Absorbed

Chapter Twenty-Six

S tacey felt someone rubbing her shoulder and the bedsheet twisting in response.

“Hey Stacey,” her mom whispered, “wake up for a sec. There’s something I want to talk about before I leave for work.”

Stacey rolled over and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty. I have a client at eight.”

Stacey blinked, calculating the hours. She had slept nine-and-a-half straight. She hadn’t slept that much in almost a month. She pushed herself up then leaned against the wall, yawning. Murphy jumped on the bed and laid her head in Stacey’s lap.

Stacey’s mom held the folded newspaper up for Stacey to see. “ The Sun reported on what happened Saturday. I wondered if you’d want me here when you read it?”

Stacey rubbed Murphy’s soft, floppy ear between her fingers. “Is there something in there about who they think is at fault for Jessie’s accident?”

“No. It just says there’s an ongoing investigation.” Her mom bit the side of her lip. “There is a picture of Jessie, though. In the hospital.”

Stacey took a deep breath and reached for the paper. “I think I’ll be alright. I might look at it after I have some breakfast.”

Her mom handed her the paper, then stood and kissed Stacey on the forehead. “I love you, Doodle Bug. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too, Mom. Have a good day.”

A few minutes later, Stacey sat on the couch with her cup full of Pops!, and the top half of the weekly newspaper’s front page visible across her lap. The headline read “From Community Engagement to Catastrophe.”

Stacey slurped cereal and took in the two large black-and-white photos. The first was of Bob holding up his stopwatch with the gold-coin necklaces, the crowded pool behind him. The second showed a “POOL CLOSED” poster board sign, hanging crooked on the locked chain link fence, and the empty facility in the background. Mylar balloons, prayer candles, and bouquets of flowers were scattered along the base of the fence. People had written notes on the poster board, messages too small for Stacey to read.

She set the cereal cup aside unfinished and flipped the paper over to read the article.

Jessie’s senior yearbook photo smiled up between the columns of text next to a photo of him lying in a hospital bed. There was a large metal halo attached to Jessie’s head, and a brace around his shoulders and neck. His forehead was bandaged above stitches on the top of his nose and two black eyes. Stacey chewed the dry skin off her bottom lip.

In the lower right corner was a photo of a much younger Mr. Henderson in a Navy uniform. Despite the thinner cheeks and neck, the solemn look in his eyes was the same Stacey had seen during his many visits to the pool. The photo caption read: “Petty Officer Henry Allen Henderson, 1942. Obituary, pg. 6.”He looked like he was about the same age as Jessie at the time the photo was taken.

The article recounted Saturday morning’s Plunge Olympics events. “Just the kind of wholesome activity our town needs to be offering,” one father was quoted as saying. “For only $6, our family got an experience we’ll never forget,” a mother told the reporter after “her family won the gold in the family relay race.” The article noted that the pool was closed for the remainder of the week, and it was unclear whether the Plunge Olympics would be rescheduled for a later date or when the pool would reopen.

The article included portions of the coroner’s initial report: “Mr. Henderson suffered a heart attack while swimming. The cardiac arrest likely contributed to food from his stomach being regurgitated and lodging in his throat. Despite the heroic efforts of the pool staff and paramedics, multiple factors contributed to Mr. Henderson’s drowning and subsequent death.”

The article went on to describe the aforementioned “heroic” efforts of the staff to save Mr. Henderson, including Jessie’s attempt and subsequent tragic accident as a result. It said “Assistant pool manager Mark Rosenthal acted quickly and professionally,” and that “First-year lifeguards Stacey Chapman and Melissa Phillips proved to be calm and collected given the severity of the situation.” The final paragraph stated that “The investigation into the circumstances involving the drowning and lifeguard’s injuries is ongoing.” They requested anyone with relevant information to contact city hall.

Stacey was turning the page to read Mr. Henderson’s obituary when Murphy sat up. The dog ran to the door, barking excitedly and wagging her tail, just before the doorbell chimed.

Stacey hesitated. She didn’t want to open the door wearing only a pair of boxers and a tank top with no bra. But Murphy’s enthusiasm assured Stacey the visitor was someone familiar. Maybe Greg left something behind on Sunday?

Stacey hollered, “Just a sec!” and wrapped the blanket from the couch around herself, running her fingers through her hair as she walked to the door.

She pulled it open and locked on the gentle, sea green of Gabe’s eyes. Murphy stopped barking and nudged the screen with her nose.

