Thirty-One Letters

Fourteen

It takes strength to make your way through grief, to grab hold of life and let it pull you forward—Patti Davis

It was a big wave kind of day. Strong off-shore winds created large swells with a high potential for barrels. It was the type of conditions that Hadley lived for out on the water. The kind of conditions that made her want to spend the entire day surfing. Soaking wet, messy hair, bruised and battered and happy.

She wasn't the only one thinking the same. The beach was littered with people. It didn't matter that it was a Tuesday morning and most people should have been at work. The waves were too good to pass up. The experienced surfers were farther out, waiting to catch a big wave but there were clumps of people littered around the shallows. Kids learning to balance in the water, tourists taking lessons on how to paddle out properly and the etiquette of catching waves.

That wasn't even counting everyone enjoying the beach. People were lying on towels and sunbathing, others throwing around frisbees and playing volleyball, children building sandcastles. And smiling. Everyone smiling and laughing, like it was the soundtrack to the day and the waves and sun were just the rhythm keeping it all going.

Hadley watched it all happen from the back deck of her house. Her father was at the shop—it was sure to be a busy day for rentals of boards and wetsuits—and her mom was in the kitchen cooking. She was preparing for some meeting at the town hall that she'd been hired to cater. The homey aroma of freshly baked bread and something else mixing in that was almost spicy wafted toward her through the open windows.

A freshly printed stack of photos rested on the table beside her. Slowly, she worked on integrating them into the scrapbook on her help as she worked to document the past three challenges. Earlier that morning, she'd gone into town and gotten the photos developed and printed. She'd spent the last hour and a half wielding a glue stick and scissors, pressing the photos down into a perfect placement and then writing about what she'd done, before adding the letters.  It took time to smooth out the wrinkles and the creases but eventually she was satisfied enough to paste them inside as well. 

But now... All Hadley could focus on was the tinkling laughter of the crowds, the sun glinting off the water, the chilling sound of waves crashing the shoreline and feeling...a tug.

Hadley thought of letter twelve sitting unopened on her bedside table but didn't feel any inclination to open it. The day was too warm and she was too relaxed to be faced with another challenge. She wanted a moment, just one moment, to forget it all. A moment to go back to the girl she was before she'd found her brother on that fateful morning.

There was no way to truly go back to that time but perhaps there was a way for her to forget for a little while. A way for her to live in the moment and pretend, like a kid playing dress-up, that everything was all right.

She got to her feet and rushed towards her bedroom. In two minutes, she changed from her clothes to a long-sleeved one-piece and pulled her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her face. She reached for her beach bag, already equipped with the essentials, and walked back towards the deck.

"I'm heading to the beach," Hadley called to her mother as she passed by the kitchen. "I just need to grab my board from the garage. You need me to do anything before I go?"

Her mother looked up in surprise. Because of the surfing or the offer for help Hadley wasn't sure. "No, I don't...You said you're going to the beach? With your board?"

"Yeah. The waves are beautiful."

There was no mistaking the fear in her mother's eyes. Hadley knew what she was remembering. The pounding waves and the lifeguard and Hadley blacked out on her way to the hospital. A mother's worst fear, losing both of her children only weeks apart.