Camille took a deep breath, trying not to feel the places where Julie’s words had dug in. Was it true? Did she throw herself into her work so she didn’t have to think about why she was still single after all these years or why she harbored a manic fear that something awful would happen to those she loved? Yikes. “Hey, sweetie, let’s do each other a favor and talk about something else.”

“Jeez, you always do that. You always change the subject because you don’t want to talk about the fact that everybody thinks I’m a fat, ugly loser.”

Camille gasped. “No one thinks that.”

Another eye roll. “Right.”

“Tell you what. You’ve been really good about wearing your headgear and your teeth look beautiful. Let’s ask the orthodontist if you can switch to night time only. And something else–I was going to wait until your birthday to switch your glasses for contacts, but how about you get contacts to celebrate the end of freshman year. I’ll schedule an appointment–”

Julie swivelled toward her on the passenger seat. “I’m fat, okay? Getting rid of my braces and glasses is not going to change that.”

“Stop it,” Camille said. God, why were teenagers so hard? Had she been that hard? “I won’t let you talk about yourself that way.”

“Why not? Everybody else does?”

“What do you mean, everybody else?”

Julie offered a sullen shrug. “Just…never mind.”

Camille reached over and very gently brushed back a lock of Julie’s hair. Her daughter was smack in the middle of prepubescent awkwardness, the epitome of a late bloomer. All her friends had made it through puberty, yet Julie had just barely begun. In the past year, she’d gained weight and was so self-conscious about her body that she draped herself in baggy jeans and t-shirts.

“Maybe I do need to let go,” Camille said. “But not all at once, and certainly not by putting you in harm’s way.”

“It’s called surf rescue for a reason. We’re learning to be safe in the water. You know this, Mom. Jeez.”

Camille slowly let out her breath, put the car in Drive and pulled back out onto the road. “Doing something underhanded is not the way to win my trust.”

“Fine. Tell me how to win your trust so I can take the course.”

Camille kept her eyes on the road, the familiar landmarks sliding past the car windows. There was the pond where she and her friends had once swung a rope swing. On the water side was Sutton Cove–a kiteboarding destination for those willing to brave the wind and currents. After a day of kiteboarding with Jace nearly sixteen years before, she’d emerged from the sand and surf to find him down on one knee, proffering an engagement ring. So many adventures around every corner.

“We’ll talk about it,” she said at last.