with it.”

“Oh, Glory,” Mom said. “I’m so sorry. It seemed like you guys were really getting to know each other.”

“Well, I feel like I know him a lot better now,” Glory said bitterly, then felt bad about it. “We just want different things.”

“He’s a year older, isn’t he?” Mom asked thoughtfully. “Is he thinking about going off to college?”

“That and, well, getting physical,” Glory said, shaking her head and feeling super weird talking to her mom about this.

“I see,” Mom said, nodding, her lips pressed together.

Glory almost laughed at her mother’s studiously neutral expression.

“Don’t worry,” Glory said. “That’s not what I want. And he’s with someone new who seems more… open-minded about that kind of thing.”

“That was quick,” Mom said indignantly.

“I know, right?” Glory moaned. “I guess he didn’t like me as much as I liked him.”

“Boys his age are fickle,” Mom said wisely. “And he’s probably nervous about college. You’ll find someone who looks at things the way you do, and things will fall into place.”

“Like they did for you and Dad?” Glory asked sarcastically.

“Hopefully,” Mom said, shrugging and not seeming to notice Glory’s tone.

“Seriously?” Glory said, feeling angry all over again. “You don’t even care about what he did?”

“Glory,” Mom said, placing one hand over hers. “Your father and I spent a lifetime together. And he made me happy for so many years. We had three wonderful children, and we shared so many beautiful memories. He got scared at the end and made a pretty horrible judgement call. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him. And it doesn’t mean I can’t forgive him.”

She had an odd expression on her face, like she was realizing how she felt as she said it.

“Well, I’m glad you can forgive him,” Glory said. “I’m still on the fence.”

Mom opened her mouth and closed it again.

She was thinking about Anthem. Glory was sure of it.

“I’ll get over Tristan,” Glory said, hoping to avoid the subject before it could come up. “I just need to take a little time to chill out on my own for a while.”

“You’re going to the Fourth of July festival in town with us, right?” Mom asked, looking concerned.

“I don’t know,” Glory said. “I don’t think I’m up for seeing Tristan out there with his new girl, or anyone else who might decide to ask me about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Mom said. “But I don’t want to leave you here all alone when you’re feeling down. Maybe Liberty can drive the others in, and you and I will stay here and watch chick flicks.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Glory laughed. “I’m almost eighteen. And I’m going to be sad sometimes. Besides, you love the Fourth of July, so you can’t stay home.”

“I had been planning to cut things short at the festival today to run over and help Mary get ready for the potluck,” Mom said thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t want to spend the day with her, would you? Or part of it?”

Glory thought of sweet Mary McKinnon, with her warm hugs and comforting cooking and had to smile. Mary was always helping everyone else. It would be really nice to help her.

“Actually, I think I’d love that,” she said excitedly.

“Perfect,” Mom replied, getting up to grab her phone from the charger. “I’ll give her a call now.”

“Wait,” Glory said.

“What is it?” Mom asked.

“Does she really want help?” Glory asked, biting her lip. “You’re not just making her babysit me, right?”

“You know how big that family is, right?” Mom laughed. “You’ve seen what happens when the food comes out. That poor woman can use all the help she can get. Becca and I were both planning on stopping over a little early. But if you’re there all day, the rest of us can breathe easier.”

Glory nodded, feeling warmth spread in her chest at the idea.

An hour later,Glory found herself standing at Mary McKinnon’s kitchen sink, looking out the window into the garden as she rinsed a batch of fresh strawberries.

Mary stood at the counter beside her, cutting off the stems and slicing the berries for shortcake, her hands moving swiftly and surely.

Incredible smells filled the kitchen from the dishes Mary had already started by the time Glory arrived. The chain from the ceiling fan clicked gently overhead, and the radio was on low so that Glory could just hear a deejay narrating the events of the Fourth of July celebration over on Key West.

“It’s so peaceful,” she said.

“I’ve always loved this kitchen,” Mary agreed. “And there’s nothing cozier than cooking your favorite things with someone you love.”

She wrapped an arm around Glory’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Love you too,” Glory said, leaning against her gently.

“We don’t have to talk about it unless you want to,” Mary said after a moment. “But I did hear about your break-up.”

“I don’t mind talking about it,” Glory said. “But it brought something up for me that really made me think.”

“About the boy?” Mary asked.

“About me, actually,” Glory said, turning to her. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” Mary told her with a smile. “At times in our lives when we’re going through changes, it’s very normal to realize things about ourselves. That’s how we grow as people.”

Glory nodded and turned back to the berries. They were small and sweet, the red color accentuated by the cool water running over them.

