Blind Side of the Moon

Nearly a week passed. Thankful she didn’t have the closing shift, Jane stepped out of Mackelroy’s Fish Hut at eight p.m. sharp, just before sunset. She hadn’t realized how stuffy the restaurant had become until the cooler evening air buffered against her skin. The day had been crystal clear and hot to the point of sizzling, but in another hour or so, she’d need long sleeves this close to the sea.

The neighboring shops had all closed for the day. Except for the occasional local passerby, it was quiet.

She’d come in early that day to help with some prep work before her usual waitressing shift, and she wrinkled her nose as she realized she still smelled like raw onions, garlic and fish. While she actually enjoyed eating those things, when mixed with perspiration from a long shift, they made for an especially rank perfume.

Jane rolled her tired shoulders a few times and dug her car keys out of her purse. She headed to the tiny, seashell-lined parking lot that was reserved for Mackelroy’s employees and situated just behind the restaurant. The lot was cast in deep shadows but she could easily make out Chloe, Aubrey and her brother’s friend, Erik, leaning against her solar-yellow Kia Soul.

Erik appeared to be smoking a regular cigarette, but only a few steps more, and she caught the cloying scent of marijuana.

“Hey, sis.” Chloe pushed off the car. She and Aubrey were dressed to the nines in short tight dresses, blood red lipstick and massive hoop earrings. Even Erik had on a stylish shirt and snug black jeans instead of his usual athletic wear and ball cap.

“Where’s yours?” Jane glanced around for the familiar bright red Volkswagen Beetle.

Chloe bit her lip. “It was supposed to be finished today. But, um, it’s still getting its oil changed.”

Jane sniggered. Chloe had let the oil in her Volkswagen run dry. That’s why she had to work in their parents’ office over the summer instead of living off her generous weekly allowance and loafing the weeks away as usual. The repair costs were astronomical.

To say that their mother had nearly had a cow was a monumental understatement. She’d tartly demanded Chloe take an IQ test and was well on her way to also insisting on a DNA test in case her daughter had been switched at birth, when Troy had calmed her down with a generous glass of wine and a reminder that the twins would be away at college in another year, and they wouldn’t have to witness any additional carnage firsthand.

“Wow, Chloe, isn’t it weird that your oil change has taken like three weeks?” Jane’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “That’s such a long time.”

Chloe’s lips formed a thin line, and she guided her sister a few feet away from Aubrey and Erik, her hooker heels sinking into the shells a little as they went. “C’mon, Jane. Erik’s cousin is a Barnie and is hosting a blowout tonight. The party is in Salem.”

That answered the question of why Chloe was with Erik at all. He was really more Kyle’s friend. Jane leaned conspiratorially close to Chloe. “Erik is related to someone who got into Harvard?”

Chloe giggled and her perfectly straight hair shook with the motion. Jane’s own hair was just wavy enough to give it a perpetual disheveled look, especially on humid days. She was momentarily derailed by a pang of jealousy before Chloe said, “He’s probably adopted or something.”

Jane wasn’t sure whether Chloe meant the cousin or Erik, but it didn’t really matter. She straightened and eyed Aubrey, who was drinking from an enormous plastic cup with Coke emblazoned on the outside, and Erik, who was staring right back at her with squinty, stoned eyes. They were openly eavesdropping.

“I dunno,” Jane hedged. Her sister had failed driver’s ed. three times and had enough speeding tickets to wallpaper her bedroom. “Why not ride with Kyle?” No way would he miss a good party. Jane glanced around for his Jeep.

“He’s already at the party. My car was supposed to be ready by five o’clock today, and we were going to take that. Seriously, Jane, we have to go!” Chloe showed Jane a selfie taken by Kyle with his tongue stuck way out like a rock star. His shirt was off, and he was playing air guitar. His face was inexplicably painted bright orange.

Jane sighed and shifted uncomfortably. There was no telling how much trouble her siblings would get into at a college party in Salem. “And you don’t have any other way to get there?”

“Christ, Jane, I’m not joining a cult! I’m just going to a party! Please? I haven’t even mentioned how badly you stink like fish.”

“Whatever. I don’t know her, but she’s not with us and can get her own ride.”

Chloe gave Jane a sugarcoated smile. “Then say yes already so we can get out of here.”

