Page 60 of The Summer Club

“It used to scare me.” She clinked her bottle against his.

“The waves?”

“No,” Andi said. “The thought of the tide coming in, like it was coming to get us. Especially during storms. I used to worry it might come in right up over the dunes, swallow up the house.” She looked at him. “When I was little.”

“And now?”

“Now I find it comforting. Like it’s something coming to meet me halfway. Something that washes away the day and sweeps the beach clean. Kind of like a fresh start.”

Nate stared out at the water, listening quietly. Only the sound of the surf rose in the air between them. “How do you feel about starting over, Andi Darling?”

It was a question Andi had been asked a lot that year. “It’s daunting, for sure,” she said. “But it’s also an opportunity, you know? A second chance.”

Nate leaned her way and bumped against her shoulder. “I hear those are hard to come by.”

Andi turned to him. He was staring right at her. Before she could reply, he pressed his lips against hers.

If anyone had told Andi as a teenager that someday she’d kiss Nate Becker, she would probably have laughed. Not now.

Nate’s lips were warm and full and certain, tinged with the spicy citrus taste of summer ale, and she found herself kissing him back intently. There was no awkwardness. No fumbling. Their lips and tongues moved together, a buzzing give and take, and Andi felt herself brimming with desire.

She pulled away, her breath short.

“Andi… I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said, touching his face. “I’m not.” Nate’s gaze was so earnest. But she needed to go slowly. Dancing, always, at the edge of her own needs and wants was the constant thought of Molly. It was all for naught, probably; Molly was fine, away with her father and having a wonderful time, according to the few quick texts she’d sent. But now, here on the beach, making out with a new man for the first time since she’d said her marriage vows fifteen years ago, Andi felt off kilter. As wonderful as it was.

Nate must’ve sensed it. “C’mon,” he said, standing up. He reached for her hand and pulled her up.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

They walked down to the water’s edge and turned right. “You seem to have a plan.”

“I do, but it’s a bit of a walk. You up for one?”

Between the moonlit beach and the kissing and the sudden sense of freedom swirling up in her, Andi didn’t want the night to end yet. “Lead the way.”

They followed the shoreline, skirting the frothy edge of the incoming tide. The air was balmy, despite the late hour, the smell of salt heavy. It lent the night an eerily beautiful feel, as if anything was possible, and as Andi walked beside Nate she felt heady with anticipation.

They talked about their work, his in New York and hers in Connecticut. How much she loved teaching middle school students, but often struggled relating to her own teenage daughter. “I remember parents telling me I’d make such a good mom, because of how I taught.” She shook her head at the memory. “Turns out there’s little correlation there.”

“Oh, come on,” Nate said. “I’ve only seen you and Molly together a few times, but I can tell you’re tight. She seems like a great kid.”

“Thanks. Though her mother is still a work in progress.”

Nate chuckled. “Aren’t we all?”

“You look like you’re doing pretty darn well for yourself,” Andi said, glancing up at him. From what he’d shared, he had a nice place in the city. A good job. And here he was, back on the Cape in his parents’ renovated summer home.

“I’m not sure you always thought that,” Nate said. “I think I was just this goofy friend of Hugh’s to you. God, I was so skinny and awkward in middle school.”

Andi laughed. “I remember!”

“Yeah, well, that’s not how I remember you.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “And all these years later, here you are. Even better, if that’s possible.”

Andi didn’t know what to say. It meant something to hear that someone from a happy past thought you were doing okay, even in the troubled present.

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