“I wasn’t the nicest person,” she said quietly. “Before, at my old school, I mean. I was part of this group of girls, and we went around school like we were the queens of it.”

She could feel Mary nodding beside her.

“I guess I thought that my dad’s money made me better than other people,” she said. “Even though I never did anything to earn it.”

“You’re a wise girl to have figured that out at your age,” Mary said, nodding to herself. “Plenty of people go their whole lives without learning that particular lesson.”

“I don’t think I would have if he hadn’t left,” Glory said, shaking her head. “And when he did, it turned out those people weren’t really my friends after all. They were only friends with my status, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Mary said. “And I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Anyway, when I told my new friend down here that Tristan broke up with me yesterday, she said the most interesting thing,” Glory went on. “She said I would find someone more like me, someone who is sweet.”

“I’m sure she’s right,” Mary said firmly.

“But that’s the thing,” Glory said. “Back in Aynwick no one would ever have called me sweet. And it definitely wouldn’t have been the first word they would use to describe me.”

“You’re growing, Glory,” Mary said, turning to her with a radiant smile. “Doesn’t it make you feel proud?”

“Yes,” Glory said. “And ashamed at the same time, of how I used to be.”

“That’s your heart reminding you that this change was important,” Mary said. “And your conscience, helping you remember not to treat people unkindly again.”

Glory nodded, and looked down at her hands again, still washing the strawberries clean.

“I want to do more,” she said softly. “I don’t just want to be sweet. That’s too, I don’t know… passive? I want to actually do good things.”

“Like help your extra grandma make strawberry shortcake?” Mary asked with a smile.

“This doesn’t count,” Glory laughed. “I like being with you.”

“Me too, love,” Mary told her. “But that makes it even more helpful, because I don’t feel bad about having you here when you could be participating in the watermelon eating contest.”

“I would have dominated in that contest,” Glory joked, shaking her head.

“But Kyle always wins,” Mary chuckled.

“No way,” Glory said, thinking of Kyle. He was slim and fit, not someone she could picture winning any kind of eating contest.

“Hard to imagine what he does with it all,” Mary laughed. “But it’s a point of pride. So, I’m glad you’re not there to egg him on, or he wouldn’t be able to have any supper.”

“What would you do if you wanted to do good things?” Glory asked. “I was thinking about volunteering—maybe at the library, like Mom used to do in Aynwick.”

“That would be lovely,” Mary said. “There are so many organizations that can use help these days. But you don’t have to go far from home to make a difference.”

“What do you mean?” Glory asked.

“Well, of course I’m thinking about my own life,” Mary said. “But we all have moments where we can show a little grace to the folks around us. Like if we’re having trouble at the grocery store, we can choose to be kind to the check-out girl. Or if a friend says something thoughtless in a weak moment, we can choose not to judge them for it.”

“My mom is like that,” Glory said, nodding. “She’s a lot like you that way, I think.”

“Recently, Becca was driving me home from church and a young lady bumped into the back of her car at a stop sign,” Mary said. “There was barely any damage to Becca’s bumper, and she sent the girl along without even asking for her number. That child was weeping, and she promised she’d drive more carefully from then on. And I think she will.”

“That’s really nice,” Glory said. “But I guess being patient and kind is more of a character trait than an action, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes,” Mary said lightly.

“Anthem,” Glory realized out loud.

To her credit, Mary didn’t say a word, she just kept slicing strawberries while the fan clicked and the radio murmured and the cheesy potatoes in the oven filled the room with their heavenly scent.

“I have to forgive my sister,” Glory said.

The thought of it was heavy. She had always trusted Anthem implicitly. Her betrayal still hurt a lot.

“You don’t have to do anything at all,” Mary said simply.

But in her mind’s eye, Glory saw Anthem’s tearstained face and heard her apologizing over and over. And she felt ashamed when she thought of her own stony silence.

She was talking to him behind our backs, the angry little voice in the back of her head said indignantly, as it had so many times.

But when she stopped listening to that voice, Glory remembered that Anthem was the most loving of her sisters. She read funny picture books to Glory for hours on end when Glory was small, she begged their parents to take in every stray puppy or kitten they ever saw, and she cried over Glory when she skinned her chubby knees, as if it were her own tender heart that was bleeding.

Anthem couldn’t turn her back on him, she told the little voice. Her nature is too forgiving. It wouldn’t be fair for me to expect that of her.

She didn’t realize she had stopped washing strawberries until she felt Mary’s warm arms wrapped around her.

“I’m proud of you, love,” Mary told her softly. “You’re going to grow up to be the most wonderful person.”