Alice Bliss - Laura Harrington [83]
They’re out of the woods now and climbing over a rise along a ridge of granite and moss. At the top of the ridge they can see the other side of the island and their destination: Sand Dollar Beach.
“Race you!” Dad calls out as he takes off down the trail. Of course he lets Alice catch up with him and pass him and then fakes running out of breath and falling behind. When she starts to slow down he runs circles around her.
“Come on, come on, come on! We’re almost there.”
And then there it is: a perfect crescent of a beach tucked away between the rocks and the trees. Deserted.
“Last one in is a rotten egg!”
He drops their backpack to the sand and pulls off his T-shirt and his hiking boots and pants and sprints into the water, jumping over the waves and then diving headfirst into a big breaker. He surfaces and swims hard for a few minutes before turning back to check on Alice. Who is stuck on the beach, one boot on, one boot off, trying to get a knot out of the lace of her left boot.
“I beat you!” Dad crows.
“There’s a knot!” she tosses back. “No fair!”
“Slowpoke!”
He flips over on his back and spouts water like a whale.
She tries wriggling the knot back and forth to loosen it up and finally gets it undone. She kicks her boot off, pulls off her T-shirt and her shorts, and heads down to the water.
She’s wearing her new red and white checked bathing suit and wondering if Dad will like it, when she steps into the water. How can it be so cold? Dad is out there lolling around like it’s a bathtub and the water is so cold it makes her teeth hurt.
“It’s cold!”
“Run. Don’t walk. Just go.”
She hesitates.
“Alice! Just go!”
She runs through the little waves and dives into the first big wave and swims underwater to her dad. She has her eyes open even though the salt stings, and she’s kicking as hard as she can and pulling with her arms with all her might. He picks her up and throws her into the water, over and over. With variations. Backward. Sideways. She stands on his legs and pushes off as he throws her. She stands on his shoulders and jumps in. She’s laughing and swallowing water and coughing and sometimes choking but always coming back for more.
That’s my girl, Matt thinks. Not afraid, not cold, not complaining, not hesitating. Jumping in.
They leave the water and lie down in the sand. They forgot towels. Mom would not have forgotten towels. But it doesn’t matter. They lie down in the sand side by side. Alice looks at the sun through her lashes and half-closed eyes, even though she’s not supposed to. It’s directly above them in a deep blue sky. She can hear the waves and the fir trees that line the shore moving in the wind. She can see the sun glinting, she can even see the sun when she closes her eyes. How can that be? She can hear her dad’s breathing change as he drops into sleep. And as her skin dries she feels it contract with the sun and the salt. She thinks she’s gonna get a burn. They forgot sunscreen. Mom would have remembered sunscreen, too. Alice thinks it’s nice to forget things sometimes. To lie in the sand with nothing but her dad and the sun and the water and the trees.
There’s a knock at the door, which startles her.
“Alice . . . ? It’s me. Henry.”
“It’s open,” she calls out to him.
Henry steps inside the workshop.
“I saw your light. You okay?”
It’s two o’clock in the morning and it turns out that Henry has been sitting up with her. She puts the flashlight on the floor; its beam casts a light across the workshop.
“Pull up a chair.”
Henry grabs the lawn chair, brings it near Alice, sits. He’s wearing old gray sweatpants that are too short, and an ancient sweatshirt that must have belonged to his brother. His hair is even more shaggy and rumpled than usual.
“I can’t sleep.”
“I figured.”
“I’ve been looking at pictures.”
She hands him the photo album.
“From when I was six.”
He opens it.
“That was my favorite bathing suit,” she says.
“I remember it.”
“You do?”
“You wore that in the sprinkler and when we went to the high school pool for our swim lessons.”
“I can’t believe