“Hi,” Stacey said.

“Can I come in?” Gabe asked.

Stacey nodded and pulled the front door open wider.

Gabe pulled the screen open and leaned down to give Murphy a scratch behind the ears. “Hey, Murph. I’ve missed you.” He looked Stacey in the eyes. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said to Stacey, then wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “My mom just showed me the Sun News . I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you call me?”

Stacey melted into his arms, closing her eyes and breathing in his familiar scent through his white T-shirt. “You said you needed space.”

Gabe tightened his embrace. Stacey’s arms expanded around his chest, her face against his heart, rising and falling with his breath. “I’m always here for you, when you need me. No matter what.”

Stacey pressed her cheek against his collarbone to wipe her tears away. “Are you on your way to work?” she asked, stepping back, shyly crossing her arms over her braless chest, and wiping her hand across her eyes.

Gabe shook his head. “I told them I was sick. I wanted to be able to hang with you as long as you needed. The pool’s closed, right?”

“It is….” Stacey looked over her shoulder and sneered at her living room, where she’d spent so much of the last few weeks curled up pathetically on the couch. “But, could we…maybe go somewhere else to hang out instead?”

“Sure. Anywhere,” Gabe said.

His grin was so reassuring, Stacey had to resist an urge to kiss him for always showing up when she needed him the most. “The beach?”

Gabe dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, rocking a little on the heels of his Converse. “The beach would be great.”

“Could you give me like thirty?” Stacey asked, biting her bottom lip.

“I’ll come back.” Gabe reached down and gave Murphy another firm pat on her side. “We could take Murphy with us.”

Stacey’s heart swelled. “She’d love that. Do you have any tennis balls?”

“In the garage. I’ll dig ‘em out.” Gabe’s dimple appeared in his right cheek as he backed out. “Don’t worry, Murph; I’ll be back.” The screen slammed shut.

Stacey closed the front door and rested her back against it. “Murphy, we get to go to the beach with Gabe. Mr. Wonderful. I really need your help so I don’t screw up today, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Stacey opened the door to Gabe’s three-knuckle knock. He held up a bag from Mr. Crumb’s donut shop, a Milk Bone, and two orange juices. “Breakfast?”

“Awesome!” Stacey said, leading Murphy on the leash out the screen door, and closing the front door behind her. “I’ll drive.”

Stacey had already thrown towels and a small ice chest with snacks in the trunk, covered her back seat with an old blanket, and brought an extra water bowl. She popped her seat forward to let Murphy jump in back. The dog spun around once, sniffing the back seat, before sitting proudly in the center.

Stacey rolled her window down, took the cinnamon twist from the bag, and started backing out of the driveway. “You’re the DJ on this road trip,” she told Gabe.

He held his bear claw in one hand and grabbed the book of CDs from under the passenger seat with the other. “What do you want to hear?” he asked, munching a too-big bite.

Stacey smirked and put the car in drive. “It’s not like Kevin and Bean are taking requests on KROQ.” She took a big bite, and imitated him talking with his mouthful. “I said you’re in charge of the music.”

“Don’t mock me, jackass.” Gabe elbowed her.

Stacey shoved another huge bite in her mouth and said, “Takes one to know one.”

By the time she pulled the Silver Bullet onto Mesa Valley Boulevard, Gabe had selected “When I Come Around” by Green Day. They sang along, while Murphy’s jowls flapped in the wind, her drool dripping on the side window the full five miles to the freeway.

As Stacey turned onto the onramp, she rolled up the windows and turned on the AC.Murphy curled onto the seat and closed her eyes.

Gabe left the album to play, but turned the volume down. “So, are you ready to talk about the accident at the pool?”

Stacey exhaled. “Yeah. I’ve actually had to talk about it a lot. I had to give my testimony to a lawyer at city hall yesterday.”

“Really? What did they ask?”

“Everything from when I arrived in the morning until the coroner left with the body Saturday afternoon, basically. Plus, the lawyer wanted to know about all of our ‘procedures’ and ‘protocols’.” She mock-imitated the lawyer.

“I can’t imagine,” he said.

“If you read the article, you know what most everyone else knows. It was a crazy morning. Way too many people. And we expected it was going to be a crazy afternoon, too.” She used her blinker and looked over her shoulder before moving into the carpool lane. “But Jessie’s accident actually happened during lap swim, when it’s normally slow and boring. Bob went to city hall. By the time he got back, an ambulance was rushing Jessie to the hospital and a paramedic declared Mr. Henderson’s time of death.”

