I should add here that middle-aged women always seem to have the hots for my dad. They think he’s hunky in a bohemian sort of way. Before he became such a divorced sad sack, waitresses flirted with him shamelesslywhen we went out to dinner. Sometimes right in front of my mom, who found the whole thing confounding. “They don’t have to watch you floss,” she said once. Anyway, sitting there in the kitchen, I felt like I could already see Grace sizing him up.
“I’m Grace,” she said now, “and I am in your kitchen because I rescued your daughter from the lake this morning.”
“The lake?” said my dad, like it was a place he’d never heard of.
“The one at the foot of the hill,” said Grace. “The one your daughter jumped in.”
I felt my face warming.
“Oh Christ,” I said. “She didn’trescueme.”
I avoided eye contact with Grace, but I could feel her watching me.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You weren’t flailing around in the lake, screaming? That’s not what was happening when I found you?”
My dad looked around the kitchen, as if searching out more evidence.
“Tess,” he said, “I think I’m missing something here. Why are you home from school? And why were you in the lake with your clothes on this morning?”
My cheeks felt hot. My heart was beating in my ears.
“I was doing my morning row,” said Grace, “earlier than usual, and I saw her jump. It looked...”
She stared at me.
“It looked like she was going to drown or something. I thought maybe she was trying to...”
I stood up and took a step toward Grace, holding tears at bay.
“I wasn’t trying to do anything,” I said. “I didn’t need to be rescued by your stupid little boat that looks like a dildo. It was a purification ritual! It was for my soul! You ruined it. And now you can leave. Dad, I’m sorry for the trouble. I’d like her to go now, please.”
But my father was stuck in place. His eyes were locked on Grace. And for some reason, the fact that he was haplessly looking at this woman and not at me, his soaked and half-crazed daughter, pushed me over the edge. I felt my jaw clench, and when I spoke I hardly knew what I was saying.
“Dad,” I said. “Quit staring at the boat lady! Grace, I don’t need a babysitter anymore. Thanks for nothing. I’ll see you all in hell.”
And at that, I stalked out of the room like a teenage drama queen, my shoes squelching on the varnished wood. But asI walked up the stairs, I risked a single look back and met eyes one last time with Grace. And I was surprised to see that the look on her face wasn’t angry. It didn’t even seem annoyed. Instead, there was just a knowing stare that made me turn away.
Upstairs, I noticed that the taste of lake water was still in my mouth. It was brackish and sour, like fish had been peeing in it since the dawn of time. I remembered floating in the lake and looking up. The clouds had been so close, like they were right on top of me. I didn’t feel any time passing before Grace reached out and grabbed me. She had been shouting, but, at first, I couldn’t hear it. My ears were plugged with water and everything sounded miles away.
“I’m still a little unsure...”
I heard my father’s voice from the window near my bed. He was down in the driveway. I inched toward the window and cracked it open.
“...never been great with authority. She got kicked out of summer camp once for inciting a riot. I’m sure she’ll be—”
“No,” said Grace, interrupting him.
I watched her stand with perfect posture in the driveway.
“No?” Dad said.
“I don’t think she’ll be fine,” she said.
She walked closer to him.
“I’m not sure exactly what your daughter was doing this morning, but it didn’t seem fine to me. It seemed very strange. When I pulled her out of the water, I couldn’t get her to talk to me for ten minutes. She was freezing cold and she was crying. I think she might need some help.”
The last word, and all that it implied, seemed to shock my father. He ran his hand through his hair.
