Page 31 of Whispers on the Water

Looking out at the ocean, a perfect wave crashes, and I ask, “What do you want to do?”

“Just surf,” she says, her voice strained, the confidence gone. My heart sinks. Maybe I was wrong, and Tommy does see Tilly more like a sister. But that thought almost makes me laugh. Tommy’s affection for Tilly is clear as day; he’s as smitten as ever. There’s no possible way; I’ve read that situation wrong. But she’s determined to handle it herself, and I have to respect that.

“Let’s go then. I’ll buy you some food afterwards. Tommy can handle the surf shack for a few hours.”

Just mentioning his name seems to sadden her more. I want to throw my arms around her and give her a suffocating squeeze, but instead, I hit her in the shoulder. “Come on, Til! Surf and gallos pintos!” At the mention of her favorite food, she finally smiles.

Without waiting for her answer, I sprint towards the waves. Behind me, I hear her laughter, and soon, she’s racing beside me, both of us heading for the ocean across the street.

Chapter twenty

Sam

Three Weeks Later

I’m standing at the payphone, dialing my sister’s number for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s been weeks since we last talked—far too long for comfort. The last update I had was about my nephew being sick in the hospital. Part of me hopes that she’s not avoiding me on purpose. Maybe the family simply went on vacation. But somehow, I just know that’s not the case.

After endless ringing, someone finally answers. “Hello?”

I try to swallow the lump of emotion in my throat. “Good morning, may I please speak with Mrs. Bennet?”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end. “This is her.”

“Hello Mrs. Bennet, my name is Claire and I’m with AT&T. I’m just calling to see if you’re currently happy with your wireless service?” It’s the first time she’s answered in weeks, and the words are pouring out like the scripted mess they truly are.

Silence, then shaky breathing. “I can’t today, Elaine. I’m sorry.” I can tell she’s going to hang up, and panic rushes through me.

“No wait! What’s going on?” My heart’s racing now. She used my real name. An absolute deal breaker. In any other situation, I would hang up. But there’s too much unknown. The tightness in her tone, as if she’s holding in a sob, tells me I can’t hang up.

Then, a flood of tears comes through the phone. I grip it tighter, my hands trembling. “Please Penny. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Clark, he’s getting worse, and they think it’s his liver.” Her words hit a wipe out on a reef.

“What are they going to do?” My voice barely comes out.

“They’re doing some tests. But Elaine, it’s so awful, he has to lay under these blue lights all day and I can’t even pick him up!” Penny’s sobbing, and I switch the phone to my other ear, fighting back my own tears.

“What can I do?” I’m desperate to help. Even being in Costa Rica. If she needs money, or… hell, if I know. But I can’t do nothing.

“Come home! I need you, damnit,” she yells, her voice breaking.

I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I can’t, you know that.”

“You can. I’ll tell them everything about Kevin. I swear to you, we’ll get the best lawyers, and we’ll get you out of this. Please Elaine,” she pleads.

But I’m already shaking, tears streaming down my face. “I have to go, Penny. I’ll check in tomorrow, okay?” I don’t wait for her to reply; I just hang up, slamming the receiver down.

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself but my entire body is trembling. Penny has never asked me to come home before. Never. Deep down, I know it’s because she’s still protecting me. Even after eight years, she’s trying to keep me safe. If she’s asking me to come home, things are more dire than I want to admit. My chest is rising and falling rapidly, but I can’t move. My eyes are glued to the old, ugly blue phone.

“Hey!” Greg’s voice comes from across the street. Fear sets in—I can’t let him see me like this. I frantically wipe away my tears.

By the time he jogs over, I’ve managed to force a smile. We’ve been inseparable since the dinner cruise, spending our days surfing, flirting, and just being together. Yet, we haven’t moved past that; there’s still been no physical intimacy other than our long, passionate make-out sessions. Strangely, it hasn’t bothered me. Getting to know him has become the highlight of my day.

“Morning,” I manage, but he’s already studying me, concern etched on his face.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just drama at home. What’s up?” I try to deflect.

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