Stacey hadn’t decided yet how much she wanted to tell Gabe. Now, or ever. He was turned toward her and his undivided attention made her uneasy, but she decided that, like the lawyer, there were things that didn’t need to be shared. At least…not yet.

“That sounds terrible, Stace. I wish I’d known sooner. I’m so sorry.”

She gripped the steering wheel harder. “You went on a trip.” Stacey gave Gabe a small smile as she looked over her right shoulder and made her way to the 91 Freeway interchange. “Tell me about it.”

He faced the road. “The Grand Canyon. It was beautiful out there. So quiet. Untouched, you know? No one around for miles. We hiked and camped, carried everything in backpacks, hiked like twelve miles a day.”

Gabe rubbed his quads. They peeked out from his black and blue striped boardshorts, and his legs were more tan and more defined than before the trip.

“We’d set up camp next to the Colorado River so we could wash off and have water to cook with. Some nights we just rolled out our sleeping bags and fell asleep staring up at millions of stars.”

“Sounds incredible.” Stacey sensed that if Gabe asked anyone to watch a meteor shower with him, they would really be watching the stars. Gabe always meant everything he said.

“Mom stayed at a condo in Oceanside with her sister. She loved having a two-week break from us.”

Gabe flipped through the CD organizer. He ejected Dookie and replaced it with Yellowcard . He turned the volume dial up until “Ocean Avenue” filled the car. They sang along at the top of their lungs, bouncing in their seats.

Murphy slept peacefully, oblivious to their karaoke session.

An hour-and-a-half later, Stacey turned into the lot a half mile north of the Huntington Pier. Murphy jumped to her feet, caught a glimpse of dogs running on the sand, and started whining and panting, beating the seat back with her tail enthusiastically.

“Alright, alright.” Stacey grabbed the end of the leash and opened the car door. Murphy squeezed between the seatbacks and into the driver seat before Stacy’s feet were even planted on the asphalt.

“You have me to thank, you know, Murphy,” Gabe chided. “Stacey would have left you at home.”

Stacey’s mouth fell open in mock indignation. “Don’t feed my dog your lies.”

“She’s gonna love me even more when she sees this.” He grinned, pulled a tennis ball from his pocket, and waved it above the top of the car.

Stacey scowled playfully at him. “She’s loyal to me. She won’t fall for your bribery.” She held the leash firm against Murphy’s pulling as she retrieved the towels from the trunk. “Grab that ice chest.”

Murphy’s breath was raspy as she tugged against the leash, pulling them toward Dog Beach. Once their feet were on the sand, Stacy unclipped the leash, and Murphy ran happily over to another golden retriever. They wagged their tails like long-lost siblings and sniffed each other in circles. They ran toward the rock wall that was infested with ground squirrels. The dogs barked and dug under the rocks as the squirrels scampered out of sight.

Stacey and Gabe dropped their flip-flops, towels, and ice chest near the rocks, and whistled for Murphy as they made their way to the shore. It was late morning, but there was still a light haze of the marine layer over the water, obscuring the view of Long Beach and Catalina in the distance. They walked along the damp sand, tossing the ball for Murphy every few yards, only for her to abandon the game of fetch in favor of sniffing seaweed.

“I’m so glad we did this,” Stacey said, her lungs filling with the cool, damp ocean breeze. “It’s been too long.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Gabe stopped and turned toward her. “But, to be honest,” he said, crossing his arms, “I was afraid we wouldn’t ever be able to hang out like this again.”

Stacey saw the hurt reflected in his eyes. “We should talk about the night of the party.”

Gabe nodded gently, his mouth twisting to one side.

“I made so many mistakes that night,” Stacey said, shaking her head and looking him straight in the eye. “This whole summer, really. I’ve acted like a jerk. And an idiot.”

“Umm, hmmm…” Gabe nodded again, his eyebrows high. “Go on.”

Stacey play-slapped his bicep. “Shut up. I’m trying to apologize.”

He grinned. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Can we sit, please?” Stacey pointed at dry sand nearby.

They walked over and sat beside one another, facing the water. Gabe dug his toes under the sand, his elbows resting on his bent knees.

