“Why do you feel that way?” Grace asks, even though she already knows the answer. Remembers those worries like they were blooming in her mind just yesterday.
“Because I don’t know what I’d do!” Cece exclaims, loud enough to scare off the gulls. She rubs her face, laughing, but obviously also a bit embarrassed. “This is my big happy ending, you know?” Her voice is lower this time so she doesn’t frighten any more wildlife. “What if it all doesn’t pan out the way I’ve envisioned? I think I’d just completely break, turn into a puddle or something.”
The warm breeze picks up, bringing with it a new thought for Grace. What if she just tells her? Not only who she is but also what she knows. Encourage her to get up and run away. Warn her that all her perfect plans will shatter, and that in a not-so-far-off future, she’ll be forced to start her whole life all over again.
Before Grace can say any of this, though, Cece begins to speak. “I asked Madame Mermaid the dumbest question,” she admits. “As if coming here wasn’t the dumb part, right?”
“What’d you ask?” Grace remembers the feeling of this day, but not the semantics.
“She was reading my tarot cards, and before she pulled one, she told me to ask something, and that the card she picked would provide the answer.” Cece waits, like she’s still absorbing some of what Madame Mermaid said. “I asked whether I’d be happy. In the future, you know? If she saw a version of me that was just ... content.”
“What’d she say?” Grace asks, looking at this once polished version of herself. “What card did she pick?”
Cece bites her bottom lip before she responds. “The Fool.”
Grace remembers the card now. The way Madame Mermaid traced her finger across its illustration—a man dressed like a court jester who stood on the edge of a cliff, a knapsack tossed over his shoulder.
“She said it marks new beginnings,” Cece continues. “That the person who pulls it is at the start of a long journey, one they’re equipped for but that they need to travel alone.” She stops, thinking about Madame Mermaid’s words and quietly laughs. “And then she gave me this.” Cece pulls a small blue card from her pocket. “It’s a twenty-percent-off coupon for my next reading. Apparently, if I want to know more about thelong journey, I’ll need to come back.” Cece reaches out her arm and passes the coupon to Grace. “Here. You can use it for your reading,” she tells her. “I doubt I’ll ever find myself here a second time.”
Grace accepts it, one more small token of where and who she’s been. Right after she does, the door between them swings open. The cluster of bells hanging from it jangles. Another patron walks out, looking satisfied to have had someone tell her, even if it’s a lie or just pretend, that her future will turn out as bright as she believes.
“Perfect timing.” Cece points to the door. “Looks like you’re up.” She stands then, ready to walk toward the life she’s so hoping will work out. “I’ll see you around,” she says, and starts to move up the boardwalk.
“You won’t,” Grace shouts before she gets too far.
Cece turns and looks over her shoulder, her face tilted at an angle. “I won’t what?”
“Turn into a puddle,” Grace clarifies. “If things don’t work out. You’ll survive it.” She lifts her leg, crossing her ankle over her knee, and smooths the curling edges of the Band-Aid over her foot. “You might be a mess along the way, but you’ll find your way through.”
Cece shakes her head. “You say it like you know me.”
“Maybe I do in my own way.” Grace shrugs. “I remember that time in my life, too.”
Behind Cece, a young couple appears, strolling along and taking in the summer view.
“Were you scared?” she asks Grace, and when she does, loops her finger around her necklace chain. “Back when you were in my shoes.” Her cheeks lift. “Metaphorically, I mean.”
Grace lets herself remember. Adam. Her first book. The life she always wanted, the one she gave up so much along the way to find.
“I was,” Grace tells Cece. “I was afraid, just like you.”
The couple walks past, arms linked, their faces happy.
“Good to know I’m not the only one, then.” Cece stuffs a hand in her shorts pocket, turns to take another quick look at the water. “It’s funny,” she says, shifting their conversation. “I’ve been coming to this island my whole life.” She laughs at something private. “I used to be in love with this boy I knew down here.” A pause. “Ray.” She laughs softly. “Every summer, it felt like it was just me and him.”
“What happened?” Grace asks, though she already knows, has already lived it.
“He knew my past,” Cece says, her gaze still set on the sea. “Eventually, we reached a point where I needed someone who wanted to know my future. Myrealfuture, the one that involved more than just a few days spent lounging in the sand.”
“Do you feel like you found it, then? Your future?”
Cece pulls in a big breath and looks down at her shimmering ring. “I do,” she says, not yet knowing that Adam would only know a piece of it, and that finding love was not always the same thing as finding yourself.
I hate winter,Ray said one summer night. The two of them. This boardwalk. The scent of funnel cake. Laughter from the rides. Neon lights. Both of them weeks away from their senior year of college. One last twelve-month stretch before real life began.
Grace laughed.Lucky for you, it’s currently ninety degrees.
I’m serious, Porter. Ray set down the bucket of fries they were sharing, took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers.I’ll miss you this year.