It hadn’t escaped Jane that she wasn’t invited to this party, even as a means to use her car for the night. Luckily for Chloe, she wasn’t one to hold a grudge and wouldn’t have said yes anyway. “I want it returned with a full tank of gas and washed.”

“Deal!” Squealing, Chloe clapped her hands together excitedly and jumped up and down.

“And next time Dad wants someone to hand out campaign fliers or go on some boring family outing, you get to be me.” This was a big one. Much to Chloe and Jane’s delight, last month their father had dragged Kyle along to a nearby antique roadshow for company. According to Kyle, it had been four hours of continual torture. Even their mother had winced at his graphic retelling.

Chloe actually paused, clearly considering how horrible her future chore could be but finally stamped one of her killer high heels in resignation. She was all about instant gratification. “Ugh! Fine.”

Jane pointed at Erik. “And no jibbas in my car. For real, Erik. I hate the smell. I’ll call the cops on you myself if I smell pot when I get my car back.”

“No problem.” He took a final long pull and then cashed his bowl in his hand. “You’re the best, J—”

The sound of rocks crunching between two nearby cars drew everyone’s attention.

Jane’s stomach knotted. She’d been getting anonymous texts all week. The messages, while not outright dangerous, had slowly grown more and more unnerving. While the words read as essentially harmless, they, along with Samantha’s crazy insistence that she was in danger, had put her on edge.

Aubrey, Erik, Chloe and Jane headed toward the other cars as a slow-moving unit with Jane, the youngest of the group, somehow leading the way.

There was more rustling of rocks and then hushed whispers. “Who’s there?” Jane demanded, her voice far more confident than she felt.

“Oh my God!” Aubrey muttered, her eyes as round as saucers. “This is just like one of those spooky movies where everyone gets killed!”

When two heads suddenly popped up from the shadows far closer than they expected, Aubrey screamed and threw what had to be 32 ounces of what almost certainly was Diet Coke all over Sully. She scrambled back a few feet, and he let out a loud yell as the cold soda, ice cubes, and then the cup itself pelted his face and chest.

Samantha’s deep blush was visible even in the waning light. After a quick glance to make sure Sully would live, she sheepishly tucked her hands in her back pockets and shifted from one foot to the other. “I-I-I—”

“They were spying on us!” Chloe growled and roughly pushed Samantha back against one of the cars and pinned her with an elbow to the chest. She’d failed driver’s ed., but apparently the self-defense class their dad had insisted on had worked wonders. “You pervs!”

“It’s not what you think,” Samantha tried urgently. She held up her hands in surrender, and her face twisted into a grimace as her spine crunched against the car.

Erik snatched Sully up by the back of his T-shirt like a lion lifting a pup by the scruff of his neck. “You’re that freak I heard was trying to get a look into the girls’ bathroom at the Wayfarer Café the other day, aren’t you?” He shook him so hard that Sully’s teeth rattled. “Did you watch me take a leak in the bushes a few minutes ago, too?”

Erik bared his teeth. “You scrawny little dickhole!” Without warning, he body slammed Sully to the ground with shocking force, sending a spray of sharp shells everywhere. Sully barely had time to gasp before Erik yanked him up again onto his tiptoes and drew back a meaty fist.

Stunned, Sully whimpered, his chin and cheeks already bleeding, his eyes unfocused.

“Sully!” Samantha began to shove Chloe away to get to her friend. She drew back her fist to fight her way over to him if necessary.

“Erik, put Sully down, now.” There was no hesitation in Jane’s blunt order and he complied almost robotically. Adrenaline raced through her veins.

Erik released Sully by simply opening one large hand. The slender teen crumpled to the ground in a tangle, arms and legs akimbo. The sound of air whooshing from his lungs when he hit the ground a second time was loud enough to hear over the crunching shells.

Jane addressed her sister in an equally severe tone. She understood Samantha’s murderous glare on a visceral level. “Chloe, back away from Samantha before she breaks your nose. I know how much you value your face.”

Chloe’s bravado instantly fled, and she gulped and scurried away from Samantha, whose tight fist was still poised to strike. Chloe shielded her nose with one hand as she went. Aubrey opened her arms and greeted her as though she was a returning hero. They clung to each other.