Stacey sat crisscrossed and leaned forward, scooping the warm sand with her hands, feeling the grains slip through her fingers. She kept her eyes on Murphy as she spoke. “What I told you in your room about my night with Jessie was true. I wasn’t ready and he didn’t use protection. I was so scared and angry, and then embarrassed. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did. But I shouldn’t have said any of those things about him at the party. That was awful. I apologized to him and we talked about everything.”

Murphy trotted up between them and dropped the ball. Gabe chucked the ball into the white water for her. Murphy happily hopped over the rolling waves and scooped it into her mouth. She swam out a few feet before she returned to where they were seated. Murphy shook the salt water on them, then flopped down by their feet, panting.

Stacey lifted her knees and crossed her arms, resting her elbow on her knees and her chin on her forearm. “The drinking, smoking pot…getting trashed…that was completely stupid. At first, I felt nervous talking to so many people. When Melissa handed me a shot, I was glad to take it. But then it seemed like all those people liked me better when I was drinking and talking dirty, so I kept doing it until even I forgot who I was.”

“What people?” Gabe dug his heels deeper in the sand, a pile mounding under his feet. “That’s what I can’t understand. Did you want Trent Stevenson to like you before that night?”

“God no! And I still don’t!” Stacey turned toward Gabe, tucking one leg under her. “I can’t thank you enough for rescuing me from him. He’s a total asshole.”

“That’s about the nicest thing I would call that guy.” Gabe clenched his jaw. A muscle on his cheek twitched.

A loud dog barked behind Stacey and she glanced over to see Murphy still panting, unbothered.

“Did you hear what Travis and his buddies did?”

“The marker on Trent’s forehead? I heard.” Gabe tossed a seashell toward the water like a mini frisbee. “Fucker got off easy, if you ask me.”

“What you did… Gabe, I don’t know how to thank you for taking care of me that night.” Stacey looked down at her hands, pushing her cuticles back with her thumbnails. “I shouldn’t have put myself in that position, and I feel terrible about everything you had to do to take care of me. I wish I could make that whole night go away. Erase it from everyone’s memories.”

Gabe turned to look at her. “The thing is, Stacey, I’ve never been that afraid in my whole life.”

She could see in his green eyes that it was true. The sound of the waves crashing echoed between them.

He went on. “If Trent had actually hurt you, I think I might have killed him. Part of me wanted to knock on Jessie’s door and teach him a lesson, too, after you told me what happened with him. That much anger scares me. After the party, I was so worried about you and so furious with you at the same time. You got yourself into those situations.”

“I’m so sorry, Gabe. I wish I never put you through any of that.”

He looked back at the water. “Up until this summer, you and me…we always came first with each other. I think I took that for granted. Then something changed. At the concert maybe? I got the sense that the way things had always been between us wasn’t good enough for you anymore.”

Stacey’s stomach knotted. “Our friendship has always mattered to me,” she muttered.

“Then what happened?”

She was terrified of how Gabe might respond, but he deserved the truth. “I wanted you to want to be with me.”

Gabe nodded and looked at his hands. “I kinda thought so.”

Stacey’s heart sank. “If you hadn’t seen the article in the paper, do you think you would have called me?”

Gabe shrugged. “I really don’t know. Out there in the desert, I’d made peace with the fact that you were different now and we’d grown apart.”

“I’m not different,” Stacey said quietly, reaching over to rub Murphy’s side. “Not really. I don’t want to be the girl I was when I was with Jessie, or at that party, ever again.”

“I see that. When it’s just us, you’re still the old you.” Gabe had dug down to the damp sand, and scooped it into his hands, forming a ball. “I’ve thought about us before, too.” He rolled the ball of sand back and forth between his palms. “About us being TOGETHER, I mean. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”

“You have? I was sure you never thought of me like that.”

“Of course I do. We always had fun together. And you’re the kind of person who puts her mind to something and she accomplishes it. Like how one day you just decided you wanted to be a lifeguard. Next thing I knew, you were. I’m sure you’ll get into every college you apply to, and be great at whatever job you have someday. That’s what I love about you, and that’s the kind of person I want to be with. Someday.”

Stacey blushed at the compliment, but braced herself. Something else was coming.

The sand ball cracked in half. Gabe dropped it and wiped the sand from his hands. “I don’t want to be tied to the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with now. My parents did that. Fell in love in high school and got married way too young. Now they’re talking about separating.”

