Page 22 of Changing Tides

I moan loudly. “Ugh. I don’t know.” Then I walk over to the sink and dump the horrific Kahlua coffee and the beer. I’m quiet as I turn back to the pot, pour myself a fresh cup with some half and half, and make myself busy rummaging in the fridge for something to eat. Surprise! There’s nothing because I have literally bought nothing of substance since my second day here.

Claire clears her throat and looks pointedly at me. “Is that what you really want?”

Claire is always demanding when it comes to important conversations. She doesn’t beat around the bush, and she forces me to think about things I’d rather not. Sometimes I avoid her so I can avoid my own feelings about hard topics, but today, despite the wicked hangover, I am grateful for her straight-shooting. I need a kick in the ass to really figure out how to move forward.

It’s been seven weeks since my birthday and a week since I signed the divorce papers. I’ve only been here for a week, but it feels like much longer. The only thing in my life that feelsrightat the moment is being in Cape May. I haven’t worked much in the six weeks since my life imploded, but I think I could figure out virtual appointments or even a sabbatical. I don’t think I can go back to life in Scranton knowing my heart and my marriage were annihilated there.

I turn to Claire and take a deep breath. “I think so,” I say sadly. “I just don’t know how I can go back to living there, without James, knowing someone else got everything I have ever wanted with him.” My voice cracks and my eyes fill with tears for the thousandth time since all of this started. I shudder and let out a big breath.

Claire puts her mug down and stands up. “Okay, then let’s go move you the hell out of your dad’s house and down here!” She walks definitively over to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. She gives them a squeeze, looking me in the eyes with a grim smile. “You’ve got this. This is going to be okay. You are going to be okay.” And then she gives me a hug.

Everyone needs a Claire.

* * *

I decide to pack everything,even though I hope Ellie will let me stay longer. I can’t take any chances. I get dressed quickly, take a couple Motrin, grab some bottles of water, and I’m out the door. I’m driving right to my dad’s house, and I shoot him a text to give him the heads up that I want to talk to him and the family.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s first?” Claire asks before opening her car door.

“We better,” I call back before plopping in my driver's seat. “Give me a minute before you pull out,” I yell.

I pick up my phone and quickly type out two texts—first to Ellie. I haven’t talked to her since she’s been away except for a few texts yesterday morning to let her know about Lucy. I also not-so-subtly let her know that Liam rudely told me he didn’t want my help.

Me: Ellie, I am going home to Scranton for a couple of days. I need to figure out what’s next for me. I’d love to talk to you about the potential of a longer lease. I’ll be in touch.

And then Isend a text to James.

Me: I’m going to be at my dad’s house this evening if you want to talk.

I don’t waitfor a reply from either of them. I put on a ‘90s bangers playlist and back out of the driveway.

When I was a kid, the drive to and from Cape May was agonizing. I could only play so many car games or read so many books before getting car sick or bored. The drive today feels cathartic. I am singing my heart out to songs of my youth and reflecting on the choices I have made that led me to this moment.

This week has been very nostalgic. I found myself reflecting on moments from childhood that are burnt in my memory but not often at the forefront. I thought about how my parents would take Simon and I with our beach friends to Sunset Beach to look for Cape May diamonds. They are little pieces of naturally occurring quartz that wash up to shore where the river meets the bay. The changing tide transforms them and makes them new. Today as I drive back to my hometown, I think about how a person can be like a Cape May diamond. A dull piece of quartz but when the tide changes, as it always does, they can become new again too.Maybe once I get through this, that will happen to me.

I had so many Cape May diamonds when I was a kid that I needed a box to keep them in. No matter how many I collected, I always wanted to find more. There was just something so magical about combing through all the pebbles and finding that one diamond in the rough.

After we searched our little hearts out, we would go into the gift shop at Cape May Point and show the lady behind the counter all the diamonds we had found. She would always be very impressed and make us “offers” to buy them to sell in her store, but we would never take the bait. These diamonds were our treasures. I have an overwhelming urge to go in my dad’s attic and pull out all of the boxes from our times in Cape May. I know there were pictures of all of us kids on the beach holding up our treasures dripping wet from the surf with bright, red-lipped smiles. I can practically see it now, as if it was yesterday. I also know that pulling out those boxes would be very painful for my dad so I won’t do it. At least not now.

I think about the first time I brought James to Cape May. By then, my grandparents’ house was long sold but we stayed a weekend at the beautiful and infamous yellow hotel, Congress Hall, for one of our wedding anniversaries. I took him around and showed him all the things I loved about this little beach town, my grandparents’ house, the lighthouse, the old railroad, and Sunset Beach.

James was polite. He smiled in all the right places, and I would say he enjoyed our weekend together. But he didn’tgetit. He didn’t see the reason to go back to Cape May repeatedly, year after year, summer after summer. So, we didn’t. Looking back, I realize how much of our adult love and attachment for places is reflective of our childhood memories. James couldn’t love Cape May like I do because he didn’t grow up there and he didn’t have the same memories. My only hope was that we could grow our family, and I could make new memories with him and our children there. Nowthat’sout the window.

I have been so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize the four-hour drive was coming to an end. For the first time in the three and a half hours I had been in the car, I tap the CarPlay button on my car’s touchscreen. I see multiple text messages but I tap James’ first.

James: I am looking forward to talking. Let me know a good time to stop by.

Here goes nothing.

12

LIAM

Now that Lucy is down for a midmorning nap, I allow myself to think about my tense conversation with Sophie on Friday. I really do need to make things right with her, if only to keep the neighborhood peace. I’m sure she wants to know how Lucy is, too. She only told Ellie two weeks, but it sure doesn’t look like she is going anywhere any time soon. I probably need to reach out to her. I pick up my phone and send her a quick text. It’s the first time I’ve texted her casually and it feels strange.

Me: Sophie, it’s Liam. Are you around today so we can talk?

I realize after I send it that she’ll know it’s me and I am an idiot, but too late now. Then I text Ellie to see what time she’ll be home. She texts back right away.

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