rock by Anyta Sunday

Author:Anyta Sunday [Sunday, Anyta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00NAHCZQC
Published: 2014-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

* * *

A month later, Jace is at his piano, pounding out sharp, violent pieces, surging his anger into the instrument. Waiting. Waiting for Lila to come home.

The music snatches my breath, all the way from the kitchen where I sit with Annie, staring into my empty cup.

Annie lifts the teapot to pour me some more when the familiar sound of the door opening stops her. We edge out to the arched doorway, pausing there as Dad steps inside with Lila. They are both smiling today.

“Jace!” Dad yells, and the music stops abruptly. Seconds later, the stairs are groaning under his impatient gait.

Lila beckons us nearer and we flock to her.

“Things are looking good for surgery soon,” Dad says, and kisses Lila’s cheek with a smack. “We’re positive about the progress. So are the doctors.”

Jace steals closer and wraps his mum into a hug. Annie and I join in until we are one big lump of warm wishes. Jace twists his head and captures my gaze; the tension he’s held over the last months is still there, but a hopeful smile brackets one side of his lips.

“I made some tea,” Annie says as we break apart.

“That would be lovely.” Lila and Dad follow her to the dining room.

“Cooper and I are going out for an hour,” Jace calls to them. “Do you need anything?”

They don’t.

Jace quietly gestures to follow him to the hatchback. Ten minutes later, we are strolling on the beach, enjoying the cool sand, beautiful seashells, crashing waves, shrieking seagulls, and the distant scent of fish and chips. Shells poke into my soles, assaulting me with sharp pangs that remind me I am not dreaming.

Jace picks up a beautiful paua shell. It shines as though the seas have been polishing it for decades, and the inside swirls with dazzling greens and blues.

“These are my favorite shells,” he says.

He passes it to me and I take it.

“What’s your favorite stone, Cooper?”

I laugh. “That’s like a parent choosing a favorite kid or something.”

“But what do you consider special? Diamond, maybe?”

“Diamond is the strongest, and I do like it. It’s pretty much a stone of optimism. No matter how you turn it, the light is always there.”

The shoes dangling from Jace’s shoulder start to slip, but I catch them before they hit the sand. “However,” I whisper, setting his shoes back on his firm shoulders, “my favorite stone is opal.”

Found in Australia where an enormous inland ocean used to be, opal is literally like touching a prehistoric ocean. As the ocean dried out, water seeped into the earth’s cracks weathering sandstone and making a silica-rich environment for my favorite stone to form.

“I know it’s an Aussie stone,” I say, grinning, “but don’t hate me. I really like them.”

Jace scowls. “Traitor.”

“And greenstones,” I add hurriedly before I’m revoked of my Kiwi status. “Of course.”

He laughs and strokes his hook. “Next you’ll be telling me your favorite animal is the Koala.”

“Well . . .”

He shakes his head.

We continue the length of the beach. At the end, we dip out toes into the water.

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