“Oh, my god, Gabe! I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”

“It’s been coming for a while. I think my dad’s going through a midlife crisis or something. That’s not the point. I’m talking about you and me. We’re kids, and I just want to let myself be a senior, and then in college, without thinking constantly about when I’m getting married or what my girlfriend will think of everything I do.”

“I don’t want that, either.” Stacey said. A large wave crashed and the ground trembled beneath her.

“Don’t you see? Things between you and me are already too intense. If we dated, we’d either break up and I‘d lose you forever, or we’d stay together forever and miss out on being young and free. Either way, it wouldn’t be good for us, not right now.”

Stacey stretched her legs out in front of her and rested back on her elbows, watching the waves. A seagull flew past, dipping down and landing on the water in the distance. “I guess I see that. The chances of us going to the same university are pretty slim. If we’re just friends, the distance will be easier.”

Murphy stood and stretched, then trotted toward a group of dogs surrounding a man with a frisbee.

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Gabe said, standing. He brushed the sand off his shorts then offered Stacey a hand to help her up. “I would never say we are ‘just friends.’”

Stacey took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “That’s not what I meant.”

They headed back in the direction of their towels, the ice chest, and Murphy, who was chasing the frisbee with a German shepherd and a beagle.

Gabe rested his forearm on Stacey’s shoulder as they walked. “Right now, I ‘just date’ people. But you are one of the most important people in my life. I hope you always will be. I love you, Stacey.”

Stacey stopped and looked up at him. “I love you too, Gabe.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head under his chin. “Thank you for always being my very best friend.”

Murphy snored the entire ride home. “I swear she’s smiling,” Gabe said.

“It’s the two hotdogs I bought her.” Stacey grinned.

“No way. She’s happy because she chased MY tennis ball in the surf for more than two hours. You made her walk up and down Main Street twice just to buy two stickers and not share your ice cream with her.”

Stacey shook her head. “I told you! Dairy gives her terrible gas. We could die of asphyxiation on the way home!”

“That sunset was great though. I’ll give you that.”

“Wasn’t it?” Stacey sighed. She thought about her art journal. She wanted to paint the sunset they’d seen in it, maybe even write a poem to capture the moment. “Hey, if I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh at me?”

Gabe turned to look directly at her. “You know I can’t promise that, Chapman, but I’ll do my best.”

“Nevermind.” Stacey put her elbow on the window frame and rested her cheek in her palm.

“Come on.” Gabe tapped Stacey’s arm. “I was kidding. You can tell me anything. You know that. But I’ll be serious now…” After a beat he patted her knee. “Tell me!”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay. Well, I’ve been taking art lessons with Ms. Moreno this summer.”

“What? You’ve been going to school?”

“Not really. It’s at night. Not like a real class for credits or anything. I just went a few times.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Gabe shrugged. “So…you’re thinking of doing art again?”

“I mean, I always liked it, ever since I was a little kid. But I never thought I could do anything with it, so it seemed like a waste if I wanted to go to a major university.”

“But that’s changed?” Gabe tilted his head, confused. “You think now there is something you want to do with art?”

Stacey smiled. “Yeah…I think so. Last night I was working on something in the art lab for a long time, and by the end Ms. Moreno said something that made me think about my art in a whole new way.”

“What way is that?”

“I know it sounds weird, but for the first time ever, instead of thinking about what anyone else said or thought or did, or what I should be or do because of what the rest of the world might think—I just created what I wanted, for me, with no intention of ever showing it to anyone. And it felt so good .”

“You lost me.” Gabe threw up his hands. “So now you want to do art, but never show it to anyone?”

“Not exactly.” Stacey laughed. “That’s the thing. Once I tuned out all those other people’s opinions, I finally made something I’m kind of proud of. Ms. Moreno thinks I might be able to make it into a song.”

“I thought you said it was art.”

“Yeah, it was, at first. The art led to me writing this poem, and the poem could maybe be a song. I want to do art because I think it maybe opens my mind up to write lyrics. Maybe I want to be a songwriter. Is that totally crazy?”

Gabe’s face lit up. “I don’t think it’s crazy at all. You know more about music than anyone. Can I read it?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “I think I want to show it to you when we get back to my house. To see what you think. But you have to promise you won’t make fun of me if it’s totally lame.”

“Stacey, you are one of the smartest, most talented people I know. If you want me to read it, I know it won’t be lame. What’s the poem called?”

“It’s called ‘Out of the Blue.’”

Gabe smiled. “I like it already.”