Samantha lowered her fist and bent down to check on her friend. With a gentleness that tugged at Jane’s heartstrings, she brushed bits of shell and rock from Sully’s face as he groaned quietly. She wiped the blood from his chin with the neck of his T-shirt. “Shit, Sully. I’m sorry.”

Jane went to check on Sully as well, when Chloe’s hand clasped her shoulder and stopped her short.

“Jane, why did you call off Erik?” Her voice was low, as though the conversation that everyone could clearly still hear was somehow private. “They were—”

“Sully and Samantha were here to see me, not you and your friends. Right, Samantha?” Jane glared at her pointedly. Erik was still fuming and it wouldn’t take much for him to go after Sully again.

Even in the poor light, Jane could see Samantha’s pulse throbbing in her slender throat.

Jane did her best to smile and not look rattled for her sister’s benefit. She’d never seen anything like what had just happened, and her stomach was in knots. “They were just playing a joke on me. Trying to scare me a little.”

Chloe’s shoulders sagged with relief. “That’s the prank you’ve been asking me about all week? The one you thought I was involved in? Your friends are assholes and horrible pranksters.” Chloe nudged her. “C’mon. I’ll drive you home.”

Samantha helped Sully to his feet. “Up you go, buddy.” He wobbled for a few seconds before finding his footing.

Jane shook her head at her sister. “Go on to your party. I’ll walk home.” She gave Chloe the keys. Jane had clutched them so tightly during the violent exchange their imprint was still inscribed on her palm.

“C’mon, Chloe.” Aubrey glared wolfishly in Samantha’s direction and then lifted a curious eyebrow at Jane before she guided Chloe toward the car. Erik dutifully followed. “Jane’s a big girl and we’re going to miss the party. Leave her to hang out with her friends.”

Jane squinted when the headlights shone directly in her face and waited until Chloe pulled completely out of the parking lot before speaking. “What the hell?” She glowered at Samantha, waiting for an answer as Samantha continued to pick crushed shards of seashell from Sully’s face and arms.

“God, you’re worse than my ma.” Sully finally slapped away Samantha’s worried hands. “Next you’re gonna spit on your thumb and wipe my chin. I’m fine. Leave it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jane asked, truly concerned. She had no idea that Erik was that strong or fast. Then again, he was their school’s best heavyweight wrestler in addition to being an all-state linebacker.

“I’m fine.” Sully tried to grin but couldn’t quite pull it off with blood dribbling down his chin. He gestured to his cola and bloodstained face. “I just didn’t see that coming.”

“That Grade-A Certified bitch Aubrey,” Samantha hissed, livid. “I’ll bet she enjoyed that. With her dad bein’ the police chief there’s not a cop in town that would take your side in this.”

Jane put her hands on her hips. She couldn’t care less about the police or Aubrey, except for maybe the odd, hungry expression she’d had on her face when she looked at Samantha. “Why were you both hiding between the cars and watching me? I know you don’t care about my sister or her friends.” She suspected she knew the answer already, but then again, it was so absurd she had trouble believing it.

Sully groaned and brushed off his shorts. “You tell her, Sam. I’m goin’ home.” His embarrassment over being taken down in two seconds flat was written all over his face. Jane couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“It wasn’t your fault that the harpy and juiced-up dumbass tag-teamed you!” Samantha draped her arm over Sully’s shoulders and gave them a very gentle, affectionate squeeze. “I’m goin’ with you.”

“Stay,” Sully insisted. “I wanna change clothes anyway.” He pulled his wet T-shirt away from his chest with a scowl. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, Sully, c’mon.” Samantha frowned. “I need to check you out in the light. I think your arms are all scraped up too.”

He pulled away. “So I’ll take a shower. By the way, seein’ as how I’m the greatest pal ever, I deserve hazardous duty pay. Two sandwiches tomorrow. Extra mayo this time.”

Jane could see Samantha’s concern warring with a desire to leave Sully with a shred of pride.

Samantha finally capitulated, her eyes glassy with emotion. “An entire jar if you want.”

Sully walked up alongside Jane and stopped. He rested his hand lightly on her forearm. It still held a slight tremor, and she didn’t blame him one bit. “Jane?”

