Dark Beach by Lauren Ash Page A

grinned at Kip.
    “It takes all kinds,” Jenny muttered.
    “Excuse me?” The boy said.
    “Nothing.”
    “Let us know if we can help you.”
    Jenny went after Kip, who had wandered off and discovered a bright-red rubber lobster.
    “Thank God you want that one.”
    “Yes.” Kip handed it over.
    “ This I can do.” Jenny paid and ushered Kip out as quickly as they had entered.
    “Come on. Let’s go home. It’s time to relax, honey—have some dinner, watch TV, maybe read a little.” Who are you trying to convince? her mind said.
    Kip was too busy admiring the lobster to acknowledge her. To calm herself, she took a deep breath and sat a moment before turning the key in the ignition. She was starting to feel out of it again. The jagged menace of teeth flashed in and out of her vision, their white contrasting the sudden swirl of black.
    “Come on, Jenny! Focus! Focus here,” she demanded of herself.
    It was a battle of wills—hers versus the whale’s.
    Come on, Jenny. Focus now. Focus. She tried to think of something else—some happy thought. This was not the place, not the time. Damn you, Ron! Where are you when I need you? She slammed her head down on the steering wheel. The pain—sharp in the middle of her forehead—helped.
    “Think of something else. Focus. ” she whispered again.
     
    * * *
     
    The dress was the most brilliant white—a sweetheart bodice sleek down to the waist, where it frou-frou-ed out in layers of puffy tulle.
    “I feel sick.” Jenny put a hand to her forehead.
    “Oh, nonsense! Here, have a glass of water. You’re going to be fine, sweetheart.”
    The mirror was small, narrow, but somehow Jenny—even slimmer back then—had managed to twirl all the way around to see the back.
    Her mother fastened a pearl necklace around her delicate neck and shellacked a few odd hairs back into Jenny’s French twist using hairspray.
     
    No! Not that ! Jenny came to, slipping back into the present again. You were too nervous then , too young. Something else. Think!”
     
    “Almost to the top.”
    Ron took Jenny’s hand. He was so strong . The earth was wet and muddy. She would have slipped if he hadn’t pulled her up the last few steps.
    They pushed through the ferns, through the trees, through the dark, damp forest that smelled of heaven.
    “We’re here. Look.” Ron slowed.
    The woods ended abruptly at a rocky cliff.
    “Don’t go any further, and don’t look down. Just look straight ahead.” Ron held her hand tight, as if for dear life.
    “Oh my.” There were no words for the view —the endless snowy peaks of the Cascade Mountains for miles and miles, gradients of blues and greys so breathtaking that Jenny felt like her soul itself was liberated. Suddenly, a ray of sun pierced the sooty, white-tipped curl of clouds, as if to greet them.
    They sat and ate plain cheese sandwiches and tasteless granola bars that seemed like manna.
     
    Jenny stayed there for a while, on that cliff in her mind, until she was calm enough to put the car in drive.
     
    * * *
     
    Later, with Kip in bed, she lit a fire in the hearth of the hex room. She liked it up there. The windows made the small space feel huge, open—free. And the fire made it that much cozier, its glow reflecting in the windows.
    The journals were piled next to her on the bed. They had been too enticing to pass up. She giggled as she took up the very bottom one. “Chronological order, maybe?” she murmured, opening to the first page.
     
    Damn this place! Damn this place here! And damn him.
     
    Jenny stopped reading and scratched her head. “Well, this is depressing.” She turned on her side, pulled the blanket up over her shoulder, and glanced at the torn-up paperback sitting on the pillow next to her—her back-up book. It was a romance.
    “So not in the mood for that.” She threw the book across the room, and it made a soft thud when it hit the floor. As her eyes followed its trajectory, she noticed a light out in the