“Thanks for not letting The Hulk crush me.” Bits of shell dropped from his hair as he spoke. “Apparently, reefer does not make everyone mellow.” He gave her a boyish smile that, this time, reached his eyes. “Who knew?”

Jane laughed softly. She was starting to see what Samantha liked so much about him. His affable brand of charisma was magnetic. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“’Course I am.” He puffed out his chest a little and waved at Samantha. Then he gave Samantha what looked suspiciously like a nod of encouragement.

It was almost fully dark now and gas lamps that lit the historical district town square and harbor area flickered, their golden glow warming the bluish-black sky. She hadn’t realized the lights had even come on. “What was tonight all about?”

“Make sure you were safe.” Samantha’s lifted her jaw a little, as though bracing for the storm. “We were just watchin’ you to make sure nothing bad happened, and you weren’t supposed to even know. We’ve been sort of keeping track of you all week. But a stupid bug started crawling on Sully’s leg and he couldn’t stay still to save his life.”

“Jane, I know you don’t believe my dreams mean anything.” Samantha’s voice was strained. “But they do.”

Jane didn’t have it in her to disagree or even object. In fact, her heart was leading her in a different direction entirely. As much as she didn’t like the idea of Samantha keeping an eye on her from afar, a bigger part of her was just plain glad to see her.

She felt bad about the way they’d ended their last encounter and had no proof at all that Samantha had been making fun of her, even if it was likely that Samantha was insane. She’d been wrong and she wanted to be mature enough to admit it. She wanted another chance. “Samantha, do you want to go someplace and talk?”

Samantha let out a sigh so full of relief that Jane could swear she felt the weight of the world unlatch itself from both their shoulders.

A single faint light from Samantha’s house was their guidepost as they walked down the open stretch of road at the outskirts of town. “My grandparents are at a VFW dance tonight.” Samantha wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s date night, and I was told not to wait up.”

The walk had already done them good, and they seemed markedly calmer as they finally took the opportunity to just talk to each other without the added layer of drama that somehow had ensnared them both. To Samantha, it felt normal. And that was something that had been sorely lacking lately.

Samantha nodded, relieved that Jane didn’t seem to want to revisit what had just happened to Sully.

“My parents always say they’re going to do that. But somehow they never do.”

Samantha chuckled, thinking of the many times she’d caught her grandparents in a passionate embrace. “It’s actually embarrassing how into each other they are. They kiss all the time, and I’m used to seeing little love notes left around the house or a lipstick kiss in the mirror when I wake up. Pappous gets up before Yaya every single day just so he can bring her coffee in bed.”

“That’s so cool.” Jane smiled dreamily. “I don’t think you should be embarrassed by that at all. I want a relationship like that someday.”

Jane kept her gaze on the uneven gravel road beneath her feet as she walked. “Does ‘Pappous’ mean grandfather?”

Samantha glanced over at her, surprised. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that it’s another language. Pappous is grandpa and Yaya is my grandma, but I’m guessing you already figured that out.”

“Some.” Samantha laughed at herself and made a correction. “Unless it’s related to food, then I’m fluent.”

“She came to the United States when she was six-years-old, but she picked up a lot from her parents. Pappous was fourteen, which is why he has even more of an accent.” Samantha snorted. “When he really gets going and curses, even Yaya has trouble understanding him.”

They stopped at the front door, and Samantha removed a single key from her pocket. She didn’t like to bother with a purse.

“Living room or the deck out back again? It’s a beautiful night and I could loan you a sweatshirt?” The last thing Samantha wanted was to feel cooped up inside, but she’d do whatever Jane preferred.

Jane suddenly looked self-conscious and she ran her hands up and down her own arms. Samantha imagined she was smoothing down goose bumps. “Deck, I think.” She wrinkled her nose. “Since I haven’t had a chance to get cleaned up.”

Samantha cocked her head to the side and regarded Jane with burgeoning affection. She couldn’t help herself. “If I can stand to hang around with Sully and his teenage boy stank, being around you is no chore, trust me. But you’re welcome to take a shower.”

Samantha was about to open the door when her cat, Oliver, raced up from out of the darkness and wound himself between her legs affectionately. She reached down and grabbed him, sinking her fingers into his silky gray fur and pressing her lips to the top of his head. “How’d you get outside? Huh?”

“It’s okay. He’s friendly.” Samantha kissed him again. “Aren’t ya? This is Oliver. He’s my buddy. I’ve had him since I was a little kid.” She cooed into his fur and used her hand to make Oliver wave his paw at Jane. Then she noisily kissed him again.

“He’s not supposed to be outside, but sometimes if he gets onto the deck he jumps off the side and into the bushes. Though he hasn’t done it for ages.”

Samantha opened the door and ushered Jane inside. She set Oliver down. He dashed away like his tail was on fire, and she locked the door behind her. She followed Jane’s line of sight as she took in the room. Samantha was proud of her grandparents’ home. It was modest but always well-kept.

The living room was small, with sturdy, simple furniture that sat on thick braided rugs and invited guests to put up their feet. Family photos, many in antique frames, covered every available surface. The old wooden floors were scarred with time, but the wide planks were still true and stained a deep cherry red.

Samantha clicked on another small light to supplement the one that was always left burning in the window in memory of her mother. Over the years, it had helped guide her home on many occasions.

“I would love a shower,” Jane began hesitantly, “but I don’t have anything to change into.”

Impulsively, Samantha grabbed Jane by the hand and led her to a hallway bathroom that held an old claw-footed bathtub with a handheld showerhead. More than anything she wanted Jane to feel welcome and safe. “I’ll find you something of mine to wear. Then we can still go outside if you like.”

Before she could get Jane a towel, Samantha was interrupted by a quick series of texts from Sully that almost caused her to burst into laughter. But right on the heels of the messages were memories of other fights she’d witnessed, many far worse than what Sully had endured.

The last one, she recalled, was just before her brother entered the navy. It had happened while she was visiting her father on one of her very occasional weekends in Boston. When her father and brother, or her father and anyone really, disagreed, it wasn’t unusual for things to turn violent.

Shoving aside memories she wished would stay dead and buried, Samantha passed her phone over to Jane so she could read the texts herself.

LOL my ass is bruised AF

But I survived being attacked by Godzilla

Dude now you owe me Pringles too

Not those shitty salt and vinegar ones you like

Loaded baked potato

That is all <mic drop>

Grinning, Jane passed the phone back. “My brother would have included a photo of the bruise. He’s obsessed with his own butt. Consider yourself lucky.”

That Jane had acknowledged that Sully was her family made Samantha want to pull her into a hug and bury her face in that soft looking, wind-tussled red hair. Instead, quickly, and a little breathless, she pulled a towel from the hall closet and handed it to Jane. “I’ll put the clothes outside the bathroom door for you. Meet me on the deck when you’re ready, okay?”

Twenty minutes later, Jane let herself out the back door of the house that led directly on the deck. Samantha had already placed a battery-lit lantern on the railing to light up the small space. It felt cozy. The seas were calm tonight and the waves below were almost silent as they lapped against the rocky shore.

Samantha tried not to swoon when she caught sight of Jane in a pair of her gray sweatpants with the legs rolled up and her thick royal blue sweatshirt that had been cuffed several times. She’d clearly found the blow dryer that Samantha left plugged in on the counter, but her hair was still slightly damp and her skin was pink from the warm water. Jane wore the silly grin on her face every bit as well as she wore her clothes.

Samantha felt so supremely satisfied with herself that she wanted to howl at the moon.

Jane glanced up at the starry sky. “Your clothes are sooo warm.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in a happy way, not a cold one. “You put them in the dryer for me? I-I…Thank you.”

Samantha gnawed on her lower lip. That wasn’t a weird thing to do, right? Yaya did it for her and Pappous all the time. It just felt really…nice. Comfy. Like someone cared. “You won’t tell Sully, right?”

Jane shook her head and was unsuccessful at smothering her small chuckle as she took a seat in the chair across from Samantha. She swiped two fingers across her heart in the shape of an X. “Promise.”

Samantha could barely detect the light scent of her own, inexpensive shampoo on Jane. It was familiar, but somehow on Jane just a little different. Sweeter. Richer.

When Jane had settled in, she set her phone on the small table next to them. Then she slid one leg up the other and crossed them in an easy gesture so natural and elegant in its femininity that Samantha felt as though she’d been struck between the eyes with a baseball bat.

Jane wasn’t trying to be proper or especially girly. But that soft, enticing essence somehow exuded from her very pores, even in borrowed sweatpants and tube socks. While Samantha wasn’t particularly tomboyish, nothing about her seemed polished or especially ladylike. She felt a bit like a rusty barge next to Jane’s sleek yacht. For a moment, she wondered how they could both be girls and yet be so different.

Then the seconds began to tick and lengthen with neither girl quite knowing how to start.

“You look different than you did last week, Samantha.” With visible effort, Jane released her white-knuckled grip on the arms of the deckchair, and the old wood let out tiny a groan. She rested her hands loosely in her lap. “I didn’t realize what it was until just now. You’re tired but not exhausted.”

Samantha sucked in a startled breath. The dark circles that had become almost the norm over the past few months were all but gone. What she didn’t know is how apparent they’d become to everyone else.

Sleep had come easily this week. She was still worried about the dreams and what they meant for her and Jane, but once she’d accepted them for what they were, something in her settled. It was as if, after years of wandering, she’d finally found and started down the right path. Even if she had no idea where it actually led. “Is it that noticeable?”

Jane hesitated for a handful of heartbeats before she sheepishly shrugged and admitted, “I notice you.”

“That’s good,” Samantha said nervously, her throat instantly parched. “Because I-I notice you too.”

She was pretty sure Jane didn’t mean it quite the way she did, but that was somehow okay. It felt good just to admit it out loud. This, she realized, was something she desperately wanted. To sit close to Jane and be her friend. To talk quietly with her, just the two of them. Alone but together. To know for certain that she was safe. They were still essentially strangers, but there was an added layer of budding intimacy that flowed between them. The flow was choppy and uneven, but undeniably there.

“Tell me about your dreams again.” This time Samantha sensed no judgment in Jane’s voice, only genuine curiosity.

Samantha let a surge of confidence fill her and when she got to the part about what she’d seen in the Wayfarer Café, Jane didn’t recoil. She leaned closer, pale eyes shimmering in the moonlight and riveted on hers.

At the end of her tale, Samantha waited in silence, anticipation welling inside her. She began to feel a little woozy, then realized she needed to actually take a breath. “Do-do you believe me?”

Jane looked at her hands, her face as serious as Samantha had ever seen it. “I want to believe you.” She glanced up, brows deeply furrowed. It’s just…”

“Impossible?” Jane’s expression was so regretful that Samantha actually found herself wanting to comfort her.

Samantha rolled her eyes at herself and expelled a harsh laugh. That wasn’t an answer, but maybe it was progress. “I don’t know how else to convince you. I know I’m asking you to take a leap of faith into somethin’ that’s impossible. I know you’re smart and logical, and that I’m tryin’ to get you to believe somethin’ that can’t really be…But Jane, I don’t know what else to do. I have no other proof.”

Jane looked at Samantha for so long that the teen began to grow restless and squirm a little in her seat. Her palms began to sweat. Her stomach clenched tight. It was as though Jane was taking stock of her very soul, and she desperately didn’t want to come up wanting.

Finally, Jane drew in a deep breath through her nose. When she let it out, her eyes took on a steely glint, and the conflicted look she’d worn all night faded into the background. “Swear it, Samantha,” she said quietly, the words only a fraction louder than the faint ocean waves and night’s breeze. In contrast to those penetrating eyes, her voice was as tender and tactile as a soft caress.

“Swear to me that everything you’ve told me about your dreams is real—and now I know I’m the crazy one, because I’ll believe you.”

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl and the world around them grew very still. The sea and the wind, and even the sounds of Jane’s suddenly labored breathing, all melted away. Samantha swore that even her heart stopped beating when she extended her hand out into the empty space between them. Her throat nearly closed around the words, and when she said them, they sounded very far away. “I swear.”

It seemed to take forever, but when Jane took her hand and squeezed it hard, Samantha finally felt time surge forward like a rubber band that had been stretched to its limit before inevitably snapping back. Her heart began to jerk in her chest, and the sounds of the night sprang back to life around them.

For all its simplicity, Samantha recognized deep in her bones that what they’d just done went beyond words. It was a pact.

Chapter Seven